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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


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    [mature]  If you hurt me I wouldn't cry [Cheri]
    #1

    Kiss me again
    Kiss me until I am sick of it

    The Pampas remained quiet so far since his proclamation over them. As much as he can tell, he’s the only one here and will remain so until he sees fit to change it otherwise. Well, not completely alone. The faeries that called the Pampas home had shown themselves to him. They had been curious, seeing the dark stallion still smeared with golden streaks pressed with tiny fae hands from the festival, able to sense something of familiarity in the way he had been adorned with glints of gold. They weren’t quite sure of him yet but seemed open enough when he displayed basic comprehension of their ways and a few had agreed to find his fae friends from the Meadow and offer them a place here amongst the wildflowers.

    That’s the most he’s accomplished so far, not wanting to stray too far until he’s sure there’s nobody else to try and dispute his claim. It leaves plenty of room for partying and this is how he spends most of the day, drinking with the fae. They had also pointed out the strange red flowers whose pollen once inhaled cause a drowsy state of hallucinations and this has easily become one of his new favorite drugs. Much more pleasant than the bitter taste of mushrooms that stick in his teeth. The way he takes to drugs and drink broke down whatever remaining barriers that lingered with the fae and within a few days he feels he can consider them friends and they accept his presence easily. He finds this crew to be a much more debauched group than the Meadow ones, encouraging his bad behaviors with mischievous glee which he obliges too without batting a crimson eye.

    It’s in this state, rolled on his back in the soft crush of flowers as he watches the patterns in the clouds dance and change, that he finds himself. Half drunk fae hang out of cupped petals, laughing and smearing more gold pollen over his cheeks. The feeling isn’t unpleasant and he submits to their whims, laughing just as obnoxiously as they are as they dance and prank each other ruthlessly. It’s easy here to not think of anything at all, to forget the things that prick beneath his skin, to simply be rude and drunk and not think of anything important at all.


    Obscene



    @[Cheri]


    Messages In This Thread
    If you hurt me I wouldn't cry [Cheri] - by Obscene - 04-30-2021, 03:20 PM



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