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  • Beqanna

    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


    she calls my arms a crime scene, any
    #1

    "love breaks my bones and i laugh."


    It’s a long walk to Loess from the fields and he thought about stopping halfway through, but Sylva didn’t appeal to him. He’d heard whispers of how Loess was for hire and he figured it would be worth his time to at least have a look around. The snow was up to his knees when he initially began this journey but it’s hardly more than a frost here at the base of the hills and mountains. He tries to recall whether or not he’s supposed to wait here at the border before proceeding. His gray-green eyes scan across the parts of the kingdom he can see, observing a wide array of greenery off in the distance. Vulgaris shrugs and moves forward to explore a little more.

    The sun is almost directly overhead and so he casts a short shadow as he slinks along. All the gray and black scales across his body are glimmering like a dragon’s hoard in the winter light. He wonders if Rey is around here somewhere to give him a tour of her home but he supposes anyone would do. Vulgaris usually prefers a familiar face or acquaintance over a stranger, however slight the difference may be.

    Every step is confident and calculated until he comes to one of the freshwater springs. He leans his face down to the water’s surface to observe his reflection, curious as to what he looks like these days. Vulgaris snorts lightly so his reflection blurs and ripples before him. In truth, he had hoped for something ugly and horrifying but instead, he found he wasn’t terrible to look at. In fact, he was rather handsome, with smooth angles to his face and sharp eyes that could cut right to the core of someone. What a disappointment. In his dreams, he’s always the big bad monster.

    He lifts his head and shifts his weight a little as he brushes the worry from his head. There’s still a lifetime to earn some scars and get that rugged look so he needn’t worry.

    Vulgaris.


    Messages In This Thread
    she calls my arms a crime scene, any - by vulgaris - 07-14-2018, 12:12 AM



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