• Logout
  • 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


    now is your time, (any)
    #1
    It’s been too long, my unloved friends. Too long since I wandered this meadow in sadness and pity, aggravated by Him and Her and It. It—my half brother—a spitting image of Him himself made me so incredibly irritated well, I left.

    Left and didn’t look back.

    And here I am, myself and I, a woman now with much to offer whichever kingdom makes her claim. Here I am, the burden, the mistake, ready to serve. I long for a home which gives me opportunities, gives me a place, and gives me the chance to redeem what no one thought I could; I will show Him. I will prove to Him his biggest mistake was treating me like the trash he believed I was. I am beautiful, bold, and strong, and I will prove myself worthy.

    I will prove he was never worthy enough for me.

    The meadow isn’t far from the field, and eventually I am able to get myself to the heart of the claiming border. My skin boils with aggravation but I won’t show it on the outside; I am an expressionless piece of stone. My surface is cold, hard, unrefined, but I am deeper than that. My exterior is the tip of my own iceberg, the depth of what I have burning beneath my skin is what will entice the worthy kingdoms. If they want a fighter, a speaker, a candidate for something more than a resident, I am their girl. I am angry, but angry is powerful. Angry can be dangerous, but only to those who don’t help me extinguish it properly.

    Come forth, ruthless recruiters, place your pitch.

    I place myself in her center, my tobiano coat flashing tones of brown and white from the afternoon sun. It was hot, my skin felt like it was burning but at a time like this I would not show weakness. I need to attract the tough, the willing, and the great—not the useless and the fake.

    So here and now is where I stand, soaking in the summer heat and inhaling the sweet smell of my future destiny.

    Hello, future homelands.
    Reply
    #2
    this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
    Lagertha is collecting them; the fierce, the slick, the ones with a hunger to be something, the ones with a need for acceptance, for something more than what they have. She offers them herself: strong, determined, disciplined, and difficult yet fair. She is collecting her own sort of army. Sisters whose first impression of the Jungle was of the General, sisters who may or may not feel an affinity for her, and not for Scorch. Sisters who may be of some aid when all hell may or may not break loose.

    Lagertha is a tempered sword, forged in extreme heat, then set in cooler waters.
    And she would need her own General when she is Queen.

    She is her own form of ruthless - no woman of words, she prefers to think her demeanor and dry, direct words speak for themselves. The gray mare could care less what her lineage is, who He and Her are, only that she will work - and work hard - for what she wants. Lagertha stalks around the Field, blatantly scrutinizing the assembled prospects. Yes, no, no no no, Yes. Her face and chest are covered in what looks to be a silvery tattooed shield. Her newest addition is an onyx, slightly raised crown of thorns wrapping around her left thigh, but if you aren’t looking for it, you might never see it.

    Lagertha approaches, stoic and neutral. She finds herself the first, and is in no hurry. “Hello. I’m Lagertha.”

    lagertha
    carnage x grim reaper; amazonian general


    [ha, i realize i just posted lag to two of your characters. oh well!]
    Reply
    #3


    Tyrna


    If we don't make it alive, well it's a hell of a good day to die



    Ugh, my head! is the only thought in the silver mare's mind as she gingerly takes to her feet absorbing her surroundings. This last transformation had left her reeling and apparently standing in the middle of the field. Luckily the power of the Falls was suppressing her little problem but the wolf still shone through more often then she would have liked.

    She starts to walk away when she sees a brown tobiano mare standing next to someone who looked familiar, for what ever reason. After a quick glance over the amazonian her attention was drawn back to the painted mare. Tyrna saw the same determination and brashness that she felt herself in the mare's stance. A kindred spirit was a rare thing to find indeed. She shook out her wild mane, pale and tangled with leaves from her latest romp through the woods. Her coat gleamed a dim gunmetal in the summer sun with a splash of white on her belly and up her legs, sky blue tribal markings twined around each leg. Her eyes a blue to match but with something 'Other' lurking in their depths.

    She plasters a charismatic grin on her face as she draws closer to the duo, "Hello, the name's Tyrna, from the Falls"





    Silver dapple sabino|Mare|Andalusian Hybrid|Falls
    Reply
    #4
    so you wanna play with magic?
    She has a thing about family.

    Not her own (although, a little her own, the story of that is written in the unseen threads that bind her to her grandmother). Mostly to other people's, to meddling with generations, to watching them all whirl past her as she stands unmoving and unbothered, the eye of a storm of her own creation. And it is no different with the family of Kindling, the mare whose mind she had once rewritten, who had begged for blissful ignorance, and then disappeared once granted.

    She knows immediately when Kindling's granddaughter turns up in the field. She has never met Smother before, but she can feel the burning hate in the girl and it is interesting to her. She can feel the desperate desire to prove, the burning disgust at father, mother, brother. And she smiles, because when they burn that badly, when they long to prove themselves that much, they inevitably make themselves useful to her.

    She shimmers into existence beside the little group, there in an instant, and yet as though she'd always been there. She is a beautiful creature, entirely black, her coat sleek, robust, and healthy. Across her chest a gold crook-and-flail is imprinted in burnished gold, and the sunlight flashes on it. Her mane and tail are long and free of tangles, cascading darkly down her neck and across her haunches. Across her cheek, a trail of diamonds and gemstones mimics a neckace, a gift from her disappearing lover. And her eyes – today, they're a bright blue, reminiscent of the clearest summer sky.

    "Tyrna, nice to see you again." she greets the Falls-mare whom she had met on the girl's brief visit to the Deserts first, her tones entirely authentic. The girl's worry about wolf-shifting is so prominent that the Deserts queen is astonished the entire gathering can't read what's on her mind. But this isn't the time or place, and so Tyrna gets little more than a smile and a delicate nod of Camrynn's pretty head.

    She turns to the lady general of the Amazons next, offering a nod to her as well, before facing Smother in turn. She is silent for just a moment, as though considering the girl, and then nods ever so slightly, almost unconsciously (although with her nothing is ever truly unconscious.)

    "And I'm Camrynn, of the Deserts." Her voice is like velvet, pleasant to listen to, but also rich and resonant and strong. To look at Camrynn, even not knowing the magic that she possesses, is to see a mare who is utterly confident, utterly in control, and utterly aware of it. She smiles then, small and tight. "Now, who are you?"
    CAMRYNN
    co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
    Reply
    #5
    I wish I could say I was thrilled that not one, but three recruiters came to my presence like flies on BBQ’s, but then I would be lying. Nothing is ever easy in this world, nothing was ever quick and painless—not even a band-aid. And so here I would stand for the next hour (give or take) listening to the potent speeches that have been practiced days upon days.
     
    The only pleasure from this, clearly, would be to watch two disappointed faces.
     
    A dark grey mare is the first to arrive to my open-invite party. She comes with a pungent smell of jungle, and while my experience with these women are seldom I know she comes with scars and stories. If it weren’t from the Amazonians strong taste in cockiness and over-confidence I might be flattered that she picked me of all the (less appealing) horses in the field today. The jungle women had a thing for girls with attitude and while I couldn’t argue their strategy, I did wonder if being cooped up with females all day and night left some slightly deranged. I feel as though heat cycles would align and become unbearable.
     
    While I wish to protest to anyone that I am a “doer” and I work hard, I don’t wish to spread lies. I am intelligent, witty, and self preserving. I work hard at what I am good at—talking (to select few unless someone has what I need), fighting, and directing. I don’t work hard at what I am bad at, such as labor, uncanny friendliness, and ass kissing. I treat you how you treat me; I don’t care if you are king of the castle or popper of the poor—if you are rude, so am I. If you are generous, I can be too.
     
    Understand?
     
    The warrior introduces her name and I match in a polite tone, “Smother. My, with such a heavy armor one can only assume you are an Amazon warrior.”
     
    I wish we could have left it at that; Lagertha seems tough but rewarding and that is the sort of thing I need to pair up with. I want to dominate, I want to thrive, and I can’t use spineless accordions for that. I need someone almost (if not equally) as head strong as I.
     
    Now the Falls I am unsure of. Though I am not old enough to experience their cowardly acts, I have heard enough rumors to help deter me from their boarder. From what I have learnt they have been spineless in their actions—not even neutral, just useless. The benefits to this is I could waltz in and stir in some action—the negative, and most prominent reason, is that if I take the risk to enter the Falls I might become just as floppy as their previous members.
     
    “Tyrna, a pleasu-“ is what I say before the final member arrives to the party. I glance over; slightly unamused I was interrupted by a new face but suddenly growing anxious at the abundance of options that lay before me. My young-minded spirit was overwhelmed by the scents, appearances, and offers (and truly no pledges had been voiced yet). My stomach is flipping in anticipation to hear what they had to offer, but also to shut down two out of three.
     
    (insert evil, mischievous laughter here)
     
    She is magic, I can see that. I am cautious around those who flaunt their powers—especially thoughs who enjoy using it too much. She is queen, and magic is a very powerful tool. The Deserts are considered light but I feel an unnatural vibe wafting from her air. She is anything but light—she may have some golden flecks of goodness in her, but the majority of her is deceiving. Now, should I be willing to take that risk?
     
    “A pleasure to meet you Tyrna,” I manage to finish after a slight exasperated sigh. Finally, my eyes switch to the magical-queen, “and I am Smother, of nothing and from nowhere. I am what they call fresh meat.”
     
    Tainted, but yet still, they want to eat me. 


    Reply
    #6
    this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
    Two more arrive, and Lagertha nods courteously to both of them (but says nothing, viewing her purely as competition). Falls and Desert, hmm? She’s never been to either, but from first impressions, these two didn’t seem quite like the stereotypes associated with their Kingdoms. A second glance at the Falls mare takes her back to the assembled group who went after Gail, and Lagertha has the urge to ask… Tyrna, was it? if she managed to succeed.

    Maybe later. When they weren’t on opposite sides.

    As for whether or not Lagertha is a bit deranged… well, it depends on who you asked. Some sisters might say she was greedy and unfeeling and abrasive, some might say she’s simply ambitious. The outside world, however, knows little of her, so I’m afraid the verdict’s still out on just what exactly is going on in Lagertha’s head. The one thing she doesn’t deal with is sass. A bit of witty banter is fine, of course, but disrespect her and thorns might start flying. Literally. But her quip is no disrespect, so Lagertha answers in turn. “I suppose the tattoo is a dead giveaway too. General, actually. But close enough.” She chuckles slightly. Warrior, General… eh, semantics.

    So that makes a General, another warrior, and Queen. Who was this mare, to attract such hallowed company? Lucky, that’s who.

    “Well, Smother, looks like you have several options. Everyone’s hungry for fresh meat. So I’ll tell you want the Amazons can offer you - a strong kingdom, we aren’t lacking in members or abilities. We have a variety of personalities, from pacifists to warriors like myself. We actively train our sisters, giving them the tools to accomplish whatever they wish. And while we are dedicated to each other and to the kingdom for life, I think once you meet some of us, you will find us… worthy of that dedication.”

    Most of them. Perhaps Lagertha most of all.


    lagertha
    carnage x grim reaper; amazonian general
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)