I know what sin is |
Where she had been and what she had been doing was unimportant. She was here now. |
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself; |
Assailant -- Year 226
"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
[open] Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur [Any]
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04-20-2021, 02:30 PM
Bardot
04-24-2021, 10:27 AM
Chem remembers pieces of the old world. The way Beqanna sed to be. Even as a young boy he remembers stories, stories of the Chamber of Evil, the Forbidden Dale, the Dewdrop Deserts – the great bachelor warriors of the Frozen Tundra. Many of the kingdoms had begun their descent by the time Chemdog was weaned, and he memory of their politics is very hazy, irrelevant. But he remembers his Grandfather always boasting of being a herdsman even in those days, the days of rivalries and great wars, raids and power struggles – things are mild now, compared to then, even with the recent disasters tat have rolled over Beqanna. And now the sun has returned, the planets realigned, the light back again. When it is cloudy like today, gray and dim, it reminds him of what it was like for those long hours (who knows how long it was dark, there was no time). The only light is what someone could struggle out of flame, or ethereal glow. His spine tightens, and the scabbed over wound on his shoulder pulses a little. The deep slashes, three long ones all the way across, are almost completely healed but the flesh is forever marred. Not only were the lacerations deep but the poison left a chemical burn behind. The beasts’ fangs dangle in his mane, braided in, a souvenir of his fight. The darkness almost got him. But he came out more powerful, in his opinion, and the dark magics may have stripped him of his healing but he was now the conductor of souls. He could summon two at his command, and some even summoned just to visit, like his Grandfather, he was getting stronger with it every day. Today he plays with it in the haze of what threatens to be rain, mist falling lightly from the grayness above. He summons a pair of playful ghostly wolves; they romp and play for a moment before disappearing and next come a pair of jays. The fly out from his chest and flutter and swoop, dancing above with no sound, only the ghoulish tinkle as they dart around. They jet away and fly just ahead where the buckskin mare is, diving down and circling her, twittering about mirthfully before disappearing. Chemdog is soon behind their disappearance and approaches her from behind, “Hello.” he grins, taking a deep breath as if smelling the air, “smells like rain.” he turns to her, trying to read whether her response might be of a welcoming tone or if she’s preparing to lay a bite across his face (or maybe somewhere in between). CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall @[Bardot] Bardot
@[Chemdog]
05-06-2021, 06:34 AM
How typical of both of them – to be here in the sunlight, glaring at passerbys and the Chem trying his hand at fishing for the day. It is a cycle that has gone on here since Beqanna’s birth, or emergence, or however this odd dimension came to be. It is like a snail’s shell, ever looping, encasing it’s own world; the Field is forever on a loop, and both participants here seem to know the swirl quite well. He smirks, a half-hearted chuckle bubbling up as he notices her expression drop. He is not the Prince she was expecting? Or perhaps she was hoping he would have a vagina and a crown. He’s far passed self-esteem, or second guessing his own charm vs. his grime. He’s equipped with both, he’s aware. The rain begins, sparse and gentle, and he takes a deep breath after her chilly retort. “Some days.” he tosses his thick tail over his hips, looking out into the fog starting to descend from the hills down into the open grasses. “If you’re looking for somewhere to go, there’s room in Silver Cove – plenty of food and shelter.” he huffs between sentences, “Winter comes fast.” His teal eyes slide over to her pristine, unmarred face. “But if it’s structure you’re looking for, a Kingdom, I am sure the fine lady of the lake; Mazikeen, would welcome you.” The sneakier part of him doesn’t offer her escort to anywhere else, if she’s not aware of her many options, he wouldn’t be the one to open her eyes to it. Chem is always open to buttering up the Queen of Hyaline in attempts to keep she and hers on his side. He doesn’t bother to explain that he does not plan on any real structure to the Cove, not in these early days anyway, and that drifters are quite welcome without commitment (a generosity he learned from his buddy Leilan). “And if it’s to be left in solitude, I’ll go, but I do recommend the River for a bit of peace; if that’s what you seek.” CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall @[Bardot] sorry you had to wait bb
05-06-2021, 05:02 PM
Bardot
@[Chemdog] No worries, I still have no idea what I'm doing with her lol <3
05-10-2021, 09:37 AM
“Oh,” he feigns concern, poorly, “you have pegged me exactly, then. I am a collector of fine company, and a hoarder of delectable interaction.” he huffs, smiling sickly. He did like defiant women. Not to conquer, or break, but to simply be in the presence of. They’re contentious air when it comes to men, some of them anyway, was always a bit of fun. Often these women become Queens, or lesbians, both of which he approves of (because his approval matters, in his universe -eye roll-). “Yes,” he lets out a sigh, “her.” He grins, “A gorgeous, fierce and from what I can see, commanding leader.” he breathes casually between his sentences, “She’s not afraid to slay, that is certain.” he goes on to tell her briefly about how to get there, and vaguely offers his company along the way, seeing as his home is close to Hyaline. He quirks his head to the side, a mischievous glint in the eye left uncovered by his forelock. “You don’t seek solitude or peace?” he grins, a trick question; just what kind of woman was he meeting today in the field? CHEMDOG
to the window, to the wall @[Bardot]
05-13-2021, 12:59 PM
Bardot
@[Chemdog] I'm down to continue this in Hyaline <3 | |||||||||
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