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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


    [private]  Tired of feeling lost, tired of nothing left [Azlyn]
    #1
    He had smelled her from before… The purple witch who inhabited his nostrils and affected his mind. The sea god had himself taken a respite from the world down to the underbelly of Beqanna, much preferring the company of fish to that of his own kind—and yet even there, she haunted him. Azlyn. The violet beauty with the foul mouth. The one who reminded him that it was okay to be angry at what the world had done to his home.
     
    And so he had taken to the depths. She had aggravated him—gotten under his skin, and he wasn’t even sure why. Or why he had taken on the thought that he would suddenly be safe to take a breath of the air and withdraw his oxygen from someplace other than the water. Ashley, former King of the Dale, had traded land for water, and made his royal court one made out of coral. Seaweed clung to his now green tangled hair, and his skin had taken on a teal green quality. He was still the red buckskin man underneath it all, but this was his disguise. The shattered persona of a fish king that could perhaps be happy somewhere other than where he was—and it seemed that it was within the heart of the sea that he found his peace. And yet, as soon as he has hit the beach and gone into the Forest—he can sense that she is there and has not left.
     
    As if she had ever left him in the first place.
     
    “I know you’re there, Azlyn. There is no use hiding from me. Not as if you could, with your purple ass hanging in the wind.” He is not nice to her. There is no need to be nice to one who so enjoys antagonizing him. Grating him and goading him…She knows who he is, and doesn’t care. A little boy with a cardboard crown, she sees him as. Nothing more than a boy with a cardboard crown and a stick as a sceptre. And though she makes him angry—he enjoys it.
     
    He enjoys feeling anything.
     
    ashley
    I walked the path, it led me to the end.
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    Tired of feeling lost, tired of nothing left [Azlyn] - by Ashley - 10-24-2016, 12:33 PM



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