• Logout
  • 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


    New journeys [herds, lokii]
    #1
    I run away from my past. My old home. My dessicrated kingdom. The falls have hated me. The gates are gone. My mother abandoned me. And I have to lie. I begin to gravy lazily. My tail relaxed, my head pounding. Why was life like this? I rais my head to the sound of hoof beats headed my way.
    Reply
    #2

    this isn't mischief

        He hasn’t ever truly had a home. Perhaps the only thing close would be the Valley (with its sloping hills and comforting shadows and tall, reaching trees); after all, it’s the place he lived the longest. He’s never run away, either. He’s chased those who’ve run away, plenty of times (tricks brimming, sandstorms swirling, lips laughing). But he’s never run away from someplace because they didn’t accept him. Quite frankly, he’s never given a thought whether someone accepted him or didn’t; he simply was who he was.

        Although, when he spots the mare grazing peacefully among the tall grass of summer, his tricks itch to explore her eyes. They start slowly, before she can see (creeping along within her nerves, tangling against the lines of her nerves, settling in the recesses of her brain and taking up residence), like an unknown parasite to her mind. His dark little fingers of trickery morph his image (adding bulk and perfect muscles to his otherwise sinewy build, hiding the sharpness of his cheekbones behind a smooth and handsome plane, coloring his bruised eyes a dark and warm coffee shade, giving his overall look something desired by mares and pleasing to the eye) in her eyes, hiding away the true look of trickery that accents his normal features.

        When the infestation is complete, he steps within hearing distance. Her head raises and he takes note of her features, placing them next to his true image (already comparing the compatibility of their genes and what sort of offspring they might produce). When he speaks, his voice is a deep rumble of reassurance, tinged with the sound of far-away waterfalls (a faux voice, but she wouldn’t know the difference, considering most everything about him at this point is fake, fake, fake). “Greetings, miss. I’m Kii. It’s a fine summer day, isn’t it?”

    lokii

    this is mayhem

    Reply
    #3
    His voice rings over and over in my head. Kii. Kii. Kii. "Yes, a wonderful day." I say, turning so the light breeze blows my mane and tail just right. I still smell do the roses and lavender that made my bed. I tilt my head down, so as to get my forelock in my eyes. "My name as Dya. (That's her new nickname) It was a pleasure to meet you. Are you looking for someone?" I say, hinting twords my wish to follow this prince charming to the ends of the earth.
    Reply
    #4

    this isn't mischief

        He loves it (the thrill of knowing she sees someone different, the way her head drops to cover her eyes, the way her voice comes out hinting at something suggestive) and it sends a tangled web of excitement down his spine. He notices the way she twists her body to envelope the wind (and the faint scent of lavender and rose that follows it). The warm, summer breeze that sweeps over them calms any sort of sweat or heat that might’ve built up against his skin. It leaves behind a pleasurable feeling and he sighs softly in content.

        She introduces herself and he nods in faux greeting (although he could honestly care less what her name is or whether she thought the day was pleasant). The mask of the knight in shining armor grows heavy on his face, but he forces it to stay. The illusion of a smooth, gentlemanly smile dances across his face (something that is very real to her, but played up with tricks in order to keep it realistic for him).

        Her hinting doesn’t escape him (he’s actually rather good at picking out the hidden meanings, especially after years of dealing with magic and politics and those hiding secret purposes in their simple-sounding words). “Perhaps a pretty miss looking for a comfortable home… I think I might have found one.” His fake deep voice races toward her ears, sounding as a rumble rather than the natural tenor of his tunes. “I live in Echo Trails, Miss Dya. Are you looking for a home?” He smiles again (it stretches stiffly across his face) and waits patiently for her answer.

    lokii

    this is mayhem

    Reply
    #5
    I see he picked up the hint I dropped. "Yes, I am." I say, accepting his answer.
    Reply
    #6
    (OOC: That post by Chezter is actually by Nadyah, it just posted as him for whatever reason
    )
    Reply




    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)