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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]  could i use you as a makeshift gauge; anyone
    #1

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
    of how much to give and how much to take
    Ivar does not come to the mainland during the winter. Even this early spring day is cool enough to remind him why, and the water that streams past his scales as he moves upriver is cold with snowmelt from the Hyalinian mountains. The kelpies does not the cold, and he is uncharacteristically quick to leave the water when he finds a shallow enough bank. The sun is not strong, but the air does not dilute it like the water does, and Ivar grows warmer as he drips dry beside the river.

    Having shed his fins as he left the water, Ivar is left with a wet and heavy horsehair tail instead, which he flicks irritably against his tr-colored body. Most of the scales that cover him are a deep sapphire, and the white of his tobiano markings is made of scales as pearlescent as the inside of the shells he collects for Isobell. The thin lines of gold that separate them are gild on the lily (as if Ivar has ever been compared to something so delicate), but somehow a fitting compliment to the rest of the creature. The face that peers out from beneath his tangled mane is equine, but perfectly so.

    Even the scowl over his golden eyes is perfect, even the glint of sharp teeth within his mouth.  He is unwilling to let go of those even when disguised, knowing that in this world of pacifists sharp teeth alone do not make a creature dangerous. He means to find someone with that type of thinking, someone eager to be swept off their feet by a handsome stranger. His children are growing hungry, having lost the last of their autumn-gained weight. Hunting is easiest in the fall, but prey is not scarce in other seasons – simply more difficult to separate from the rest of the herd.

    The sound of feet in the distance cause him to turn his head to where something is moving in the trees nearby. They’re coming his way, Ivar realizes, and grows still.


    and i'll use you as a warning sign
    that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind
    Reply
    #2
    i think i'm better on my own but i get so lost in you
    It was rare for her to be separated from the twins, but this morning she had awoken with a sudden urge to simply be alone. She did not mind being a mother even if it was not something she had ever seen herself as. She supposes the fact that both girls were simply stunning certainly didn’t hurt, and she understood now why her own mother had preened and fawned over herself and her twin brother when they had been born. It was difficult to not touch and marvel at something so perfect.

    Left in the capable hands of their father, Desire slipped away in the early morning light. She hadn’t the faintest idea just what she planned to do, but she is sure she will happen across something, or someone. She follows the gentle bends of the river, and the spring sunlight warms the deep purples and black of her skin, the scattering of stars seeming almost out of place in the bright of day. She has grown into the curves and angles of her body, and the bottomless black of her eyes no longer seems quite as unnerving as it had been when set against the face of a child.

    But she was still young, and still prone to being foolish and reckless, and that inability to think through consequences is why she does not hesitate to approach the impossibly handsome stranger that she sees standing in the distance.

    “You didn’t actually go swimming in this, did you?” She says to him with a laugh as she comes closer, noting the still dampness of his heavy mane and tail. Despite the darkness of her eyes there is a noticeable light to them, one that glitters with amusement and it seems to soften the sharp lines of her face. “That had to have been freezing.”

    i think i'm better on my own but i'm so obsessed with you
    desire
    Reply
    #3

    I V A R
    i'll use you as a makeshift gauge
    of how much to give and how much to take

    The approaching stranger is female and star-spangled. As delighted as he is by the first thing, he is equally put off by the cosmic indicators that she is likely one of Carnage’s many children. Ivar does not like magicians, nor anything distantly tied to them. And yet as the white-legged mare draws nearer, Ivar reminds himself that of the magicians he knows, the dark god is the least likely to take offense to Ivar doing away with one of his progeny. Yet he is undoubtedly the most powerful.

    It is a conundrum that grows all the more insistent as she stops in front of him, and Ivar finally shakes it away. His head tosses back and forth enough to spatter them – but mostly him – with cold water. When he focuses again on the mare the words she’s been speaking when he’d shaken, his golden eyes are not apologetic. “I do prefer it warmer,” Ivar says, his voice rough but his smile impossibly charming. There’s no indication that he means to apologize for possibly getting her wet. The kelpie is curious how much she intends to resist; testing prey by making them mildly uncomfortable is second nature to his kind. He takes a step closer to her.

    “Perhaps you could help me get warm?”

    She is still just out of reach when he stops, though his head is pulled up and he is sure he could touch her before she bolted. Ivar relies on his looks to get him this close, on the novelty of the creature he is, but he does not move closer. A shiver runs down his spine. It is anticipation, but it looks like a reaction to the cold. His hide is made of scales, not fur, meant for protection and for sleekness in the water but not for warmth. This close, he can smell the man and milk on her.  A glance beyond her shoulder reveals no one following her immediately, and Ivar dismisses them.

    She’d have been a better find a few months ago, with a child still in her belly. But a few months ago, he’d have had to come to the River in winter to catch her. Ivar once again finds himself debating whether to proceed. Where has this penchant for thinking come from? The has been spending too much time on land. Too much time doing things other than what he needs for survival. He will take this one, he decides, and return to the ocean for a good long while. There is a large enough herd on his island to feed his children for a while, Ivar decides.

    He recalls his last visit to the common lands with uncomfortably clarity, which is what has stopped his approach. The pair of winged women in the Field had been unexpectedly crafty beneath their pretty faces, and this starry mare in front of him might be hiding something equally nasty. He would rather find out now; he would not like a nasty surprise when they get into the water. “Is beauty the only thing you have mastered, or are you hiding other skills behind that pretty face?”

    Ivar hopes the answer is no; he is not sure he’s the energy for a long hunt.

    @[Desire]


    and i'll use you as a warning sign
    that if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind
    Reply
    #4
    i think i'm better on my own but i get so lost in you
    There is a flash of irritation when he shakes himself off and flings cold water on her in the process, but Desire has learned not everyone was raised with proper manners, and though this is a strike against him, it’s not enough to make her leave. The pointedly unapologetic look in his eye is, in fact, what keeps her there. He was looking at her in a way as though he expected her to react; to either be angry or offended. But her momentary annoyance is replaced by indifference, though really it is masking her piqued curiosity. This felt like it might be the beginnings of a game – something dangerous and unpredictable.

    It was not possible for someone to be as handsome as him and not be dangerous, because if there is anything she has learned about pretty things, is that rarely are they just for looks.

    He steps closer to her, and it does not occur to her to step away. She is used to strangers wanting to come closer, either because she has drawn them closer by crafting herself into an illusion of someone they want, or simply because they are intrigued by the galaxy that spills across the white of her skin. He wants something, but she cannot figure out what. A quick perusal of all the usual checkpoints leaves her empty-handed, since there did not currently seem to be anyone that this man was romantically desiring – not even her, though he was examining her so closely and feeding her some line about keeping him warm. “Keep you warm?” She feigns a look of surprise, as though she is flattered he would ask such a thing of her. “You can’t tell me a handsome man like you doesn’t already have someone else honored with that job. I’d hate to make her jealous.”

    It is her turn to take a step closer now, to get a better look at the golden edging and the sapphire blue of his scales. She reaches out to touch him, perhaps a little too boldly, since he is entirely unreadable to her. The texture is unlike anything she has felt yet, having somehow avoided all the dragon-creatures that seem to crawl across this land. She laughs at his question, expelling a warm breath across his skin, her black eyes artfully avoiding his face as she lies without so much as a flutter of her pulse, “No, being pretty is the only thing I’m good at.”

    i think i'm better on my own but i'm so obsessed with you
    desire


    @[Ivar]
    Reply




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