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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


    these violent delights; any
    #1

    violence

     
    God, but she’s bored.
    She grows bored easily, and though she is full of ways to entertain herself – the bone-creatures, the whole of her necromancy thrumming inside her, telling tales of the dead – it is never enough. For she has learned, this girl, of the violent pleasures in others’ company, especially those who are hurting, weak, desperate for an escape. They are the ones who let her in those easy, sniveling and sad, and she is there with words that are such obvious lies, but through their delusions they should like truth.
    I can make it go away, she promises.
    Those horses make her blood sing, she feels a certain vivacity in it; invading and ruining them, taking and breaking and controlling.
     
    Power corrupts, and though she’s only sipped power, she is most certainly corrupted.
    But she is alone, for now – save for the bone creature who click-clacks at her side. It is a masterpiece, this thing, a frivolous display of her power, a menagerie of bones held up by her power. A horse’s skull on a bear’s body, stag horns accentuating it – a monstrosity, and perhaps the only thing she’s ever loved.
    (Not that the creature exists apart from her – it is her, an extension of her.)
    The creature is a warning, too – a display of her power. And it’s an invitation, too.
     
    She clacks her jaws, the noise irksome in her skull. She throws her head, a theatrical display of her boredom. The bone creature rears in its own dramatic display, and she laughs. She’s bored, and alone, but finds these snippets of entertainment, at least until better things come along.
     

    I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips

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    #2
    hold me in this wild, wild world
    'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
    It has been some time since he has purposefully ventured out with the idea of recruiting someone to a Kingdom, but that is the task their temporary queen has set, and Brennen is intrigued enough about his new island home to go about doing it.

    He leaves the island by wing, but he enters the Forest eventually on foot, his inky black wings tucked tightly to his sides while he meanders, gazing at the strangers lurking in the gloom under the trees with no trace of interest; he is bored and his body language telegraphs that in his every step, until - there. He slows, hesitates, reaches out to probe at the skeleton at the black mare's side. But he can't feel anything, and the stallion wonders if that's because he can't feel other Bone-Benders (he's never tried) or if she is using some other method to animate her creation.

    Whatever it is, it is enough to peak his interest and he changes course, approaching the black mare with open interest on his face. "That's a fun toy you have there," the bay stallion drawls, eyeing her and her skeleton friend in turn before giving a very small half-smile. "I'm Brennen." He leaves it there - for now.
    hold me in this wild, wild world
    and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
    BRENNEN
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