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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


    trippin on the constellations we see [ANY]
    #2
    this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
    Whether it’s fate or simply chance, but it seems the former Queen has reappeared when there is again, a sense that the cohesion amongst them has dissipated. Eager eyes and ears crawl out of the green darkness every now and then, but so quickly find themselves back there, turning to recluses and forgetting their sisters. Even Scorch was gone for awhile. She was gone when they lost their tattoos. Lagertha scoffs quietly at the thought, adding it to the list of wrong she mentally tallied up against the now-literally-naked-rat. She would never speak them aloud, of course. But they were there, tucked away into the back of her mind.

    Her dam was the original warrior queen.
    One day she would be one as well.
    The only one better suited for succession to the throne was Rhy, and she didn’t ever seem to want the crown.
    So that left Lagertha. Lagertha Kingstealer. Lagertha and her ambitions.

    The horned, gray General follows a seldom used trail, her broad chest and powerful legs overpowering vines and creepy tangly bits that threatened to bury the path forever. She is not on patrol, but is nevertheless alert, and when she breaks into the central clearing, her eyes are almost immediately drawn to a mare she doesn’t know. A mare who does not seem ill at ease in the heavy heat, and does not have the tell-tale mess of underbrush about her - the sign of a visitor who does not know the way. Without the tattoos they must recognize each other by sight or smell, and neither click while she approaches the stranger. She could be friend, or a very well informed foe.

    Lagertha will usually demand that a stranger get out, or quickly state their business, but this time is different. She is still challenging and brusque, but this time she is not nearly so aggressive. “I do not know you, and I know all the sisters. Identify yourself, please.” She fixes the mare with a neutral, hard-as-steel gaze. Best tell the truth, now. Lagertha doesn’t play games.

    lagertha
    carnage x grim reaper; amazonian general


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: trippin on the constellations we see [ANY] - by Lagertha - 07-19-2015, 04:50 PM



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