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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]  places i've not seen before, any
    #1
    ( MY DAYDREAMS LOVE THE VIOLENT COLOR OF YOUR LIPS
    AND THE NIGHTMARES THAT ACCOMPANY IT )
    It had been an accident.
    One minute she had been in Pangea, practicing her teleportation in the river, and the next moment she had surfaced in some rough sea. She had fought against the waves as panic seized her, gasping for air as the water pulled her under and then forced her back to the surface again. The crushing darkness did little to help her orient herself and there had been no hope of her teleporting back to the safety of the river in Pangea. So she had struggled to keep her head above the violent, churning surface of the water and the waves had eventually spit her onto a stretch of unfamiliar beach.

    And it is here that she remains, collapsed in the sand as she tries to regain her composure. She keeps close to the water, as if doing so will limit the possibility of drawing any attention to herself before she can build up enough strength to get back to Pangea. 

    But the fight to keep her head above water had been long and hard and her heart is still hammering out a frantic, staccato beat in the cavern of her chest as she lies there in the sand. Her porcelain sides heave and fear settles heavy in the pit of her gut. Her father will be worried sick, she knows. Will he tell her mother? Will she send the dark magicians after her? Will they find her?

    A tremor steals down the length of her spine as she considers the alternative. What if someone else finds her first? She has no way of knowing whether or not she has landed herself in hostile territory. Does Pangea have enemies? She is too sheltered by her father to know much about politics. If someone finds her, will she be better off not telling them where she came from? 

    She makes a silent promise to herself that she’ll never use her water teleportation again once she’s safely back home in Pangea.  

    amathea



    @[The Monsters] PLEASE take her infrared vision?
    Reply
    #2
    @[amathea] your infrared vision has mutated into lunar protection
    Reply
    #3
    Gale
    this is going to break me clean in two --
    this is going to bring me close to you



    The long-legged octopus had not noticed her arrival, tucked tightly as he was in a deep crevice of volcanic rock. Her struggles to stay afloat, her valiant effort to climb to shore, her life hanging in the balance - they mean nothing at all to the dozing cephalopod.

    Only when the octopus becomes Gale again, when he climbs up onto the shore to find a bedraggled girl-child where there should be only wood and weeds, does he become concerned.

    Stepping closer, he pokes at her gently, finding that she feels strange to his soft blue nose.

    Strange, but not dead, so he takes a step back and pokes her a little more firmly with his hoof instead.

    “Could you please not die on my beach?” he requests politely, “The last thing I need is a snack bar on the shore to draw the Monsters in.”

    @[amathea]

    Reply
    #4
    ( MY DAYDREAMS LOVE THE VIOLENT COLOR OF YOUR LIPS
    AND THE NIGHTMARES THAT ACCOMPANY IT )
    She does not remember drifting off, but she wakes with a start. She lifts her head, heart pounding, uncertain what has woken her. She blinks wearily into the darkness, swallowing thickly as she tries to determine exactly what had startled her from her slumber.

    The sound of the stranger’s voice arrests her heart in her chest and she scrambles to her feet with a strangled yelp. She moves to put as much space between herself and the stallion as she can, which leaves her standing ankle-deep in the surf, trembling as she turns to face him. 

    I’m sorry,” she blurts and she can hardly hear the sound of her voice over the hammering of her heart and the rush of blood through her ears as fear seizes her. She grits her teeth in an attempt to stop their chattering, trying in vain to steel herself against the tremors coursing through her. “I just…” she swallows again, her heart lodged into the narrow space at the base of her throat. “I got lost by mistake, I was just… I was just resting before trying to go home.

    She sucks in a sharp breath and shakes her head. “I don’t think I was going to die.” 

    amathea



    @[Gale] idk why my table is messed up but i'm too lazy to fix it right now i'm soRRY
    Reply
    #5
    Gale
    this is going to break me clean in two --
    this is going to bring me close to you



    His prodding is effective, and the blue and white horse wakes. Then she runs away, and he wonders if perhaps that strange-feeling skin was more sensitive than horse flesh. He’d not meant to hurt her, and as she shakes in the surf, he gets the impression that perhaps she’s even younger than he’d thought. Gale is not the best at aging children. This one is at least three weeks old, he’s sure of it.

    (Gale uses ospreys as his metric, having once watched a nest of Erne’s chicks from hatching to flight)

    But three weeks is still rather young, so Gale tries a friendly smile, feeling rather relieved himself that she’s not actually dying.

    “Well that’s good. The closest healer is in Tephra.” With his self-healing, Gale has never worried much about such things. His stomach rumbles, and it reminds him that he’d been on his way to find something to eat when he climbed back up on shore from the ocean.

    “So I’m gonna go get a snack? You can hang out here on the beach if you want. Or whatever.” Gale shrugs, disclosing his lack of interest, but does add in case she also happens to be lost: “Tide should be out in a few hours. Walk straight that way to Ischia, and that way to Tephra.”

    He alters her vision for just a moment, illuminating the paths that she might take to leave the island, and then turns his blue gaze back to the papaya grove as his stomach growls again. There is a gnawing sensation that he is forgetting to do something, or perhaps say something, but Gale cannot recall the proper social niceties for finding a sad baby on his doorstep.

    “So...” he tries, taking a step toward breakfast. “You good then?” Should he offer her food? He frowns, not necessarily at her, and looks back at the trees.

    @[Amathea]
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