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		<title><![CDATA[Beqanna - Plain]]></title>
		<link>https://beqanna.com/forum/</link>
		<description><![CDATA[Beqanna - https://beqanna.com/forum]]></description>
		<pubDate>Sun, 26 Apr 2026 05:58:16 +0000</pubDate>
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		<item>
			<title><![CDATA[the witch is in [any]]]></title>
			<link>https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14272</link>
			<pubDate>Sat, 08 Apr 2017 09:24:46 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator><![CDATA[<a href="https://beqanna.com/forum/member.php?action=profile&uid=50">Sunday</a>]]></dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14272</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[[style].sundaypic2{background-image:url("http://barbellsandbeakers.com/beqanna/witchflygif.gif");width:500px;height:500px;z-index:1;border:black solid 1px}.sundaytext2{z-index:2;width:400px;height:370px;position:relative;top:20px;overflow-y:auto;color:#ffffff;text-align:justify;font-family:times;background-color:#000000;opacity: 0.4;filter: alpha(opacity=40);padding:10px;}.sundayname2{z-index:3;position:relative;top:30px;color:#ffffff;font-size:25pt;font-family:times;letter-spacing:10px;}.sundayquote{z-index:7;position:relative:bottom:80px;color:#000000;font-family:times;font-size:8pt;}[/style]<center><div class="sundaypic2"><div class="sundaytext2">Summer comes.<br />
<br />
Spring was a freckle on the nose, warmed from the deep frost of the winter, and awoken with the birth of babies. Children, happy and bounding, reminding Beqanna yet another year has passed. Who tells their time by any other marker than by birth? Spring was birth, it was fertility rising from the dark cocoon of days passed. <br />
<br />
But Sunday was a summer child in the same way she was a fall child or a spring child or a winter child. She was one with nature, communing with the forces of the ground and the trees just as easily as with the frost and the weather. The health of the plains - a land both barren and hopeful - curled itself against her skin like a shawl and threatened to make her whole. It was the missing piece, the part that fit the whole.<br />
<br />
But she'd be nowhere else than these swaying grains, leaning into the sun - eyes closed. A witch in her natural habitat. <br />
</div><div class="sundayname2">S<i>U</i>NDAY</div><BR><br />
<div class="sundayquote"><I>never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch</i></div></div></div></center>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[[style].sundaypic2{background-image:url("http://barbellsandbeakers.com/beqanna/witchflygif.gif");width:500px;height:500px;z-index:1;border:black solid 1px}.sundaytext2{z-index:2;width:400px;height:370px;position:relative;top:20px;overflow-y:auto;color:#ffffff;text-align:justify;font-family:times;background-color:#000000;opacity: 0.4;filter: alpha(opacity=40);padding:10px;}.sundayname2{z-index:3;position:relative;top:30px;color:#ffffff;font-size:25pt;font-family:times;letter-spacing:10px;}.sundayquote{z-index:7;position:relative:bottom:80px;color:#000000;font-family:times;font-size:8pt;}[/style]<center><div class="sundaypic2"><div class="sundaytext2">Summer comes.<br />
<br />
Spring was a freckle on the nose, warmed from the deep frost of the winter, and awoken with the birth of babies. Children, happy and bounding, reminding Beqanna yet another year has passed. Who tells their time by any other marker than by birth? Spring was birth, it was fertility rising from the dark cocoon of days passed. <br />
<br />
But Sunday was a summer child in the same way she was a fall child or a spring child or a winter child. She was one with nature, communing with the forces of the ground and the trees just as easily as with the frost and the weather. The health of the plains - a land both barren and hopeful - curled itself against her skin like a shawl and threatened to make her whole. It was the missing piece, the part that fit the whole.<br />
<br />
But she'd be nowhere else than these swaying grains, leaning into the sun - eyes closed. A witch in her natural habitat. <br />
</div><div class="sundayname2">S<i>U</i>NDAY</div><BR><br />
<div class="sundayquote"><I>never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch</i></div></div></div></center>]]></content:encoded>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title><![CDATA[i'm a wreck. didn't you know?; nyxia]]></title>
			<link>https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14204</link>
			<pubDate>Wed, 05 Apr 2017 00:08:33 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator><![CDATA[<a href="https://beqanna.com/forum/member.php?action=profile&uid=1179">tannor</a>]]></dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14204</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Droid+Serif|Special+Elite" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 564px; background-color: #010101; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #0f171f; "><br><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; padding-top: 15px; line-height: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.7px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #4f5958;">Now I gotta make a decision and I don't really know which option to choose. I'm a big wreck, did you not get the news?</div><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom:15px; line-height: 10pt; letter-spacing: 2.7px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #4f5958;">Can't go to sleep unless I leave the lights on. <br>You don't know how many fuckin' demons I know. </div><div style="width: 475px; border-bottom: 1px solid #2b2920; margin-top: 5px;"></div><br><div style="padding-left: 45px; padding-right: 45px; font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; color: #ada195 ; text-align: justify; line-height:105%; letter-spacing: 1.8px; text-shadow: 2px 1px 2px #111c2a">
It's beautiful here. With the wide open plains and their golden grasses it almost reminds him of the first place he had truly called home. It's strange to him how coming here had felt almost perfect. For it was genuinely a place that was peaceful and out of the way of the rest of Beqanna. It was exactly what he had been searching, well no, waiting for. It was most definitely a place that was worth calling home, at least for now. For he couldn't guarantee his staying here for eternity. Always did the ways of life change and lead you in different directions...<Br><BR>But for now that doesn't matter. What matters is this is home. This is the place to be. To grow. To improve. It is who he needs to become that encourages this place as something most perfect. It is to his future self that sees it as a gem laying away in secret within all the rough edges. Sunday would be a perfect ruler. Her plans for this place were ideal, especially for those like him who just wanted something that was peaceful, where they didn't have to deal with politics or specific ranking systems. At least not for now. <br><br>It's the sudden caws of the birds overhead that pull him out of his rambling and repetitive thoughts. Slowly he looks up, his dark black eyes following the movements of birds wings as they drifted lazily in large circles. He wonders what it's like, to be a bird. Not a care in the world as they drift happily through the skies and bright puffy clouds. Is it possible that they try to live their lives the same way as the rest of them? And if they do, how do they still live so happy and carefree even with all the disappointment and pain? Is it possible they would one day come down and tell them to secrets to how to live at peace and happy for eternity?<br><br>Probably not. For nothing is ever that simple. If it were, they all would have figured it out a long time ago. In the bird's songs they would have heard the secrets and used them to their advantages. Then eventually a perfect life would have become boring for some or many and in response the trouble would begin, the revolutions, the mutinies, the <i>wars</i>. Because if history has taught us anything this is how it goes. Every. Single. Time. Nowhere was safe. Not forever. Which is why the slightest bit of worry sits in the back of his mind, waiting to claw it's way into the light so that it could push him back into the dark corners of the forest were it was quiet and safe from the many.<br><br>Slowly he looks down, back out across the plains, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment until the sun spots floating in his line of sight disappear. Opening his eyes he blinks once more before catching sight of her in the distance. Her bright lavender color sticks out easily amongst the plainz golden grasses. For a moment he watches her, unsure of whether or not approaching her one-on-one was something he was ready for as conversation had never been his strong suit. In a group he could hide behind the others, allowing them to speak, but when it was just him and another he was forced to be a constant participant. <br><BR>Though before he knows it he is headed towards her, almost unwillingly. It is as though his body has decided for him, ignoring his thoughts of hesitation. The golden grasses tickle the sides of his legs and his underbelly as he strolls over the open plainz and when he finally reaches her he nods quietly, his shoulders rolling in a slight shrug. <b>"Hey,"</b> it's most certainly not the best way to start, but he's trying.<br />
<br />
</div>
<center><div style="width: 475px; border-bottom: 1px solid #2b2920; margin-top: 10px;"></div><div style="font-family: 'Special Elite', cursive; font-size: 55pt; color: #551a17; letter-spacing:0px; padding-top: 55px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height:15pt; text-shadow: 2px 1px 8px #541b20;">TANNOR</div><br><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; padding-top: 1px; padding-bottom:10px; line-height: 1pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #4f5958;">demon morphing son of a bitch</div>
<div style="width: 5564px; height: 653px; background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/m9H1Cva.png'); background-repeat: no-repeat;"></div></div></center><br />
<br />
ooc: three tv shows in one large room, plus 5 dogs and 2 cats is why this post is the way it is and i'm sorry ,_, <br />
@[Berber]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<center><link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Droid+Serif|Special+Elite" rel="stylesheet"><div style="width: 564px; background-color: #010101; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #0f171f; "><br><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; padding-top: 15px; line-height: 10pt; letter-spacing: 1.7px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #4f5958;">Now I gotta make a decision and I don't really know which option to choose. I'm a big wreck, did you not get the news?</div><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom:15px; line-height: 10pt; letter-spacing: 2.7px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #4f5958;">Can't go to sleep unless I leave the lights on. <br>You don't know how many fuckin' demons I know. </div><div style="width: 475px; border-bottom: 1px solid #2b2920; margin-top: 5px;"></div><br><div style="padding-left: 45px; padding-right: 45px; font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; color: #ada195 ; text-align: justify; line-height:105%; letter-spacing: 1.8px; text-shadow: 2px 1px 2px #111c2a">
It's beautiful here. With the wide open plains and their golden grasses it almost reminds him of the first place he had truly called home. It's strange to him how coming here had felt almost perfect. For it was genuinely a place that was peaceful and out of the way of the rest of Beqanna. It was exactly what he had been searching, well no, waiting for. It was most definitely a place that was worth calling home, at least for now. For he couldn't guarantee his staying here for eternity. Always did the ways of life change and lead you in different directions...<Br><BR>But for now that doesn't matter. What matters is this is home. This is the place to be. To grow. To improve. It is who he needs to become that encourages this place as something most perfect. It is to his future self that sees it as a gem laying away in secret within all the rough edges. Sunday would be a perfect ruler. Her plans for this place were ideal, especially for those like him who just wanted something that was peaceful, where they didn't have to deal with politics or specific ranking systems. At least not for now. <br><br>It's the sudden caws of the birds overhead that pull him out of his rambling and repetitive thoughts. Slowly he looks up, his dark black eyes following the movements of birds wings as they drifted lazily in large circles. He wonders what it's like, to be a bird. Not a care in the world as they drift happily through the skies and bright puffy clouds. Is it possible that they try to live their lives the same way as the rest of them? And if they do, how do they still live so happy and carefree even with all the disappointment and pain? Is it possible they would one day come down and tell them to secrets to how to live at peace and happy for eternity?<br><br>Probably not. For nothing is ever that simple. If it were, they all would have figured it out a long time ago. In the bird's songs they would have heard the secrets and used them to their advantages. Then eventually a perfect life would have become boring for some or many and in response the trouble would begin, the revolutions, the mutinies, the <i>wars</i>. Because if history has taught us anything this is how it goes. Every. Single. Time. Nowhere was safe. Not forever. Which is why the slightest bit of worry sits in the back of his mind, waiting to claw it's way into the light so that it could push him back into the dark corners of the forest were it was quiet and safe from the many.<br><br>Slowly he looks down, back out across the plains, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment until the sun spots floating in his line of sight disappear. Opening his eyes he blinks once more before catching sight of her in the distance. Her bright lavender color sticks out easily amongst the plainz golden grasses. For a moment he watches her, unsure of whether or not approaching her one-on-one was something he was ready for as conversation had never been his strong suit. In a group he could hide behind the others, allowing them to speak, but when it was just him and another he was forced to be a constant participant. <br><BR>Though before he knows it he is headed towards her, almost unwillingly. It is as though his body has decided for him, ignoring his thoughts of hesitation. The golden grasses tickle the sides of his legs and his underbelly as he strolls over the open plainz and when he finally reaches her he nods quietly, his shoulders rolling in a slight shrug. <b>"Hey,"</b> it's most certainly not the best way to start, but he's trying.<br />
<br />
</div>
<center><div style="width: 475px; border-bottom: 1px solid #2b2920; margin-top: 10px;"></div><div style="font-family: 'Special Elite', cursive; font-size: 55pt; color: #551a17; letter-spacing:0px; padding-top: 55px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height:15pt; text-shadow: 2px 1px 8px #541b20;">TANNOR</div><br><div style="font-family: 'Droid Serif', serif; color: #5a5a59; font-size: 8pt; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; padding-top: 1px; padding-bottom:10px; line-height: 1pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px #4f5958;">demon morphing son of a bitch</div>
<div style="width: 5564px; height: 653px; background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/m9H1Cva.png'); background-repeat: no-repeat;"></div></div></center><br />
<br />
ooc: three tv shows in one large room, plus 5 dogs and 2 cats is why this post is the way it is and i'm sorry ,_, <br />
@[Berber]]]></content:encoded>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title><![CDATA[the witch is in [any]]]></title>
			<link>https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14110</link>
			<pubDate>Fri, 31 Mar 2017 18:59:35 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator><![CDATA[<a href="https://beqanna.com/forum/member.php?action=profile&uid=50">Sunday</a>]]></dc:creator>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">https://beqanna.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=14110</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[[style].sundaypic2{background-image:url("http://barbellsandbeakers.com/beqanna/witchflygif.gif");width:500px;height:500px;z-index:1;border:black solid 1px}.sundaytext2{z-index:2;width:400px;height:370px;position:relative;top:20px;overflow-y:auto;color:#ffffff;text-align:justify;font-family:times;background-color:#000000;opacity: 0.4;filter: alpha(opacity=40);padding:10px;}.sundayname2{z-index:3;position:relative;top:30px;color:#ffffff;font-size:25pt;font-family:times;letter-spacing:10px;}.sundayquote{z-index:7;position:relative:bottom:80px;color:#000000;font-family:times;font-size:8pt;}[/style]<center><div class="sundaypic2"><div class="sundaytext2">As quickly as she woke Sunday fell asleep again.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it wasn't time for her to wake, truly. It was easy to think Beqanna's tumult woke her too soon, the way the earth shifted and she lost her magick and awoke covered in vines and creepers in an entirely new home. And it was easy to think she should have joined the Sisterhood as they grew new roots in Nerine and made it their own.<br />
<br />
These were all easy to think, but hard to comprehend, because she didn't feel it.<br />
It? It. <br />
The love. The compassion. The need to serve.<br />
She would often drift to the side and let the flow and ebb of currents take over and let her drift. She astral projected (thanks to the horse that granted her abilities again), she mentally explored, until a great barrier hit her.<br />
Bam! The mist!<br />
<br />
But after some time the mist parted and her hooves had a mind of their own. They traced the edges of the land until they found heat, swaying plains. Beauty unlike anything she'd seen before. <br />
So she makes it her own, and calls upon it to claim her as well.<br />
</div><div class="sundayname2">S<i>U</i>NDAY</div><BR><br />
<div class="sundayquote"><I>never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch</i></div></div></div></center><br />
<br />
OOC - my plan is to make this place like the anti-Pangea, where it's for everyone to come live in peace and harmony. New leader voted on every BQ year, hosting herds and anyone who wants peace. No real formal structure]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[[style].sundaypic2{background-image:url("http://barbellsandbeakers.com/beqanna/witchflygif.gif");width:500px;height:500px;z-index:1;border:black solid 1px}.sundaytext2{z-index:2;width:400px;height:370px;position:relative;top:20px;overflow-y:auto;color:#ffffff;text-align:justify;font-family:times;background-color:#000000;opacity: 0.4;filter: alpha(opacity=40);padding:10px;}.sundayname2{z-index:3;position:relative;top:30px;color:#ffffff;font-size:25pt;font-family:times;letter-spacing:10px;}.sundayquote{z-index:7;position:relative:bottom:80px;color:#000000;font-family:times;font-size:8pt;}[/style]<center><div class="sundaypic2"><div class="sundaytext2">As quickly as she woke Sunday fell asleep again.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it wasn't time for her to wake, truly. It was easy to think Beqanna's tumult woke her too soon, the way the earth shifted and she lost her magick and awoke covered in vines and creepers in an entirely new home. And it was easy to think she should have joined the Sisterhood as they grew new roots in Nerine and made it their own.<br />
<br />
These were all easy to think, but hard to comprehend, because she didn't feel it.<br />
It? It. <br />
The love. The compassion. The need to serve.<br />
She would often drift to the side and let the flow and ebb of currents take over and let her drift. She astral projected (thanks to the horse that granted her abilities again), she mentally explored, until a great barrier hit her.<br />
Bam! The mist!<br />
<br />
But after some time the mist parted and her hooves had a mind of their own. They traced the edges of the land until they found heat, swaying plains. Beauty unlike anything she'd seen before. <br />
So she makes it her own, and calls upon it to claim her as well.<br />
</div><div class="sundayname2">S<i>U</i>NDAY</div><BR><br />
<div class="sundayquote"><I>never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch</i></div></div></div></center><br />
<br />
OOC - my plan is to make this place like the anti-Pangea, where it's for everyone to come live in peace and harmony. New leader voted on every BQ year, hosting herds and anyone who wants peace. No real formal structure]]></content:encoded>
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