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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


    resurrect the saint within the wretch; flower
    #4
    She allows him the moment she is learning that everyone needs when they turn and find a creature like her waiting in their periphery. The life in this place is almost always some degree of strange and unusual, but she is finding that it is perhaps even stranger to be made of something not living. To be glass, to be transparent with no sign of bone or breath or organ beneath the surface, and yet still a smile on her lips and a gentleness in those shining golden eyes. She can see him work through all of this as he examines her, perhaps weighing the likelihood that she is some strange waking-dream beneath the quiet starlight, and she can see too the moment he straightens and decides something

    He speaks, and she rewards him with a smile as bright as starlight twinkling on her lips, her eyes shining like giant twin moons in a delicate face of ruby. Is it any wonder people always stare? She answers, and she is so unaware of the moment he fades to somewhere so far from her reach. Instead she is patient - though she wonders why he has grown so quiet and still, wonders if she has said too much to a stranger who had only been seeking the solace of a quiet, lonely beach. A graveyard of what-ifs wondered beneath the night, beneath the stars, and come to rest in dark sand.

    She hadn’t even noticed his clouded eyes, but she notices the bright of them when he blinks and meets her gaze again. She hadn’t put any thought into what he might say next, probably his name, or at worst a gruff rebuttal to an overly friendly girl he hadn’t intended to meet. But she finds it’s her turn to be surprised, to stare at him with wide eyes and a mouth slightly agape. Maybe it is the tone of his solemn voice, or that she is too young for that to sound flirtatious, but she believes him without hesitation. Only soft surprise. “Was it a good dream?” She wonders, stepping closer in the dark as though she is preparing to get comfortable for whatever story he might be about to tell. “How did you know it was me if we’ve never met before?”

    FLOWER

    i'm only steady on my knees



    @[Warden]


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    RE: resurrect the saint within the wretch; flower - by flower - 05-13-2020, 07:14 PM



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