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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


    [open]  your hips on my jawline; Lexa/Any[nsfw html]
    #1
    karsi

    I decide after my first few years of solitary existence to look for an established home. I am perfectly happy living in my house of bone and skin. I built it with my own ability to animate the dead and stack their limbs like kindling for the fire. The black sand of the beach is my flooring, forever damp and stuck to the ebony of my hide. I seek the quiet of the coast for no one dares venture there except for the occasional suicide or murder. I've seen them all from my little peak.

    The Jungle is south of my home. It was natural that I should happen here when I decided to walk one day just too see what lay on the other side of the bloated beached bodies of dead horses washed up on short from their sad little deaths. I notice the warmth that is blanketing my skin, saturating me in the sticky humidity of the dense vegetation. My blue eyes watch carefully as my matching limbs are tugging me along. I am not one to invade boundaries as I value my own at the beach. I am unafraid to open up gorges in the earth or simply toss a few boulders at those who venture too close to my hut. So being the creature that I am, I make a call to the residents.

    It comes forth hoarse and gouged. Like swallowing finely ground up glass shards. The dark peaks of my ears are moving but the expression is flat as I am unable to feel fear (or any other emotion, for that matter). To pass the time before someone undoubtedly came forward to seek the stranger in their home, I look around me and collect small rocks and merge a tiny pyramid of four sides into a point. All I have to do is concentrate on my task and the bits of inanimate objects come to me without me hardly making any motions. I do enjoy my gift and the ability to move and build things. It also comes in handy as a defense tactic like in the aforementioned example.
    your hips on my jawline

    karsi finally decided to check out the jungle. dont mind the weird girl.
    #2
    i don't love you;
    but i always will.

    Something smells like death.
    She thinks this long before the call goes out from the throat of the death-reeker.

    Riva’s nose wrinkles in distaste as her grazing is interrupted by the stench of death that curls up out of nowhere like a strange and unforgettable mist. She lifts her head from the patch of ferns she was happily (okay, that’s a lie but she’ll pretend she was happily gorging herself on the green stuff) consuming because she had nothing better to do then tend to a natural need because you know, they still have to eat and stuff. Hell, she might even poop later by Lagertha’s tree just to spite the gray mare who has promptly gone missing the moment the magic goes out of the Jungle in a great big sigh.

    The cry that she hears sounds like a moose being strangled, except Riva has never had the privilege of bearing witness to a moose strangulation. It sounds exciting though! Her head flings up from the bed of ferns, a delectable morsel dangling from between her lips as her eyes roll white and wild at the strangeness in their too quiet midst. “Do you have to sound so pitiful?” she calls out to the gaily colored mare building a pyramid of rocks because why the hell not huh? Riva eyes her oddly, as she sidles close but not too close beneath the mare stinks to high heavens of death and cold, cold sea. Hm, a beachcomber she thinks, bone-lover or some other such thing and disgust chokes her throat but she swallows it down and plasters a fake friendly smile on her face and says just as saccharinely, “Welcome to the Jungle.”

    ooc: don't mind this crazy betch lol, she's mad that lagertha disappeared and has to take it out on someone. Wink
    Riva

    #3

    the dead are gone, and the living are hungry.

    It doesn’t feel like anything has changed. Since Lagertha’s disappearance, life in the Jungle has moved on uneventfully. It’s a relief, in someway. While she misses Lagertha’s presence (how on earth is she supposed to steer this kingdom without the old battleaxe?), it is comforting in a way. They will have quiet for some time. Peace. The faeries have made their displeasure with the warmongers known - have stricken a blow at the heart of each kingdom’s power. It will be a little while before any of the other rulers decide to bring out the drums of war again. Not forever of course, but a while.

    But it does mean that she will have time to collect herself, and become used to her new position. One duty of which includes patrolling.

    She’s been up since early morning, tracing the borders that she used to explore so much in her youth. It’s a mostly uneventful trip, filled with the cries of howlers and parrots, and the occasional inquisitive glance from a capybara or jungle cat. But as she’s rounding the northern border for the second time, a powerful stench hits her nose with a vengeance. “Agh!” She mutters under her breath and shakes her head, trying to rid the scent from her nostrils. It smells like … death. Like something long, long dead. Normally that wouldn’t be unusual in the Jungle - the cats leave often leave their half finished prey to rot - but the scent had not been there on her first round of the border. A soft call only peaks her interest.
    
She’s loathe to grow closer to the smell, but she follows it all the same and comes out into the trees. Riva is already there, facing a rather striking black mare with white mane and tail and sky blue markings. It unfortunately becomes quickly apparent that the mare is the one that smells so much of death.

    She steps up to Riva’s side, nodding in greeting to the paint mare. She does not know the sister well, not yet, but she does already know that she appreciates the mare’s blunt and discerning manner. Her eyes return to the newcomer, taking a moment to scrutinize. Ah … she recognizes the scent now. The beach. The girl smells of the damnable beach. Lives there too, judging by the strength of the smell. What an odd thing. “Hello. What brings you to the Jungle?”

    lexa

    #4
    karsi

    A smile crinkles the edges of my lips long before i raise my gaze to meet the harsh tones of a mare. The sky blue of my eyes remain on my small structure. I can sense her distaste for me, I can feel it seep from her pores, the spit on her tongue. She makes a remark about my voice, it is my only one so this mare should not bother herself with such trifle things.

    I raise my eyes to meet the keeper of acid words. I note that she is pretty with a loud splay of cocoa and milk but her features are contorted in a mess of irritation and offense. None of these things phase me. I do not feel the beat in my chest...it reminds me further why I am here within the Amazonian clutches.

    I catch the sound of another woman. She approaches with less malice but frankly, I do not mind the painted mare. Words...feelings are unable to strike me down. The spotted woman before me stands near the paint. I tilt my head slightly when both have greeted my arrival. I can feel the rust of my jaw hindge slowly come to life. The steel of my lips have parted only to drive away the vultures when they ventured too close.

    This is a burdening effort that would perhaps grow easier with time.

    "I would like a home other than the beach." I speak slowly, tasting the warm penny copper against my tongue. I do not speak prettily, I do not trick or deceive. I do not care for games. "My name is Karsi." The mares probably think I am a daft fool but I am not swayed. I will allow them to think whatever they will for I know what I am and what I am capable of.

    My gaze shifts back to the tiny pyramid of stones. I smile gently, almost lovingly as I crush the miniature structure with the bat of my lashes. I return my focus to the mares before me. They would probably roll their eyes to see me do such things as abilities are common in the lands but perhaps somewhere in the Jungle is a place for me.

    I will admit though, since entering the Jungle, I no longer desire to smell of the black sands. I think I would like to smell of the plants and the humidity like the other women do.
    your hips on my jawline

    no worries! i'm having a great time with her Smile
    #5
    i don't love you;
    but i always will.

    True, the black mare is striking; pale-haired and blue-pointed but Riva ignores her looks - that won’t matter to the jaguar that lurks in the treetops, eyes gleaming with a predator’s intent. He will not care what the mare looks like as her flesh is rent beneath his claws and his teeth sink into her throat for the killing blow. Riva grins; yes, she is a pretty thing for all that she smells like she’s taken a bath in dead flesh.

    The Queen comes to her side, and gives her a nod of greeting that the paint returns in the same manner. She likes the measure of Lexa, is reminded a bit of Lagertha who saw potential in Riva and asked her home to the Jungle. Good thing she came too, she thinks before throwing herself back fully to the smelly mare before them. Gods, she reeked of rot!

    Lexa gives far more voice to the curiosity that Riva hardly feels. The Jungle has a compulsion to her, for all that her innermost magic has been gutted from her, and she calls them all home at some point or another. Maybe that same compulsion tugged at the black mare as it had to each and every one of them… Riva barely cares, either way, the mare is here now and she brought her death-stink with her and it crawls into Riva’s throat making her want to gag.

    Karsi, that is her name and Riva will not be loathe to forget it any time soon. It is too keenly associated with black mare from the beach and her stinkiness. She almost opens her mouth to say something snarky about how obviously the mare should be looking for a home other than bones, sand, and sea but she keeps her trap firmly shut. Lexa might appreciate how blunt Riva is, but it is also prone to getting her into trouble too. “This is our Queen - Lexa, and I’m Riva.” Introductions are always better than snarky comments, she thinks.

    “Seems like you have the right idea but you could do with a good dousing in the river though,” and there it is - not as snarky as originally intended, but she cannot keep her mouth shut on the matter of the girl smelling to high heavens of death. “You might keep the predators at bay though,” she chortles mirthlessly, before sliding a glance to Lexa and tucking her head demurely to her breast. “I can show you to the river if you like.”

    Riva

    #6

    the dead are gone, and the living are hungry.

    The mare’s mouth opens, exuding a voice that creaks with disused. She declares that she’d like a home other than the beach, and the corners of Lexa’s lips cannot help but grimace in understanding. Ugh. What kind of horse lives amongst the dead?

    But she will remain polite. “Welcome, Karsi.” Her attention and curiosity is grasped however, when the mare turns her gaze upon a small pyramid of stones at her feet. Lexa’s eyes widen as the structure caves inward and collapses. Telekinesis, or something else?

Whatever the power, it will no doubt be useful.

    If she’d been human she would've raised an eyebrow at Riva’s next comment, but she can’t help but agree. The girl stinks to high heaven, and while it will be useful in deterring predators, it will also unsettle every one of the sisters though. But, it could have been said with more tact. She isn’t angered though. As previously mentioned, she appreciate’s Riva’s bluntness. It well … it reminds Lexa of her mother. And she can’t help but nurse a spot of fondness for that, not that she would ever admit it.

    She shoots Riva a half amused look that tries and fails to be stern, before turning her head back to look at the blue and black mare. “Lack of … tact aside, Riva’s suggestion is probably for the best. The scent of the beach on you will likely disturb the other members of the kingdom. Very few like to be reminded of that place.” Too many memories. Well, that and the instinctual disgust that the smell of death pulls out of most creatures, but she isn't going to say that to the girl. “That said, you are more than welcome here.” She steps to the side, giving Karsi enough space to pass by … and potentially follow Riva if she feels like taking up the mare on her 'kind' offer.

    lexa





    Sorry for the wait!




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