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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


    and these are the days that never end; kerberos
    #2
    Ohhhh it was just about that time of year again, and Cur was on the prowl. Looking for a nice new toy to play with, some hungry little thing with fire in her eyes or a shy little waif, maybe a little mouse that needed to learn a few tricks, or oooh a drab little honey he could carve up real good and leave her prettier than she’d started. Well, prettier to his eyes anyhow. Well and all the pheromones wafting up from all those glorious holes tended to get the boys good and riled up too.

    Mmm, he could get into all sorts of trouble, have all kinds of fun, and wasn’t that just delicious?

    Their mouths worked just as well, and it was fun to make them squirm, make them want, make them hate themselves a little bit for the fire that raged in their veins, the need that coursed through them and made them decide maybe just this once they could expand their horizons a little and just see what it was like. Iron could be a harsh mistress, but when he could make it flow like flesh it could still make for a fun ride, and he’d talked and touched and teased his way into a few of their bodies if not their hearts.

    Who wanted their hearts?
    Sure as hell not him.

    Anyhow, he was strutting around the forest, looking for somebody to bang, or maybe to throw their own shinies at if it’d make ‘em good and miserable, but that wasn’t exactly what he came across. Heh. Came. But yeah, no, not somebody bangable at all. Just some squishy little kid shivering in the grass. Now, Kerberos was not the paternal type. By any stretch of the imagination. Ew. No thanks. But this particular little bundle of fluff and snot and need had some magic that could use waking, and it was a little too familiar. He narrowed his eyes and stalked over to the little whelp, all nestled down in the grass. Subtle and quiet weren’t really in his particular skill set, given he was huge and shiny and colorful and made of iron and whatnot, so he didn’t try to sneak over. No use bothering with that.

    Spotty like him. Green like her. And the magic that he’d been whammied with when the sexy badass fairy had put the shiny metal back in his shiny metal ass -- ah if only literally, he’d definitely have let her -- oh right, focusing. Magic whammy etc etc left him able to feel out the little…thing’s gifts. Plant, like her. And his own messianic ability to walk on water.

    Well shit.

    “Where the fuck’s your dam, kid?” You aren’t my goddamn problem.
    Bite my shiny metal ass.
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: and these are the days that never end; kerberos - by Kerberos - 12-18-2016, 07:30 PM



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