Beqanna - Stratos

The moon

Sun, 26 Oct 2025 19:27:15 +0000

A bright orange moon hangs over Stratos, illuminating the wisps of clouds in fiery shades. The starlight feels muted tonight, giving this moon a chance to burn brightly with no distractions. Shadows seem longer too, especially up here in Stratos where they rarely appear at all. The edges of cloud that are not alight are deeply shaded and strangely shaped. Even for the Stratosians who would have called this place home, there is something different about how the moonlight is behaving here tonight.

As though there are secrets to be discovered in the shadows.

Happy Spooky Season!
- this drop is open to the first two characters to reply (only one per player)
- gifts will be randomized but autumn-themed
- if you miss out, don't worry! There will be one more drop on Halloween
- if there is still an open spot, players that had entered into the previous drops may do so again on Thurs Oct 30

this is a kindness you can't afford; Demi

Sat, 30 Mar 2024 20:09:00 +0000

i was thinking timeline wise this is post-helping with the quest? just needed it to be nighttime for the Moon!

Ruhr watches Demi for a while after he's sure sure she's fallen asleep, his navy eyes as deep as the sky hardly visible between the branches overhead. Though he’s now seen her transform several times, and into a myriad of shapes, he still finds it remarkable. Such a gift, he thinks, his eyes tracing the speckled pattern along her pale sides and rump. What does the Moon have in store for her, he wonders, and what does She expect of him?

He will find no answers here, the stallion knows.

Perhaps he can find them in the water.

Slipping from beneath the spring-thick boughs, Ruhr leaves the sleeping Demi. He seeks out a shallow stream they’d passed not long before settling down for the evening, and with a few adjustments of the silty soil of the bank, he soon has a still pool into which to peer.

Time passes, but he does not pay it any mind. It might have been a few minutes or several hours; Ruhr cannot predict how long it will take. He can only wait and pray that She favors him.

Tonight, she does.

It begins as a ripple at the edges of the pool, spreading out like smoke until a silver sheen overtakes the entirety of the pool.

Green, so much green. The birds are bright and in the distance, a blue sea crashes on a black sand shore. Before the mountain is Demi, in her equine form. Beside her, Ruhr recognizes himself.

The vision vanishes, leaving only a shallow pool of muddy water.

Her meaning is the opposite, as clear as the quick flowing stream from which he now takes a long drink. That had surely been Tephra, he thinks, the land that Demi had described to the purple spotted stallion. They’d been there together, he and Demi, and so they will be.

Is that his purpose, then? To help in the restoration of the kingdom, or to accompany Demi there? His time with Her chosen has always been brief, just long enough for him to aid them in some way. Though he has no doubt that it is to Demi that She had led him, Ruhr has not yet divined his purpose. He’d settled for guard as a default, knowing a chipped blade to be better than none at all.

This vision had offered him no guidance in that respect, but it has at least given him a location, and reaffirmed Her choice of the red-headed mare. Ruhr returns to her now, through the darkness with wary dark eyes. His limp is impossible to hide, but he moves steadily despite it, returning to the edge of the clearing where they’d stopped for the night as the dawn begins to break.

we thought a cure would come in time

Thu, 01 Jun 2023 04:12:16 +0000

It had not occurred to Beyza to explore the lands that came through from other worlds - not while she was busy tending to Ischia and hiding herself away from the world. As if she had any reason to hide, as if her life would be best spent in the shadows.

She must be made for more than that - must believe there is more in store for her.

As she reawakens to life, her curiosity sparks and she turns her white gaze to Stratos. Broad white wings carry her upwards on a warm spring afternoon. She spends some time enjoying the feeling of flight - letting herself be caught by winds and updrafts, mimicking the flight of eagles and ravens as she tilts her wings this way and that.

There’s a looseness in her heart when she lands on the clouds of Stratos - a wildness that causes her heart to beat in strong pulses, reminding her she still lives and experiences. After spending so long in stasis, this feels like a victory - however small of one it might be.

Up here, the soft glow that she radiates is impossible to notice because everything else burns even brighter under the pale gold sun. She does not get rid of the wings yet, instead folding them to her sides as she looks around. Whether or not she runs into someone else, she’s determined to explore as much as she can. Her head lowers and grazes the wispy clouds, sending some of the condensation upwards in small curls and she smiles faintly to herself. Her unblinking gaze constantly scans as she moves at a slow pace, dancing along the edges of the clouds and the shapes they make with their shadows.

beyza

artwork by kharthian

open to any!

this thing was a shot in the dark, isogold

Wed, 19 Apr 2023 01:47:56 +0000

The girl isn’t sure how she feels about the fall of her kingdom.

The land amongst the clouds has always been home to her, and though most Stratosians tend to strike out on their own at a young age, she is still close to her family. At least she had been; she hasn’t seen them since the change in the world, as Beqanna herself reclaims her land. Have they been scattered to the winds, or separated by the veil?

All she knows is that the loneliness is all-encompassing, and she misses them daily. Her elder sister had been her closest friend; her parents were her most trusted confidants. Her younger brother, barely old enough to leave their home cloud, had started to become her bravest adventuring buddy. He had encouraged her to set off on new adventures, day after day, no matter how tired she was from the previous day’s journeys.

Maybe that’s all this is.
A brand new undertaking.

It is that thought that has her circling Stratos that morning, her lavender eyes scanning the skies. Perhaps there are others like her, who have lost their entire families to whatever magicks Beqanna has brought upon them. She lands quietly on one of the larger, more residential clouds when she finally catches the eye of another, offering her a smile as she approaches. “Hi,” she says, suddenly shy as she tucks her wings in close. “What happened to everything, do you know?”

Perhaps she should recognize one of Stratos’s former council members, but Eva had never been huge on politics - even those of her own home. Her father would’ve been stammering and admonishing her, telling her to be more polite, more formal, but Father…

Father’s gone.

You’re on your own, kid.

I've never been a saint, have I?

Tue, 16 Aug 2022 14:37:31 +0000

LEILAN

hen he pops back in, there is no home. That’s a new one. No, not entirely - there had been homes before that didn’t fit, just like the Pampas doesn’t, the Jungle never had, and the Tundra… well, he hadn’t tried at the time, but the Isle had worked where nothing would. So long, then.

Perhaps that was just his fate - he’d been a wanderer before and he would be now. Yet this time he had more than just itching feet to go places; large wings would carry him where not many tried their luck. The former shifter turned magician, even though his powers dwindles a little due to a lack of ice around him, still found it easy enough to do what he had for years - dragon shifting.

This time, he is not alone in his endeavors. It had been the fox-shifter turned equine who called on him just before the storms hit, and amidst the chaos, just for the sake of former ties between them, he allowed a white arctic fox to take a ride on the ice dragon’s back. "Only once, got that?" Although he would have to allow a ride back down, he supposed.

Or maybe, just to annoy him, he’d leave him up there for a night and then carry him back in his claws. So many options.

It is a last push of wings with an immediate wooshing sound that brings them up to the right level - above the clouds, and the view is spectacular. Although the Stratosians look kind of weird, the silver-and-bronze dragon senses they’re more of a kindred spirit than the ones below sea level, just from the way their… could it be called kingdom? Living space, was operation - loosely. Baltia sure wasn’t for him, even if he wouldn’t freeze any and all water immediately surrounding him (when he didn’t pay attention anyway). He popped his head in once, but it seemed that they were so very, very organised.

Who wanted that, anyway? Still, as he purposefully beelined for the cloud that seemed most occupied and busy, he did wonder if there would be anyone here in charge at all.

I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
till touchdown brings me ‘round again

, Stratosian

art by Muson | HTML by Tangi

If you like, you can scramble the Frozen Heart trait? I’m trying not to change him up aesthetically again ^^

No one expects an angel; any

Fri, 05 Aug 2022 23:01:04 +0000

The wind can often speak more than words, and today is no different. It rumbles with fury, and a strength far greater than any storm Vilja has ever witnessed. The air is thick with magic, almost so that it stings her lungs with every breath. Yet she isn’t fearful, she is beaming with an excitement of a heavily peaked interest.

With curiosity festering in her mind, she allows herself to be drawn into the hurricane. Speckled wings unfurling from her strawberry kissed skin to embrace the storm’s intoxicating strangeness. It was a reckless act, perhaps even more foolish than she would like to admit but something within her told her otherwise.

She is pulled into the very thicket of the storm, ravenous winds lashing at every inch of her red toned body as sleet and rain begin to pelt her owlet wings. She knows she doesn’t have much time, her wings would soon become waterlogged and useless. Fueled by her hunger for knowledge, she allows her sky touched gaze to inspect the storm with haste. It was something of destruction, born from magic. That’s all she could gather before her brown flecked wings begin to give out. With water bearing an immense weight upon her wings, she gathers the last of her strength with one last hardy flap of her wings before they retract into her crimson dusted withers. Propelling herself onto a small patch of clouds before they are all swept away by the storm.

She is swallowed by darkness, as the ground beneath her begins to shift and rock as she's swept away. Viljas balance becomes something of that in shambles, as the cloud teeters. Her excitement fades, and is replaced with worry, tarnishing her wild delicate features. Her mind begins to race, what would happen to the others? Would they be alright? Where was Taimas and Isogold? Surely they got everyone to safety... She should of fled and warned them, rather than facing the storm head on, yet as it often happens she was drawn by her own selfish desires.

The movement beneath her suddenly ceases, as the dark clouds recede revealing the vibrant azure sky above her. The storm has been quelled, it's hunger for destruction and waste dissipated. It's quiet now, deafening almost so that the only sound that lingers is the thumping of her own heart, as worry wraps its wicked tendrils around her. Vilja's wide cobalt gaze wanders across the sky filled landscape, it was empty but perhaps they made it. They had to.

"Timais? Isogold? Anyone?" She expels through hopeful breaths of anxiety, her mind stirring with concern. Please tell me they made it.

OOC: Not my best but I'm still easing into her!

sell my soul for the high - any

Thu, 04 Aug 2022 22:56:51 +0000

Maeglin’s feathers had been ruffled for days and showed no signs of settling. He felt like an unruly pigeon, the scattered feathers along his body refusing to lay in their usual sleek manner. The worst offenders were the ones by his ears, normally blending in and hidden by his forelock but now puffed up and brushing against the hairs so that his ears were constantly twitching.

He needed to relax - he knew that. But knowing you need to relax and actually doing it are two entirely different things. Especially when some bizarre tornado takes you and your home into an entirely different world - and has the poor graces to bring your damned brother along. In fact, Maeglin had been rather hoping to leave a good number of faces behind and every time he spotted a fellow Stratosian he felt an unfortunate mix of relief and utter disappointment.

They said Stratos wasn’t safe anymore, that they’d have to trade the clouds and endless skies for hard earth and stone, but even as Maeglin heard those words he knew he wouldn’t be following that advice. Of course he was going to return to Stratos, to see what was left of his home. Perhaps, if someone caught him there, he could pretend he was on a mission to check for stragglers - a foal too stupid to fly or, ideally, a pretty face.

It was a good plan, but still his feathers didn’t settle. Even the feathers on his wings were puffed up once he landed after his flight, dispelling small wisps of darkening clouds. Like the sky around him, Maeglin was passing into twilight. The tips of his mane and tail were glowing with the same brilliant orange catching the edges of the clouds, his body a combination of deep reds and purples and just a hint of dark blue beginning to appear.

It was his favourite time of day, these in-between times - where both sunlight and starlight were adorning him and capable of being called to his will.

He gave another glance at his wings, muttering at them ‘we are relaxed’ like a mantra that had long lost it’s effectiveness, before turning his head and looking for whatever bananas reason they had been told Stratos wasn't safe.

So far, he's unimpressed.

open to any!

also you can scramble his wings