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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


    in the darkest hour, the dead of night
    #6
    Rosebay

    She frowns, just slightly, when he looks away toward the storm and wishes that her gift was strong enough to pull his attention back by force. Instead she has to rely on her appeal alone, and she softens just in time before he looks back, glancing up from beneath her lashes and fitting him with a sweet smile. If she is obvious in her flirting, she does not mind. He looks like one who expects to be flirted with, who invites it, and she is glad to play the role for him now—coy and admiring as she studies him openly.

    At the quirk of his brow, she laughs, a silvery, tinkling sound as she shakes her neck so that the flowers ruffle in her mane. “They are quite sweet,” she lies, taking a step closer to him—emboldened by his attention. “I do not much like the taste of anything but,” her gaze dips to his mouth for a moment, lingering there for a moment too long before they slide back to find the olive of his eyes.

    The implication is clear, and she does not elaborate further.

    Rosebay soaks in the heady feeling of control as she holds his gaze, looking for that core and that grip. When she finds it, she pushes her enthrallment forward quite forcefully, knowing that she would need to exhaust nearly all of her gift. “You should take a bite,” she twists the command until it sounds more like a suggestion, her brown lips tilting up in the corners. “I promise that you will,” her voice drops off as she lets the silence stretch for just a moment longer before continuing, “enjoy it quite a bit.”

    She isn’t sure if her enthrallment is strong enough to convince him he likes the taste of the bitter flower, but she’s willing to try. And as she watches his handsome face, she nearly feels a pang of regret.

    Nearly.

    but in all chaos, there is calculation



    @[Pteron]
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    RE: in the darkest hour, the dead of night - by rosebay - 01-16-2021, 09:22 PM



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