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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    The Heart of the Night |
    #21
    a ghost in the darkness.
    There’s a moment when he debates on pressing his muzzle to Ivar’s cheek and either pulling back with flesh or laying a tantalizing kiss. Heda doesn’t give him a chance when she screams at them all. He doesn’t plan on listening to her until he is distracted. He can feel the tingling sensation as magic penetrates his exterior, there’s only one very small problem.

    He fears nothing.

    Her magic tries to play at his heartstrings only to find frayed debris, a withered blackened thing that resides in his chest. It accelerates, his pulse racing, his adrenaline putting him on higher edge then before. He’s not sure what the sensation is (having never felt fear before) but it only brings out a greater need to follow through on his sordid ideas. The need to fight, quite the opposite from flight as she surely had hoped for. His tongue runs over his lips, intrigued. His crimson gaze slides away from Ivar to the winged mare that steps in front of him. Way to emasculate your man sweetheart.

    Her facade is cute but fails to impress. The only dim witted creature was the pathetic excuse of a Queen before him with her simple mind and even weaker magic. However what she had managed to do was draw his attention to her and place a target on her back. A hidden talent laid within her, to be able to force one’s feelings on another could be very useful indeed. And if he couldn’t bend it to his will… He wonders if he could find the source of it if he tore her open and examined her still beating heart. If he sliced off the top of her skull and prodded at the brain matter within. Somewhere there lay a key to these secrets. Perhaps she would expose it to him.

    Thana is growing irritated at his side and he can feel the way she radiates with agitation, the need to crush them beneath her fine dark hooves. He’s prone to agree, however, perhaps a little taste of one’s own medicine? He says nothing as the roan mare tells them exactly what they want (and what he will take with fire and blood if need be), as Ivar gives a child’s answer in response. No! You can’t have it! As if any of them would have a choice.

    Instead, his crimson gaze first locks to Heda’s. And here he unleashes his own hidden ability with a satisfied smirk on his lips. It drives into the deepest corner of her heart, into it’s secret chambers. It shuffled about until it locks on something it finds useful. As he grasps this kernel of knowledge, he extends his reach to the man behind her. Doing the same thing and pulling from them each that they desire most. His laughter rings through the sky as he glamours before them, realizing before they do what he will transform into.

    His wraith like figure transforms until he is a mirrored image of the man at Heda’s side. Ivar. His coat a smokey black and stained with white, the eyes Heda’s become so familiar getting lost in now look back at her now with disdain. The smirk still on this Ivar’s lips as he finally responds to her question. ”I choose you.” Ivar’s voice, crystal clear although it’s unsure who the you exactly is. Was it the Queen or Ivar himself?

    Duplicate Ivar moves closer to Heda, daring to bring his muzzle close enough to exchange hot breath with. Close enough for his lips to briefly graze along her jawline before he moves to his doppleganger. And here he is bolder, his lips pressing firmly to the man’s cheek. Tasting the watery skin beneath, a flash in the brown eyes that mirror his own. Exposing that which he loves most… Himself. He writhes around the other stallion to the point where it becomes unclear which one is which.

    Let’s see if they can be true to their own hearts. if they can be true to themselves.

    Gryffen
    #22
    Heda
    The minute he licks his lips she regrets her action, her body easing backwards, shying away in a rather timid manner. She was never meant to fight, she hardly knew how to protect herself as her father didn't think it was necessary to teach her the art of battle like her sister Jinju learned during their juvenile years. But she stands her now, her body growing tense as the pale thing licks his lips in a settle form of pleasure by the fear that pumped through his veins, he liked it. But why? Her mind whirls, as she inches backwards her rump clumsily bumping against Ivar, she's powerless now. She can feel her fear rising, and her heart pumping ferociously, Wings strain at her sides. She wants to flee, to run for the hills, to lift off it not the sky, but her limbs are frozen, hazel gaze locked with red eyed creature.

    And for a moment, hardly even a second, a thick haze of illusion finds it's way into her eyes sight, and her body relaxes for it is no longer Gryffen that stood before her, but her heart. She's relieved at first, her heart beat still thundering within her ears, and she can't help but think, something is wrong, Thana, and Gryffen's crew still remain but the wretched stag is no where in sight. 

    She releases an unsteady breath, wings unfurling at her sides in distress and confusion, but hat happens next she can't stop. She starts moving towards him, yet her mind capsuled in her elegant body is trapped and tries to will against the movement, but something has control of her. Her neck extends unwillingly, and she reaches her cranium out to "Ivar", to share her muzzle. Spindle legs, stomp in protest to the action, as her eyes spiral to share a glance behind her, when she can make out Ivar. 

    She grinds her teeth, as pain wells within her neck as strains against the movement forcefully pulling back, she can sense this isn't her Ivar, yet her body is telling her otherwise. "Ivar....." She expels his name, fighting against the will to go to the imposter with memories which she could pull emotions from. She tries in an effort to inch backwards, her mind trying to lock onto the memory of when they lay together, the love that sprouted in their first intimate moment, willed her to fight agains the power held over her. She continued to find memories, forcing her eyes to show the truth. 

    Before her stood the pale creature, "You fucking bastard!" She murmurs, prancing back, away from him if he were to retaliate against her colorful insult. It doesn't take her long for her gaze to meet Ivar, her heart whom was as well under Gryffen's spell. "Stop this at once!" She demands angrily. 
    Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
    html by call



    @[Gryffen] @[Ivar] Sorry it took a while <3
    [Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]
    Ex-Queen of Loess
    ・❥・
    #23

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
    It is like looking at a reflection – if a reflection were able to stand and move about on it’s own.

    Ivar feels Heda relax beside him and knows she must see the same thing, as she steps forward to greet this new Ivar that he knows must the red-eyed stallion in disguise. Unaware of the origins of the magic, the scaled stallion can only assume that he has magicked himself into Ivar to gain Heda’s trust.

    It seems to be working, and Ivar is at a loss as he comes toward himself, feels his own breath. The skin that slides against his does match the scales that Ivar knows, and the pied stallion makes the decisions to doubt his eyes. He snakes his head forward, seeking flesh where he can find it with his sharp teeth. False-Ivar is writhing around him – surely he will find it somewhere.

    Blood on his teeth or not, Ivar hears what must be Heda releasing herself from the illusion (though he still sees only himself), hears her cursing the wraith and demanding that he stop. Ivar has begun to suspect that words will not be enough with these intruders and so he takes a step away, reaching toward the buckskin mare.

    “Go,” he tells her, because she has wings and can use them to her advantage. This is no place for his gentle queen; this is his responsibility now.



    kelpie mimicry | dragon scales | tactile hypnosis





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