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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


    Starsin;
    #1
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Everything has settled. Tephra is rebuilding, growing. Sylva is overtaken and quiet.
     
    Suddenly, the chaos that swept across Beqanna has silenced.
     
    Castile listens, waiting, to the breeze and the whispers carried on its wintry gale. The reptiles scampering across the sundried ground hiss but still carry no word of anything. The world is stunned into silence as it recovers from mayhem and bloodshed. Weeping parents nestle against their living children and lovers embrace as though for the very last time.
     
    And all he can do is watch.
     
    He observes with lazy, half-lidded eyes until a note – no, not just one, but a few – of familiarity encompasses him. Each scent is a hook sinking into Castile’s mind, reviving him from a brief nap on a rolling hillside. Next to him, a cactus stands sentinel. He spares it a single glance but his attention spans beyond it when Starsin enters his peripheral to confirm his thoughts. A lopsided, boyish grin tips the edges of his mouth as he spurs forward and joins her underneath the winter sun.
     
    ”I really wish I could read your mind,” he comments when he draws near enough to be heard, his eyes twinkling in amusement, but he doesn’t elaborate until they’ve stopped. They’re near enough to touch and yet he doesn’t make a gesture to. Instead, he quips with a lighthearted tone. ”Because I’m really curious who you find better in the sack. Litotes or Ophanim,” her body is riddled with their scents, permeated like she had only just left them in the dead of night after a wild rendezvous. Castile’s head inclines as a boyish expression adds a touch of youthfulness to his face. He speaks to her not in a business or stern manner, but as friends would – lighthearted, humored. ”You can tell me. I promise not to tell,” but then his attention slips down to the arc of her stomach. It bulges in accordance with her pregnancy and looming delivery date.
     
    Castile peers up with a lifted brow, his expression still softened and amused. ”Which one had the weak pull out game?”


    castile



    @[Starsin]
    #2

    and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.

    For once, she welcomes the quiet.

    Anyone that knew her, or knew of her, knew how dearly she loved havoc. If there wasn’t any to be found, she would create it. It didn’t always have to be bloodshed. Wars were fun, but they required more work, and had too many moving parts. She preferred one-on-one and something a little more intellectual, where she could just comb through someone’s mind and use their own thoughts to weave her tangled web.

    She was never prepared for the moment that she became ensnared by her own trap, though. She should have known better than to let herself get too close to Litotes; she should have known better than to let him see the real parts of her. Beneath her fierce shell she was broken and weak, and there was a fragile part of her that was so desperate for love – or something like it – that she let herself slip up. There was no going back after that night, and all she had done was cause more turmoil for herself. She had betrayed Ophanim in a way she had promised to never do, because Lie was different than the revenge she sought with Vadar, and different from the fling with Kensa. She doesn’t think he will ever forgive her, because she knows all too well what that bitterness of betrayal feels like, and how she herself held it inside of her like a poison that she could never be rid of.

    But, all things considered, things were quiet. The uneasy storm that brewed in her chest, that sat on her lungs like lead, was her own burden to carry, and true to her nature, no one else would ever see it.

    It’s why when she sees Castile she fashions a smile to her face, the darkness of her blue eyes finding a shimmer of delight as she moves towards him. “Castile,” she says in the rolling purr of her voice, drawing her star-studded body alongside of his. She can’t remember the last time they talked – just talked. Loess had been a wild roller coaster for as long as she had been here, and Castile had arrived not long after her. She wouldn’t admit it, but there was something about him just being here that put her at ease – maybe because she knows he doesn’t expect anything from her, at least, not right now.

    His words incite a roll of her eyes, but the laughter that follows is lilting and amused. “You know a lady doesn’t kiss and tell. Maybe if you knew how to flirt you could just sleep with them and find out for yourself?” The question is punctuated with her teeth briefly landing against his shoulder, a playfully chastising nip before she shifts away with a smirk lifting the edge of her silver lips. “They both could use practice in that department, if I’m being honest.” Because they both have an almost excessive amount of children, though of course it’s only Ophanim’s brood that she pays attention to.

    She wants to leave it at that. She wants to keep everything at only surface level, because it was so much easier that way. That’s why when her voice grows quiet, and some of the spark in her eyes fades, she regrets letting her shield fall a little when she says, “Ophanim won’t be happy. You should be able to draw a conclusion based on that.” But with an almost flippant roll of her shoulders, the mask of indifference is back in place, and she says briskly, “But we all know how good I am at pissing everyone off, so what else is new.”

    starsin

    it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
    ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )



    @[Castile]
    #3
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Their mirthful banter immediately springs a broad grin. It blurs the harsh ridges of his face and softens his metallic eyes as he watches Starsin take her place alongside him. It seems so right, to have her here and to have her as such a core piece of Loess. Their conversations are easy, lighthearted. He was right to keep her as an advisor, to keep her clutched tightly to his chest. Beneath the snide remarks and calculating stares, there is something kind to be said of her. They understand one another and respect each other more and more as the months fade into years. There hasn’t been anyone else that elicits a humor from Castile to this magnitude. His voice is airy, his defensive walls as a King lowered for the time being. ”Perhaps you can spare me a few lessons in flirting,” he comments as a chuckle vibrates through his core all while she nips his shoulder. ”I won’t tell them you said that,” briefly, he imagines both their faces if he slyly added that into conversation, ”maybe.” It would be entertaining to see a rise from them.

    Alas, Castile knows it isn’t his place to rummage into her life. The confirmation comes the moment Starsin’s voice lowers.

    His ears twist forward, the unexpected shift in mood confusing him for a heartbeat. There’s no feasible way for it to be a joke, and so his boyish grin quickly diminishes and curves into a shadowed frown. ”Probably not,” he admits honestly. A shrug ripples through his shoulders, unable to sugar coat anything, especially to someone he holds closely. ”You’ve yet to piss me off, so there’s one good streak going for you,” his grin is feeble, groping for a thread of optimism as she considers her pregnancy, and where it may lead. ”Shit happens,” and some is worse than others, he doesn’t add as his memories recall everything that he has seen and done, how many mistakes he has made and lives he has ruined. ”I’m the co-founder of the fuck-up club, so welcome aboard.” Castile’s voice lowers to match her, knowing well how turbulent and uncertain the future can be.

    But unfortunately, he does not know the extent of their love, of their relationship. It could be explosive and tragic much like his and Sabra’s relationship, or it could be a quiet and painful loss like it had been with Solace. Pursing his lips tightly, Castile considers their fate while reflecting on his own experiences. Everyone is different, but there is one thing that always resonates. ”Be honest,” it’s poor advice to some, but monumental to others. ”All you can do is be honest with him and tell him the truth.” Sometimes, the truth can be a daunting thing, but Starsin has never been afraid of a challenge, of a few ruffled feathers. ”Litotes is probably in a similar predicament with Kensa, I guess. Quite the web you have there, my friend.” The blame isn’t all on her, at least. There’s an interwoven connection across multiple parties. Hearts will be broken, lives will be altered. Alas, the heart wants what it wants, and Starsin seemingly wants quite a bit. ”I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.” He reaches toward her, bumping her slender neck in quiet reassurance.

    castile



    @[Starsin]
    Ayyyy finally posted lol




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