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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [open]  I will never be your hothouse flower - any
    #9

    Delicate things are pretty - cute, even,
    but you are not delicate.
    You are wild and lewd and unpredictable.
    You are breathtaking.
    You are beautiful.

    It certainly would be nice if I could read people as though they were books. See the shape and color of their thoughts and feelings. Much much easier too, I suspect. Alas, I am not so lucky. I have an extra eye, but it lends me only sight. An unusual sight, to be sure, but certainly nothing supernatural. No, the reading of people is far more practice than gift. It is easy enough to see what is inside people if one knows what to look for.

    Still, I always run the possibility of being wrong.

    But this girl, she seems rather nervous about what I might see in her. I suppose it is rather vain of me to let her continue believing I am more than I am. But a girl has to have some mystery, doesn’t she? And, I mean, it does feel rather nice to have someone caring about my opinion, caring about more than just my physical appearance. I am more than just my extra eye, after all.

    For a moment, I feel a bit chagrined as she steps forward, uttering that single word. Curious… and silently I think “Is it?” But I don’t say anything, and she is continuing, asking me about what I see. Or, well, she seems to think its feelings, which makes sense. I had been a bit vague. But then, I’d really had no choice. I can’t actually see much in truth, and other than what impressions I had been left with, I had little else to go on. Of course, everything I had said is true, but it is more of a vague sense of feeling rather than anything I truly saw.

    Oh dear, what have I gotten myself into? I seem to have a rather bad habit of doing that.

    “Hmm, no, not really,” I respond thoughtfully, my amber gaze going a bit distant. “It’s more just a feeling. You know, like, that’s kinda what you feel like. Like a wayward tongue of flame, a bit wild and ephemeral and unpredictable.” I pause before sighing, my unusual gaze focusing upon her once more. “I’m not really sure how else to describe it.”

    Giohde

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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: I will never be your hothouse flower - any - by Giohde - 06-29-2017, 10:04 PM



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