<![CDATA[Beqanna - Playground]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/ Sat, 25 Apr 2026 08:39:44 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[better than pretending, any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30297 Sun, 19 Sep 2021 22:05:02 +0000 divinity]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30297
Divinity
She is not the first lucky one, but she is lucky.
She is born without any idea how many have come before her and her mother does not tell her. Her mother, whose brow is kissed by the sun. Her mother, who has abandoned more children than she has ever cared for.

But her mother had been reborn once (twice, three times, so many times she has lost count) and something had changed. Not only was she reborn indestructible but there came a heart, too. Maternal instinct. It is incredible the things dying can do to you.

The first was a daughter, gold just like her mother, and maybe this softened their mother to her. And then a son who sprang forth from her ribs. She had cared for them dutifully, Bible. Not because she had learned from any of her mistakes but because it had become a natural thing.

And now a second daughter, solid gold, too. Solid gold and haloed, with light spilling from her mouth. And Bible takes her to the playground where she might find playmates. Just as any dutiful mother would. And the girl teeters into their midst, only days old. So small that she hardly disturbs the grass when she moves.

There is so much light, the sun glinting off the sharp points of her shoulders and hips. And she tilts her head and watches the mother leave her there with the promise that she, too, is indestructible. So she blinks her golden eyes and fears nothing at all when she sways toward the nearest child and says, “what’s your name?” Because this is what her mother told her to ask. And then she remembers what else her mother told her and says, “my name is Divinity.”

Everything you taught me still rattles in my head
I’m staying off main street, you’re talking to the dead
]]>
Divinity
She is not the first lucky one, but she is lucky.
She is born without any idea how many have come before her and her mother does not tell her. Her mother, whose brow is kissed by the sun. Her mother, who has abandoned more children than she has ever cared for.

But her mother had been reborn once (twice, three times, so many times she has lost count) and something had changed. Not only was she reborn indestructible but there came a heart, too. Maternal instinct. It is incredible the things dying can do to you.

The first was a daughter, gold just like her mother, and maybe this softened their mother to her. And then a son who sprang forth from her ribs. She had cared for them dutifully, Bible. Not because she had learned from any of her mistakes but because it had become a natural thing.

And now a second daughter, solid gold, too. Solid gold and haloed, with light spilling from her mouth. And Bible takes her to the playground where she might find playmates. Just as any dutiful mother would. And the girl teeters into their midst, only days old. So small that she hardly disturbs the grass when she moves.

There is so much light, the sun glinting off the sharp points of her shoulders and hips. And she tilts her head and watches the mother leave her there with the promise that she, too, is indestructible. So she blinks her golden eyes and fears nothing at all when she sways toward the nearest child and says, “what’s your name?” Because this is what her mother told her to ask. And then she remembers what else her mother told her and says, “my name is Divinity.”

Everything you taught me still rattles in my head
I’m staying off main street, you’re talking to the dead
]]> <![CDATA[a fine modern gentleman; jeje pony]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30050 Sun, 22 Aug 2021 05:26:07 +0000 Bonebone]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=30050

Bonebone came to look at the fairy, he had learned about her before his mother went to bed and when she went to sleep he trotted out of Pangea. He does not sleep. His black eyes almost never close. When he moves it is with animation, too much really, springy and slinky, and eerily perfect.

The morning is aging, the autumn mist burning off. He could have been here earlier but in the dark, he had found the most lovely distractions along his meandering route. Bonebone brakes himself in the dewy grass, leaning back on his hocks and extending his long neck in a painful-looking stretch.

It might be more poetic if he didn’t see the fairy, but he does. He stands in the midst of her playground domain and stares at her, still and unblinking, for an uncomfortable amount of time. So long that she finally gets weary of it (and this is a feat, as the fairy guardian of a playground where the most precocious future terrorists of Beqanna have played for generations, her patience is divine) and disappears. Bonebone flags his black tail and springs to the place where she had stood, there is nothing special remaining, not even hoofprints. She is really gone though, defeated perhaps. “I suppose I am the fairy now. My mother will be so proud.”




i don't mind if you fuck up my life
Bonebone


]]>

Bonebone came to look at the fairy, he had learned about her before his mother went to bed and when she went to sleep he trotted out of Pangea. He does not sleep. His black eyes almost never close. When he moves it is with animation, too much really, springy and slinky, and eerily perfect.

The morning is aging, the autumn mist burning off. He could have been here earlier but in the dark, he had found the most lovely distractions along his meandering route. Bonebone brakes himself in the dewy grass, leaning back on his hocks and extending his long neck in a painful-looking stretch.

It might be more poetic if he didn’t see the fairy, but he does. He stands in the midst of her playground domain and stares at her, still and unblinking, for an uncomfortable amount of time. So long that she finally gets weary of it (and this is a feat, as the fairy guardian of a playground where the most precocious future terrorists of Beqanna have played for generations, her patience is divine) and disappears. Bonebone flags his black tail and springs to the place where she had stood, there is nothing special remaining, not even hoofprints. She is really gone though, defeated perhaps. “I suppose I am the fairy now. My mother will be so proud.”




i don't mind if you fuck up my life
Bonebone


]]> <![CDATA[Your best friend use to be a stranger [Any]]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29959 Tue, 03 Aug 2021 20:27:03 +0000 Link]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29959

I love Kungfuuuuu

It had taken much coaxing, pleading, prodding, and whining to finally get his sire to drop them off at the playground. It wasn’t that he was sick of digging his little claws into the red dusted cliffs or tumbling  off low canyons into the warm shallow pools below (much to his father’s dismay and Lillibet’s delight), there was much of Loess to discover the young shifter finds. There weren’t any other foals their age though and while he loves his parents and his sister more than anything, he wouldn’t mind having someone else to play with. He’s not sure where he learned of the playground but once the idea was in his head, he was insistent of visiting for himself. Once he had shared the idea with his twin, it hadn’t taken long to wear down the one-eyed stallion after some very persistent needling from the both of them.

The young colt had taken to shifting like a duck to water and was constantly found in his black and white cub form but Ledger had patiently explained for the millionth time that it would take too long to travel in that shape and so he sighs and reluctantly dons the equine body he had been born into. On lanky gold striped limbs he prances besides his sire and sister all the way to the Playground. The trip alone is exciting, so many new sights and sounds and smells for him to explore. He is constantly distracted and has to be reeled back in by the both of them more than once.

When they finally arrive, he dashes off without even a backwards glance at his father. Ledger sighs and begrudgingly watches them go, calling that he would be back in an hour. Paranoid and overprotective as always, the flaxen stallion has no intention of going too far but finally leaves after the diligent fairy in charge shoos him away, insulted by the lack of faith in her standards of care.

Link notices none of this, a grin on his bright lips and mischief dancing in the gold flecks of his warm brown eyes. He wastes no time in shifting and summersaults down a hill until he lands on his small fuzzy head and stays there, looking up at whoever he managed to roll into. “Hi!” He nearly shouts, enthusiastic as always. “I’m Link! That’s my sister Lillibet! We’ve never been here before! Do you want to be friends?” The words tumble out of him in a bark of excitement as he rolls himself the right way up to better look at them.

Link

Photo by nicolasdc20 @ Unsplash




@ Any]]>

I love Kungfuuuuu

It had taken much coaxing, pleading, prodding, and whining to finally get his sire to drop them off at the playground. It wasn’t that he was sick of digging his little claws into the red dusted cliffs or tumbling  off low canyons into the warm shallow pools below (much to his father’s dismay and Lillibet’s delight), there was much of Loess to discover the young shifter finds. There weren’t any other foals their age though and while he loves his parents and his sister more than anything, he wouldn’t mind having someone else to play with. He’s not sure where he learned of the playground but once the idea was in his head, he was insistent of visiting for himself. Once he had shared the idea with his twin, it hadn’t taken long to wear down the one-eyed stallion after some very persistent needling from the both of them.

The young colt had taken to shifting like a duck to water and was constantly found in his black and white cub form but Ledger had patiently explained for the millionth time that it would take too long to travel in that shape and so he sighs and reluctantly dons the equine body he had been born into. On lanky gold striped limbs he prances besides his sire and sister all the way to the Playground. The trip alone is exciting, so many new sights and sounds and smells for him to explore. He is constantly distracted and has to be reeled back in by the both of them more than once.

When they finally arrive, he dashes off without even a backwards glance at his father. Ledger sighs and begrudgingly watches them go, calling that he would be back in an hour. Paranoid and overprotective as always, the flaxen stallion has no intention of going too far but finally leaves after the diligent fairy in charge shoos him away, insulted by the lack of faith in her standards of care.

Link notices none of this, a grin on his bright lips and mischief dancing in the gold flecks of his warm brown eyes. He wastes no time in shifting and summersaults down a hill until he lands on his small fuzzy head and stays there, looking up at whoever he managed to roll into. “Hi!” He nearly shouts, enthusiastic as always. “I’m Link! That’s my sister Lillibet! We’ve never been here before! Do you want to be friends?” The words tumble out of him in a bark of excitement as he rolls himself the right way up to better look at them.

Link

Photo by nicolasdc20 @ Unsplash




@ Any]]> <![CDATA[never let me go]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29616 Mon, 31 May 2021 19:05:19 +0000 crania]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29616
The first thing her mother said was this: the world is waiting.
So the first promise the tree-daughter ever made was this: she would not keep it waiting long.

It had taken only days for her to understand what it meant to want to swallow the world whole. (Was she wrong to think that the world could belong to her, though? Children are fools, certainly, but was it so outlandish to think that she could not take a piece from every part of it and make it her own? Perhaps the nymphs are the greatest fools of us all.)

And it had taken only weeks for her to strike out on her own. (Almost certainly bolstered by her mother’s magic because a journey to the Playground from Tephra is too great a journey for a child of only a few weeks.) But she goes and she does not stop to consider consequences. She goes and she does not tire. She goes and she thinks this is what it means to swallow the world whole. 

She arrives at the Playground and she thinks herself a faerie, light-hearted and gleaming in the sunlight. Such rapturous laughter as she dips her nose to kiss each flower, faces upturned. (Too young to know that it is her they turn their faces up to, not the sun. She is their sun, this stark white child in the middle of all this green. She does not yet know that she is magic.)

i cannot frown underneath
fractured moonlight on the sea
crania
]]>
The first thing her mother said was this: the world is waiting.
So the first promise the tree-daughter ever made was this: she would not keep it waiting long.

It had taken only days for her to understand what it meant to want to swallow the world whole. (Was she wrong to think that the world could belong to her, though? Children are fools, certainly, but was it so outlandish to think that she could not take a piece from every part of it and make it her own? Perhaps the nymphs are the greatest fools of us all.)

And it had taken only weeks for her to strike out on her own. (Almost certainly bolstered by her mother’s magic because a journey to the Playground from Tephra is too great a journey for a child of only a few weeks.) But she goes and she does not stop to consider consequences. She goes and she does not tire. She goes and she thinks this is what it means to swallow the world whole. 

She arrives at the Playground and she thinks herself a faerie, light-hearted and gleaming in the sunlight. Such rapturous laughter as she dips her nose to kiss each flower, faces upturned. (Too young to know that it is her they turn their faces up to, not the sun. She is their sun, this stark white child in the middle of all this green. She does not yet know that she is magic.)

i cannot frown underneath
fractured moonlight on the sea
crania
]]> <![CDATA[they can't see you if you don't move]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29204 Fri, 16 Apr 2021 23:23:41 +0000 Maurtia]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=29204
MAURTIA
The sun’s arrival had been a interesting development, but Maurtia decided she liked it because it brought a little more freedom. The world seems to be settling and though she’s vaguely aware of the agitation her parents are radiating it is quickly forgotten as she leaves Pangea. She’s promised to only come here - to the Playground - and keeping this promise is easy for two reasons. 1) she’s aware that one of or both of her parents could easily check in on her at any time and 2) it’s exciting enough just seeing somewhere new that she’s not very fussed about how it’s a place for babies.

The shadow wolf pup she was gifted from her father curls around her legs as she stands just inside the border. She’s gotten this far and it’s still early in the morning, there’s still plenty of day left, but… well Maurtia’s just not quite sure what she’s supposed to do next. Her white eyes glow softly as they peer around and she cannot seem to see a single other foal. She should have bothered her sisters to come with her, at least then she’d have company.

She doesn’t notice the way she stands with near-supernatural stillness, her tail already long enough to brush the tips of the grass by her hooves. No mane adorns her neck and her pearlescent skin shimmers slightly in the sunlight. If not for the breathing, she could be a statue.

She’s doing it on purpose, thinking that maybe if she stands still long enough something interesting will happen and she can join in. Almost as if there’s already an instinct somewhere deep inside her that tells her she might accidentally scare off new friends from just her presence.


open to anyone!]]>
MAURTIA
The sun’s arrival had been a interesting development, but Maurtia decided she liked it because it brought a little more freedom. The world seems to be settling and though she’s vaguely aware of the agitation her parents are radiating it is quickly forgotten as she leaves Pangea. She’s promised to only come here - to the Playground - and keeping this promise is easy for two reasons. 1) she’s aware that one of or both of her parents could easily check in on her at any time and 2) it’s exciting enough just seeing somewhere new that she’s not very fussed about how it’s a place for babies.

The shadow wolf pup she was gifted from her father curls around her legs as she stands just inside the border. She’s gotten this far and it’s still early in the morning, there’s still plenty of day left, but… well Maurtia’s just not quite sure what she’s supposed to do next. Her white eyes glow softly as they peer around and she cannot seem to see a single other foal. She should have bothered her sisters to come with her, at least then she’d have company.

She doesn’t notice the way she stands with near-supernatural stillness, her tail already long enough to brush the tips of the grass by her hooves. No mane adorns her neck and her pearlescent skin shimmers slightly in the sunlight. If not for the breathing, she could be a statue.

She’s doing it on purpose, thinking that maybe if she stands still long enough something interesting will happen and she can join in. Almost as if there’s already an instinct somewhere deep inside her that tells her she might accidentally scare off new friends from just her presence.


open to anyone!]]> <![CDATA[where the spirit meets the bones]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28992 Fri, 05 Mar 2021 21:18:49 +0000 Sellene]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28992
s e l l e n e










She thinks this is the place where foals are meant to go, but she can’t be certain. Everything looks the same in the dark. But the dark is all she’s known in her short life, so she has no issue with it.  She’s never known the blinding light of the sun or the searing heat of day.  She’s only ever known the cool brush of darkness and the quiet of the night.  That’s all any of the children in the playground have known – all of them more adapted to live in this dark world then perhaps their parents had been. All of them ignorant of the world before. There was no fear to keep her paralyzed or loss to weigh on her soul. The girl bounded over creeks and stumbled over branches as would any other child, her heart unburdened.
 
It had been her mother who had encouraged her to come here. She had said there would be others. That she would find friends here.  Mother had seemed adamant about her coming here, and Sellene thought it was perhaps because mother didn’t have any friends. Had she not come here when she was a child to make them?  Mother never spoke about her childhood, and made a special effort to avoid talking about it. So Sellene hadn’t pressed – more content to simply do Mother’s bidding and be on her way.
 
But she was disappointed to find the Playground empty when she arrived.  The girl frowned, turning her mismatched gaze upon her hooves.  Idly, she gently kicked at a stone with one of her forelegs in an attempt to distract herself from just how disappointed she was to find this place so desolate.  But inside she burned with the desire to find a friend. 
 
And when she raised her gaze once again – something before her flickered. A strange, ghost-like shape but one that was decidedly equine.  One that she had summoned here as if by sheer will.  At the sight of it a wide smile blossomed on her baby face and she all but forgot her pursuit of others.  She reached out her nose oh-so-carefully to brush her nose against the soft light of the apparition  but felt only cold.  But she was undeterred. 
 
Mother had said to find friends.
Surely creating them had to count?



@[The Monsters] mess with her immortality?]]>
s e l l e n e










She thinks this is the place where foals are meant to go, but she can’t be certain. Everything looks the same in the dark. But the dark is all she’s known in her short life, so she has no issue with it.  She’s never known the blinding light of the sun or the searing heat of day.  She’s only ever known the cool brush of darkness and the quiet of the night.  That’s all any of the children in the playground have known – all of them more adapted to live in this dark world then perhaps their parents had been. All of them ignorant of the world before. There was no fear to keep her paralyzed or loss to weigh on her soul. The girl bounded over creeks and stumbled over branches as would any other child, her heart unburdened.
 
It had been her mother who had encouraged her to come here. She had said there would be others. That she would find friends here.  Mother had seemed adamant about her coming here, and Sellene thought it was perhaps because mother didn’t have any friends. Had she not come here when she was a child to make them?  Mother never spoke about her childhood, and made a special effort to avoid talking about it. So Sellene hadn’t pressed – more content to simply do Mother’s bidding and be on her way.
 
But she was disappointed to find the Playground empty when she arrived.  The girl frowned, turning her mismatched gaze upon her hooves.  Idly, she gently kicked at a stone with one of her forelegs in an attempt to distract herself from just how disappointed she was to find this place so desolate.  But inside she burned with the desire to find a friend. 
 
And when she raised her gaze once again – something before her flickered. A strange, ghost-like shape but one that was decidedly equine.  One that she had summoned here as if by sheer will.  At the sight of it a wide smile blossomed on her baby face and she all but forgot her pursuit of others.  She reached out her nose oh-so-carefully to brush her nose against the soft light of the apparition  but felt only cold.  But she was undeterred. 
 
Mother had said to find friends.
Surely creating them had to count?



@[The Monsters] mess with her immortality?]]> <![CDATA[I kid you not // Any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28668 Thu, 07 Jan 2021 02:15:45 +0000 Reynard]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28668
One quick kiss goodbye later, he was really ready to start his day. Cheri was supposed to be here, and he was sure he'd find her eventually, but the boy wasn't in much of a hurry. Not when there were strangers here, faces and stories he didn't know. Not yet, anyway. 

The energy that had carried him so quickly from his mother's side faded as he realized the downside to not knowing anyone. Squealing voices carried on the air, other children in their pairs and trios already knowing what games to play and who was It. It was overwhelming. It didn't help that it was kind of hard to tell the difference between the voices happening now and the ones from Before. 

Ghosts of games past lingered in the land. Ripples of excitement saturated the place, along with subtle hints of loneliness and jealousy. Some were older than others, and most were so layered he couldn't tell them apart. It was hurting his head to try. Or maybe that was his horns pushing against his skull. That was hard to tell too. 

Eyes screwed up in concentration, he took a moment to work on his breathing. "Meditation", dad called it, or "finding your center", like mom said. Either way, he needed a few breaths to settle his spinning mind, and alleviate the chaos that young people feel. He didn't want to stand here and sort it out all day. That wouldn't be an adventure. That would be homework. 

Head swimming slightly, the caprine colt switched his focus to the other children, looking for someonethat didn't seem too overwhelming to talk to. When a likely looking figure appeared, he made his way over with a cheesy grin on his face. "Hiya!" He chirped, tail waggling eagerly behind him. "I'm Reynard, who're you?" Greeting, introduction, expectation. Yup, that should do it. He didn't think he'd forgotten anything important about meeting someone new.]]>
One quick kiss goodbye later, he was really ready to start his day. Cheri was supposed to be here, and he was sure he'd find her eventually, but the boy wasn't in much of a hurry. Not when there were strangers here, faces and stories he didn't know. Not yet, anyway. 

The energy that had carried him so quickly from his mother's side faded as he realized the downside to not knowing anyone. Squealing voices carried on the air, other children in their pairs and trios already knowing what games to play and who was It. It was overwhelming. It didn't help that it was kind of hard to tell the difference between the voices happening now and the ones from Before. 

Ghosts of games past lingered in the land. Ripples of excitement saturated the place, along with subtle hints of loneliness and jealousy. Some were older than others, and most were so layered he couldn't tell them apart. It was hurting his head to try. Or maybe that was his horns pushing against his skull. That was hard to tell too. 

Eyes screwed up in concentration, he took a moment to work on his breathing. "Meditation", dad called it, or "finding your center", like mom said. Either way, he needed a few breaths to settle his spinning mind, and alleviate the chaos that young people feel. He didn't want to stand here and sort it out all day. That wouldn't be an adventure. That would be homework. 

Head swimming slightly, the caprine colt switched his focus to the other children, looking for someonethat didn't seem too overwhelming to talk to. When a likely looking figure appeared, he made his way over with a cheesy grin on his face. "Hiya!" He chirped, tail waggling eagerly behind him. "I'm Reynard, who're you?" Greeting, introduction, expectation. Yup, that should do it. He didn't think he'd forgotten anything important about meeting someone new.]]> <![CDATA[precious butterfly, spread your wings and fly]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28649 Mon, 04 Jan 2021 15:34:47 +0000 lycaenidae]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28649
For her, life is nothing but rainbows and butterflies. Butterflies surround her and press gentle kisses to her butterfly spots and rainbows kiss her skin, blessing her with an iridescent sheen. She may be odd, with her happiness and her head constantly in the clouds, but surrounding herself with a cloud of rainbow wings is what brings the child the most joy one could ever imagine. When they land on her face and press butterfly kisses to her skin, it is as though any troubles she could possibly have just… melt away.

However, the darkness and the cold do not agree with her butterflies, and she has to work overtime to draw the more uncommon species to share the warmth at the base of her wings. Most of the species she finds are Polygonias or Nymphalis butterflies, and she cannot find any of the butterflies that she draws her namesake from. They are a summertime butterfly, she tells herself, and when the warmth comes again so shall they.

When she arrives in the playground it is cold and dreary, and she shivers as she treks through the snow. It is not as deep here as it is in other places in Beqanna, and she thinks that she has the fairies to thank for that. Even in winter, a child needs friends, more so now than ever. With most of her friends gone for the winter - dead most likely, though she doesn’t know it - Lyca finds herself incredibly lonely. Though the butterflies cannot speak to her, they still fill her with joy just to be around them.

A since mourning cloak hangs from the underside of her face as she bounds through the snow, and a few species of commas follow her as she goes, having been disturbed from the warmth of her back when she made the dive into the playground. They follow because she bids them to, the same way that the cloak clings to her chin. These few are her only friends at the moment, and it would do her no good to lose them.]]>
For her, life is nothing but rainbows and butterflies. Butterflies surround her and press gentle kisses to her butterfly spots and rainbows kiss her skin, blessing her with an iridescent sheen. She may be odd, with her happiness and her head constantly in the clouds, but surrounding herself with a cloud of rainbow wings is what brings the child the most joy one could ever imagine. When they land on her face and press butterfly kisses to her skin, it is as though any troubles she could possibly have just… melt away.

However, the darkness and the cold do not agree with her butterflies, and she has to work overtime to draw the more uncommon species to share the warmth at the base of her wings. Most of the species she finds are Polygonias or Nymphalis butterflies, and she cannot find any of the butterflies that she draws her namesake from. They are a summertime butterfly, she tells herself, and when the warmth comes again so shall they.

When she arrives in the playground it is cold and dreary, and she shivers as she treks through the snow. It is not as deep here as it is in other places in Beqanna, and she thinks that she has the fairies to thank for that. Even in winter, a child needs friends, more so now than ever. With most of her friends gone for the winter - dead most likely, though she doesn’t know it - Lyca finds herself incredibly lonely. Though the butterflies cannot speak to her, they still fill her with joy just to be around them.

A since mourning cloak hangs from the underside of her face as she bounds through the snow, and a few species of commas follow her as she goes, having been disturbed from the warmth of her back when she made the dive into the playground. They follow because she bids them to, the same way that the cloak clings to her chin. These few are her only friends at the moment, and it would do her no good to lose them.]]> <![CDATA[All We Have is Our Temperament | Any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28469 Wed, 16 Dec 2020 08:54:38 +0000 Empyrea]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28469
Empyrea
Bathory, at her core, was a cruel woman. Her intentions were centered only around self and vanity, she carried only the grace of her shallow mind. Even with her young age, Empyrea knew her mother would not change, no matter how much she tried to sing sense to the golden mare's ears. She had viewed her as competition, despite being her own flesh and blood, her mother viewed her only as something in her way. In truth, Empyrea knew this was solely because of appearance. Bathory hated that her own daughter could be born more beautiful than herself in her eyes, she cast the rainbow kissed filly to the side, and had given her no love. The only kindness the blood stained narcissist had shown her was a side to sleep next to, and milk to drink, just as she had done for Padmarashka. 

Though saddened, the filly did not allow her mother's self-centered actions to dishearten her from her own goals. Golden eyes gazed upwards towards the Sun, and silently thanked it for the warmth it gave her. She let the rays embrace her, the warmth sinking into her flesh and soothing her worries. Inspired, Empyrea focused for a moment to create her own small orb of light; and, though it only lasted a few seconds, it was brilliant in its short lifespan. It twinkled for a few seconds in front of her, and soon faded, gone before it could be appreciated by any eyes besides her own. She was still young, and still had much to learn about creating light and maintaining it for more than a few seconds at a time, and each attempt tired her still.

Gracefuly and almost without weight, her feet carried her to the shelter of a tree's shade, offering cool grass below which welcomed her as she laid down. Here in the shade, her rainbow sheen was not as strong, not completely gone, but not so obvious as it had been within the sunlight. The shade humbled her in a way she wished her mother could appreciate, it took away the very thing that her mother wished she could grasp for herself. White and gold curls cascaded around her and pooled in the grass, brushing against her spotted coat delicately. A heavy and satisfied sigh escaped her as she allowed herself to relax, taking in the scenery around her, the leaves showing signs of browning in the crisp Autumn air. 
all I am is meant to bleed and bloom
]]>
Empyrea
Bathory, at her core, was a cruel woman. Her intentions were centered only around self and vanity, she carried only the grace of her shallow mind. Even with her young age, Empyrea knew her mother would not change, no matter how much she tried to sing sense to the golden mare's ears. She had viewed her as competition, despite being her own flesh and blood, her mother viewed her only as something in her way. In truth, Empyrea knew this was solely because of appearance. Bathory hated that her own daughter could be born more beautiful than herself in her eyes, she cast the rainbow kissed filly to the side, and had given her no love. The only kindness the blood stained narcissist had shown her was a side to sleep next to, and milk to drink, just as she had done for Padmarashka. 

Though saddened, the filly did not allow her mother's self-centered actions to dishearten her from her own goals. Golden eyes gazed upwards towards the Sun, and silently thanked it for the warmth it gave her. She let the rays embrace her, the warmth sinking into her flesh and soothing her worries. Inspired, Empyrea focused for a moment to create her own small orb of light; and, though it only lasted a few seconds, it was brilliant in its short lifespan. It twinkled for a few seconds in front of her, and soon faded, gone before it could be appreciated by any eyes besides her own. She was still young, and still had much to learn about creating light and maintaining it for more than a few seconds at a time, and each attempt tired her still.

Gracefuly and almost without weight, her feet carried her to the shelter of a tree's shade, offering cool grass below which welcomed her as she laid down. Here in the shade, her rainbow sheen was not as strong, not completely gone, but not so obvious as it had been within the sunlight. The shade humbled her in a way she wished her mother could appreciate, it took away the very thing that her mother wished she could grasp for herself. White and gold curls cascaded around her and pooled in the grass, brushing against her spotted coat delicately. A heavy and satisfied sigh escaped her as she allowed herself to relax, taking in the scenery around her, the leaves showing signs of browning in the crisp Autumn air. 
all I am is meant to bleed and bloom
]]> <![CDATA[this ain't no place for no hero; any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28412 Sat, 05 Dec 2020 03:28:38 +0000 Volos]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=28412 .volos_container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 600px;background: #5481c4;font: 12px 'Times new roman', serif;line-height: 1.5;border: 1px solid #000;box-shadow: 0 0 10px #000;}.volos_container p {margin: 0;padding: 0;}.volos_message {text-align: justify;padding: 25px 24px;color: #000;}.volos_name {font-size: 28px;color: #000;}.volos_quote {position: relative;z-index: 10;top: -10px;font-style: italic;color: #000;letter-spacing: 6px;}
There is so much to explore, and already the sun is halfway through its arcing across the sky.

Titanya – she didn’t want to be called mother – had left him for the first time to adventure on his own in the playground.  She said she would be close and would collect him as the sun sank close to the tops of the trees.  She told him he better be ready and waiting to go home by the big oak tree at the agreed time or else. 

Volos has no idea what or else means.  What will happen if he isn’t at the designated spot when he’s supposed to be?  Will a three-headed bear come and gobble him up?  Are there many-toothed sharks flying in the sky that will chomp him to bits like the ones that swim in the waters around Ischia?  Or will the ground simply open up and swallow him whole?  He knows it can happen – a filly with wide eyes and a trembling lip told him in passing as she was being escorted home by her mother. 

He’s decided he doesn’t care much what will happen if he’s late.  He puffs his chest out and lets the sharp teeth that must live inside his head grow long and pointy.  Let the beasts try to eat him up.  He’ll make them think twice about messing with someone as ferocious as him.  Volos even lets out a very tiger-like growl and struts haughtily into the playground further.  He is not going to be denied his first taste of freedom.  There are friends to meet and fun to be had.

“Hey,” he says, coming behind the first other kid he sees.  “Want to be my friend?”  The grullo colt realizes after he’s asked that he is still holding his defensive posture and relaxes immediately.  A smile as bright as the summer sun above them lightens his features.  “I’ll protect you if – “  his eyes dart about them looking for an invisible threat and his voice lowers, “anything happens.”

V O L O S

. . . . .

]]> .volos_container {position: relative;z-index: 1;width: 600px;background: #5481c4;font: 12px 'Times new roman', serif;line-height: 1.5;border: 1px solid #000;box-shadow: 0 0 10px #000;}.volos_container p {margin: 0;padding: 0;}.volos_message {text-align: justify;padding: 25px 24px;color: #000;}.volos_name {font-size: 28px;color: #000;}.volos_quote {position: relative;z-index: 10;top: -10px;font-style: italic;color: #000;letter-spacing: 6px;}
There is so much to explore, and already the sun is halfway through its arcing across the sky.

Titanya – she didn’t want to be called mother – had left him for the first time to adventure on his own in the playground.  She said she would be close and would collect him as the sun sank close to the tops of the trees.  She told him he better be ready and waiting to go home by the big oak tree at the agreed time or else. 

Volos has no idea what or else means.  What will happen if he isn’t at the designated spot when he’s supposed to be?  Will a three-headed bear come and gobble him up?  Are there many-toothed sharks flying in the sky that will chomp him to bits like the ones that swim in the waters around Ischia?  Or will the ground simply open up and swallow him whole?  He knows it can happen – a filly with wide eyes and a trembling lip told him in passing as she was being escorted home by her mother. 

He’s decided he doesn’t care much what will happen if he’s late.  He puffs his chest out and lets the sharp teeth that must live inside his head grow long and pointy.  Let the beasts try to eat him up.  He’ll make them think twice about messing with someone as ferocious as him.  Volos even lets out a very tiger-like growl and struts haughtily into the playground further.  He is not going to be denied his first taste of freedom.  There are friends to meet and fun to be had.

“Hey,” he says, coming behind the first other kid he sees.  “Want to be my friend?”  The grullo colt realizes after he’s asked that he is still holding his defensive posture and relaxes immediately.  A smile as bright as the summer sun above them lightens his features.  “I’ll protect you if – “  his eyes dart about them looking for an invisible threat and his voice lowers, “anything happens.”

V O L O S

. . . . .

]]> <![CDATA[take me to where the devil won't go]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27775 Thu, 10 Sep 2020 22:55:50 +0000 Derelict]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27775

It’s raining by the time Derelict arrives at the playground - a misty rain that turns the whole world into shades of grey. It causes the flames crowning her head from her horns to sizzle and she laughs the first time she realizes where the noise is coming from, shaking her head back and forth to hear it a little more.

But then she worries that her flames might go out and she tries her best to shield herself with her bone wings until she can scramble under the boughs of a tree. Once there, the dark filly shakes herself, bones rattling against her armoured sides as she does - another sound that makes her smile. Sometimes she wishes she was soft like Ozzy but it doesn’t seem awful, the idea of being like their mother. Her armour has been hardening but it is still pliable, still a little soft so it can stretch and grow with her.

She’s not thinking about that, though.

She’s thinking about the rain and how it’s interfering with her plans - and she hisses at it from her shelter as if that will somehow cause it to dissipate and leave her alone.



@[ratty] @[Vanilla Custard] and any!]]>

It’s raining by the time Derelict arrives at the playground - a misty rain that turns the whole world into shades of grey. It causes the flames crowning her head from her horns to sizzle and she laughs the first time she realizes where the noise is coming from, shaking her head back and forth to hear it a little more.

But then she worries that her flames might go out and she tries her best to shield herself with her bone wings until she can scramble under the boughs of a tree. Once there, the dark filly shakes herself, bones rattling against her armoured sides as she does - another sound that makes her smile. Sometimes she wishes she was soft like Ozzy but it doesn’t seem awful, the idea of being like their mother. Her armour has been hardening but it is still pliable, still a little soft so it can stretch and grow with her.

She’s not thinking about that, though.

She’s thinking about the rain and how it’s interfering with her plans - and she hisses at it from her shelter as if that will somehow cause it to dissipate and leave her alone.



@[ratty] @[Vanilla Custard] and any!]]> <![CDATA[the voices of the dead]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27710 Wed, 02 Sep 2020 19:51:18 +0000 Iris]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27710

stars, hide your fire;
let not light see my black and deep desires

Life. It is a beautiful and strange thing, particularly for a new child who can speak to the dead. Given her mother’s magic, Straia had simply known what the voices were. There wasn’t a period where her mother thought little Iris might be crazy. No, instead, without fuss, Straia had told the little black filly that she could hear the voices of those who had died. It is a wonderful gift, dear Iris. You have eyes and ears everywhere, her mother had said, the importance of which was still somewhat lost on the tiny child. Though she did grasp at the edges of it, that taste of something useful lingering on her tongue.

Mostly though, the voices were her friends. Not that she was without friends, for she has Rosebay, though Rosebay does not speak to the dead. Still, Iris can share their whispers, and together they can play within the tales spun by the dead. Or use their secrets to their advantage.

It is a beautiful, crisp day when Iris wakes, ready to explore more than just life with Rosebay and their mother. Though she wouldn’t mind if Rosebay wanted to explore with her, for they were always better together than apart. So she finds her sister and invites her along, but regardless of Rosebay’s choice, Iris makes her way to the place known as the playground. She could seek the common lands, but other children seem like a good target to practice on before she seeks the company of adults.

The day is warming slightly when she arrives at the playground, and it is quiet still, but Iris is always content to wait in the quiet. After all, it is never quiet for her, particularly since she hasn’t quite figured out how to shut the voices off yet. She can focus on one or another, can dim them, but they are always there, wiggling in the back of her mind. As she waits, nibbling on grass, she listens to what they have to tell her this morning, to their legends and their stories.

iris



@[laura] if you want to and @[Ciel] character]]>

stars, hide your fire;
let not light see my black and deep desires

Life. It is a beautiful and strange thing, particularly for a new child who can speak to the dead. Given her mother’s magic, Straia had simply known what the voices were. There wasn’t a period where her mother thought little Iris might be crazy. No, instead, without fuss, Straia had told the little black filly that she could hear the voices of those who had died. It is a wonderful gift, dear Iris. You have eyes and ears everywhere, her mother had said, the importance of which was still somewhat lost on the tiny child. Though she did grasp at the edges of it, that taste of something useful lingering on her tongue.

Mostly though, the voices were her friends. Not that she was without friends, for she has Rosebay, though Rosebay does not speak to the dead. Still, Iris can share their whispers, and together they can play within the tales spun by the dead. Or use their secrets to their advantage.

It is a beautiful, crisp day when Iris wakes, ready to explore more than just life with Rosebay and their mother. Though she wouldn’t mind if Rosebay wanted to explore with her, for they were always better together than apart. So she finds her sister and invites her along, but regardless of Rosebay’s choice, Iris makes her way to the place known as the playground. She could seek the common lands, but other children seem like a good target to practice on before she seeks the company of adults.

The day is warming slightly when she arrives at the playground, and it is quiet still, but Iris is always content to wait in the quiet. After all, it is never quiet for her, particularly since she hasn’t quite figured out how to shut the voices off yet. She can focus on one or another, can dim them, but they are always there, wiggling in the back of her mind. As she waits, nibbling on grass, she listens to what they have to tell her this morning, to their legends and their stories.

iris



@[laura] if you want to and @[Ciel] character]]> <![CDATA[if i only knew what i know, any]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27572 Tue, 18 Aug 2020 22:36:18 +0000 lumineer]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27572
heard your voice leading me on
through the darkness to the dawn

There is something odd about the wolf pup that loiters in the shadows.
It is not a behavior or even a color (although, if you looked close, you would see a wink of gold buried in all that fur). It is the bright blue flowers at the base of the pup’s tail, spun in a ring around one ear, how it appears to be smiling even from a distance.

The behavior is not odd, necessarily. Wolf pups are wont to sprint and roll and leap. But this wolf pup laughs to itself as it goes. And, when it gets tired, it collapses in a heap in the center of the playground and sucks in great, gasping breaths, each one punctuated by laughter.

It’s not that the colt prefers to be a wolf pup, it’s just that it makes the sprinting and rolling and leaping easier. So he lies there in the grass, panting. He rolls onto his back and stares up at that bright blue sky. He grins secretly to himself and curls onto his side. It all happens so fast, as if the wolf pup cannot possibly keep still.

And perhaps he cannot. Because there are so many things to explore. How far he can stretch the legs, how it feels to dig his spine into the cool dirt, how sharp the teeth are.

When he shifts back into that graying colt, he does so with a heart buoyed by the fact that he can visit the wolf pup any time he wants. He is giddy with the knowledge that the wolf pup lives inside him.

And he tests out these coltish limbs, too. He sprints and leaps, but the rolling is harder and he cannot lie on his back and look up at the sky like this. Unless he lays the wings out flat to steady himself. But this quickly tires him out and he promptly rolls back to his side before heaving himself to his feet, beating his little tail against his haunches with vigor.

He stomps his little hooves, dancing in place, waiting for a friend.

L  U  M  I  N  E  E  R
]]>
heard your voice leading me on
through the darkness to the dawn

There is something odd about the wolf pup that loiters in the shadows.
It is not a behavior or even a color (although, if you looked close, you would see a wink of gold buried in all that fur). It is the bright blue flowers at the base of the pup’s tail, spun in a ring around one ear, how it appears to be smiling even from a distance.

The behavior is not odd, necessarily. Wolf pups are wont to sprint and roll and leap. But this wolf pup laughs to itself as it goes. And, when it gets tired, it collapses in a heap in the center of the playground and sucks in great, gasping breaths, each one punctuated by laughter.

It’s not that the colt prefers to be a wolf pup, it’s just that it makes the sprinting and rolling and leaping easier. So he lies there in the grass, panting. He rolls onto his back and stares up at that bright blue sky. He grins secretly to himself and curls onto his side. It all happens so fast, as if the wolf pup cannot possibly keep still.

And perhaps he cannot. Because there are so many things to explore. How far he can stretch the legs, how it feels to dig his spine into the cool dirt, how sharp the teeth are.

When he shifts back into that graying colt, he does so with a heart buoyed by the fact that he can visit the wolf pup any time he wants. He is giddy with the knowledge that the wolf pup lives inside him.

And he tests out these coltish limbs, too. He sprints and leaps, but the rolling is harder and he cannot lie on his back and look up at the sky like this. Unless he lays the wings out flat to steady himself. But this quickly tires him out and he promptly rolls back to his side before heaving himself to his feet, beating his little tail against his haunches with vigor.

He stomps his little hooves, dancing in place, waiting for a friend.

L  U  M  I  N  E  E  R
]]> <![CDATA[when we were young and free]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27462 Mon, 03 Aug 2020 17:08:01 +0000 Avelina]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27462

Although she had a built-in best friend with Cru, Avelina was excited for her first trip to the playground. She had suggested it (gently) - already more in tune with her mom’s sadness than she probably should be. Maybe if Agetta had an afternoon to herself, she’d feel a little better.

None of it made any sense to the young black filly, of course, but surely it couldn’t hurt. And then when they were reunited later, they would be sure to have lots of stories that would make the white mare smile! And that’s all Avelina wanted to see.

Now, though, this filly wasn’t smiling at all.

Not finding anyone immediately upon arrival, she and her brother had elected to play a game where they would take turns hiding. Only, Cru - even with his bright white coat - seemed to be a lot better at the ‘hiding’ part than she was. She had been wandering around for a while, trying to puzzle out where he had gone. It felt like cheating to call out his name so she settled for wandering through a thicket of trees and whispering it to each trunk - as if he might be around any of them.

avelina


for Narya]]>

Although she had a built-in best friend with Cru, Avelina was excited for her first trip to the playground. She had suggested it (gently) - already more in tune with her mom’s sadness than she probably should be. Maybe if Agetta had an afternoon to herself, she’d feel a little better.

None of it made any sense to the young black filly, of course, but surely it couldn’t hurt. And then when they were reunited later, they would be sure to have lots of stories that would make the white mare smile! And that’s all Avelina wanted to see.

Now, though, this filly wasn’t smiling at all.

Not finding anyone immediately upon arrival, she and her brother had elected to play a game where they would take turns hiding. Only, Cru - even with his bright white coat - seemed to be a lot better at the ‘hiding’ part than she was. She had been wandering around for a while, trying to puzzle out where he had gone. It felt like cheating to call out his name so she settled for wandering through a thicket of trees and whispering it to each trunk - as if he might be around any of them.

avelina


for Narya]]> <![CDATA[the sun, the sea, the sky]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27452 Mon, 20 Jul 2020 20:30:21 +0000 Laurelin]]> https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=27452

Laurelin does not know that through a fluke of genetics he has missed out on magical powers, or that through a fluke of fate his carnivorous father is trapped and cannot seek him out to kill him for not being kelpie enough.

All he knows is that he is a little nervous to be going to the playground for the first time. He’s not too sure what to expect of other foals... or anyone aside from his mom.

Will they think he’s pretty? The clouds have rolled in, gigantic fluffy white things that obscure the afternoon sun. Laurelin likes to think the gold of his markings shines a little brighter in the sunlight, ignoring how his fuzzy foal coat obscures the markings so they don’t really shine anyway.

His arrival into this land is cautious and not full of the bravado he wished he felt. When no one immediately comes to greet him within the first heartbeat of his arrival, the caution gives way to a faint annoyance and he sets off at a trot - his bright eyes alert for anyone around he could dazzle. He was probably dazzling, right? It just didn’t feel like he could be anything less.

image from unsplash


@[chasmata]]]>

Laurelin does not know that through a fluke of genetics he has missed out on magical powers, or that through a fluke of fate his carnivorous father is trapped and cannot seek him out to kill him for not being kelpie enough.

All he knows is that he is a little nervous to be going to the playground for the first time. He’s not too sure what to expect of other foals... or anyone aside from his mom.

Will they think he’s pretty? The clouds have rolled in, gigantic fluffy white things that obscure the afternoon sun. Laurelin likes to think the gold of his markings shines a little brighter in the sunlight, ignoring how his fuzzy foal coat obscures the markings so they don’t really shine anyway.

His arrival into this land is cautious and not full of the bravado he wished he felt. When no one immediately comes to greet him within the first heartbeat of his arrival, the caution gives way to a faint annoyance and he sets off at a trot - his bright eyes alert for anyone around he could dazzle. He was probably dazzling, right? It just didn’t feel like he could be anything less.

image from unsplash


@[chasmata]]]>