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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


    you take the things you love and you tear them apart; ilka
    #2

    In the recent weeks, Ilka had taken to spending time away from the Gates, perhaps too much time. Her family had a penchant for drifting though, there was wanderlust in their blood. Makai was as nomadic as the birds, and it seemed like the only way to keep him in one place would be to break the wings on which he flew. As it were, in her short life, Ilka had known first the thick green jungle of the Amazon, and then the dark, gutted forests of the Chamber. Those places had been chosen for her, and when she was old enough to make her own choice, she had picked the Gates.

    She had picked the kingdom that would later burn.

    It was why she left so often lately. The stink of ash and soot choked her, the sight of that immense tree struggling to fight off the poison that had been knit so carefully into the roots below. Even she smelled of smoke now, of charred regret and unfulfilled desires. And it was worse that every time she saw Ledger, there was only hollow regret aching for her in those dark eyes. His shame made her feel dirty.

    She paused and looked down at her chest, at the claw mark slashes placed sloppily across her heart. They had been deep, of course they had though. She and Ledger were only a stride apart when the change claimed him and confusion buried those enormous claws into the closest living creature. Her blood had stained the snow at their feet like tears, and when Ledger had finally been able to shift back he had hardly been able to look at her.

    So when a voice pulls her from her quiet musings, it is relief she feels to find the sharp gaze of a stranger holding hers. She pauses a beat, and then, “I am alone.” She confirms with a quiet sigh and a slight nod of that dark, delicate head. “But it is my own fault.” It isn’t, not really, but guilt is a fickle beast. Her pale brown eyes drift to the silver, an impossible color, and the most beautiful one she has ever seen, and then back to a face that seems to wait for something. Uncertainly, she fills the silence with the soft of her quiet voice. “Are you alone?”

    ILKA

    makai x oksana

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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: you take the things you love and you tear them apart; ilka - by Ilka - 10-06-2015, 12:57 AM



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