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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


    [private]  All things are possible; Scorch
    #1
    The trees stretch above him, leaves a bright, riotous array of colors that shimmer with clinging dew, darkened by the damp heaviness of the morning. Even in the encompassing fog and dreariness of the gray morning, there is a beauty that speaks to him. Once, he might never have noticed. Once, he had been focused on his pain far more than anything the earth had to offer him. Once, before Ilka had healed him, he had been a very different man.

    He is no longer the man of his youth. No longer so brightly optimistic, with a ready grin upon his lips and endless humor in his heart. He could never be that man again. But neither is he the man filled with boundless sorrow, pain his constant companion and regret eating at his soul. He had never imagined those years ago that there could be this happy medium. That he would age and mature. That he would become a man worthy of Ilka’s love. But he had.

    (Sometimes, he still doubts. Sometimes, the demons of his past still come to haunt him. Sometimes, when his heart is breaking for the pain of his children, for gifts both curse and blessing. But they are so much easier to banish now.)

    He had left Ilka this morning, curled in the snug little hollow they had claimed as their own. Left to stretch his legs, to see the world anew as he is sometimes wont to do. He always returns of course. Sometimes too quickly, perhaps. Sometimes she comes with him. This morning she had been tired though. A faint smile touches his lips at the understanding that had bloomed. He cannot help the small kernel of hope and joy that had unfurled in his heart (though they couldn’t be certain. But he has a feeling. It has been years since the birth of their last child).

    After a short time, his wandering feet have brought him to the banks of the river. He halts there, gaze focusing upon the gurgling waters that stretch before him. For a time, he simply stands there, contemplating the murky flow of the river. Almost absently, he reaches out to pluck at the shadows cast by tree and rock, thoughtlessly creating shapes as he loses himself to his thoughts. He would return soon, but for now, he simply enjoys the moment.
    All things are possible,
    shahrizai
    even the best of things.


    @[Scorch]
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    #2

    WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

    He is perhaps the most like her out of all of her children.

    She remembers the days when she had been full of greedy ambition, impulses, and temper like a light switch. The days, mostly, before she came to life again. Unlike him, her change of character did not come from meeting her lover (though they had met in a similar way. Scorch utterly destroyed at having to face the death of a mother, wandering the common lands in misery - Hestoni being there, coaxing her out of it, guiding her back home, putting her back together piece, by piece, by piece, by piece. Loving her so wholly that eventually, there was too much love between them, and that excess love took the form of children. Many children - just like him) but rather from leaving him in a world she no longer has a connection with.

    Well, not much of a connection.

    How are you today, my love?
    I'm feeling restless. There's too many memories on my mind. I miss you so much.
    Take a walk, Scorch. You always feel better with some exercise.
    ...Okay. But I miss you, you caught that right?
    I miss you too babe. And I love you. But we have a plan, remember? Don't give up now. You're doing
    amazing.
    Thanks Hestoni. And yeah, we do have a plan... The sooner I get to hold you again, the better. I love you too.
    Go for that walk my love.
    Talk soon...


    Her legs wander south without any true inclination as to where might be an acceptable end-destination, but the mindlessness is pleasant, and in fact her conversation with Toni doesn't end. It never does really, not when you're connected like they are. So the time goes quickly, and her expression lightens some, but perhaps it's just a melancholy day, and that's okay.

    She misses her children.
    (There are four of them out there, now, breathing, living, waiting for her to find them)

    The river is a new place for her, and she approaches with caution, cloaking herself in a mix of light and dark that renders her invisible in the early morning twilight. Her ears twitch at the constant rumble of the river, drawn to it: it reminds her of the Jungle, of its never ending stream of screaming and crying from the unseen creatures found there.

    Flicking a lid across her molten red-and-yellow eyes, the mare switches to heat signatures and watches for signs of other creatures around the bank of the river she approaches. For a while, there are none - but then a figure appears, bending his neck not to drink, but to stare at his reflection. Her breath catches.

    The figure has no tail.

    "Shahrizai!"

    She's too far away to be seen, but it doesn't take long for her to change that, discarding her cloak of invisibility and rampaging like a madwoman through the thin forest surrounding the river. And indeed she is a madwoman - for has she not been alive again for over a year without a familiar face to welcome her back? Has she not been a mother with no children? Has she not suffered enough lonely nights.

    "Shahrizai, my baby --" There's not enough time for more words, for then she is upon him, holding him tightly to her with tears streaming down her face. Her precious boy. Her firstborn son. Her most faithful servant, he who watched the children when she and Hestoni died. Her massive frame quakes in his embrace. It's a while before she comes to enough to speak again, though without letting go.

    "I'm so glad you're okay."

    Scorch

    Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle



    wordsplosion.
    @[Shahrizai]
    [Image: scorch2.png]
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