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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


    [mature]  It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp | Dizzy
    #1
    He began to regret it the very moment he started walking away from them. He'd only just gotten his daughters back and in a safe place. Reunited with Dizzy.. sort of. But fuck, he just could NOT stand there a second longer. Not when they were so close and yet still felt so far away from each other. The look on her face every time her eyes passed over Dovev. And then when they landed on him. Burning him further with their lack of.. Everything he needed. She seemed happy to see the girls again, and for that he was grateful. Whatever bullshit she had told him before about forcing or pretending her feelings for them seemed to have passed.. Unless she was still doing a damn good job. Zoryn just couldn't stand there any longer. He was no good at pretending.

    At least he knew the girls were safe, that much made it slightly okay. Even as half of him was wrenching him back to them, the other half told him no good would come of it if he didn't keep walking. Especially as he replayed the expression on her face over and over in his mind. His chest tightened, his gut churned. His heart ached with renewed pain. The worst pain. So heavy and burdensome. Add to that this wretched persistent cough and it was all going to be death of him.

    The beast hadn't stopped stirring in a while now. Ever the more restless and pacing in the darkness of its cage like it was waiting for something. Every so often, the gold and white skin of him would burn as though something was crawling beneath it, rising to the surface. Those moments, the beast grew louder with its growls and moans. It was driving him mad, doing absolutely nothing to help assuage the torment in his mind. Every other thought was rage or pain or the beast. He didn't know how much more he could take. It had been a while again since he'd unleashed the darkness inside him, but anymore he was becoming afraid to. The last time he'd succumbed, the plague spread over Beqanna, and he had been riddled with its toxicity ever since.

    He walks until he can find a darker spot in the forest innermost on the island. He'd always liked being surrounded by trees. Just now, a breeze whispers in through the leaves and branches, cooling his fevered skin only slightly. He hates how just the brief walk to where he stands has winded him. How every time he tries to take a deep breath, flames seem to lick at the walls of his lungs and rise to his throat. His cough this time ends in an awful wheeze and he leans his weight against the solid trunk of a tree. "Fuck this shit.." He grumbles, voice crackling. Much as he'd love to sink his teeth into something, he was in no state to do so. Zor lowers his head a bit, carefully weighing how much air he takes in or lets out, and closes his eyes to find some sort of reprieve. Except, like some prisoner in Hell, the nightmares take him. And he loses all sense of time and space.
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    #2
    Dizzy didn’t push Zor, didn’t rush to his side to try and fix what was broken between them. She had her babies to cuddle, and her battered heart had learned what it was to need space. The least she could do was give him the same. Especially when she’d seen the way the light went out of his eyes looking at her, the pain hiding in the depths of shadows she’d put there. She hurt him with every breath, with every turn, with every choice she made and everything she didn’t feel. He deserved some time to gather himself together, and she gave it. She took care of the kids and herself and let him have his space, for a little while.

    But he was still her brother, and she couldn’t help but worry.

    She’d seen the sickness in him, the plague burning in his veins just like it had burned in Dov’s, and Zor had no one to fuss over him and take care of him. No one to brush the hair back from his face, hold him when shivers wracked his body, no one to croon soft comfort in his ears and tell him it was gonna be alright. Maybe staying away was just another way of being a coward. And she was sick to death of being afraid.

    So she went to him, setting aside all of her shit to be there for her brother when he was sick and hurting. Even if she was the reason why. She tracked him down and sidled up next to him in the shade he loved so much, pressed her lips to his forehead in a covert attempt to check how high his fever was running. “Zor,” she murmured softly, brushing his forelock off his face and peering down at him with worried eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve missed you. How are you feeling, honey, that cough sounds awful.”
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