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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


    don’t love me, I’m quicksand - abysm
    #1
    A different kind of prison; that’s all the time spent between ash colored rocks had amounted to.  Coiled and placid in the embrace of downy, grey drifts, the realization settled into her slumbering mind as the warm cinders settled over her body.  In an attempt to find freedom within the depths of the ocean, she’d found nothing but profound isolation and a prison of her own making.  What difference did it make, to have a cell made of water or lava; it was all the same in the end.  And now, just as it had then, a forgotten part of her cried out to be acknowledged, desperate and longing to unravel the paralyzing bonds of fear rooted in a past beyond her control.

    It moved her, that voice, metaphorically and literally towards the drag and expansion of the framework so distinctly serpentine into her form more vulnerable.  But the grey of her eyes would refuse to bleed away from the yellowed eyes of the predator.  Using the signatures of heat to guide the fluid steps down a foreign path, Tephra dissolved into the horizon at her back and towards the only one who’d spiked her fear and given her a taste of hope in the same span of a heartbeat.

    The splash of alabaster and pale gold call her forward, as her vision shifts in turn.  Time had passed, and where she’d once known a boy enlightened by the brilliance of a sunny day, she would now find the angular features of a young man grown.  For as much as he’d changed, she had done little, save for the equid body his gaze would fall upon today.  And if he would spare a harder glance, he’d recognize the brightness of intelligent eyes once seen before in a slender, banded guise.

    “You” she starts then pauses, choking over both words and fathoming the possibility alike, “you had asked me before if I could have freedom for a little while, if I would take it.”  That moment so deeply etched into her mind and tainting everything else since then replayed effortlessly behind her slitted eyes.   “Do you remember?”

    @[abysm]
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    Messages In This Thread
    don’t love me, I’m quicksand - abysm - by Kerrigan - 02-24-2019, 08:56 PM



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