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  • Beqanna

    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


    cry 'havoc' and let slip the dogs of war; Ouija, Thana, Gryff, Any/All
    #1

     
    It is done.
     
    The words and the rules and the demons that carried the final decree against the forest had fallen, and it was with a heavy breast that the son of Mars found himself descending back into the withering bowels of Hell. And the further within its borders he went, the more he could feel her magic slipping away. Her hold on this place was waning, and with a cold smile, Deimos watched the trees lose their unnatural green--as if all the happiness was being sucked out of the world. And so it was. There was no room for laughter in this part of the world any longer, save the dry cackle that happens in the maddening death throes before the plunge. 
     
    What was left was a faint shadow of what it had once been. Where there was the silence of peace, now it was the loud quiet of fear. All that was here trembled in fear of them, and it was known that there was a new grip of power on the trees that had once been a haven for shifters and voles. The wolves would continue to remain—but they were not as they had been. Bent and cracked, he took on the form of his own kind. He was somewhere between a wolf and a hyena, with thick oiled wings and black eyes that surveyed the landscape. With pointed ears and a red tongue that was lascerated against his lower fangs, the black wolf moved among the trees with a silent step, taking in the stench of death that was overtaking this place. It was beautiful.
     
    He had not entered with the rest of them—he was not a puppet to be controlled. Not like his new favorite dog, Ouija, his barking madman on a leash… one who would do his bidding. The one who likes to play games. He would be a useful one… most assuredly. Only when the grip of Gryffen’s power had taken absolute control had the war machine come from behind the shade that he had created.
     
    He would not deign to enter into the politics. Ruan still bore the scars upon his back where Deimos’ wings hung on his sides… indeed, the magic that created them had restored the former ruler. The descent into darkness that resulted had caused a spiral that was responsible for why he was back in these lands… He had made good on his promise. He had taken everything that she loved, rend it in twain, and then came back to pick up the pieces. Everything they knew, everything they loved, was gone.
     
    And now would come the time of the Darkness.
     
    Gryffen’s power would be absolute, and Deimos, in his power, would act as the hammer of that power, for whatever end.
     
    The Taiga was forever changed, and Deimos poured his power and malice into the ground, until the blood of the dead reached up in their fear and anger and burst forth from the ground, rushing towards the borders. But their effort was wasted as the magician shut the door in their faces…a large barrier shut down their abilities. Their bodies were smashed and scattered against the bramble.
     
    Taiga’s bordered were closed, twisted and shut with the power of magic.
     
    And then the hammer falls, and war is brought to the land, the blood would seep into the ground, and these trees would take in their blood and drink from the anger, their angry fingers trembling, begging for more.
     
    Even the most innocent of things can be made corrupt.
     
    DEIMOS
    cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
    HTML by Call


    OOC note: okay, so obviously the barrier is not entirely impenetrable, and it will have weaknesses somewhere. 

    Also, i must apologize for how bad this is, because I Haven't written him in several months but Deimos needed to post. LOL.
    Reply
    #2
    a ghost in the darkness.
    His patience grows razor thin, webbed and translucent, as he presses deathly white lips together in irritation. They creep into the forest as if it still belongs to someone else, as if they were welcome when they most certainly were not. It was hard to miss, catching the offending scents or glimpses as they flaunted their presence before him as if he would simply stand back and watch, as if he didn’t see.

    Oh, he saw. While he no longer had the raven on his shoulder or intrusive magical powers, one didn’t need traits when he had plenty of experience merging into fog and shadow. So why has he done nothing? Surely he could flex some power, attack them and berate them. It would get the job done. It was too simple a fix and wouldn’t keep them out (or in) forever.

    He imagines a thick bramble surrounding the forest, of the menacing woods curling and twisting themselves into a protective barrier, becoming one with the mist and surging forth as a wooded fortress. His lips curl into a smirk at the thought. One way in, one way out… If you were lucky.

    It’s as if the image is plucked from his mind and suddenly forms around him. His red eyes narrow as root and branch begin to curl outwards from where he stands by one of the borders. Silently he watches the shift, as the graying bark stretches and cracks and as it continues to grow so does his wolfish grin. Everything settles with a final snap and only then does he seek the man behind the magic.

    Of course Deimos plays by his own rules, he wouldn’t expect less. The Taiga wraith knows that as long as they can mutually benefit each other then he can be relied on. The demon had been particularly absent as of late but it was only a matter of time since the takeover that he would come. Crimson iris’s fall upon the mottled canine like figure as he brushes through the swirling shadows. ”Quite an entrance.” Pleasure in his voice, carefully watching as others soon come forward to inspect this new element.

    ”Exactly what I had in mind…” A brow raised, wouldn’t be the first time Deimos had filtered through his brain. A thick drop of dark resin splatters from the newly formed wall and he eyes it thoughtfully. It wouldn’t keep out everyone but it was a start. ”It could use a finishing touch.” A thought of a pen, not unlike the slave pens of the old Chamber, pops up in his head ready to be picked and morphed. A place for the captives, willing or not, to be placed. No longer allowed to roam free, to be treated the way they deserved.

    Gryffen


    I'll clarify that this wall was at my request =)
    Reply
    #3
    oh, my love, don't forsake me. take what the water gave me ..

    Boring. “Boring, boring, boring…” Is the thought that teeters through her mind while she paces back from the beach. The life around her that had been eerie enough for visitors was now simply … disgusting. Had the new overlords forgotten about imagination in their hurry to return this kingdom to the dark kingdoms of old? As she weaves through bracken and eventually comes to the place where they have gathered (this partial-wolf creature and the whitewashed king) Circinae only halts in her progression and appraises them with mild interest.

    “This is the great change you want? To mimic grotesque places of the past?” The little wolf questions aloud, eyes never straying far from the magnificent wings hoisted on Deimos’ back. “Doesn’t seem like much of a change at all.” She quips, rounding her back into a proper sitting position. Her attention refocuses, pinpointing Gryffen (though, still, she does not know his name. He’d come in such a hurry and made no formal introduction - only demanded theirs) and holding him there with curiosity. “And this … wall you’ve so artfully made,” She asks, “I’m assuming its creator will remain inside the borders at all times to maintain it?”

    Beqanna resisted showy magic and this … leaking monstrosity would need plenty of upkeep. Did Gryffen contain this power? Was he capable of such things? Another flick of her eyes to the misshapen creature has her thinking otherwise. “Which is the puppet, and which is the puppeteer?” The shifter ponders. “Either way, I came to wish you good luck. As you already know, my intention is to stay - and though it may not seem like it, try to be the voice of reason for you.” Circy explains, sighing with the insurmountable odds that any of them would care, much less listen. She comforts herself with the knowledge that she did try, however fruitless the attempt was.

    “We were allowed a short glance of you, your Majesty.” The eager wolf says, tail curling noiselessly about her paws. Her dark head turns once more so that she might peer up at him, the white devil. “But I like to keep my companions close. If anything, I like to at least know their names.”

    Circinae
    Reply
    #4
    a ghost in the darkness.
    It’s only a matter of time before the naysayers arrive. The small wolf appears to give thoughts on the matter at hand. Crimson iris’s glance at her with mild interest that instantly disappears the moment she starts to speak. ”What you call grotesque, I call efficient.” Comes the flat reply before turning his attention back to the wall and admiring the handiwork of Deimos. For a magician that was old enough to fart dust, he could still manipulate beautiful things.

    However her words do seem to prick his nerves, his irritation already at a rise due to the hormones of the season and the recent developments happening in his kingdom. ”And why would I take advice from you? You laid allegiance to the man before me, the one who still resides in this kingdom as my captive. Perhaps I want to keep you all in and deal with you as I see fit, those that plot to undermine me.”

    A pause as he slowly forces himself to release some of the tension in his body, his muscles beginning to unclench. ”Yes, why is it exactly that you stay? I’ve been wondering that myself…” A soft growl as he looks at the wolf shifter, glittering blood now focused on her from their sockets. ”Instead of chastising me you should be giving me a reason of why I would want to keep you around.” The irritation rising again, hot in the back of his throat and flashing in the depths of red. ”Let me make myself perfectly clear and you can then spread the word to the rest of your friends still trying to hide themselves in these woods as if I do not know. To make great change, one needs to burn the debris so to speak. I will not have anyone residing in Taiga that doesn’t fit the mold. I believe in Quality, not Quantity.”

    His pale muzzle gestures to the wall, thick and twisted before them. ”This is but a temporary fixture until the problem is sorted.” How can he focus on the plans he has, the chaos he wishes when he is still trying to remove the clutter and trash of his kingdom? Several kingdoms had built obstructions before to deter interlopers or to keep certain people in. He had been there with them all and can’t recall Straia or even his own mother meeting as much resistance as he had. The former Taigans were stubborn but it would only serve to backfire them in the end.

    For a moment he almost ignores her, since not knowing his name seems to bother her as much as she is bothering him. Finally he gruffly spits out. "Gryffen." His focus readjusts on Deimos looking him over thoughtfully. "How long can you hold it?" A soft quiet question meant for just the two of them.

    Gryffen
    Reply
    #5

    The wall tumbles out of the ground like a wild, haphazard thing, quickly plucked from the mind of a madman and rushing like tumbling vines from the roots of the trees. The land, the forest and trees, was violently angry at the intrusion, and they fought against him with every breadth of their being. With a grunt and a push, this wall, made of thorn and bramble, would open magically to those in the Ghost King’s favor, and would attempt to keep all others out. It was weakened by the sheer force that the land pushed against the magician… an awakening in the likes that had never before been in the lands of Beqanna… But who is he to deny her?

    It is not long before the wraith comes to inspect his handiwork… and the other…. A small green girl with disdain in her eyes. His magic is too spent to pluck her name from her mind. Instead, a lather builds on his skin as his wings disappear in a puff of smoke and his body reverts to the shape of his birth. The conversation ignored as he bears his teeth in frustration. His abilities have never hampered him this much before. Had the lands created new rules for themselves since the Reckoning? It was almost as if… it had become stronger. Less susceptible to the will of the magicians. Taiga was not pleased, and it showed this by reversing the Son of Mars’ hold on the landscape. All would be as it was…. Even if it had to bear Gryffen and company as its’ overseer.

    A low guttural tone spits in Deimos’ direction, the words of the girl forgotten as he spends all his energy on building and maintaining this thing that Gryffen’s mind has created. How long can you hold it? It is with disgust, and even mild embarrassment—something Deimos has never felt before—that he flares his nostrils in anger, pushing against it, giving it all of him. His power on Ouija is expounded for now, set free from the bond of his collar…. But he has no doubt that the boy will find his own games to play…. Running rampant among the trees, free to cause chaos in his wake. Deimos feels his fingers on this world slipping away, and his body melds into the wall slowly, the vines taking him in, as if plugging in him in to the infrastructure. It would hold… but for how long?

    It will hold as long as it has to. Do your business with them and then set me free.


    DEIMOS
    cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
    HTML by Call
    Reply
    #6
    oh, my love, don't forsake me. take what the water gave me ..

    The temper on this one is short. It makes for interesting observation, every flick of his ruby eyes and lash of his pink tongue. There are buttons easily pressed and his seems to be called “pride”. No - he will never be as easily accepted here as others might, he will never be accepted easily anywhere, so lackluster had his takeover been. That’s because he is not Straia, or any other great ruler for that matter. He was simply this: a man who moulded his own ideas off of others, ideas that had been built and destroyed long ago. The past, along with her great rulers, was gone, never to return.

    “I didn’t pledge my allegiance to him.” She states gently, even though his irritation arouses some semblance of pleasure in her gut. “He didn’t even call himself a king. Ruan gave us the option to stay, and so I did.” The petite wolf answers. “And it should be obvious why I’m here. I feel sorry for you. It seems that you want attention, and lots of it, so I figured I could lend an eye or two.” She laughs.

    It’s even harder to suppress a laugh at his next warning, terrible as he tries to make it. “There are no friends of mine lurking about. You’ve chased all your loyal subjects far from here. But, again, I assume that’s what you intended. My only suggestion is to be careful, King Gryffen, when burning things for renewal. One might burn himself in the process.” Circy sighs. Hadn’t her father learned that same lesson, in the end? Altogether, his wall nor his decree disturb her. The teleporter at his feet has seen many things in her thus far short life; terrible, awful things that might even bother Gryffen, if he cared enough to be bothered.

    He would come, he would rage, and like all the other horses before him, he would go. “If you were smarter, you would be asking me to stay and help create your dream … disturbing as it may be. Though your friend here -” She states, nose jutting out in the direction of the stallion he’s turned his back to her for, “ - has created a fine barrier, eventually you or someone else will need to pass through. And, excuse me if I’m a bit off my mark here, but you don’t exactly seem the chatty type. Diplomacy and fast travel are my strengths, two things you’ll probably find yourself in need of soon if you ever wish to achieve Empire status.”

    Concise, quick, sharp. These are her words. He may deign to ignore her, even chastise her or threaten bodily harm, but the truth of the matter is still the same: that temper of his would destroy his reign long before anyone else could do it for him. With the backwards flick of her ear, Circy feigns remembering something she’d previously forgotten and rises from her position, watching the dark man meld himself into the wall. Aiming to disappear once more into the thorny depths of her beloved home, she turns back with only this: “I’ll leave you to it, Majesty. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

    Circinae
    Reply
    #7
    a ghost in the darkness.
    Perhaps it was pride that made him so easily ruffled these days. More so it was annoyance that he had to burn the rubbish to begin with. Circy throws the word King with it’s little inflection as if that is what rubs him the wrong way. The title isn’t what interested him, he doesn’t need their love or affection. That’s not why he had come here. She was blind to the true intentions or the way he planned on running things. As if the magician at his side could have ever have anything forced upon him. No, they were similar ideals. That was how they had found each other when lurking in the dark outer forests. It had always been clear that Gryffen would move the pieces across the chess board, where he would do the most damage.

    ”No wonder his kingdom was so easily taken since it was never a kingdom at all.” He coolly responds as she speaks of Ruan’s leadership. ”Once again you are mistaken on many levels. But I’ll let you keep your flights of fancy.” No, they were not his loyal subjects but Ruans. It was quite doubtful that they had any of the same ideals as the ones that followed him here had. Nor had they fled as she so sweetly tries to convince him. As if he was blind and stupid, growing more suspicious of her tactics and reasons of being here. There’s no point in arguing with her, wasted breath really.

    ”And yet you still haven’t convinced me of why you want to help… Or why I should accept it. I haven’t shared my ideas for this place with you so you know nothing of what I have in mind.” However she does have one valid point, one that he’s well aware of. At times he can force himself to be civil but diplomacy had never been his strong suit. His temper and bloodlust usually did get the better of him and although he thinks he has done surprisingly well so far, he knows that with his wearing patience… It won’t last.

    Before she slips away from him, he calls out sharply. ”Your powers are intriguing and I had other ideas in mind for you.. If you were to stay.” He swings his head to look behind him, a single stained lock falling over a blazing eye. ”Show me I can trust you.” A warning, an invitation? It was hard to tell. Looking back to Deimos, he calls out towards her retreating figure. ”And drop the Majesty bullshit.” A slight smirk finds his lips, perhaps she would surprise them.

    Looking over Deimos he pushes his muzzle against the lathered shoulder of the stallion, feeling the way his body quivers with the effort to keep up the wall. As the magician responds with the time limit, Gryffen merely nods his head and disappears back into the shadows. It was time to finish the clean up so that Deimos could be used to his full potential.

    Gryffen


    Cal wanna do a new thread?
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