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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


    [open]  Sometimes life seems too quiet-any
    #11
    Rain doesn’t always fall here, but when it does, she catches it all the same, unknowingly tossing it over the canvas of her shoulder. Painting portraits of the Season without an artist's hand, it is a curious knowledge, progressing without thought or practice.

    Even if she could control the process, the sound of weather only unfolds a half formed mural, and internally the sights of such things play out much differently.

    The mind’s eye is a strange, unusual thing.

    Beneath the protection of a shade tree, the storm becomes a -pitter patter- tempo against the umbrella cover. Jenger would remember this day, so few pleasant experiences have crossed her path and years from now she would unfold the parchment of this tale with a tender hand. Delicately touching the fragile, yellowed paper with a shaking finger and warmth beaming in her cheeks.

    “There’s so much life, out in the open like this,” dipping her head in agreement to a peaceful Meadow. It was the sort of friendly place that made her feel welcome, even in times where she had been dismissed. 

    “Ischia,” trying the name for the first time, testing it with her own voice.

    . “I’ve never heard of such a place.” They did not explore, or congregate near the Kingdoms, seeking refuge and sanctuary in the freelands. It had always been that way, ever since she can remember, and it remains much the same now- even in her solitude.

    “Mother won’t come,” she admits, turning her face to the side, baring a cheek to her new companion. ”Even if I wanted her to, she just…” there are no words that would make the feeling less sharp, so she doesn’t finish what she might have said.

    “I’m afraid I don’t know how to swim,” her face begins to curve back, unshed tears still lingering in the corners of her foggy eyes.

    I’m afraid.
    jenger
    words:  tags:  HTML by Call
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    #12

    H A L C Y O N
    no better version of me
    i could pretend to be tonight


    Halcyon watches Jenger expectantly, offering her a boyish crush on a platter with a tentative smile and a quivering hand. The invitation to experience Ischia is more than a simple attempt at recruiting today ─ his green feline eyes are fixed on the beautiful sky-swathed mare, only faltering when he realizes that he has been staring for far too long.

    She can't see him, he knows, but that makes no difference. Does one ever know how to act normal around their first childhood crush?

    Halcyon would be surprised that she had never heard of Ischia if he had found her in one of Beqanna's many kingdoms, but it almost seems fitting that she has been sequestered away from the politics of their continent. It feels refreshing, after spending a year in Loess surrounded by it and then being faced with it again upon return to his island home.

    He smiles at Jenger, sheepish and innocence, but the expression falters when finally Jenger speaks again.

    Mother won't come.

    A frown twists at the corners of his mouth as he tries to decide whether it would be inappropriate to invite Jenger on her own, just she and he ─ and Halcyon would look after her, make sure to guide her, if only ─

    I'm afraid I don't know how to swim.

    His hopes are dashed, deflated like a balloon inside his lithe chest. "Oh," he says, squeezing that last bit of air from his lungs when finally his eyes notice the welling in her cloudy ones. "Are you... are you alright, Jenger?" His throat his dry, it threatens to close. "Have I said something wrong? I didn't mean... I didn't know..."



    @[Jenger*]

    n | f
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    #13
    Why is she so crestfallen?

    Tears make her foggy eyes glisten, stain the corners dark, now a girl is thankful for the rain- J could pretend the stray raindrops found her face. It only hurts when she lets it, caught off guard, feeling the walls she built falter and crack- they have always been weak and incomplete.

    The same way she is-

    “It’s not your fault,” a sniffle, congestion taking her nasal passages with a sadness that breached her airways. Softly grows a feeble smile, shaking her head until strands of her mane catch, and stick to the damp bridge of her nose. The dip in his tone makes her sorry herself, quickly dismissing any faults, swift to accept his accident.

    He doesn’t mean to, and neither does she.

    “Mother is a cold creature,” a simple enough statement, voice falling to a whisper as she leans in, a secret- yet another thing to frighten her. Being caught saying such things makes her uneasy, like most other, otherwise trivial, things do too. Breathing life into her doubts and downfalls, making them more real with each spoken syllable.

    “Cold in here,” an outstretched nose protrudes forward, touching gently at his chest, the place his heart might rest near his lungs. This closeness is short lived, the velvet of her lips delicately pressed against his striped skin and then retracted soon after contact.

    A long time ago, when she was still spindly legged, she fell in the River- flailing in the current with wild movements. The steady, albeit awkward, words of her savior calmed her and helped urge her to the banks safely.

    (Kind words, spoken in a broken language, struggling over sentences with a form that felt so strong- whole and unburdened. Tioga, Jenger doesn’t know why the woman fought for her life the way Mother never did, but she was grateful that day. Afraid to die, but scared to live.)

    “The water scares me,” words manage to form in the same quiet tone. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
    jenger
    words:  tags: @[Halcyon]  HTML by Call
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    #14

    we wear the mask
    that grins and lies


    She frees him of any culpability with quivering speech and a small, weak shake of her head ─ but neither make Halcyon feel as if he is free from fault. Is this what it is, to feel empathy? His mother spoke of it often, had taught him that empathy was a great gift to possess. She had told him that the world would try to convince him not to feel that empathy ─ and he understands why, now that he feels pain in the knowledge that he cannot free Jenger from hers. The young tiger's breath catches then, as she whispers to him secrets of her own mother ─

    and still, his heart aches for hers.

    The ache grows, as she reaches out to touch his chest. Cold in here. His thoughts turn to Aquaria and her warmth ─ and oh, how thankful the Ischian boy is for the relationship he has with the finned woman. He nickers for Jenger, his feline eyes watching her closely as he reaches out with his warm muzzle to touch her. He lingers, only inches away, to let his warm breath wash against her skin before he diminishes the space between them to nothing once more. The touch is brief, but its warmth is genuine.

    "It's safe," he murmurs to her quietly as worry knits between his brows, "But I don't want to make you do something you don't want to do." The confession is whispered intimately, and he makes no attempt to hide the worry in his voice. "I... I think you would like it, though. It's warm all the time and ─" he trails off, wondering if he is about to overstep, but makes the plunge anyway, "─ and my family is there. They would like you, I just know it. And I could... I could make you happy, when you're feeling sad." He wills his mind to reach out with tendrils of Happiness again ─ tentatively, testing, and ready to retract if she does not want his emotional interference.


    @[Jenger*]
    ""
    n | j
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