he laid low the warriors of old; any

[Rome]

he laid low the warriors of old

The world is a bright and beautiful place through the very eyes of a newborn child. In some ways it was a blessing to be born, unknowing of the world in its mixed ways of beauty and disaster. As a child you were born with a clean slate, a past that did not hold you down or obligations to keep you in one place. However, there are circumstances that shape and rip at the child’s blank canvas, creating a masterpiece or a mere disaster. There are many opportunities for when you are merely a blank slate.
 
As for Rome, he had been one of the lucky ones. He was born with two parents that shared a relationship that was close and caring. Perhaps it was love but Rome is too young to know truly the difference of caring and love. It means all the same to him, even if it’s out of obligation or not. He was born in a kingdom that was warm, beautiful and shared a positive attitude towards the world (except for the attitude towards the wickedness of the world but he has yet to come face with the devil). His mother, Lucrezia, surely played a brought in his upbringing as she shared stories to him about the world and everything it entailed. However, she barely mentioned the family beyond her but he cannot wrap his mind just around what family is really except for Kreios, Lucrezia, Vanquish, and Tarnished. 
 
It was a small world he lived in. Rome’s mother had no intention of keeping him wrapped up and kept in the shadows of the world. She intended much more for her young little cub, so that is why she has brought him to the Playground today. Rome is nervous as hell, but there is excitement in his nutmeg eyes (that match his mother’s and generations before him). “You will love it here, Rome,” she says with a smile and peers down at her little cub. Lucrezia had not expected to give birth to a small cub-like horse. In fact, it had been quite a surprised to her but in the end it made sense to claim Kreios as the father when truly Tarnished is. Rome is certainly unaware of this. 
 
“I know mother,” he says rolling his eyes when she looks away from him. Rome has only ever seen the sandy kingdom so far in his life. Outside the world seemed dangerous but his mother assured him that it was not so bad. She intended to show him all of Beqanna just as she had experienced her adventures as a child; however, the Playground was the first place she had in mind. It was where she had met all of her childhood friends and Rome’s real and fake father, Tarnished and Kreios. It was a place she enjoyed just as well as she knew he would. 
 
Once the duo reach the edge of the Playground, Lucrezia nudges at his rump, shoving him a little forward for encouragement. “Go along, I promise I will be back.” Rome gives her a soft boyish grin, “Alright, mom. See you later!” He then turns towards the Playground and takes a couple of steps nervously. Rome turns his head to look back at his mother who is still grinning. He laughs and then turns his gaze back to the land opened wide before him. And then he charges off at a full trot, as much as small, long legs could manage.
 
Rome lets out a small yelp, it is a mix between a playful growl and whicker. He has forgotten what it was like to be nervous. Now Rome is full of excitement as he runs across the grass. When he comes across a log, he leaps over it. Rome found no difficulty in his speed, he had been given birthed with enhanced agility and paws (including claws) that made it easy to grab a hold of the earth. In fact, Rome was the very first kind of his in Beqanna. He was an ocelot horse, standing at a small stature (which he would never grow pass 15hh), with paws, and a tail. He had a gold champagne coat, just like his mothers, but there was heavy panagre and spots on his coat. Rome did not truly care what he was, different he might be, but truly he had no idea of the difference. He was simply a child, open-minded to the world and ready to explore and learn everything.

ROME

tarnished x lucrezia

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[Falk]

Mother lets him go once she has warned him to be careful.
She knows he is strong. And terribly courageous. She watches him stretch out his little wings and beat them hard against the wind, strong where it comes whooshing off the surface of the sea. She watches him go and he glances over his shoulder (at her and at the place where water washes over the rocks and onto the strange, still feet of that iron figure), ducking and diving a bit as he does. He welps and twists his wings to right himself. “Focus.”

Falk is his mother’s, through and through.

He’s never thought to ask about his dad – maybe one day. 
And maybe, unlike most, mother will speak amicably about him. About his big, curved back horns, the way he had moved on her, unlike any other and unseen until he was close – they had made something special, the two of them.
He only needs mum. She is big and tough; mother can make things whiz through the air and come to him when he wants them. It’s quite funny.

Maybe because of the way she dotes on him, Falk has become bold – spoiled, in some small measure, because of her indulgence and the quiet life he has stumbled through, thus far. 
(—he comes from something violent. A small eruption somewhere in the wilder places of Beqanna, where his mother met his father, an aroused, hot particle racing through space. Collision – and from that, him.)
He flies confidently and smoothly, if he focuses. Luckily, they can’t seem to get him when he is in the air (those devilish imps that set tripwires and snares for him, causing him to look ever so clumsy). Below, the spires of mountains and pines poke up at him and remembers what his mother told him. Just past those things there will be a clearing and it will feel kind. When he sees it, he will know, she said. And mother never lies.

He pushes back with his wings, stalling in the air for a second and then angling down. He descends in a small, controlled spiral. Soft grass sways closer and closer to his, long outstretching legs. He imagines it tickling his belly and he envisions a clean landing (though always vigilant, the colt squints around – they are sneaky).

But Falk is never so lucky.

He hits something much harder. A glancing blow that knocks his legs out from under and spills him unceremoniously onto the ground. He grunts and rolls, green and dust brown swirling around him in a blur, until he comes to a stop on his bottom. He blinks, his head tilting and dizzy. “I s-should have known!” he squeaks, scrambling to his legs and stumbling as few steps. 

“You... you fiends!” He shakes his pale mane and stops a small, cloven hoof.

FALK
Pollock x Syntyche

[Rome]

he laid low the warriors of old

Rome is rather enjoying himself right now despite being alone. His mother told him that there would be others here but he hasn’t seen anyone yet. Maybe everyone is playing a game of hide and seek, he thinks to himself. The idea of a game like hide and seek has always thrilled the young cub. Rome seemed to always be better at it than his mother, except lately he was beginning to think his mother was always letting him win at the games they played. He didn’t like that very much. There was no challenge in it if he always won. Rome didn’t want things to be easy for him, but right now he doesn’t really care.

He is running as fast as he can, searching high and low for anyone or something. Rome wants to play with the other foals. He wants to make friends. Most of all, the young cub wants to go on an adventure. He wants to be the leader and show everyone all the things he knows about Beqanna. However, he knows mother would not like that if he randomly took all the foals always from the Playground and toured across Beqanna on a so called “adventure”. Rome could see it now, his mother furious in every way possible at him. Thankfully, the faeries here surely wouldn’t allow that to happen if Rome somehow convinced everyone to follow him.

While the young boy is off running through the Playground, his ears hear the swooshing of wings. He thinks it might be mother, so he quickly turns around to see if it might be here. It was too early to already go home, so Rome is ready to fight and complain for him to stay here a little longer. Suddenly, he is knocked over by something (a tangle of hooves and paws) and rolls over several times before coming to a stop on his back. Rome grunts softly as he tries to gather himself. He is feeling particularly dizzy from whatever mess that had been. He blinks a couple of times.

Rome jumps at the sound of the voice that squeaks. He quickly scrambles onto all four paws, nutmeg eyes finding the source of another foal. “Fiend?” Rome asks curiously. “What’s a fiend?” Rome then peers at the small cloven hoof the other colt stomps onto the earth floor. His eyes then fixate to the horns and then the boy’s wings. “Cool horns.” He comments with a flick of his cat tail. “Except I think you need some practice if you’re going to fly.” Rome smiles slyly with amusement at the colt.

ROME

tarnished x lucrezia

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@[Berber]