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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


    [private]  will a gentleness come?
    #1

    the ocean rumbles and you ache



    Loess.

    A simple word to call a place; unique enough to make it different from any place he has been to.

    "Melitusa is the pride and joy of our Lord, you are to remain here.  You will find her beyond your expectations."

    He tsks, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he continues moving away from the field and paths.  Just a place, just a name, a name meant to be remembered like hundreds of others he has heard.

    (It is tiring, but only he will ever know that he feels this way.)

    So away from the field, the paths, the people he goes.  A general place is in his mind and so like a diligent little follower he goes towards it.  It is not one of the paths he had thought of taking (and so perhaps he has missed an opportunity he sorely needed) however when one such as himself is presented with something where nothing once was, well.

    (Honestly, he should have just gone another direction, but the roar of the ocean calls for him, giggling all the while.)

    He tries to keep her out, but a mother's smile shines brighter than the moonlight on cresting waves and the child calling his name is clearer than any shallow water.

    The trees become more sparse and as the landscape changes, it is then that Soran believes he is in the place the people of Beqanna call Loess.  It is then that he pauses among the rocky hills and simply looks.

    It is then that he faces the fact that he knows nothing about Beqanna, because only a fool would believe that this land is without rules and sovereignty.  From what he is seen, though, learning is done through word of mouth here.  There is no court where one can go to retrieve scrolls, and there is most certainly no structures beyond the landscapes formed by the earth below.

    (Something in his mind clicks, and while Soran would never call such things 'games' it is the only word he can use to describe what he needs to do.  A game to find out who is who and what is what; a game not to get ensnared and caught up in something he will have no chance of distancing himself from.)

    Fire crackles and chains rattle as they throw him before the consequences of his foolishness.

    He takes in a gentle breath, chest expanding before he carefully expels the air.  Then, he starts moving forward.

    Loess.

    So far there is only one person he knows that calls this place home.  He best hope he can find her.


    @[Oceane]
    neamrel
    #2

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


    "You came."

    Oceane greets the scarred man with some combination of surprise and pleasure; she had not expected for him to follow her the day she'd watched him stare down that trodden path in the Field, though - truth be told - she had not invited him outright, anyway. But to see him here is intriguing. It tugs at coiled theories in her mind as she comes to stand before him, all weaving tales of why Soran had decided to forsake the perfectly good path he'd originally found to find her here in the foothills.

    The dappled grey has found her today at the edge of a small hot springs, nearer to Loess' interior than its border. Autumn's quick advance toward winter has turned the opalescent woman into a homebody, and now that she has settled into an increased comfortability with her current condition - namely, the child who grows within her - Oceane has quietly taken to a slow meander of Loess for what she could deem to be the safest place for her to deliver the aforementioned fledgling.

    "I didn't expect to see you again," she says truthfully, though her tone and inflection are not unkind. There's a brief pause before she speaks again, where her amber eyes move to the scenery behind the taller man to search for any indication of the woman Desire and her beacon-like wings nestle tight to her sides, "What is it that brings you to Loess today?" It was adventure that had brought Oceane here a year ago, promised to her by Castile. She has not been disappointed thus far - but does Soran seek the same?

    A safe harbor to dock can also be offered, or even just a friendly conversation if it's loneliness he seeks to discard. But Oceane is not here to assume his intentions, and so watches the dappled man with curiosity as she awaits his reply.




    @[Soran] | "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

    soran
    he dreams of water

    It is quite apparent to Soran that his presence is a surprise to her, similar in how he is surprised to have actually run into her.  He comes to a gentle stop before the opalescent woman whose wings are still held close to her.

    In the back of his mind, he takes note of how she seems more comfortable here.  He supposes that anyone would be more comfortable in the land they call home than anywhere else (and if this statement holds true, is he ever really comfortable?).

    "I didn't expect to see you again."

    He smiles gently at that, for he can assure her that he thought the same when it comes to her.

    "Yes, well, it appears that even I am not invincible to the whims of fickle-mindedness." He speaks with a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle.  However, it does not cross the line of being harsh on himself, rather it is clearly lighthearted and meant to bridge the gap that Ocean and he being strangers creates.

    He notices her eyes —amber, shining like molten-honey against the autumn season— drift behind his shoulder, and Soran cannot help but angle his own neck to allow himself a glimpse behind aswell.  His peeping does not last more than a second, though, before he is returning cold eyes to her.

    His answer to her question is simple,  "If I am being honest, my own curiosity."  He admits, not feeling the dark urge to hide anything when nothing needs to be hidden.  "You know that I am simply a new face here.  I know nothing."  Something many would not openly admit to.  "And while I am sure I could have learned a thing or two from the young girl you met alongside me well... I'd rather not traverse the conversation that such a curious girl might want to have"

    He can remember the subtle glances Desire had taken at his scars, and Soran has never been good at evading the questions of young ones.

    They curse his name and existence to hell itself, fire crackles and they laugh and laugh and laugh.

    One supposes they should simply run from things when given the option.

    He gives Oceane a smile that's just a little tighter.  "So, perhaps you'd be willing to offer me even more of an olive branch, so to speak?"  He is hardly expecting such a kind gesture, but if one is nice then perhaps one might receive what they wish.  "Perhaps by telling me more of... Loess?"  The name still sounds foreign on his tongue.  "Or of anything, really — but I understand if not, truly." His speech stumbles over itself slightly, showing how he is truly trying to be sincere (had he spoke so hesitantly in front of the lord he advised for he would have been ridiculed).

    Clearly, he is out of practice.



    @[Oceane]

    neamrel
    #4

    O C E A N E



    There's just something about demure, unpretentious, self-deprecating humor that Oceane has always found to be particularly amusing. Falling from Soran's lips, a man who'd seemed upon first introductions quite troubled about where he was and where he was going, the jest catches Oceane off guard. Surprised laughter drips unexpectedly from her lavender muzzle and she bashfully turns her head away until she's able to regain control of the hard lines on her face.

    "Quite dangerous, those fickle minds," she responds with something edging on merriment as molten amber eyes return to connect with the scar-eyed stallion.

    He responds to her inquiry without hesitation or contention; there is nothing hidden behind the deep blue of his eyes and nothing precarious or troublesome in his tone. Simply here to speak his truth, Oceane listens politely to Soran's speech. She laughs again, good-naturedly, when he mentions Desire and her curiosity — though perhaps contrary to what the stallion had been hoping for, the opalescent mare's eyes shift instinctively to the scars that line his face and then slip to the ones visible on his muscled frame from this angle.

    'And what of my curosity?' she wants to ask him, but she holds her tongue and decides that she will wait until a more opportune time to inquire about the healed wounds he seems so determined not to talk about.

    Oceane nods at his request and her eyes soften, "It was a little over a year ago that I was in a spot similar to yours," she offers in acquiescence. Pivoting to face the same direction as Soran, the sun shines bright against the opal sheen of her coat. "Come," Oceane requests as she begins to meander forward and away from the hot springs, her pregnancy causing restlessness in her legs once again, "and I'll tell you about Beqanna."

    Once they are in comfortable step, side-by-side with his unfamiliar-yet-enticing scent accosting her nostrils periodically, she tells him what she knows about the land of Beqanna and the magic of the fairies who inhabit it, despite the secrecy of their appearances and names. Ensuring that she includes mention of the magic the residents also behold, the balefire Oceane takes special care to avoid speaking on her own ability.

    There will be time, perhaps when he tells her the history of his scars, that she will demonstrate what the fairies have bestowed upon her.

    She explains the concept of the kingdoms and those territories that fall within their political hold, adding in the names of those rulers she knows and those she has only heard of. "And that brings me to Loess," she adds with obvious pride laced into the words, "Protected by Castile, it's the kingdom that commands dominion of both the Pampas and Sylva."

    She pauses then, searching for more information to give him but finding nothing of true import. "What else can I tell you of my home, Soran? Or perhaps you'd like to tell me about yours."



    Soran | "SPEECH"

    n | t
    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

    soran
    he dreams of water

    He is caught off guard in his own way, surprised by the laughter that falls from her lips.  However, he is not surprised to see her try to regain her composure quickly.  He understands that in his own way.

    He has known hard lines and cold eyes for a long time; understands the use of having them and keeping them well at hand.  He hums in amusement at her comment,  "So I've been told."  So he has seen.

    A child giggles and his heart swells...

    She continues to show her well-placed amusement at his words, and it is not uncommon for Soran to draw gentle laughs from others but it has been some time since such laughter was heard around him.  Now, he has not minded the solitude given to him during his traveling, but it seems that he has forgotten he is able to do some things.  She beckons him forward, and Soran mindlessly lifts a brow.

    Then, he smiles, thankful and completely grateful for the generosity.

    (Perhaps, he should be more cautious, but who would ever believe one such as the glimmering woman that calls him to her side holds ill will?  Foolish, many would mutter, but one such as Soran does not take for granted the kindness of others.)

    "Thank you."  His gratitude is apparent as he moves along like a diligent follower.  This time, though, he does not feel shameful for following along.  Oceane is no lord that he lends an ever listening ear to.  Yet, lend her his ear he will.


    Their steps sync up as they walk side-by-side and he is grateful for the lull before she speaks.  Her voice washes over him in a calm and gentle manner, so contrasting with the rocking waves that continue to crash and pummel sand in his thoughts.  He keeps quiet, knowing his time to speak is not now.

    ("Fairies?" He cannot help but mutter incredulously, his head turning towards her with a look that silently calls her a liar.  "Like in stories told to children?")

    What a place he has found himself in.

    It is easy to notice the joy and pleasure that coats her words when she finally speaks the name of the kingdom they currently walk in.  He can remember feeling such when he used to introduce himself to those outside of the place he called home.  Soran of Melitusa, first advisor to our good Lord.  His stomach churns.

    He takes in a calming breath.

    "I believe you have told me a great deal, at least enough to quell my curiosity.  One can only hope your help keeps me out of trouble for a while."  He jokes, aiming a teasing smile towards her.  "And it would be unkind of me not to tell you of the place I come from, wouldn't it?"  He hasn't spoken of Melitusa in... what seems like years.

    "Melitusa is the place I come from,"  He admits, looking ahead of them as the name leaves his mouth.  His voice is indifferent.  "It is not a kingdom, or a land, simply a city."

    He then tells her of how places like Melitusa are built upon the wealth of one individual, and how that individual holds all the power.  There is no magic — only those graced as 'all-seeing' hold such power.  Kingdoms do not exist, and the land is simply one large territory with other places similar to Melitusa placed about it.  It is simpler, Soran supposes, when compared to Beqanna, but perhaps more complicated in its own ways.

    "We were one of the closest to the coast, and so many often stopped there before reaching the ocean."  That had always meant there were all sorts of people wandering through.  It is also why Melitusa had prospered.  He finally looks at her,  "It was a nice enough place, but a lot more different than here, don't you think?"  He questions as he draws his eyes back to the scenery around them.  Then, "Does that quench your curiosity?"



    @[Oceane]

    neamrel
    #6

    O C E A N E



    "It's no trouble. It was a kindness extended to me when I arrived," Oceane tells Soran with a tentative smile as he falls in step beside her, "It's only right that I continue the trend." He proves to be an attentive listener, only opening his mouth to blurt a rhetorical 'fairies?' Her smile widens, knowingly, and her violet head gives a gentle nod in affirmation. It isn't often (or ever, really) that the opaline pegasi has the opportunity to explain the oddities that exist within Beqanna, and in doing so Oceane finds that she feels a connection with Soran that she has not yet fostered with anyone else on the continent.

    She still feels a sense of wonderment each time she discovers something new about the land that has been her home for a year, and finds herself hoping that the scarred grey man currently keeping her company will behold that same awe for as long as she has.

    When finally her tales of Beqanna draw to a close and Soran graces her with a note of jest and a teasing smile, Oceane naturally responds in kind. She adjusts the feathered appendages at her side again as her newest acquaintance begins to speak with the intention of sating her curiosities. Like Soran, the blue and purple woman is a considerate listener. Nodding in acknowledgment during the pauses and shifting her gaze from the path before them to peek at him in her peripherals on occasion, she searches for anything in his tone that may betray the way he feels about Melitusa.

    Admittedly, it would have been difficult for the Loessian mare to tell him an equal amount of information about Nau-Aib. Perhaps his experiences in his homeland are warmer than the ones in her past that rise up like poison in her mind, or so she hopes. Oceane would not wish her own past on anyone she'd ever come across.

    Apart, perhaps, from Ivar.

    "A city?" she murmurs under her breath, uncertain of the term, though Soran's description of it does a sufficient job of bridging the knowledge gap. "I think I've seen a city before, but only one." She had been passing through, probably six months after she'd fled from the deserts of Nau-Aib, and while the residents had been pleasant enough (if not a little gruff), it had been too busy for Oceane to consider making it her home and so she'd continued onward.

    She gives his question a nod and a whimsical smile, "Quite different. I can only imagine the diversity," she adds, thinking on the characters she might have met had she decided to take up residence in the city she'd only glanced at.

    Soran finishes speaking about his homeland just as they come to the end of their journey. Before them, an expansive hot springs lay nestled between rocky outcroppings and desert shrubs. Steam rises from its surface, relieving Oceane of autumn's chill. "I believe it does." She grins at him warmly as her rhythmic hoof beats come to an end.

    "What are your plans from here, Soran? Will you stay in Beqanna?" Inexplicably, quite a large part of her hopes that he says he will stay, though she does her best to keep that hopefulness from her voice.


    Soran | "SPEECH"

    n | t
    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

    soran
    he dreams of water

    It occurs to him that, perhaps, not everyone knows what a city is.  Of course, how ignorant of him.  He would apologize for his fumble, but Oceane does not seem to linger on this for long.  At least in his eyes.

    Soran returns her whimsical smile with a much more subdued one.  "Yes, there was all manner of others, no day was like the other due to that."  And yet, he had still found the place small and suffocating after some time.  His small smile fades away.

    Steam rises, and Soran forgets once more.  Just as Oceane stops, so does Soran at her side.  Finding a hot spring here is surprising to him, and he silently wonders if this is a place others in Loess come to when the chill finally seeps into their bones.  His chin tilts down in thought but he feels her warm smile and it draws his blue eyes back to her.  

    Her next question is predictable, and there is no reason to try and not answer it.  However, he doesn't really know.

    He hums, looking back towards the hot springs and then he wonders.

    The best course of action would be to find somewhere to settle down, a nice quiet place that he can familiarize himself and just... call home?  The concept of such a place seems foreign and just for a moment, he admits to himself that he does miss the little child.  The young, carefree smile that greeted him and the press of their forehead against his leg as they forced him onto wherever it is the child wanted to go.

    Should he stay here?  He had planned not too long ago to hopefully learn all he could, didn't that make it sound like he was going to stay?  However, did he want to?

    He looks back to her, cool blue meeting bright honey, "I don't know, I had planned to maybe look around a little more but..."  his eyes drift away, thoughtful,  "What would you do?"  He asks, genuinely curious.  Then, another thought,  "Why did you decide to stay?"



    @[Oceane]

    neamrel
    #8

    O C E A N E



    Oceane waits patiently for Soran's answer, that unexpected hope of hers lingering in the pit of her stomach. Despite this, she is patient when he turns his azure gaze from her and back to the feathers of air that drift upwards from the hot springs. The opaline pegasi takes the opportunity to inspect her new friend; her own gilded eyes caress the scars that have long since healed on his face.

    She wonders what could have happened for him to gain those gashes, who he was in his past, who he still is now. Her lavender lips have pursed pensively in the maze of her thoughts when Soran pulls her back to him. I don't know, he says, as she moves from his scars and back to his bright gaze. She understands the hesitation; there are certain expectations that she had set when she'd been searching for a new home.

    Some she had been willing to compromise on, but not all. It was which expectations she found more malleable that had been the difficult part; and ultimately, it had been those expectations that had led her to bypass the city and the other smaller groups of civilization she'd encountered until arriving finally in Beqanna.

    What would you do?

    She smiles at him, offers a small bout of laughter. "Well... perhaps I am a bit biased now, but I would stay." Oceane pauses for a moment before rolling her winged shoulders in a shrug. "I stayed because I was intrigued. There is so much knowledge to be gained here and," she pauses again, amusement lining her words as she tries to find a more polite way of saying her primary trait is nosiness, "I have a high curiosity quotient."

    She shifts her weight and turns her amber eyes to the warm water basin and the horizon beyond it. "Where would you go, if not here?"


    @[Soran] | "SPEECH"

    n | t
    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

    soran
    he dreams of water

    When deep within his own thoughts, Soran tends to notice little.  It is something that has often led to unexpected hello's and sudden interruptions.  He has tried to remain more focused ever since coming to the realization that he can often get caught up in his own mind but, there has been little improvement.  This is why he does not notice the way Oceane inspects him like a puzzle.

    Perhaps, it is for the best, for the scars and how he came to have them is something he has never told another.  It is one of the quickest ways to make him hesitate.  Kind and gentle he might be but ask just that right question and he will stumble and waver so very easily.

    Once more she graces him with a smile, and oh how very gracious she has been with them.  Soran, again, is no stranger to smiles or laughs but it has been some time still.  The warmhearted aura that surrounds the woman at his side is so very tender and for but a moment he wonders what led to her being here.

    A silent, unknowing part of Soran makes a claim that it will never not return one of her smiles, and so he offers one that is warmer than some of the smiles he has given her before.  This smile is followed by a quietly amused laugh.

    "I promise I will not hold your loyalty against you."  He jests between the first pause she takes.  Soran then realizes that, perhaps, they might have similar traits.  He hums thoughtfully, lending a close ear to how she speaks of her curiosity.  Maybe he hasn't sated anything then.  "I'll remember that," he says with a teasing smirk despite the trickle of anxiety that spikes in his chest.  "If I have any more knowledge I can offer you I'll try my best to give it."

    His own gaze follows her's when she asks a question he himself has wondered before.  Where else? 

    "Anywhere."  He looks away from the land of Loess and at her opalescent face once more.  "If you did not have the bond that you do with that place, would you not want to learn and see all that you could?"  Of course, this was not the main driving force behind why Soran left but, he could pretend.  "You know just as well as I that there is more out there.  Besides, I have no reason beyond my own wandering and curiosity for being here."  He had only remained in Melitusa for the mother and child, once they were gone he left.

    "If I admit, I do tend to find myself only staying in places due to the people, though."

    Still, sometimes Soran does think about just... stopping.  

    "However, I might stay a while.  How do most feel about... wanders around here?"  He tentatively asks.  She has been more than kind to him — something he appreciates more than she will know — but he knows that not everyone will be like her.  "I hardly have much fight in me anymore, so any warning to keep my already shabby self whole would be greatly appreciated."  He jokes.



    @[Oceane]

    neamrel




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