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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


    [mature]  Sidewalk scenes and black limousines (Any)
    #4
    " ... but always keep them on a leash."
    The seemingly broken body underneath his paws shifts and ripples, drawing his attention back ‘round. He stretches out a paw to pat her cheek again, sensing life rising to the surface, when suddenly she clenches, limbs jerking wildly. She is going to blow! Hastily he leaps back into the shallows, chastising her with high-pitched chucks that tumble over one another into a stream of river otter curses. No matter it is he to blame, at least in partial, for her sudden Lazarus-rise; the river regurgitation he could have done without. The cold water stirs and roils about his ankles, disturbed again by her violent thrashing and heaving. When he thinks he is probably a safe distance away, while still being close enough to investigate, he turns to face her again.

    She makes no motion to stand but takes in her surroundings. Blinking slowly, taking in her surroundings before she finally notices him. It has been so long since he’s done more than hunt and sleep in the sun, leaping from form to form with the whim of his will. At times, great, powerful creatures but, more often than not it was the simpler creatures like this otter that carry him. The sudden shove of magic catches him off-guard, setting off a chain reaction somewhere in his chest. It burns in every pit and hollow of his DNA, urging marrow and bone and flesh to change - to revert.

    Her apology distracts him from the creeping feeling of invasion and the burn it instigated. He cocks his head to the side when she begs he leave, swiping at the corner of his mouth with a water-logged paw when she turns from him. It's then the burning sensation flares and a change takes place. With a surge and a tear, sleek brown fur gives way to a pied, scar-marked hide. Bones crack and tremor, a soft breath amidst the forceful change. His uneven, knotted mane falls haphazardly to one side and the other; that mischievous golden gaze only partially hidden by his forelock. Set yawns and stretches in a feline manner, cracking joints restored. “You know,” he starts, and stops again to clear his throat of its huskiness, moving back around in front of her. Lowering his head, he tugs at her forelock, the velvet of his muzzle drifting down her sodden, cold-wracked frame in the barest of touches, unbothered by her obvious distress. His touch pauses at her wings, iridescent in the light when the forest allows it.

    Retreating again, his eyes narrow thoughtfully, mismatched ears flicking forward and then back as he studies her. She will not find him so easily accessible now. “I’ll forgive your transgression,” he finally says, lips spread in a wide grin, one that meets his eyes. “You’re weak, dying maybe,” he continues, nonchalant, eyes shifting to the forest surrounding and then back to her. Shifting his weight, he takes a breath. His exhalation will warm her entirely, wring the damp and cold from her body, if she so chooses. “What makes you think you’re a danger to me?”
    SET
    alliance champion, once king, mage
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    RE: Sidewalk scenes and black limousines (Any) - by Set - 10-17-2019, 01:17 AM



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