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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


    Pretty butterfly; Oceane
    #1

    Ilma
    And there's a lesson waiting to be learned
    the firestarters always get the burns
    and the good guys never get the girl

    As the white mare nears the Loessian border, she wonders how far she’ll come - and then she wonders if it matters. She already knows how much Lepis’ values her friendship - not that much, when it is not solely for Lepis’ benefit but many others’ too - and she already knows about the mare’s decision to move here.

    But Loess has many bodies. Surely that means she won’t run into her at first sight, and if she does, well, she’s only visiting. She can even just pass by with a greeting, if necessary.

    Let no-one ever call her impolite though. A soft call escapes her white lips, standing between the Sylvan and Taigan border, the three-lands-border a peaceful no-man’s land for now. No, she doesn’t think she will be alone for long. The question is, who will come to greet her here?

    and shooting stars cannot fix the world


    @[Oceane] I remember a loooong time ago she should visit so here she is, haha
    Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
    Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time
    #2

    O C E A N E
    Hath in her veins,
    to beat and run,
    the glad indomitable sea,
    the strong white sun.


    Loess is a hub of activity, endlessly providing Oceane with the opportunity to meet new and intriguing equine. The opalescent woman had always considered herself to be more of a wanderer, but now that her belly begins to swell with the promise of new life she finds it considerably more comfortable to allow these new acquaintances to come to her.

    This isn't to say that she is stagnant; the violet pegasi still takes to the skies of her foothills home and, when she is not airborne, lopes the perimeter of the territory to stretch her lanky appendages and quicken her heart rate.

    She has barely reached the northwest border of Loess when she hears a gentle call carried on the breeze. The scent that accompanies it is unfamiliar to Oceane, though this does not deter her from seeking out the source. Where others may harbor an inkling of hesitation at greeting a stranger in a quiet, uninhabited corner nestled in the forest between territories, the shimmering mare has never hesitated to explore.

    Curiosity would someday kill the cat, perhaps.

    She greets the ethereal ivory mare with a smile that doesn't quite reach her amber eyes and a small nod. "Welcome to Loess," the balefire woman says as her gaze sweeps the forest behind the stranger. She is alone, it would seem, aside from the the blue-and-gold parrot that Oceane occasionally happens upon in her travels. Her eyes linger here for only a moment before returning to the unfamiliar woman.

    "What brings you to the foothills today?"




    @[Ilma] | "WORDS"

    neamrel / thedayofshadow
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #3

    Ilma
    And there's a lesson waiting to be learned
    the firestarters always get the burns
    and the good guys never get the girl

    Pregnancy - ah, but Ilma’s is heavy too. This time a little more so than before, she knows; but so far it does not show that she carries two. In fact, early in winter as it is, the main giveaway of her pregnancy now is the way she walks, the distribution of her body weight slightly altered, only a small bub visible if one looked closely at her waist. It is the same for Oceane, but Ilma has more than one reason to find out if one is pregnant or not. When she stretches out her nose to the purple mare in greeting, she is overcome by the vision - and smiles. ”Thank you kindly.” she starts, looking the mare over with amber orbs.

    ”I’m Ilma. I’m visiting lands in my own tempo - as a sort of nomadic diplomat for the world.” That’s the only way to explain what she is doing. Trying to keep the world from falling apart. From leaders and lands tearing at one another’s throats. But even phase one - visiting everyone and befriending some diplomats and leaders - takes her longer, takes more effort, than she initially had hoped. ”I’m not sure if anything will come of it, but I felt like current times could use a more independent mediator.” Although, true independence… she cannot be sure if she is able to. Lepis had not taken too well to her proclamation that others are her friend too - like Heartfire - and Ilma can’t be sure if Noah would have accepted her if Castile or Lepis had put on a stern face in her presence.

    ”I see Castile is doing well.” she offers. Seemingly out of the blue, though triggered by her current train of thought and her earlier vision of the dragon’s child that Oceane carries. She isn’t sure if he’s her friend or her former-friend at the moment, though she can hope for the first still. He’s changed, she’s changed, and his actions of the past are not forgotten - though she is finally in a forgiving state, perhaps.

    and shooting stars cannot fix the world


    @[Oceane]
    Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
    Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time
    #4

    O C E A N E
    Hath in her veins,
    to beat and run,
    the glad indomitable sea,
    the strong white sun.


    "Ilma," she repeats the ivory woman's name with that same polite smile all the while trying to decide whether or not she'd heard of her before, "It's a pleasure to meet you." Oceane had suspected that this visit would be diplomatic of sorts — the white woman had not arrived with anything akin to hopefulness present upon her face (something that she has found to be commonly expressed on those seeking permission to find residence within a territory), though the lack of one territory's scent over another had left her curious.

    Ilma's explanation gives Oceane the answers she had been searching for, and she nods with interest and commendation. "You have a noble vision for Beqanna," the Loessian woman falls silent for a few beats, thinking on the task that Ilma has set before herself. "I've never been fond of war," she says finally, the words falling like a secret confession from a lavender maw. War had affected her entire childhood and young adult life, though not just hers — the whole of Nau-Aib was built on war. On bloodshed. On domination. War is no stranger to the winged woman, but she has always refused to participate.

    She garners no pleasure from the physical pain of others.

    She intends to offer a helping hand to her new acquaintance, a sort of loose promise that she will help where she can and when she can. But she's caught off guard by Ilma's sudden mention of Castile and instead of continuing their conversation on this new form of diplomacy, Oceane chuckles. The sound is a little off-balance, though not impolite. "I believe he is," she says with a flick of her lavender tail, "Though he's been completing his own diplomatic visits as of late, so I can't give you anything too up-to-date." She shrugs her winged shoulders apologetically before clearing her throat and returning to their previous topic of conversation — "How have you fared in your travels thus far?"



    @[Ilma]
    " "

    neamrel / thedayofshadow
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #5

    Ilma
    And there's a lesson waiting to be learned
    the firestarters always get the burns
    and the good guys never get the girl

    Oceane is bright and cheerful, a mare that Ilma takes an instant liking to. Her own explanation sufficient and informing the purple pegasus well enough, the topic slightly alters when she mentions her dislike of war. Of course, the ethereal mare agrees, giving a nod and a sad smile. ”You’d be surprised how many would find it necessary, just to make a point.” Yes, she thinks, she would - she knows she would. A mark on the world and lives lost in a battle for dominance. A child following their father to war thinking it an adventure. Dragons attacking volcanoes.

    To let the Tephrans be an example. Because that’s what it was. No-one was to cross Loess’ path to power. Retaliation was the one and only answer that could be given if someone dared. She shakes her head at the memory - his explaining it to her in the meadow, and not realizing how wrong he had been. How wrong he still was. Violence was never the only solution, but her words had not landed, only flown against the electric fence and crackled there.

    Her own sudden outburst has caused the winged mare to falter only a tiny bit, for which Ilma scolds herself. Her precognition can sometimes get the better of her, but when she needs it, it seems not to be willing. Perhaps pretending it isn’t there would work better, but no, that would certainly cause even more weird remarks like this one.

    Ilma smiles knowingly when Oceane mentions she can’t give an update, not diplomacy-wise. ”I wasn’t asking about your alliances. But enough about - “ A shake of head. ”Careful. They won’t want to see him. His existence will upset her.” A shudder follows - ”...men. If you can’t tell me about your alliances, I can tell you about mine.” she offers with a smile. To her, nothing happened - it’s probably not the first time she zoned out, as strong visions would, but it is the first time someone else would notice.

    She pauses a moment, her amber eyes warm but distant as she looks north. ”Heartfire told me not to forgive, but it’s not my style. I must, if I’m to make connections once more. I just don’t think I’m ready right now, so I won’t bother you with the politics of Nerine and Loess, or Taiga. Nerine, Loess, Tephra, Island Resort, Ischia and the Pampas though, all harbor some who are dear to me. That’s where Loess comes back in view.” Ilma gives a knowing smile. ”Just not it’s leader right now, I think. Luckily you guys have plenty of residents to get to know better.”

    and shooting stars cannot fix the world


    @[Oceane] I’m not sure this is any good but it is text for you to read
    Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
    Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time
    #6

    O C E A N E
    Hath in her veins,
    to beat and run,
    the glad indomitable sea,
    the strong white sun.


    Oceane is quite familiar with those who find war necessary for the simple reason of furthering their own doctrine or expanding their own reach. There are those who will never be content with what they have. And perhaps she is guilty of this, as someone who is never happy enough to stay in one place, curiosity never sated and legs perpetually restless. But she has never inflicted pain on another for her own gain.

    Her thoughts flash to the orange-eyed stallion she'd met on the Mountain. The memory of his death replays in her mind (the hiss of the snakes, the guttural cry from the stallion as he was felled) and draws nausea into her stomach. She breathes it out slowly, shakily, before forcing the polite diplomatic smile back onto her lavender lips.

    She, unfortunately, has no knowledge of Loess' past with Tephra. No inkling of the things Beqanna has perceived Castile to have done — or, even, the things he has done. She has not seen his inner dragon, has never witnessed anything more hostile than a general suspicion in him.

    Oceane does not require seeing something to believe — but it certainly helps. With a quiet chuckle, the Loessian woman makes to shake her head and redirect the ivory visitor, for she hadn't meant her comment about alliances to come across the way that it had, but her ajar mouth freezes as Ilma's own speech is interrupted by a warning of a much more sinister nature.

    Ilma is back on track within moments, the warning coming and going without fanfare, but where the ivory woman's smile remains, Oceane's has fallen. Her amber eyes have steeled and leave behind no kindness to be shared — though more out of confusion than hostility, that may not be the way such a swift change in her expression is perceived.

    Ilma speaks about Loess and Tephra, Nerine and Taiga... mentioning territory upon territory and then, finally, settling on Loess again, where she makes her feelings towards Castile known to the opaline pegasi. But one of this matters to her now, not with the unmentioned warning staring her down. "What did you mean?" she asks without acknowledgement of the woman's diplomatic musings — "What did you mean when you said they won't want to see him? His existence will upset her?... Who are you referring to?"



    @[Ilma]
    " "

    neamrel / thedayofshadow
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #7

    Ilma
    And there's a lesson waiting to be learned
    the firestarters always get the burns
    and the good guys never get the girl

    There is a number of things she does purely intentionally as a diplomat - but there are, apparently forces at work that she can’t foresee. She had, of course, scouted for the possibility to meet Castile himself at the border, and only moved towards it when these chances were lower - she’d rather befriend more Loessians than just it’s leader, especially since the kingdom was after all, pretty large and pretty populated. Some would call the hills pretty as well - still, she preferred the cleanliness of the Hyaline lake, yet she also knew there was little chance for her to go back and have things the way they were. She was a nomad now, with two younglings underway who would belong to the Island Resort, as much as her last child belonged in Tephra.

    And Oceane… she would have the dragon’s child - a child she has seen: a son, winged, not a dragon, but clearly enough his for others to know who’s child the diplomat had carried all this time. A child that might throw Lepis off-balance more than Sochi.

    But even if she had seen something like that, surely she would not have spoken it aloud at a first meeting? Confused, she looks at Oceane - not remembering her outburst at all, she searches the woman’s face. ”What did I say?” Amber eyes meet amber eyes, but there is only true shock and concern in the purple woman’s face, and the white mare finds herself explaining what she had not often told anybody else - certainly not someone she didn’t really know yet.

    ”I see things, sometimes. Present things, future things. That’s how I know your foal is Castile’s son. But unlike the past, the future is not set in stone.” She shakes her head. ”I never knew it came with black-outs and weird predictions, but I would advise you not to worry about it.” Biting her lower lip, Ilma considers. Perhaps she should abort her mission. Live a more secluded life. Influencing others’ emotions like this, especially when meeting pregnant women or young mothers, was probably not a great idea if she had this… ability popping up.

    and shooting stars cannot fix the world


    @[Oceane]
    Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
    Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time
    #8

    O C E A N E
    Hath in her veins,
    to beat and run,
    the glad indomitable sea,
    the strong white sun.


    She stands off against Ilma, muscles taut and eyes wide with concern. She half-expects the visiting woman to deny saying what Oceane had heard her say just moments ago, to claim that she had simply imagined something that she had wanted to hear. But she doesn't, and Oceane is thankful for that ─ though, swiftly, Ilma's explanation draws dread back into the opalescent woman and weaves it between her sinew and veins. They wouldn't want to see him?

    They wouldn't want to see her son?

    Her...

    son.

    "My son?" she whispers when finally she has processed her way through Ilma's confession. A son. Her third boy. In her mind, she has already begun to hope that maybe he would fill the hole that her missing two had left in her heart before she'd left Nau-Aib ─ but even now, she cannot escape.

    Even now, they will not want to see her son. They will be unhappy.

    Her blood runs cold with terror as her mind flashes back to those days in her homeland that her newborn boys had been taken from her side as she screamed so loud and so hard that she'd made her own throat bleed. She would never let it happen again. She would die before it did.

    I would advise you not to worry about it, Ilma says and Oceane shakes her head as she begins to pivot away from the ivory woman. "I think... I just need a moment," she murmurs to the diplomat without offering any explanation as she begins to move away.



    @[Ilma]
    (If Ilma wants to stop Oceane from leaving, that's totally fine! Otherwise we can do another thread after Alcinder is born <3)
    " "

    neamrel / thedayofshadow
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by
    #9

    Ilma
    And there's a lesson waiting to be learned
    the firestarters always get the burns
    and the good guys never get the girl

    Oceane seems to have fallen out of her role - and probably for good reason. Ilma bites her lip as she does the same; when the winged mare repeats the word ‘son’ and seems to withdraw, Ilma can guess it wasn’t a prediction about flowers and rainbows that she must have outed in front of the soon-to-be mother.

    Her amber gaze tries to catch the other mare’s, but the latter turns - unwilling to face it. But whatever Ilma thinks she had said… the lack of explanation when the ethereal mare had asked, the lack of eye contact - there must be more.

    ”Oceane,” she calls her back softly but surely, ”I cannot see the past.” It’s a bit of a guess, but she is relatively sure about it. She steps forward a bit, stretching her nose, wanting to touch and reassure, but hovers there in the last moment, unsure if her touch will ignite something else. ”Please tell me about it. Don’t let it poison your mind.”

    and shooting stars cannot fix the world


    @[Oceane]
    Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
    Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time
    #10

    O C E A N E
    Hath in her veins,
    to beat and run,
    the glad indomitable sea,
    the strong white sun.


    Oceane nearly ignores Ilma as she calls out for her, unwilling to share a story with a practical stranger that she hadn't even found strength enough to share with Castile yet. But the ivory woman's voice is just the right combination of soft and confident, and it reels the opaline pegasi back into the conversation but only after Ilma mentions the past.

    Does she have abilities beyond what she has stated? The Loessian pegasi would not be surprised (not when she, herself, hides the magic abilities that Beqanna's fairies have graced her with), but she achingly hopes that the ambassador truly cannot see into the events of her young adulthood. A shaky breath falls from her maw and, with hesitation, she pivots back around to face Ilma once more. Her worried amber eyes collide with Ilma's green ones and she shakes her head worriedly.

    "I can't," her lip quivers and it forces her to pause, making it seem for just a brief moment that she may be refusing Ilma's help, but then ─ "I can't lose another son. Not again." Her heart threatens to beat straight from her chest and her nostrils flare in response to her hyperventilating. Oceane swings her head low to the ground and stomps her hooves with agitation against the hard-packed earth of Loess. She unfurls her wings but, even in her current state, knows that she best not take to the skies and so she simply opens and closes them a few times before trying to settle herself.

    "Ilma," she whispers, her voice begging and her molten amber eyes closing, "Will they hurt him?" She doesn't know what the woman can and cannot see, but Oceane cannot bear to think about a future here if there is a chance her son will be harmed.



    @[Ilma]
    " "

    neamrel / thedayofshadow
    i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
    and all i ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by




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