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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

    [mature]  so much time


    they promised that dreams can come true

    It has been a long time since she’s set foot in the Cove. Not that she was naïve enough to believe she would never see her birth home again, but still, it feels strange to return to it now as a member of Loess and a diplomat. She’s not sure what capacity she expected to return to it in – this seems like a likely scenario, really – but perhaps the scenario doesn’t matter. It would be strange to return to a place that was her beginning, but was never her, regardless.

    The black beaches of the Cove still call to her though, and she finds it stranger still to stop so far away from them. They are the one thing she misses. Around her, shadows creep with a mind of their own, the same shadows that crept out from her the day she’d laid on those beaches until Dawn found her and kept her from dying. Because she would have died on those beaches, would have laid on the sand at the edge of the surf until the tide came in and swallowed her whole.

    Ori reins the shadows back in now. They are nothing more than an illusion, the inky blackness of her anger creeping forward. She rarely feels it, a thing buried so deep she only notices it as Kagerus name, but still, it’s there. Somewhere in this land Kagerus may still be tucked away in her coma, though Ori has a hard time believing Kagerus would stay there when Solace had not. Yet only one of them had come to find her.

    She wonders, briefly, if her companion noticed the shadows. Perhaps, perhaps not. Ori doesn’t care either way, though she finds her companion’s presence stifling today. Not that she minds Brunhilde – the mare was, well, she was Brunhilde but Ori liked that. She’d appreciated the small talk on the way here, not that Ori was remotely skilled at small talk, but she was happy to let others fill the space with chatter and questions. She had just imagined making this first trip back alone.

    Maybe it’s better that she’s not alone. Maybe it’s better that she can’t disappear to the beach she misses. Maybe it’s better that she can’t seek her mother now, because some traitorous part of her just wants to know if she’s still in the same spot or if she just doesn’t care. It’s a truth best left buried.

    Ori stops at the border of the Cove, nodding to Brunhilde to let her do the honors to call out for someone if she wanted. Ori was content to wait in silence, to see if she even recognized the face that came to greet them. It’s entirely likely she wouldn’t. So much time had passed, so many things had changed, including her. Though she didn’t doubt that most would know her, if they knew her mothers.

    but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too.

    brunhilde and whoever wants to come chat with them. Ori's pretending to be a diplomat Wink

    Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission

    She has few memories of the antlered girl. They had grown up together briefly; Dawn, having freshly birthed her first set of twins, figured that three was no more trouble than two. The blood sisters had accidentally left Ori a bit outcast — it was natural, she reasoned, they were twins after all — which is also perhaps why Ori hadn’t returned since being stolen to Loess. Maybe it was self-centered of Isilme to think that she might have something to do with the illusionist staying in Loess but, then again, it would not come as a shock to anyone to learn that Isilme was self-centered.
    Isilme isn’t far from the border when she sees her. Despite not having seen Ori for over a year, she recognizes her blue leopard spots instantly. She is taller, of course, her wings and antlers having grown as well, but she essentially looks the same. She is accompanied by another young mare — yellow and orange, followed by butterflies — and when Isilme sees the other mare’s lion companion, she pauses, suspicious.
    Must be a relative, right? Wanna bet? Issy thinks with a smirk, looking back at her zebra. Spot grins but says nothing.
    The golden girl presses on, Spot following behind loyally, and when she reaches the pair she comes to a stop in front of them, shifting her wings.
    “Ori! Welcome back. Do you remember me?” She says with an easy smile, pausing before looking to the orange mare. “I’m Isilme,” she explains, “and this is Spot. What can we do for you?”

    oh, i was reckless, once was breathless

    [Image: isilme.png]
    aka squirt @ bq

    and all the quiet nights you bear, seal them up with care
    no one needs to know they’re there, or i will hold them for you

    Brunhilde knows exactly why she offered to accompany Oriash to Silver Cove: selfishness, and . . . mostly selfishness. There is a certain curiosity she possesses, a need to know why the little nightmare does not return to her birthplace. The leopard-marked girl offered her straight-forward answers in their first meeting, and Hildy does not doubt their truth, but she knows there must be more beneath that bluntness. She knows there is pain there, resentment - there must be. After all, the flame-weaver cannot imagine anyone feeling other than she would.

    They arrive at the Cove’s border. Brun does not mind her companion’s silence; in fact, she welcomes it, because even the most probing of creatures need their solitude. What small talk they did have died off quickly, and the little flame melted into what secrets their mutual silence possessed. There is a moment where the two are quiet when they should not be, and Hildy steps forward to just make an entrance into the Cove. This is her father’s kingdom, and she has no reason to think he would keep her out. Any visitor she brings with her will also be welcomed with open arms.

    Brunhilde, wait, is Khal’s loud demand. She looks back at her lion companion with a roll of her eyes until she realizes he is gesturing at an approaching mare. Hildy straightens with a clearing of her throat. She knows who this is, because she is a nosy creature and irritated by all of her father’s other offspring.

    Irritation scratches at the back of her throat when Isilme addresses Oriash first. Her nostrils flare with a deep breath, but Khal’s gentle brush against her legs calms her. “I know who you are,” she replies, a smile as sharp as a sword parting her lips. “I’m Brunhilde, and this is Khal. You and I are half-sisters.” Hildy stops herself from tacking on a few more snotty phrases; instead, she casts a glance back at Ori, hoping she will take on a more . . . diplomatic approach.



    Oriash isilme i guess this needs to be tagged as mature because boobs


    they promised that dreams can come true

    Brunhilde and Isilme would both be sadly disappointed, if they could read minds. Ori didn’t stay in Loess because she disliked the Cove or because Isilme and Austra didn’t treat her like a blood sister. She held no ill-will toward the Cove itself. The land didn’t make her parents desert her, and even when they did, the land welcomed her with open arms. Ori will forever miss the black sand beaches of the Cove, the place that she would have died if Dawn hadn’t pulled her from the beach that day. It would have been a good place, and the Cove would have welcomed her warmly and with open arms into it.

    Nor did she blame Isilme for not treating her as she treated Austra. Why would she? Ori did not share a womb with them, did not truly belong to their family, and was mostly just grateful to have been plucked from the brink of a death that she didn’t really want. They were hardly cruel and unpleasant step-sisters to her, and after all, Ori’s always been more of a quiet loner anyway.

    The truth is, sometimes the place you are born simply isn’t home.

    Brunhilde looks about ready to just waltz into the Cove, and in truth, Ori would have just let her and probably turned her invisible to everyone else. She is spared from that decision though by a familiar face. Like Ori, Isilme has grown into a young woman, though how could she mistake the girl she’d grown up with? Even if she could, Spot would have given her away. Ori laughs at the greeting slightly, a strange thing for her, but as she grows she changes without noticing, turning into something a little less closed off.

    “Isilme,” she says, almost fondly, which is something for her. “How could I forget you?” The corners of her lips turn up into a soft smile. Perhaps they had not been close, but still, they’d been sisters of a sort at least for a little while. Brunhilde seems…well, she seems like Brunhilde, interjecting in a somewhat rude fashion but at least having the sense to stop.

    Ori waits a moment, then adds.“Brunhilde, Isilme and I grew up together.” Well, sort of. Ori had gone most of her growing up in Loess alone, but they both knew that and she didn’t see the need to clarify further. Brunhilde and Isilme may have been half-sisters by blood, but in Beqanna, that didn’t necessarily mean much. It was clear Isilme didn’t even know who Brunhilde was, and though Ori and Isilme were not inseparable by any means, there was some shared history.

    Ori turns her attention back to Isilme, finally addressing the topic at hand. What can we do for you, the golden girl had asked, and Ori figures she won’t waste time. “Castile asked us to visit and simply see how things are here. I wanted to come here to see for myself as well.” After all, it was her birth home, and it would always be special if only for that. She wanted to know too, if Kagerus was here, but at the same time she didn’t truly want the answer at all. It seemed a thing better not to know.

    but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too.

    brunhilde isilme

    Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission

    How small the world seems.
    Though she didn’t keep track of her siblings on her father’s side — who they were or how many were floating around — it seems improbable that she would have two half-sisters, one from each side, standing in front of her. One by blood, the other by choice. Isilme and Brunhilde look nothing alike: Isilme, golden and silver; Brunhilde, yellow and orange and fire. Perhaps they had a different shared quality, inherited from their father — both of them a bit harder, a bit rougher around the edges.

    “Brunhilde,” she says, smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. The warmth radiating from Ori is a stark contrast to Brunhilde’s negative energy. Irritation, perhaps, though she isn’t sure why and doesn’t care enough to pursue an answer. It bothers her little what others think of her.
    “I guess you haven’t spoken to our father recently,” she says snidely, pausing, looking back and forth between the two mares. “Litotes and Dawn are both in Pangea, the new kingdom. They chose me to take care of the Cove, still a territory, but we’re more of a common land between Pangea and Hyaline now. Nothing exciting to report back to Castile, I’m afraid.” Isilme pauses once more, pointedly addressing Oriash. “Is Pangea your next stop, then?”

    you should see me in a crown

    I'M SORRY I know it's awful but at least it's something
    [Image: isilme.png]
    aka squirt @ bq

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