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    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]  dark clouds will follow -- any
    #1

    Darkness falls in Pangea and out of habit, Skandar rises. Shadows weave in and out, cloaking his body in their caressing fingers, reminding him of the eclipse and all that he had done beneath it as he ran with the monsters. He allows himself to be pulled by the darkness, blurring the edges of his body into wisps of shadow, the once brilliant orange and violet of his skin dimming into a deep shade of indigo. His skin even flutters quietly to mute the stars and galaxies that placate his skin naturally, hiding them so that he may become the very shadow he had grown to love.

    The skinwalker moves further from the canyons and into the sweeping grasses of the meadow. He is nothing at this point - mere darkness and intangible - and he floats like the shadow of a dense cloud over the moon. He is indiscernible until layers of shadow begin to collect, shaping its likeness to that of an equine. As he becomes more substantial, there is the sound of flesh fluttering together like paper-thin leaves, one layer on top of the other until shadow becomes true skin.

    Starlight bathes the meadow in twinkling silver, though it is lost on the sparkling constellations that erupt across the deep orange, violet, and blue of his natural skin. There are a few more moments of movement across his galaxy-strewn body (his skin settling, following the command to be made solid) and then there is silence - save for the few crickets that are still awake and the gentle flap of leathery wings of stray bats flying haphazardly overhead.

    There is a solemnity in the meadow as well in Skandar’s posture, every now and then a twitch of his skin giving away the fact that he is truly alive beneath the moonlight.

    skandar

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    #2



    Avelina wanders with her young daughter as night falls, and the world feels perfect. Summer nights are her favourite - when the flock of fireflies that surround her are at their strongest, when she can see the blinking lights of their friends and family off in the long meadow grass. Cinona chases some, laughing a bright loud laugh that no longer makes her mother flinch for the volume - just makes her smile in her own quiet way.

    As the night ages, she leaves her daughter nestled by one of the trees and does not worry about her - not in this particular darkness, not on this sweet summer night. But sleep is not close yet for the charcoal mare, her soft green eyes are alert for company instead. Someone to fill up the quiet now that the source of laughter is dreaming away next to an oak.

    Not much has changed about her, except the freckling of glowing stars adorning her face and neck. Remnants of when the sun returned, when it had shone so brightly it left little presents on so much of the population.

    She’s busy watching the dancing of her fireflies that she does not notice him at first. Eventually, she realizes that someone is nearby and turns her head to greet them with a sweet smile, but as soon as her eyes recognize the sparkling constellations on his skin that smile falls away. Her steps cease and she is rooted there, staring at Skandar. Who she first thought was a dream and a friend - who had given her the scars she still has hidden amongst her mane on the slope of her neck. It had been alarming to see him at the mountain when they all heard the call to help end the eclipse about a year ago and now…

    Her fireflies begin an agitated dance but her voice comes out, not with an insult or the harsh words she probably should but with a gentle greeting. “Hi, Skandar.” She doesn’t really know why she greets him, why she doesn’t just keep on walking. Avelina supposes it's just a little too impolite to ignore him, now that she's stopped before him and clearly noticed who it is. And she cannot make herself move until she's gone through with the niceties.



    @[Skandar]
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    #3

    As if some dark beings (perhaps the monsters he once had taken a likeness to) heard his silence, he is gifted with the presence of another. Already Skandar can feel their hesitant hoof steps with a single ear flicking towards the sound of their movement, unsure. They were drawn to the kaleidoscope of his skin, as was most often the case, and the way he is able to warp and twist himself into anything beyond their wildest dreams - or, more commonly, that of nightmares.

    However, when he turns his head towards her with some kind of slowness that is not particular to him, he is genuinely surprised by the stranger that greets him. Surprised only by the fact that it is not a stranger at all. Before the darkness, Skandar perhaps would have returned her softly spoken greeting with a dastardly grin - spitting venom immediately at her absolute foolishness to come near him once again, in the middle of the night in a barren, silent field.

    He keeps these thoughts to himself, however, and the glimmer of shock that found his eyes quickly passes, pursing his lips curiously at the sweet, trusting Avelina.

    “Avelina,” he replies, the tiniest dip of his head accompanying the deep tones of his rough voice. His eyes immediately fell to where he had attacked her, hungry and wishing to see what kind of scars lay haphazardly across her skin from that day many years ago. When he sees nothing he is unsatisfied, shown by the way his ears tip back into the deep indigo of his mane. “How poetic that you’ve found me again,” he muses aloud, and though he smiles softly, it is grim and dark on his handsome face. He has learned much from his time with the monsters and, much to his surprise, from Aela herself.

    Skandar turns to move towards her, slow and calculating. The buzzing behind his eyes suddenly becomes noticeable to him and with a breath he quells it, despite the desperation he feels to merely blink and create beautiful and intricate patterns on the darkness of her skin. It would be beautiful, he thinks, especially in the light of her firefly glow. 

    “I want to apologize.”

    A lie, delicious and sweet on his tongue.

    skandar



    @[Avelina]
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    #4



    Even though she had been the one to greet him, Avelina’s heart begins to hammer wildly in her chest as she watches as he slowly looks at her, as she waits to see what he’ll do. She should’ve kept walking, she thinks as she sees his eyes move across her neck and she swallows against something thick that has risen in her throat.

    She should have kept walking.

    She frowns at his musing words about how it was poetic that she found him again, not understanding what he means by that at all. None of this feels poetic to her - though she had once thought the stars that decorated his skin was worthy of a dream. Skandar moves so slow that she could almost forget that there was a predator housed in that dream-like package.

    She takes a step backwards when he moves towards her, politeness forgotten, but her ears perk up at his next words. There is some apprehension in the way she regards him, but not enough. Caution is outweighed by an eagerness to forget their last meeting, to assume it was some weird fluke. That he had been having a truly awful day and the only way he had been able to vent his frustration had been to take it out on her.

    Her fireflies cease their agitated circles and return to calmer dancing and Avelina herself visibly relaxes. It takes so little for her to believe him, so little for a tentative smile to begin to replace the wariness in those soft green eyes as they take him in. “Really?” She breathes out, that single word so hopeful, already so forgiving. "You scared me last time." She tells him, though there's little to no accusation in her quiet voice - and instead almost something like concern. Practically begging him to give her an excuse that will wash it all away.



    @[Skandar]
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    #5

    Her frown (that uncertainty, that hesitation) does not deter him. The emotions of others were never anything he had concerned himself with and though it may appear that she doesn’t quite believe him, it does not stop him as his calculating mind ticks onwards, always forwards.

    The light that illuminates her in tiny, buzzing bulbs grows calmer and more controlled (bringing a smile to that handsome, star-strewn face). A decision has been made and though there is nothing spoken that solidifies this, Skandar takes the fireflies' smooth circles as an answer. “Of course,” he breathes softly into the night air - and though his throat tightens to make it sound as if he is confused, there is no evidence of the strong planes of his violet and orange face.

    The stallion pauses, his dark ears tipping back slightly as he continues his ruse of behaving apologetic and contrite. “I know I did,” Skandar repeats back to her, the memory fuzzy and without edges but still enough to cause the heart in his chest to leap - how easy it would be to do it to her again. He swallows the lump in his throat, attempting to ease the bitterness that brews in his stomach. What does she need to hear from him to step just a little bit closer?

    “I’m sick.” He mentions it casually and perhaps it is because it’s not entirely a lie that it falls so smoothly off his tongue. “Sometimes I get swept away and something - someone else takes over.”

    His burning eyes flash to the soft green of hers. Will she notice he hasn’t said sorry?

    skandar




    @[Avelina]
    Reply
    #6



    For Avelina, wanting to apologize and actually apologizing are the same thing. She doesn’t pick up on the difference, that one does not necessarily mean anything at all. It is enough that he wants to be sorry and her pale green eyes watch him with a combination of wariness and eagerness. She’s not expecting his explanation and her eyes widen a little to consider it.

    “Sick?” She repeats, her voice more concerned than cautious. “Oh Skandar that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” She steps forward, forgetting the scars on her neck - forgetting the pain and betrayal that had lanced through her heart because of him. Enough caution remains in her that she does not reach out to touch him, though she wants to. She wants to hug him and tell him that it will be okay. She can't imagine what it would be like to have someone else take over her body, to do things she would not normally do.

    How easily she accepts this explanation and no questions to test the validity of it rise up in her mind. There is only one thing she wants to know.

    For now she remains where she is - just a short step away - and asks earnestly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”



    @Skandar
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    #7

    It’s too easy.

    The fact that is too easy it nearly causes the stallion’s face to contort to that of confusion, to tilt his head and wrinkle his shadowed brow in disbelief. He somehow is able to hide it (though perhaps Avelina just wills to not notice, to look past all of the warning signs, and to create some kind of Skandar that isn’t what he truly is) and she baits him with true concern and pity. The skinwalker snorts softly, finding that her pity doesn’t sit well with him, and finds that the fire within him begins to fan a bit more, only moments before bursting into flames.

    “It is awful,” he repeats, his brilliant gaze flashing to hers. Besides Aela, Avelina is the only other he has met as of late and he cannot fathom the sheer differences between the two. It can’t be this easy, can it? Lying, causing pain, and then doing it all over again? As she steps closer, he realizes that the time to strike is growing nearer with each second and the adrenaline that began in his chest now flows through his entire body.

    She stops, though he is certain it is no hesitation that stops her. The question on her lips hangs in the air momentarily, as if suspended by the nighttime sky, and with a small frown, he closes the space between them with a single, fluid step. “There is one thing,” he begins, stretching his head to the side and reaching forward as if to bring his neck around hers in an embrace, “forgive me?” His voice dies quietly and he can hear the soft buzzing of her fireflies as they dance in a circle pattern above her head, oblivious and useless. He inhales with a shaky, nearly uncontrollable breath, wondering if she will recognize the sound of the humming that comes from beneath his eyes or the soft red glow that now accompanies them. 

    When he exhales, two beams of perfectly aimed light come from his eyes and begin to absorb into the meaty flesh of her shoulder. “Forgive me?” He repeats and this time, there is no disguising the pleasure on his face.

    skandar




    @Avelina
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    #8



    Avelina does not have the bravery that runs strongly in her family, none of the ferocity. She wants to believe that Skandar is sorry, and she is ready to forgive him before he even asks. Ready to do whatever it is that she can to help him.

    She thinks nothing of when he moves towards her, though her fireflies become agitated but she doesn’t notice. They do not land on him like they do with Isakov, don’t dance circles like they do around Cinona. They do not want her near him but of course she goes, what else can she do?

    One moment she is moving to accept what she’s sure will be an embrace - a peaceful smile on her face, so glad to be putting the past behind them. Her soft green eyes flutter closed for only the shortest of moments before pain erupts in her shoulder and she begins to scream before they are even fully open. She sees the beams of light coming from Skandar’s eyes, hears his cruel words and the pleasure on his face as he says them as she scrambles away from him.

    She clamps her mouth closed, cutting off the sounds, but pain beyond anything she’s experienced is not so easily shut off and she begins to cry. The sobs are choked by her stubborn refusal to open her mouth, an instinct born out of shock. Like if she stays quiet, he won't hurt her again.

    Avelina may not be brave, but there are instincts in her blood and just like the last time he had hurt her she becomes a black panther - her teeth bared but out of fear. The scars he had given her the last time they met are more visible in this form, spaces in the black fur where he had bitten her.

    She can’t even form that one syllable question this time - why - because that question doesn’t matter. Not the second time. He had done this because he wanted to.

    And this sweet charcoal mare cannot even compute such a mind. It stalls out her rational mind and the twin wounds are burning on her shoulder as she hisses at him - unable to even get out any words at all as she begins to back up. Thinking now only of getting to her family, to Isakov and to the kind world she’s created free of Skandar.



    @Skandar
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    #9
    As she stands before him - shocked, in pain, hurt - they are as stark as night and day. Skandar only knows two options: those who are powerful and those who are not. As the charcoal mare (delicate still, even with the smell of burning flesh, and perhaps even hopeful despite the sorrow of betrayal that haunts her once bright eyes) attempts to fathom the why, Skandar is far beyond the question. There is no reason, truly, save for the fact that she is weak and frail while he is anything but. There is a balance, one that nature has created (gods versus mere mortals) and he is here to ensure it stays that way - to show her that she is the weaker of the two, born to serve and die under his heel, nothing more than an indicator that gods certainly do exist.

    And that he was one of them.

    They are not friends - they cannot be; for how can a powerful being like himself find solace in such a sorry, sad soul? There is no likeness between them, she cannot understand him any more than he can understand her naive trust. She is nothing compared to him, nothing compared to her, and serves no purpose in her presence. His purpose, however, has been clearly stated - she is beneath him and he above her. Perhaps there is not even a need for him to smile the way he does (should he take pleasure in the way the world is created, in how he was born into greatness and she into mere ordinary circumstances?), but he is young and it is thrilling, despite its natural order.

    She staggers away from him, confusion still in the stark jade of her eyes. How does she not understand? She is but a blip among others, easily forgotten and lost. He, however, is far from such a description. “You’re a foolish girl,” he murmurs, almost sympathetically (for how can she help it?) though the smile on his handsome face barely fades. “Gods don’t waste their time with fools, Avelina.” Skandar pauses, thoughtful as his orange and burning eyes narrow, that red glow once again resurfacing with a terrible, high-pitched hum.

    “The second you forget that, I’ll be there to remind you.”

    skandar

    i want to be the bullet
    that brings you to your knees




    @Avelina
    Reply
    #10



    Although the pain is unbearable, although she is still crying, she feels something shift inside of her at his words. He is right about her being foolish - but everything else is wrong. A frown breaks through her expression first, her tears easing a little, confused about the conflict there. How he tells her “gods” don’t waste time with fools but also that if she forgets that, he will remind her. Which would mean spending time on her…

    This confusion eats away at her fear and pain, gives her something else to focus on. She grieves for this friendship that was never really a friendship but doesn’t feel afraid anymore. Not of him.

    She discovers that she feels sorry for Skandar instead. For this boy pretending to be something he isn’t. Can he see that change through the glow in his eyes, how sadness switches to pity? “I forgive you, Skandar.” She tells him, her voice so soft and quiet. The last words she ever intends to say to him in this life are back to the whispers she had grown up with, her gentle eyes shining right before she shifts.

    She becomes a swift and each beat of her wings is more painful than the last, her chest and lungs ache from her sobs, as she flies away. Skandar may think it's foolish, but she knows she returns to a life filled with love and this keeps her heart from falling into pieces any more than it already has. She won't forget but she will heal and that's enough.



    @Skandar
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