Bergamot
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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
The Prodigal Son ( KAVI )
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07-28-2015, 11:56 PM
That everything good is happening somewhere else? The cold wonder of the Chamber never suited me at first. After the flirtatious embrace of the meadow and the security-blanket warmth of the Jungle, this place hit me like stones from the mountain’s top. Thump, thump, goes the Chamber’s heart, but often I find myself second guessing whether that heart remains true and red, or if it has rotted and turned black. Surviving here? Difficult. Thriving here? Nigh on impossible, and I only succeeded because I had someone to look up to. Perhaps history will repeat itself; perhaps family will return to family, and Rhagerou’s blood shall run thickly here, and the Jungle, too. The sharp clanging rouses me from rest; I would not venture to call it sleep, for sleep in these pines reborn from the ashes is uneasy at best. The embrace of the ancient trees had lulled me to sleep many a night, reminding me of the Jungle, of ‘home.’ Now in the emptiness, the old ones have begun growing again, but the ash clings to them as well as us. The Chamberlings. Intrigued by the echoing summon, I roll to my well-bred legs, shaking myself out once equilibrium returns to me. A cloud of ash rises, only to settle upon my Arabian shoulders once more. Pleased with my golden-soot appearance, I take off in a graceful canter towards the ‘large open space,’ my mane and tail streaming behind me like grass in a ferociously strong wind. No really, I appear to be the wind, images of trees, grasses, flowers, rocks and more flowing over my skin as though I command the invisible force. The scene continues until I discovery who awaits within the lichen-covered clearing; then, it disappears, replaced by the night sky. “Bergamot,” I exhale. The use of his full name points towards my growing excitement, despite my quiet tone. Closing the space between us with an unfortunately flamboyant canter-stride or two, I meet my son’s hazel gaze with my amber one. The cool night-wind catches in my throat, but I push past it, too eager to deliver what news I bear. “The wind of fate has changed directions.” Upon the galaxy of my coat, the sun slowly, cautiously begins illuminating the front of my body, a spectre of colours moving gradually across my body; a sunrise. “You can stay here now.” And now I close up, lips sealed, anxiety causing my heart to flutter beneath my ribcage. The lights continue playing across the front of my form, while stars glimmer along my backside. If ever I have yearned for the light, it is now; for if he answers ‘no,’ surely a storm shall overcast the miracle of the sunrise. This post is an example of why I love Kavi SO FRICKEN MUCH. It's like poetry from my fingertips. Too bad he's a stubborn old man who never gives me muse > LOVE YOU |
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