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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    GHAUL -- Year 209


    "(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby

    the pale princess of a palace cracked, and now the kingdom comes;
    Sick and weak, tired without end: she feels herself fading and feels her body ragged and aching. Instinct drives her to the beach, to the bone-scattered shores where the water is soaked in blood and ice: grotesque with bile and humors of the corpses left on the sand.

    It stinks of rot and ruin, of bitterness and of death.

    She inhales it, and it tastes like the sweetest of delights: like the first drink of water after thirst. Her body is eased by the chill, and the muscles relax when all the world seems to grow silent… cold, and comfortable.

    Ilyena is unremembered, uncared for, and without security for the creature moving within her swollen abdomen. She mires at the thought of a different time, at the memories of the Taiga and Sylva: of Gryffen and all the world she had come from.

    None of it was ever coming back.

    Dreading and despairing she feels the hours passing, feels the slow drain of her energy as her body lays on the reddened and mealy sand. Kicking weakly and straining, her eyes widen in horror as pain stirs in her body: as agony seizes her.

    Like a hot, brandishes piece of metal she feels her skin erupting: feels the weight becoming less and the whole of her form suddenly wet with something warm and viscous.

    For the briefest second she is able to look down and see the gore and offal, the viscera spreading from the wound on her belly.

    Opened and ruined, she begins to fade faster and without end, the light dimming around her eyes and her mouth moving as she sees the wet form of her child spasming and kicking… coming to life where death is so readily surrounding her.

    “Myrkari,” she whispers, and the child looks at her with vibrant eyes and it’s raptor-like feet digging into the sand. “Your name is Myrkari.” she coughs.

    Ilyena dies.

    The Filly’s eyes roll over her corpse and the mess around her: the claws still fresh with tissue.

    Rising to her feet she looks around, the soft red fur and wispy blonde hair all coated in the mess and she shivers; but unlike the hooves of this creature she has come from… Myrkari notices immediately that her feet end in leathery skin that covers four toes… all with sharp talons.

    Flexing her steps, she grasps and plucks- tears at the corpse, out of morbid curiosity.

    Wordless and without idea of where to go she steps forward and suddenly feels a lightness, an intangibility about her: through a tree and a bush she phases and stops.

    And she ponders, unaware of where to go.

    Jassal  if you wanna send her to the adoption ground or she can go on her own.
    Rest in Peace Ilyena. Created 2002ish and survived until 2018. 
    Long live the last of her children... her own murderer: Myrkari.
    He’s never met any of his children and never really felt any compulsion to seek them out. He wanders Beqanna with little interest in the current goings on of the world around him. Sure, he’d heard about the plague and all the chaos going down in Pangea, but he simply kept to himself as he preferred. Alexiel slips through the trees and shrubs, letting each one pass through him just so he doesn’t have to go around. He’s lazy to a fault, it seems.

    But his aimless walk brings him to the beach and he recognizes the fresh corpse torn open on the sand like a bad dissection project. He blinks slowly, pauses enough to give light “Hm.” There’s a small child testing her little talons in the sand, then the corpse of what he assumes is its mother. Yikes. He follows along behind her at a distance as she begins a wandering of her own. Definitely his, he thinks when she phases through a tree.

    Hey, weird little kid,” he calls as he briefly picks up his pace enough to reach her side. “Myrkari, I guess. Um.. You’re too young to be alone.

    He leans down to sniff her curiously. She smells like afterbirth and blood. He’s seen mothers clean their newborns before but he really couldn’t get behind the idea of licking his strange demon-child. Still, he didn’t want her to be alone and in danger in times like these.

    You can hang out with me for a while or I can find you a new mom. You can’t tear the next one apart though.

    to capture a predator, you can't remain the prey

    Avian in nature she tilts her head at the sound of sand shifting and hoofbeats, her small ears leaning forward and flicking before the whole of her small figure shifts and bends- peers at the approaching creature. Words are not a thing she yet understands, but, the body language is enough to provide clues that these are not malicious steps nor the body of someone come to harm her. Still, she continues staring at the sand and blood- at the grotesque mass that would-be her mother if not for the unfortunate nature of her birth.

    Lifting a leg she bends the toes and clatters the harsh, razor-sharp claws to create a non-rhythmic and dissonant melody. To his speaking she listens, but, there is little idea to what he asks at first and she flattens her feet when she walks- double taking steps before pressing the leathery raptor talons into the ground. To him she drifts closer, studying and staring at his own legs, at this hooves: and then back to the corpses.

    Conundrum and confusion- she does not realize yet why she is different, and so Myrkari is left to sniff as she wanders closer and stops a foot or so away from the much larger Alexiel. With a bleating she turns sidelong to stand close, but, as she does she raises her foreleg and curls the toes together- pressing them down in imitation of a hoof before squeaking at the pressure and irritation caused by the unnatural movement.

    She relents.

    Tentative and curious she explores another facet of her body, that same leg reaching out towards his own and rather the grab him: she simply passes through him. As if exploring some unimaginable power she continues: walking through him and around him- or at least trying to.

    All this and she stops some feet away from him- mulling over his words and meaning before trying to speak. “Tear!” she states, not comprehending the word; but summarily piecing together a word-salad in her head of all the things she’s heard. “Mother?” she questions, perhaps piecing together something through the gestures and words.

    “Weird! Weird, weird, weird.” a word she likes, repeated and noted as she studies the talons and hooves again. “Hey! Weird mom.” this is stated at Alexiel directly, and for half a second she smiles- flicking her ears.


    you have to become equal in every way


    PVP: On
    Minor Injury, and Some Mutilation Permitted.

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