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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


    [private]  She's A Mercenary With Perfume - Reave
    #1

    a bright and dangerous spark

    Silver Cove had been a hard place to let go of when the time came to finally say goodbye. Cheri had enjoyed its simple bounties, the lush fields of sparkling grass that covered the low mountain valleys and stretched as far in one direction as the eye could see. The vision went on for miles, uninterrupted by clustering trees or high obstructions of any kind, and it had left the pegasus mare with an astounding feeling of wide open freedom. She could’ve taken off and into flight from nearly anywhere; the four directions waited on either shore, begging to be explored and discovered, but her duty lay like a firm thorn growing out from the west. Prickly, it hid underneath the rosy guise of being a Kingdom jewel: Loess, the Heart of Beqanna, both a glorious homeland and yet still something of a prison for the young diplomat who had to share its prosperity with the likes of the Pampas Prince, Obscene.

    The black Fae was a perpetually dark cloud on Cheri’s horizon, and no matter how hard she mustered the winds of fate to blow him away they only ever seemed to push him closer. “He’s a foul omen.” She told herself as she flew sluggishly above the rooftop of their world, Hyaline. “You should put him out of your mind for good.” Her conscience bid her, but as always the reality of actually making that happen was harder than it seemed.

    For all her efforts at concealing it, Cheri couldn’t seem to ignore the way her heart still pined over him.

    She pushed harder, her mood now souring with the weather as a mid-morning storm rolled in from the far north. It swept quickly toward her, interrupting the trip she’d planned to execute which would’ve sent her quickly into Nerine for a visit, before trekking south on foot to check in with her childhood herd and then finally heading home to Loess again. The warm rains fell in heavy loads from the sky and brought her down, forcing the appaloosa mare to take a precarious landing on a multi-leveled cliff high above the rocky shoreline below.

    Ducking under an overhanging boulder, Cheri sighed.

    “Always when I’m angry.” She accused the rain, hardly aware of how true that statement actually was. It was beginning to get a little odd, the circumstances of her bitter emotions always being mirrored by a crazy, pop-up downpour. But like most of her problems these days she dismissed it for happenstance, leaning back against the rough, slick walls of the ironclad crags while the sound of crashing ocean waves echoed up the sea-bitten stone.
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    @[Reave] finally! <3
    #2

    i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high

    Storms are nothing new on the windswept stretches of rocky coastline. The weather was always waiting out at sea, whipping the waves into a frenzy until they crashed upon these beaten shores. It suits Reave, though he hardly pays any mind to it. He has grown so used to the craigy cliff-lines and boggy moors, the weather that could change with little notice, that this new storm sweeping doesn’t seem anything unusual.

    At least, until he sees who is heading the storm.

    Cheri. A delight begins to grow in his breast, and he sets off along the coastline to intercept her. She could have flown on. He had seen her trying, one of the tangled lines that lead forward, but she would have been incredibly foolish to do so. And the Cheri he once knew was hardly a fool.

    When he finally reaches the overhang she had taken shelter in, he is soaked. The flaxen strands of his mane and forelock cling to the red and white of his skin, drawing patterns across the glow of his bone mask. He cares little though, his blue eyes still gleaming with bright anticipation in the shadows of his armor. Rune, disgruntled to have been forced into the storm, dives almost heedlessly, dropping to the ground with an unusual gracelessness before quickly scuttling into the shelter of the stony outcropping, glaring at Reave as he fluffs his wet feathers.

    The eagle’s ill temper only serves to bring an amused grin to his lips.

    When he turns his attention to Cheri however, his features take on a decidedly impish cast. “Fancy having you drop in so unexpectedly.”

    reave



    @[Cheri]
    #3

    a bright and dangerous spark

    Through the driving rain and rolling thunder Cheri watched Reave’s incoming flight from underneath the cover of her spartan hideaway. She was sure of him - of who he was - long before she could make out any identifying markers, having spent so many days and sporadic passing hours in his company throughout their childhood. Between the larger moments in her life he’d been there, and it’d been his encouragement that gave life to Cheri’s wanderlust many, many years ago. Age might’ve broadened the distance between them and duty lengthened the time between visits, but Cheri could never forget the gift of the memories they shared.

    Seeing him descend from the storm clouds lifted her expression, even if it hardly seemed to pierce Cheri’s dour mood.

    She backed as much as she could to allow him room for landing, her dark yet captivating mouth twisting into a smile that was uniquely her own. A mixture of alluring and impossibly sweet, it suited her perfectly and disguised her heavier thoughts as the relative stallion and his eagle companion came one after the other to huddle with her, riding out the storm.

    “Fancy indeed, My Lord.” Cheri dipped the tip of her nose down in a graceful arc toward her forehooves, and then lifted her head again with an equally impish smirk. “I heard the news through the grapevine.” She laughed with kind sincerity. “You think I’d miss the opportunity to fly by and give you a proper congratulations?” Cheri feigned a wounded sort of look.

    She shook her head and tsk’d him, silently glad that the added weight of such responsibility hadn’t done anything to dampen his agreeable nature. He looked well; even under the sagging weight of a water-drenched mane Cheri could see how much the years had shaped him into something of a ruggedly handsome horse. “A family trait, for sure.” She considered quietly, knowing that the Northerners were a tight-knit band who kept their bloodlines and relationships close - interpersonal, almost. They seemed to mate among their own kind, a hardy type of hybrid breed that resisted dilution unless it, too, was enveloped into the fold. Unlike the lavish courts of the South where the best and brightest tried to outshine one another, they were more interested in developing lasting clans of family units. Their blood ran thick with salt and iron.

    Reave would do well leading the sweeping cliffs and haunted moors she thought, and she prayed quickly that his exterior of white-washed bone (which had been so off putting to her once upon a time) would soon become a symbol for the ferocity and hardiness they represented to their world.
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    @[Reave]
    #4

    i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high

    It’s hard to say whether it’s fortunate or unfortunate that Cheri had only ever found the brighter, happier sides of him. Her good opinion had been shaped on the levity of his youth rather than the chaos of what had followed. He doesn’t know if it will last, but in a way it is something of a kindness to have at least one relation who believes him capable of goodness.

    As he steps beneath the shelter of the overhanging stone, a smile lingers at the corners of his lips. His eyes are sharp beneath the glowing mask, fixed on the familiar green and black of the pegasus. There is a strange sort of awareness in them. One that could only be gained through a queer combination of insigh and hindsight. One that ran with a rare strength in their bloodline.

    He laughs at her greeting, unable to help himself. “You’ve picked up a thing or two while you’ve been away,” he quips, blue eyes gleaming with humor. He tilts his head slightly, peering at her openly. “Whatever my counterparts in the South might call themselves, I am hardly a Lord.”

    Rune chooses that moment to let loose an indignant screee. Reave, briefly distracted, turns his attention to the eagle for a long moment before returning his attention to Cheri with a grin. “Rune is much more insistent about certain things than I am, don’t listen to him.”

    He falls silent then as he studies Cheri curiously. Though her annoyance had begun to fade, the memories still flicker through the lingering traces. Those of their mutual relations he ignores, but the rest? Well, suffice it to say, he’s intrigued. But what is far more intriguing are the ones that trace forward. The ones that, if he plays his cards right, could collide again with his own.

    The grin on his lips turns decidedly sly.

    “I’m not the only one who has been up to things though, have I?” he asks, eyeing her in a way that clearly suggests he knows just what she has been up to.

    reave



    @[Cheri]
    #5

    a bright and dangerous spark

    They both seemed to have gained and lost in the previous years. Just like the way his eyes look her over and then right through her, (an act she can hardly pass off as something else - when had Reave ever looked at her like that?) or how he seems to keep company with the birds of the sky. “Bird, in particular.” Cheri corrected herself internally, curiously drawn to the screeching raptor. Reave interprets and she smiles, a tired sort of look that weighs her down physically with the action. Shifting her legs, the dark pegasus pulled a wing close to her side and leaned up against the buff rock wall, sighing.

    “I certainly will.” His distant niece insists despite her relative’s wishes. “He already has more sense than you.” Cheri sided with the eagle, throwing it a wink.

    She would’ve said more, asked him how things were faring now that he’d decided to settle down, but when her sparkling gaze lifted Cheri caught the same intensity in Reave’s eyes as before: he appeared to be reading her. She’d seen the same expression hundreds - no, thousands of times before, reflected back at her in her father’s eyes. Times when she tried to lie about where she’d been or who she’d been getting into trouble with. Reave’s eyes were even the same color as her father’s: sharp blue. Except Reave’s had an icy undertone to them that was impossible to ignore.

    His mouth twisted with purpose, giving Cheri an imperceptible shiver.

    “Is there something you’d like to discuss in particular?” The winged mare pushed herself off the wall, sorting herself out with the waving flick of her tinsel-green tail. “No need to be sly with me, cousin.” Cheri sounded as tired as she looked, though she carefully tacked on the bit at the end.

    Asking questions that one already knew the answer to was a game she had little love for. It was a common one in their family, and Cheri despised it for the absurdity it was. Reave shouldn’t spend his time wasting his breath. For a guardian of the North, that was beneath him.

    Her ears flicked backward halfway, undecided on whether or not she should be offended. “I don’t believe in secrets among kin or close friends.”

    Outside the weather hurled itself against the stone cliffs, barely touching them beneath the crafty overhang. Gray skies and thick fog obscured the rest of the world, hiding choppy seas better seen on a ‘clear’ day in Nerine. Cheri had been more than eager to spend her time and precious energy with Reave, but if his presence here only served to foul her already soured mood, then he could expect a less-than-warm reception while they waited out the storm.
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    @[Reave]
    #6
    Rune is clearly pleased by Cheri’s acknowledgement, the feathers of his crest ruffling as he clicks his beak in response. Reave ignores him, choosing instead to let the moment slide into obscurity. However she might wish to address him, he is still the same stallion beneath it all. No matter the words they might decide to use for it, that would not change.

    As he watches her from behind the shroud of his bone mask, it becomes clearer with each passing moment that she had changed in her time in the south. He had too of course, but it seems they have found themselves pulling in two different directions as they each followed the whims of their hearts. But beneath it all, he is still the same boy who had led her into secrets and adventures.

    He tilts his head as she responds bluntly, the grin slipping from his lips. It is replaced by something far more serious. It is not a look he often wears and is made all the more dangerous for it. He doesn’t respond immediately, instead standing uncommonly still for once. For someone who is so constantly moving, there is a strangeness about the somber stillness of his form.

    “We all have secrets Cheri,” he finally replies slowly, his voice low and clear. “Even if we choose not to acknowledge them.”

    In a rush, his features seem to grow animated once more, feet shifting restlessly against the sand as the corners of his lips twitch. “But I wasn’t asking about your secrets Cheri.” His voice is brighter now, eyes gleaming with tempered humor. Perhaps she would find her mood further soured by his prying, but she could hardly say she didn’t know this side of him existed before today. After all, they had known one another their entire lives. “Only that I can’t help but notice how much of your memories seem to linger on a certain self-described prince.” His grin widens as he shifts to the side, leaving plenty of space to flee if that’s truly what she wished. “Or will you tell me I’m wrong?”

    @Cheri
    #7

    a bright and dangerous spark

    Ledger had warned Cheri to temper the emotions inside of her and practice wearing a well-placed mask. Tarian had taught her to assess a situation from every possible angle before letting your temper run wild. Oceane had schooled her in wisdom, poise, and grace.

    It took Reave only a moment to unravel it all.

    Cheri could see the laughter dissolve from his eyes and fall off his lips the moment it happened, and she silently hated to be the reason for it. She shouldn’t have let something so insignificant bait her into such a wild display of frustration, letting it nearly turn into aggression, but she was both physically and mentally exhausted by now. Tired of the constant belittling from her most southern neighbors, tired of questioning herself all the time - just flat out fucking tired.

    Reave was the least deserving of her anger, and his impression of seriousness humbled Cheri. She was on the verge of apologizing when his demeanor threw her for a loop again, and the hen pegasus found herself curiously quiet the more her relation danced around the subject of his inquiries. Until he said that damned name: Obscene.

    “Heavens, will no one shut up about that cursed Fae?” Cheri looked away from him and out toward the weather, watching as the burdensome rain turned sideways and thickened into hail. The icy trail of stones raining down from the sky made threatening music against Nerine’s cliffs as they shattered apart, and the Loessian turned back to look at Reave - noting how he’d moved aside for her, almost an invitation to escape.

    She considered it. That would’ve been a preferable alternative to actually talking about the stallion who never seemed too far away from her own orbit. Wasn’t it already bad enough that he was ruling the Pampas? No matter how far she flew, Cheri just couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t outrun her feelings.

    She could, however, relive them.

    Her gaze lifted defiantly, deep greens that clashed against the all-familiar blue without hesitation. They flickered with lively animation, sparkling as she roused the memories of those first few encounters with the Pampas Prince - the same ones she’d fought so hard to resist - until they swept her away, back to the time and place itself. She recalled how dark it’d been, how red his eyes had glowed underneath the eerie eclipse. How the storms had raged above them that night, as angry and violent as the emotion Obscene had unexpectedly roused inside of her. All of this for Reave, who seemed to turn her tumultuous pain into pleasure for himself on a whim.

    The memories shifted. There she was in the wildflower fields, staring back at Obscene all alone in his newly-minted home, admiring how much he seemed to have changed in such a short amount of time. She remembered how her eyes had lingered over every dark, dangerous angle. She remembered how badly she had wanted to let her lips rest upon each and every one of them, until Obscene shivered underneath her touch. Cheri recalled the haze of the pollen that evening, how it had twisted the truth out of her. She could envision the fae stallion as clearly now as he’d been then, despite the taint of the drug, and how he’d managed to draw out her poisonous feelings with prickling, inquisitive questions. Then she had turned her back on him, only to suggestively beg him closer with a coy, most unladylike simper. Was Reave seeing things from her perspective now?

    How Obscene had noticed her hesitation and confusion, tried (despite her state of mind) to get her to drink more, and when Cheri had come upon a moment of do or die she’d chosen the safest option for her - only to be met with that characteristic nonchalance Obscene could throw so well. Yes; only the afamed Pampas Prince seemed to have that uncanny ability of attaching insult to injury. He had sent her away half-blitzed, truly a gentleman. Cheri didn’t stop, though.

    She brought more memories to mind.

    The ones of him bringing Aela to Loess and treating her like a piece of utter shit. As if she were some common annoyance that he could spit on in Aela’s presence, rather than a diplomat from his sister country. The version of him mid-insult with Djuna during a moment where she, too, had been in a questionably vulnerable state seemed good enough to bring up now. She shuddered to think of how that had turned from annoyance and arrogance into slithering death, and the way he’d screamed her name …

    That was when she stopped.

    Cheri wasn’t even aware that she was panting. The sky had broken apart into peals of raucous thunder and jagged, flashing arcs of deadly lightning while the hail rained ceasely down from above. She blinked and the memories faded away, back to their place of origin where they resided like angry beasts inside her heart.

    “Is that the self-described ‘Prince’ you were thinking of, Reave?” She wanted to know.
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    @Reave
    #8

    i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high

    In truth, he would have cared little about the cosseted prince if he had not lingered in first Aela’s, and now Cheri’s memories. Aela had been toying with him. Using him for her own purposes. That had caused little stir. It is a particular skill of hers, after all, and not the first she has used it on. But Cheri seems far more genuine, and Reave is left to wonder just what it is she sees in the man to leave herself with so many raw edges she doesn’t wish to acknowledge.

    If Reave were a better stallion, he would have left them alone. Would have recognized them as something she had no wish to think about and let her stew in her own misery. But Reave is not better. Besides, even without his particular combination of abilities, it would have been easy to see how it festers inside her. He would be far more useful to her if he lanced that abscess and allowed it to drain. If he allowed her to spew all the vile things she has been sheltering close to her heart.

    And she does. Without his even having to press any further, the infection bursts. She shoves it between them like armor, as though she could beat him back with the intensity of her emotions.

    But Reave had been born into a maelstrom. Everything she hoarded these last months spill forth, setting Reave into a territory he is all too familiar with. Nearly his entire life he has been learning to temper the wildest parts of his soul - of his memories. The recklessness and the endless seeking of his youth had been a symptom of it. Even now, he still hasn’t managed to find a way to leave it behind.

    So he watches, feeling the torrent of her wild memories, the hatred tangling with the undeniable draw she feels for the foul-mouthed stallion. But haven’t they always said love and hate are two sides of the same coin. An amused grin comes to his lips at that thought.

    In either case, she would have to try a great deal harder to leave him out of sorts. Reave has spent his life swimming in the stew of emotions, both his own and others. Heaving a sigh, the bone-clad stallion watches her breathing heavily in clear distress. Almost without thought, he steps closer and presses his nose gently against the bridge of hers. When he withdraws, he grins wryly. “No,” is his simple response. Then he adds pointedly, “It’s the one you were thinking of.”

    reave



    @Cheri




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