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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


    the flowers bloom like madness in the spring; any
    #2

    You were automatic, as hollow as the 'o' in God.

    This place would have made Mother afraid. She would have quivered within her tiny silver black body, she would have trembled. Never mind that he too would have instilled fear in her without the Magic to fool her into calm submission. He’d taken her once, blinded her with his beauty, coaxed her to him with mesmerizing constellations and galaxies etched into his skin. Many had fallen prey to such tricks, Mother was not the first or only, she did not have to worry about being the last either. If the dead even humor such trivial emotions or woes, if they even worry- I say they don’t.

    I am not easily afraid, that is why I remain. I am not easily pushed under the thumb, weakness is something I do not care to harbor or display. My Mother had done too much of that, I had witnessed how easily her precious and gentle life was snuffed because of it. Falling prey to the same fate is something on my list of things not to do, so instead I pursue dominating this barren land. I will thrive here or I will die trying and I will not worry over long on the latter- death does not shake me so.

    Sickly, wasted, I don’t like it at all. The bare ground is enough to earn a glare from my copper eyes, the dry riverbeds are that which ensure my hearty grumble.

    Each morning I make a trip to the common lands to ensure my basic needs are met, food, water. And while I dont actively pursue the companionship of the others that live here, I can not manage to avoid them altogether. Most days I glare my disapproval from afar, eyeing most with a guarded gaze and displaying the opposite of affections. Not that they want it, not that they seek it from me or anyone else. It serves for my own satisfaction, quietly disliking them from a distance. And yet here I am, finding myself much too close from another resident.

    At least it isn’t that watchful palomino, something’s not right about that boy.

    {TIOGA}

    khaos x wichita

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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: the flowers bloom like madness in the spring; any - by Tioga - 09-20-2016, 08:32 PM



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