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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]  i've been running from something, any
    #11
    @[rembrandt] your camouflage has mutated into bloodlessness
    Reply
    #12

    one lives in hope of becoming a memory

    I am no stranger to fear (or any other emotion, for that matter). I had spent my life immersed in the depths of others’ emotions, whether they wanted me to be or not. So it’s hard not to notice the panic that rises within the stallion, despite his best efforts to hide it from me, and it colors my own emotions as well. With his panic and fear comes a tinge of fear within myself. Seeing as this was not something of his own doing, I can only assume that this is the work of the monsters. I had heard rumors of them…changing the residents here, but I hadn’t yet seen it myself. Now that I had, I’m not too sure how comfortable I am with the whole situation.

    I shift uncomfortably as he admits that he doesn’t know what is happening. Though it is a rather useless task, I cast my eyes into the shadows surrounding us, looking for any signs of these monsters. Of course, I see nothing. This is possibly even more unsettling. Memories from the incident with my sister come flooding through me, and I think I may have accidentally sent him the memory in my momentary lapse of concentration. He would see the unnamed, black shape as it turned its attention from attacking my sister to going after my brother, and my half-hazarded attempt to kill it upon Cheri’s demand. Of course, I hadn’t killed the thing, it had simply slipped into the darkness, as if it had never been there in the first place.

    The stallion seems eager to move on from the ordeal, however, so I shove these thoughts from my mind as well and focus on the conversation at hand. Then he asks me something that throws me off a bit. I stand there, blinking and staring at him for just a second, trying to scrounge for a good enough answer, but in the end, there’s nothing that constitutes as a good answer. Even so, I try my best to explain it to him. “Well, the darkness has been here for over a year, and there are no signs that it will let up anytime soon. Life goes on, right?”

    Well, maybe life doesn’t go on in all areas. Light is needed to sustain plant life (without mother’s or my abilities to revive them), and plant life is needed to sustain our lives. I can’t help but wonder if there are herds that have experienced a stagnation in life, or even its possible end, due to the lack of sunlight. It also brings a feeling of appreciation for the good fortune we have had in Taiga, that no one has suffered too greatly at the expense of the darkness.

    Image by Calcifer



    @[rembrandt] figured I’d give you one last chance to mess with Rem’s abilities. XD
    Reply
    #13
    Rembrandt
    He wonders how it’s possible. How the dark things could manipulate the magic without his noticing. How they could slip in without his perceiving them. He wonders what shape they might take, if they work their way in with the air. 

    But his thoughts are scattered by the memory that creeps in unprompted. It does not belong to him and he does not fully understand this magic either. His magic has always been so limited and he has been away so long that he has forgotten all of the different ways the magic in Beqanna has mutated. It does not immediately occur to him that the memory belongs to her, that he is experiencing the memory as she had lived it.

    The soft-edged shape, not quite equine but not quite anything else either as it moved from one horse to another. A sharp flash of fear, uncertainty. The unsuccessful kill. 

    Rembrandt grits his teeth.

    He has no means of protecting himself against these dark things. He will leave, he knows. He will go back the way he came and he will find the sun wherever it was that he lost it. There is no home left here for him. Perhaps the rest of Beqanna’s inhabitants will be forced to leave, too, he thinks. What will become of Beqanna then?

    He clears his throat.

    Does it?” he asks, though he does not expect an answer. He is not as certain it will, though he supposes it does not matter as much to him as it must matter to her.

    FALLING FEELS LIKE FLYING UNTIL YOU HIT THE GROUND



    @[Memorie] thank you lmao

    @[The Monsters] please mess with his bloodlessness!
    Reply
    #14
    @[rembrandt] your bloodlessness has mutated into rots in shadows
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