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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]  Curiosity Killed the Cat
    #1

    Freedom was odd even after a year.

    Not so odd that he disliked it. No. It was odd that he had no one but himself to respond to. 

    Four years of studying, of beatings, of studying some more, had lead him astray of the monastery to... here. Kaenros wasn’t quite sure what or where here was but it didn’t much matter. A place was a place was a place. Another pass through, perhaps? Upon his arrival, the smell of wolves was no where to be found so he was certain this was not the land he had been searching for. In fact, the only scent his mismatched nostrils pulled was the brine of his own salt and sand crusted hide and the warmth of other equines. 

    In all honesty, he couldn’t believe the nerve he had had to think he wanted to wash ashore there if the place was even real. Intelligent or not, in the state he had arrived, he would’ve for sure been eaten. The weather had turned sour in an instant and there was nothing he could do but keep his head above water and pray to the old gods. The sky he had awoken too had been kind, something he assumed to be a still, overcast night. Or evening? Or perhaps even morning. But it seemed the wind had brought back the overburdened clouds that had thrown him off course to begin with in a world that still held light.

    Overhead, thunder rolled softly in the persistent midnight and he raised his head from the fodder he had been nosing through to draw in another heavy breath. Rain would be coming again soon. The burnished stallion didn’t quite know how much this new territory had gotten in previous days or even earlier this day?, but he wasn’t keen to be caught next to an unfamiliar river. He was sure he had seen a massive tree not too far in the distance when there had been a few scattered strikes of lightning and Kaenros was eager to see what kind of protection it could offer. He picked up his meandering walk, slipping into a smooth lope, and headed in the direction he had last seen the behemoth. 

    edited to fit swp
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    #2
    DRETCH
    ... and from your lips she drew your hallelujah
    I stalk the silent creature, winged and even darker than the eternal night. It is not one that I’ve seen before; nearly as large as a horse, more agile than any feline. Its wings are leathery, but quieter than a bat’s or a dragon’s. The furry, arachnid-like body is one I have a difficult time tracking, even with my eyes shifted to owl vision. The stench, though, that is what gives it away as it twists and wends through the most-traveled paths of the Forest. It is an acrid, sulfuric smell, even more potent than that of Niklas and his favorite hellhound, a trail easily followed. 

    I am not sure why Set’s leash is suddenly sprung free. No, not free. I know I’ll never be free, just as the mimic will never be free, though his status within our variegated pack is considerably lower than mine. No, not free … unrestrained? I shake my head, limbs gathered beneath me in a muffled gait, the cat’s paws I’ve temporarily replaced my hooves with lending me the silent passage I desire. I will not waste any more time musing on the whims of my great-grandfather turned pseudo-father. Gods only know what goes on in the mind of such a capricious creature. And of course I pay no heed to the irony of my disparagement, of a stallion whose wild ways have so obviously rubbed off on me as I chase some hell-monster beneath an unforgiving eclipse.

    A summer storm rumbles overhead, the black clouds carrying bellies of dim lightning that cracks and flashes now and again. No rain falls yet, but the swooping devil I follow will no doubt seek refuge in the only tree large enough to hold it … I veer off-path, ducking and dodging along crisscrossing deer trails, the trails of my childhood that I could find and follow even without sight. When I make it to the edge of the clearing where the tree stands, the air still holds the promise of rain, rather than the rotten-egg stench of the afterlife. I linger just beyond the treeline, unwilling to make myself a target when it arrives.

    The oak looms ahead of me, a brief flash of lightning revealing it lonely and unattended. It is quiet. Few come to these depths any more, remaining closer to what is known until the faeries or some god figures out a way to return the sun to Beqanna. My tail lashes against my side as I shift my weight, scanning the east tree-line for my quarry. It’s not the monster that emerges first, though. From the south comes a horse. I watch the stranger with narrowed eyes as he makes his way to shelter; the fluidity of his motion, the proud cant of his head. SKREEEEE! Like a devil’s claw on unyielding rock, the sound raises the hackles along my spine, the soil clenched between my claws. My head whips to the east, just as the leather-winged, spider-thing breaks through the trees. It flies just above the ground and I can see when it catches sight of the stranger. It would seem that its desire for shelter loses to its desire for mayhem, and it banks, streaking toward the stallion. I wonder if he can see it as it flies headlong into him. Surely he can smell it.
    html © dante.


    @[Kaenros]
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    #3
    It didn’t take the leggy stallion long to reach his destination. Or more nearly reach it. 

    The brisk wind carried with it a different smell than the comforting one of equines just a few horse-lengths before he broke the tree-line. This is one he knew as death and volcanic emissions, something he was familiar with sticking together. Kaenros’ curled ears pricked curiously as he continued to huff the air. Perhaps there were geothermic vents under the tree? If he could stay upwind of them he could benefit from the warmed earth while he waited for morning and avoid whatever poor creature had succumbed to the noxious fumes. 

    Long, black limbs pounded effortless against the well worn path beneath him, their master eager to learn of what lay beneath the grand tree. However, that eagerness began to wane when the scent grew fainter despite the wind not shifting in any drastic manner. A sense of nervousness began to set in as Kaenros broke the tree-line and entered into what he could only discern as a barren field. Sparse leaf litter shifted below him as he continued his path and he could not see any trees nearby any longer, cementing his theory. The prickle in his gut grew as he felt eyes watching him but the wind was not in his favor to detect the shape-shifting stranger. All the same, he turned his head to where he sensed the presence and was struck dead in his tracks by the screech that ripped through the already tumultuous night. 

    His small head whipped back around to face the tree, iridescent eyes white walled. The scent from earlier nearly overpowered him now, assaulting his mismatched nostrils as though blown directly into them like hot breath. It took but seconds to get close enough for Kaenros to see anything in the all encompassing darkness.

    He’d definitely take the talking wolves.

    His sinewy haunches launched him to the side of the hurtling monstrosity. He threw his head back and caught himself unceremoniously on his thin front legs, rear end sliding on the bare ground just out of reach of the thing’s front legs. The metallic stallion didn’t get a chance to make another leap as one of its many back limbs caught his flank. He let out a scream as it’s claws dug into his greying hindquarters, pain searing through him like fire. Reacting purely on instinct, Kaenros threw his rear legs back and was lucky enough to land on the front quarter of the arachnid-like beast when it turned to latch more of its claws into him. 

    It released him just long enough for him to hurtle forward once again, ducking his head to avoid another hit as it’s frantic wing beats crashed over him. He could hear them scrape the ground once then twice as it gained just enough altitude to avoid another kick, hot on his tail. The bay knew someone else was here, be it predator or prey. With the mere heartbeats it took for his part to play out, Kaenros was sure they were still in the vicinity and sure of where he felt their gaze.

    If he was going to survive the night, it was them or him. 


    @[Dretch] minor power play allowed in response; the monster can give him minor scratches/cuts/grab hold, dretch is allowed to shove him aside, etc. nothing major. he’s not a fighter but i’d still like him intact XD
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    #4
    DRETCH
    ... and from your lips she drew your hallelujah
    Lightning flashes again and I shift my body and head just enough to keep them both in sight. I can see the monster much better with the eyes of a great horned owl, even when the rumbling heavens randomly light up the mammoth oak and the surrounding clearing. The stranger snaps around to meet the creature head on, and I feel a bit of admiration when he twists his body and leaps agilely to the side. It is not very often that magic does not meet magic, not in the short seasons of my life at least. There are times that Set talks of when magic did not permeate Beqanna so thoroughly. When the kingdoms were fortresses of traited against traitless, even further divided by nature of character. He has raised me as he was raised – the only way he knows. While shapeshifting is a natural-born part of me, he often stymies it and forces me to rely only on my horse form. 
     
    I bare my fangs in a silent growl as the stranger shouts, the coppery smell of mortal blood scenting the humid air, his maneless neck ducking briefly out of sight as he lands a solid blow on the winged arachnid. It reels, chittering and clacking, before setting off after its now retreating prey. Its large wings are cumbersome beneath the reaching branches of the oak that it had sought shelter beneath and it is scrambling and frantic as its bloodlust peaks. It is perhaps not the most intelligent of Afterlife devils I have come across and though fighting it is not what I had originally intended when I started out after it … 
     
    I finally move, sprinting toward the combatants, the thrill of battle mixing with mortal trepidation in my blood. The depths of the Forest are ill-suited for a cheetah’s speed, so it is not a form I’ve used much, but out here in the open. I wince and grunt and hiss with the pain that comes with an especially unpracticed form, but it takes a back seat to the glorious speed with which I cover the ground. 
     
    It either does not see me coming, or it doesn’t care. I retain the owl eyes until I am nearly on top of them before the farsightedness becomes too much to bear. I shift to full cheetah and now the two are only dark shapes on an even darker background, but I’m close enough to accomplish what I’ve set out to do. I duck underneath a hairy back leg, banking sharply to duck under the other and leap, reaching out to swat at the thing’s abdomen with wicked claws. Grasping past its thick fur, they find purchase in flesh and I clench my teeth tight against the wrenching of my shoulder as it anchors me. Quickly I reach up with my right paw, back legs scrabbling, climbing just behind where its wings pump furiously. It reeks, its fur matted with gods know what, sulphur and ichor spilling from the small wounds my summiting open up. I laugh as I reach the center of its back, the air stirred up from its wings whipping my mane into a frenzy, claws firmly entrenched in flesh.
     
    “Oi!” I shout to the stallion who stays just a few paces ahead of my nightmarish mount. I nearly slip as it skitters left and then right. “Evasive maneuvers!” I shout unhelpfully, laughter thick in my throat. Then the hell-beast comes to a skidding halt. Ejected, I flip ass over teakettle, crashing into his hocks just as he kicks out again. Thankfully I am close enough the blow doesn’t break anything, but the air leaves my lungs with a loud ooph and I’m flung back into the monster’s path. I scramble wildly to all four hooves – I’ve lost my cheetah’s form now, my pale grey eyes squinting in the darkness – and I turn to face the oncoming beastie, blood dripping from a dozen different injuries. I can smell its fetid breath as it bears down on me, and with a flick of my head, I disappear. It stops again, wings limp at its side, unsure as lightning flashes again. If one were watching really closely, they might see a small moth fluttering above it … the next flash of lightning brings with it a loud squelching sound as I crush it with my moth-turned-elephant’s body. 
     
    “Ow, ow, ow, ow.” I’m laughing and groaning at the same time, horse once again, rolling about in the nauseating remains of the thing. 
    html © dante.

     
     
     
     

    @[Kaenros]
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    #5


    Any other lone predator would’ve taken that kick and retreated. They wouldn’t have risked a second or third that could’ve maimed or killed them. But this thing? It wasn’t any other predator. Despite bashing into branches with the tips of its leathery wings and a chase that would surely lead it into thicker terrain, it kept coming. Kaenros just hoped that the rough light path it was taking would hold it back long enough for him to pawn it off on the other creature in the field.

    His adrenaline fueled daze was interrupted by a soft hissing and grunting coming from ahead. It didn’t last long but was enough to give him a better point of reference as to where he needed to head. Just as black limbs began their slightly altered path, Kaenros launched from a sprint to another gear he didn’t know he had. He had caught sight of the cat-shaped thing just before it disappeared beneath the monster and was certain it was the reason the disgusting thing hadn’t backed off from difficult prey. Why would it when it had back up that he had lead it straight to?

    Stretching his head out even farther, he barely saw where the cat had launched itself and let out a half-whinny, half-snort of surprise. The stench that emanated from the wounds punctured in the arachnid beast was even worse than its body odor. Kaenros couldn’t believe the scene behind him, nor the feminine laughter now coming from the hell-born sight, but also couldn’t stop to take it in. He could just barely make out the cat between furious, teetering leather wings as the monster refused to give up on its pursuit of him despite its new passenger. The tree line couldn’t be too much farther now. He’d be able to slip away from this whole nightmare and break back to the shore. The queen of Palamov herself wasn’t worth this.

    ”Oi!”

    what?

    Kaenros turned his head to try to get a better look at whichever one of the predators had spoken. His iridescent eye flickering from the shaggy furred hell creature now rocking frantically to its smaller, feline rider clinging to its segmented back. That’s when the voice came again, the tone light and words almost playful. His shock kept him from fully comprehending exactly what was being asked of him but they weren’t truly meant for him anyways. The absolute, whole body numbness was overtaken completely by a chill that soaked into his bones when the pair suddenly disappeared from his limited view. Ears pricked to the sound of claws sliding through leaf litter, he planted his forelegs, tucked his head, and began to lash out in another wild kick. He wasn’t keen on letting it close enough to hook its claws in again.

    When he made contact, he let loose a half-squeal, half-snort. His target was much closer than he had prepared for. Just barely beginning to stretch his limbs out to land a blow, the weight that crashed into his hocks was lithe and firmly bound in thin fur and muscle, not even half the size of the beast. It was there for a brief moment before black capped limbs flung it back the way it had come. Kaenros landed heavily in the firm earth and pushed his long frame forward once again in another leap away from the scrambling noises and heavy panting behind him. Even if he had looked back now to confirm what had been caught in his kick, he wouldn’t have been able to make out the cat-turned-horse currently facing the still raging monster.

    It was only when the world grew still did his small hooves come to an uneasy stand, quite a few yards now from the pair of combatants. Finally the world was lit again. 

    The cat was gone and there stood a very confused looking beast. With its limp wings and almost lost expression flickering across too many eyes to count in the brief second of light, it almost looked pitiful covered in thick, oozing secretions that matted its black fur. He figured that had been the source of the new foulness in the air and the result of the now vanished cat’s claws. Kaenros’ limbs scream to run. To get away from the thing. But he couldn’t move until he knew where the other predator had gone. Though it didn’t seem interested in him, that chance was still there.

    With the next flash of lightning, he didn’t have to make that decision. From just above the hell-beast, a massive hairless creature had appeared. The now pitiful thing stood no chance. It’s last action had been to let out a sick, wet gurgle from its pulverized lungs trapped beneath the immense heft of the entity dropped above it. Still just out of range to view the stranger’s newest transformation, it was her voice and laughter that lead him to abandon his worry about the cat.

    The cat-giant that could also apparently turn invisible, had stuck her neck out to save him. Or perhaps just wallow in the remains of her kill. The wet sucking noises and rancid, sulfuric stench coming from the direction of the massacre painted a vivid enough picture for him, one he was thankful was at least mostly swallowed by the darkness as he very cautiously approached the now-horse(which was not surprising at this point in the ordeal).

    His brain, still fighting with his instincts to flee, took a bit longer than expected to formulate words. At least his tumultuous mind gave his body time to close the gap. Kaenros was sure to stop just outside of the splatter. With how the thing reeked, it’s bodily fluids could be corrosive or carry pathogens he wasn’t keen on catching. Head low to give one of the leathery wings a cautionary huff, he finally found his voice.

    "Are you alright?" was the best he could come up with. His tone was uncertain though there was genuine concern there. She had just been through quite the ordeal even though she looked wholly intact despite being batted around by wings and then his own legs. The multi-hued stallion’s wounds, all but forgotten with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins, were the only source of copper blood he could scent but she was rolling about in the remains of her kill. Beyond the all encompassing dark, the viscera clinging to the young mare’s well built frame made it hard to distinguish much of her dark features.

    Having allowed a few seconds to pass for her answer, he raised his delicate head back up to rest high above his narrow shoulders. With a soft dip of it, Kaenros spoke again with gratitude coloring his rich voice. "I must thank you for saving me," polite words stinging his throat on the way out. He was going to pawn this creature off on her to save his own hide while she had killed it for the both of them. Was it guilt that was eating away at the pit of his stomach or embarrassment that he was too weak to hold his own. The fresh gouges near his right hip had begun to make their presence known as his body began to calm, giving him something else to focus on. Nevertheless, he had to know more about how she had done it. ”You’re a shifter, correct? I’ve never seen either the cat or the hairless beast you turned into..." Iridescent eyes growing curious, he continued on with a curt jerk of his head towards the absolute mess of inky flesh, bone, and thick, black fur,  "Nor that thing."



    @[Dretch]
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    #6
    DRETCH
    ... and from your lips she drew your hallelujah
    Though shifting is a second nature to me, even into those forms that I am less than familiar with, it still fracking hurts. My skeleton throbs with the stress of so many shifts in a row, my muscles thrumming harmony from the physical exertion. The ichor is gelatinous and warm, coating my neck and back as I gasp with throaty laughter. Better to laugh and embrace the fire that scorches my insides rather than succumb to it.

    I can hear him approaching. My eyes change, wide, pale grey owl’s eyes once again, one of my most favored adaptations to this damned darkness. I blink several times as my surroundings brighten, the storm overhead beginning to fade as it moves further south. I cannot fault him for the caution, the guarded huff of a leathery wing attached to a sulfuric pile of mashed flesh. My laughter eases as his dual-colored face comes into view, upside down as I make no move to get to my feet just yet. Are you alright? he asks, and my lips spread wide in my father’s wild grin, another gout of laughter barking through my fangs at the uncertainty in the question. Am I alright? Have I ever been … alright? Rather than answer him right away, I roll to my side with a groan, pausing to take a deep breath before I lunge to my feet. Slipping a bit in the muck, my limbs tremble as I take mental stock. My hide is intact but I can feel deep bruising already forming along my sides from being launched and kicked. Head slung low, I peer up at him through the bits of forelock glued to my head with bits of otherworld-viscera.

    A stranger, as most are to me, his eyes wide with adrenaline and another emotion I’ve had little experience with and do not recognize – concern. I must thank you for saving me, comes his polite address and I raise my head, exchanging the owl’s eyes for my own in order to keep in focus. Flanks still heaving from the evening’s action, I find myself grinning again, lips twisted wryly. It had not necessarily been my intention to save him, per se. Typically, I am a selfish creature by nature, driven even further so by the nurture of my upbringing. I’m not exactly sure, actually, why I leapt into the melee rather than simply fading into the relative safety of the forest and so I answer his thanks with a noncommittal roll of my shoulders. The devil’s stink and gore is beginning to dry and like the barbaric heathen that I am, I stretch out with a groan and give a violent, canine-like shake. I should apologize when I realize my social folly, bits of the monster’s flesh flung in all directions – including his – but I only shift my weight and find his curious gaze in the darkness.

    You’re a shifter, correct? I’ve never seen either the cat or the hairless beast you turned into ... I follow his shift in attention to the mess I’ve made. Nor that thing. Again I laugh, a low chuff and another roll of my shoulders. “I’ve never seen one of those either,” I reply, my voice a light tone that belies my fighter’s build. “There are loads more out there,” I gesture toward the tree line with a jerk of my encrusted head. “They came with the darkness.” I note the way he seems to favor one side, the faint coppery scent of mortal blood underlying that of the monster’s. Frowning, I do not ask him about it – I’m no healer, and pain is only weakness leaking from the body – and again seek out the iridescence of his eyes. “It’s in my blood.” I answer his earlier question proudly, my shifter abilities my greatest treasure. “Elephants are harder than cheetahs. Although, I do not get to play with either form often.” I wrinkle my nose, grey eyes dancing. “Once I tried to do the same thing to Niklas but the rat bastard just went all shadowy and his hellhound took a chunk out of my rear.” I cock my head to the side. “Wait. Where have you been that you’ve not seen any monsters yet?”

    html © dante.


    @[Kaenros]
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