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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


    how strange, to be anything at all; any
    #2

    and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
    ‘cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

    From the outside, Adna can only see the happy.

    She sees the joy of Ophie and his family together—a beautiful trio of him, Starsin, and their son. Plus the other children that they have adopted into their brood. And she can only feel left out, abandoned, knowing full well that her two beautiful children would never truly be accepted with open arms.

    And how could she blame them?

    They were her children after all.

    She loves her son and daughter—their smiles and laughter and mischievous youth—but she knows in her heart that she has bestowed upon them a curse that they will never outrun and never outmaneuver. No matter how long they live and how good they may be, they will always have the poison in their veins.

    If only, if only, she could save them from that.

    Today, she leaves them back home. She gives them a smile, as best as she can, and then turns to the river. To a place where she cannot hear her thoughts over the roaring of the waves and the crashing of the water against the branches—that is, until she finally reaches a place where it grows calm.

    It is only then that she sees the familiar form and something twists in her throat. He is beautiful as he always is but he is also the man who led the charge against her mother’s home. He rained fire down on her family and was part of the events that led to her father throwing himself in the volcano.

    But he is Ophie.

    She feels something like gravity tug in her chest and she grows still, her sage eyes dimming.

    She considers calling out to him—saying anything at all—but her throat is dry and her tongue thick and the only thing she can manage is to drop her head slightly until the gentle curls of her forelock hide her gaze from him completely. She stares at the dirt at her feet and wishes herself anywhere but here.

    adna

    we're setting fire to our insides for fun
    collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home



    @[Ophanim]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: how strange, to be anything at all; any - by adna - 06-19-2019, 10:42 PM



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