"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
02-03-2019, 10:00 PM (This post was last modified: 02-03-2019, 10:00 PM by cosmos.)
Cosmos
A pink light amongst the East, Cosmos wanders its lands as if they all belong to her. They do belong to me, she thinks, pausing at the border of Pangea and Silver Cove as she drinks in the cleaner breeze. Sick equines, healthy equines, sweet and salty both - they mingle in her nostrils and coat her tongue.
They smell of fear.
None of them will embrace the sickness that has ravaged Beqanna. White and gold whisps tip into her eyes when her head tilts into a curious smile. Lips closed, eyes gleaming, whole body leaning into the ocean’s wind - Cos is a lovely sight, the only hint of plague a slight dribble of blood dripping onto her lips. The girl has been fortunate enough to feel only mild symptoms, perhaps a sign that staying in the land of the Dark God offers certain favors (musings she keeps entirely within Pangea’s borders).
Above a storm brews. Gray clouds reflect like little orbs of light in her lavender and gold eyes. She lifts her muzzle to the sky, holding the refreshing scent of rain at the bottom of her lungs. With the looming dampness comes the newly discovered ache in her joints; no matter, Cos was never meant to be a warrior (just a prophet, always a messenger). The pain washes over her in light waves, pulsing and only increasing in miniscule amounts.
Physical pain has never bothered her.
Existential pain, though - that always has.
She does not dwell on that now.
The rain begins to fall as she steps over the border. Curls are loose and heavy as they dampen against her neck. Pretty, dainty, curious - and yet somehow fierce with knowledge at the same time.
The sickness has found its way to Aegean, but he doesn’t succumb to it—not completely.
It results in a heaviness to his normally airy body, bloodstains on his ivory lips, a haze of thoughts, a fever dream that he cannot escape. It follows him even when he is in the Cove. The usual lights and stars and beauty of it not lost on him but muted by the veil of the plague that surrounds him. It warps the world so that it tilts dangerously beneath his feet, but he embraces such madness, rolling it around on his tongue.
He almost doesn’t recognize her at first, and he cannot decide if the way she has changed is due to the years that have begun to stretch her body—turning the childish roundness into the beginning of mature lines—or the sickness that just slips over the surface of his vision, leaving him to peer out behind it.
When it finally does click, when he is finally able to see her for what and who she is, his lips curve upward, the smile slow but genuine. his amethyst eyes spark with pleasure and his body radiates and even more intense light as he begins to make his way toward her, stone hooves heavy but beautiful.
“Cosmos,” he wraps her name around his tongue, feeling the syrupy slowness of it as he angles up beside her. Horns begin to curve from his head, the beginning stages of soon-to-be proud antlers, and he drops to press his cheek to hers. “It has been so long.” The pink of her looks especially bright tonight and he takes his time appreciating it, feeling that faint pitter patter in his chest, that tightening. “I have missed you.”
When he sees the small stain of blood, he reaches out, his own bloodstained lips sweeping over it.
02-12-2019, 11:30 PM (This post was last modified: 02-12-2019, 11:31 PM by cosmos.)
Cosmos
Out of the storm comes the glowing brilliance of an old friend. The blood on Cosmos’ lips spreads across her teeth when she smiles, a tomboyish addition to a brightly feminine girl. She recalls their time in the Playground, her failed quest, his scent on the wind when she wanders the border. He is a part of a much more innocent time, but his growing form suggests he may be a part of her future, as well.
Cosmos.
Hesitant rain splatters her face when she leans into the sound of his voice. The way his utterance twists around her name is so pleasant to her ears she is practically purring by the time the last syllable comes out. White and golds strands fall into her lavender eye when she steps closer, sweet smile welcoming his gaze as it reflects her brilliant pink.
The first twinges of romance come strange. For most of Cos’ life there was Jude, Myrkari, and Magnus. Tephra is a distant memory, now, but she finds she misses it as her childhood crush circles back. Pangea and Yidhra still consume her, spin webs she is forever caught in, but this brief glimpse of youth through her adulterated veil reveals the innocence she possesses. Namely, the way her heart trips at Aegean’s touch, the way a gentle laugh escapes at the sight of her blood on his lips.
The space between them closes with a whoosh when the pegasus presses her cheek to the impossible boy’s. A kiss to the spot where his cheek meets his neck follows, then yet another pleased laugh.
“Oh, Aegean, you have no idea how good it is to see you,” she murmurs on an exhale, more fact than excitement. It is the truth - she needs company and his kindred spirit will do just the trick. She pulls back with a sincere grin, then gestures to the pale gray beyond him.
“Would you mind showing me what the beach looks like in the rain?” Cos begins to walk in the direction of the cove that gives this land its namesake, casting a mismatched gaze to her companion as she does.
It is a simple thing, and you would think he would have gotten used to it now with how often he falls in love, but it is exhilarating all the same. He finds himself enamored with the gentle curve of her cheek, with the feminine beauty of her pink skin and dual-colored eyes. His is enchanted by the silver bells of her voice, and he doesn’t bother to hide the admiration in his amethyst gaze as he watches her.
She leans into his touch and he accepts it eagerly, breathing her in and committing it to memory.
“Is it as good as seeing you?” he asks softly, his voice androgynous in the way that it straddles the line between feminine and masculine. It is much like all of him—the strength of his body and the softness of his mouth, the dreaminess of his amethyst eyes and the beginnings of a wicked curve to his antlers.
He doesn’t mind.
When she asks if he will show her the beach, he cannot imagine wanting to do anything more. “Yes, of course,” he breathes, the whisper carrying the distance between them. The rain continues to fall, continues to plaster his mane against the curve of his neck, and he reaches over to brush blood-stained lips against her forehead, pushing the tendrils of her forelock out of her eyes. “I would love nothing more.”
Aegean takes a step back and gestures her forward.
“Come on, let’s go.”
A step forward to close the distance between them so that he can breathe her in once more, pressing a kiss to the gentle slope of her neck before stepping back once more and turning his gaze to the cove. He’s always loved the beach during the storm, but he can't think of a time he would love it more than with her..
There is nothing sweeter than the touch of an old friend. With age, the feeling between the pair has intensified; its flavor now supple and thick upon her tongue, as if she had drawn a trickle of his blood into her mouth. Aegean’s lips upon her nape are so warm that little goosebumps rise along each side of her neck. How interesting it is to meet in these circumstances: beneath the romantic rain, two brilliantly marked creatures too bright against the backdrop.
When they reach the shore, Cosmos rushes into the irritable waves. The water is gray as it holds the reflection of the sky - dark and frothy with the might of the rain. She smiles into its strength, welcoming the sting of the salt as it slaps her chest. There she stands, not wondering if her glowing friend follows. She thinks he will understand, having the same wondrous and strange heart as she.
“Aegean,” she calls, casting her characteristic charming and enthralled gaze back at him, “how can you stand to live amongst such wild beauty all the time!” The smile on her face is magnificent, enamored, blooming with each clear drop that slams into her face. The absolute peace and delight she feels at sharing such emotions is overwhelming: the tides of sensation escape in little tears that most would mistake for the rain.
Joy has been slim for her recently, and Aegean reminds her that Yidhra is not the only connection she may make.
“Tell me, beautiful boy, what do you dream of?” A query most might find odd, but Cos simply chases the feeling. She leans to press her cheek to his, wanting to feel the answer in his skin as well as in her ears.
when you go,
take this heart
@[aegean] don’t mind me just taking eight million years to reply : (
03-09-2019, 11:09 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2019, 11:10 PM by aegean.)
love is my religion. i could die for that.
He is still as he watches her surge into the ocean, as the swollen sky splits open above them, the rain falling fast and hard. He does not glow any less brilliantly in this stormy weather and although her may shiver from the onslaught of cold, he is not overly bothered by it. Instead, his eyes never leave her, never leave the curve of her hip or the way that the waves rise up to meet her chest—the way that she is as wild and formidable as the ocean itself. She could conquer it, he thinks, and he would not be surprised.
Still, she calls for him, and he does not try to deny her.
He pulls his feverish body across the sand and into the tide, the water glowing softly around him as his light casts outward. His antlered head tips backward slightly and his pale lips spread into a smile as he feels the water rise around him and then fall down across his face. When he looks down, his dark purple eyes remain dreamy. “I cannot imagine a life not filled with such rich beauty as this.”
It’s true. He’s never known anything but this life, this world, this wonder. He has never known anything but the Cove and all of its majestic wonder. She presses into his cheek and he readily presses back, feeling the warmth of her as such a stark contrast to the frigid waves that surround them. He closes his eyes and breathes her in, lips at her mouth lightly. “I dream of so many things,” he confesses, thinking of both the dreams of his own creation and those of his dreamweaver mother. “But tonight I will dream of you.”
