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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


    [open]  when they finally come to destroy the earth; any
    #1

    Morgayne

    Little Morgayne, bubble gum and black visits Loess once again. Passing back through on her way home before her ‘Daddies’ could remember her and their unusual responsibility for their little sister. She is one of the littlest and most delicate occupants of Pangea, and one of the most mobile. Easily bored and often annoyed at being still, it is lucky she does not have to behave for a mother or father, only be raised by her brothers in a land too lawless to care what trouble she gets up to.

    Morgayne has just been back to Sylva to play a game of spying on her mother. Once bored of that she had played in the river until a dirty, bloody woman rose up out of it. “What are you supposed to be?” She had sniped, though sniping is significantly less effective when you are a fluffy pink baby and use the word suppothed. After a brief discussion with the Kensa and poking at it a bit, finding the broken places and imagining them the way they ought to be, she had yawned and gone for a nap in a pile of leaves. It was hard work making sure things were done correctly. When she woke the creature was gone, and Morgayne now rested and weary of Sylva once more, turned back for home.

    In Loeth she makes a game of racing around the bladed leaves of agave plants and leaping little nests of spiky cacti. Her progress is thus delayed, and naturally her ungainly legs drop her at last into a small colony of cacti with particularly savage thorns. Morgayne squeals and flails free of the plants hastily, spring away the safety of a patch of ferns. Her blood paints the fronds and she curls her head around to painstakingly ease the broken spines she is able to reach out of the flesh of her barrel. A constellation of red stars decorates the cotton candy sky that is her heaving little side and with each little tug she lisps irritably,“Stupid cactuses.”


    when they finally come, what'll you do to them
    gonna decimate them like you did to me?
    will you leave them stunned and stuttering

    #2
    my heart is violent because it learned how to bleed at a young age
    when it is hungry I feed it with shaking hands.

    His mother is resting after a particularly long game of tag with her darling boy but Malone is still brimming with energy. He waits until he’s certain that her breaths are slow and even from sleeping while her thoughts dwindle to senseless dreams. Finally, he eases himself from her side and tiptoes from the shade of the tree she likes to sleep under. Doesn’t she know that he’s too old for naps now? A triumphant grin spreads over his handsome little face, half gold and hold ink black with shimmering stars in the depthless dark.
     
    Once he’s six or so feet away from the napping Starsin, his spindly legs carry him into a reckless trot toward the more open areas of Loess. He’s begun to fill out a bit and his ribs are no longer showing beneath his gorgeous coat. Likewise, the strands of his mane and tail are long enough that his locks hang downward rather than out in little tufts of baby fuzz. It was evident from the moment he drew his first breaths that he would be a gorgeous thing but he grows more impressive with each passing day. (He knows because his parents tell him so.)
     
    His black eyes framed by black sclera turn when he spots the powder pink girl among the ferns, bleeding and grumbling to herself. Her thoughts are frustrated and messy but she doesn’t seem to be fuming over her injuries. Malone comes to a clumsy halt near her, tilting his head as he looks at the barbs still out of her reach.
     
    Do you want some help? I can pull them out if you want,” he calls softly, little wings slightly lifted from his sides as his ears turn forward to listen for her answer. The boy’s right foreleg remains poised for his next step but he fears intruding on her privacy. The summer sun manages to dim the shine of the stars across his body but in exchange it sets the gold splashes on fire as they glimmer in the heat. If he hadn’t bumped into her, he might’ve taken to sun bathing for a while.
     
    Oh, but he should be polite and introduce himself, shouldn’t he?
     
    My name is Malone, by the way! What’s yours?
    m a l o n e
    @[Morgayne]
    #3

    Morgayne

    Morgayne pulls thorns and grooms her side, and she’s got her own constellation of bloody stars smeared into her fur. It doesn’t matter that it hurts or the blood is oozing, injury is temporary—especially for the roan child—but she isn’t about to heal these spines into her skin like a mess of improbable piercings.

    Life as a porcupine does not interest the Pangean infant. 

    She does not hear the beautiful boy approach, so intent on the offense of the cacti. When his voice rises over her own frustrated mutters she looks up at him with her lovely eyes and drops her small dark ears against her skull aiming her vexation at him instead. When she snorts, preparing to tell him off she realizes (painfully) that a great many thorns still stick out from her ribs and haunches and that she has no chance of reaching them. Spitting out a spine, resignation calms the ferocity of her expression. “Yes. I do need help.” Though were their positions reversed she would not have asked at all and so she could not understand or respect his courtesy, she is a tiny bull-headed thing that takes care of herself and sets others right whether anyone likes it or not. “My name is Morgayne. I fell into a cactus.” The pink child is sulky, she always tends her own hurts and is disappointed that this one has occurred at all.

    “Don’t jump cactuses.” Morgayne advises, her lisping speech grave. She demonstrates the length of her reach for him, since she is unable to curl in on herself to pull the spines and then returns to drawing them out. She does not notice his splendidness, and bristles against politeness, confused by it. “Thank you for your help.” These words are a bit stilted, she thinks that’s what she is supposed to say but if it’s wrong oh freaking well.

    when they finally come, what'll you do to them
    gonna decimate them like you did to me?
    will you leave them stunned and stuttering


    @[Malone]
    #4
    my heart is violent because it learned how to bleed at a young age
    when it is hungry I feed it with shaking hands.

    When her ears lay flat against her lovely head, he takes a cautious step back and feels his own ears lower in shame. Malone fears he may have intruded despite his good intentions. Starsin had warned him about being too kind but his heart is as gold as his body. But then she spits a few of the barbs out and confesses that she does, in fact, need his help, much to his delight. He gleefully closes the distance between them with bouncing steps and lowers his head to her body to look at the cactus spines.

    Gingerly, the star boy takes a small cluster of maybe three barbs in his teeth and gives them a sharp tug. He worries that perhaps this sort of impression will cause her to forever associate him with pain. Still, he can’t leave her with all these needles in her body, so he continues to pluck them from her skin in little clumps. “Morgayne is a cool name,” he comments with a brief smile as he pauses to reply before continuing on. He laughs softly and the sound is like sun tea spilling from his lips when she offers him a word of advice.

    He watches her curl her head and he nods, edging himself closer to the areas she cannot reach. Malone works carefully and quickly to tug he remaining needles from her before finally skittering back to face her once more. There are a few nicks here and there across his face that he can feel now but they aren’t so bad that regrets helping her out. When she grumbles her thanks to him, he smiles once more and lightly bumps her nose with his own. He doesn’t mind her sour thoughts but rather hopes he’s helped enough that she forgets feeling ashamed.

    You’re welcome! I like your pointy teeth,” he says as his short tail wiggles excitedly. His wings finally fold into their relaxed state across his back but his eyes continue to dance as he mulls over the prospect of having a new friend. Malone loves his brothers and sisters, of course, but they all seem to feel obligated toward him because of his mother. Maybe a bullish girl like Morgayne could be a true friend to him, he thinks.
    m a l o n e
    @[Morgayne]
    #5

    Morgayne

    The pink girl squeaks and stomps her small black hoof when Malone pulls the first bunch of thorns but she does not glower at him, only draws a deep breath and continues to pull needles. He is faster than she was on her own, better able to see and grab the tiny spikes. She grunts at his friendly compliment, pausing to focus on him for a minute, feeling obligated to answer him. “Malone is a bit like Morgayne.” Its not that like it, but she can’t bring herself to say that anything is cool (not really sure what the word means and so wary of using it). Going back to plucking spines she warns the boy not to jump cactuses and he laughs. Her eyes narrow a fraction but the soft peals are full and sweet instead of mocking. Why is everyone else so confusing? He must already know not to jump cactuses. Maybe his mother told him. She has learned that some people’s mothers tell them not to do things.

    Once all the sharps are removed Malone waltzes out in front of her. The pink child gives herself a shake and though all the tiny punctures hurt she can feel they are empty. Their muzzles bump and she looks critically at the pricks and cuts, little wells of blood, on the boys too handsome face.

    Morgayne does not want to like Malone and almost resists the boy entirely, almost leaves and does not say goodbye...but he says he likes her fangs and in spite of herself her dark lips pull back from those pointy teeth her nose wrinkles with a very small grin. This melts then into a petulant frown. “Hold still Malone.” She says and pushes her small muzzle against the bridge of his nose, long lashes falling over her pink and blue eyes as she pictures his face back as it was (though she cannot pull back the blood already spilled). She manages to heal her own wounds at the same time and draws away with a sneeze. “There!” She declares with a succinct bob of her head followed by another sneeze.

    when they finally come, what'll you do to them
    gonna decimate them like you did to me?
    will you leave them stunned and stuttering



    @[Malone]
    #6
    my heart is violent because it learned how to bleed at a young age
    when it is hungry I feed it with shaking hands.

    He doesn’t notice her suspicion that his laughter is cruel and mocking. His heart is too full of kindness and joy still to be so unkind to a stranger. Perhaps time will earn him a calloused heart, but for today he is too busy watching her as she shakes her body, sending speckles of blood on the ground like some terrifying rainstorm. It isn’t enough blood for alarm, of course, but Malone briefly widens his eyes at the sight on the ground before meeting her gaze once more. If she isn’t concerned with it, he supposes he isn’t either.

    The boy awkwardly tongues the corner of his lip that tastes like copper as she commands him to be still. Malone freezes, tip of his pink tongue still lingering there over a scrape as only his eyes move to watch her work. His tiny muscles tense as he fears she means to kiss him when she leans in but he still obeys her despite the threat of cooties. But it is only her nose meeting his face in a gentle touch as he eyes close. This wasn’t kissing, right? He blinks slowly as he feels the wound beneath his tongue close up suddenly, as do the other knocks across his handsome face.

    She’s a god damn magician.

    Starsin had told him bedtime stories of powerful beings with the ability to make their wildest dreams come true. He never imagined he would meet one, though. The boy parts his lips to say his thanks only for her to sneeze directly into his mouth. Malone briefly cringes and feels his face contort into a grimace as she sneezes again shortly after. This time, however, the it is directed toward the ground. Still, he definitely has cooties now.

    Th-thank you for healing me,” he stutters as he tries to brush his thoughts away in favor of more cheerful ones. “Were you born a magician or did you become one?

    The look of unease from before is abandoned entirely as his eyes grow wide with sudden wonder. The gold and black of his eyes focus entirely on her, as though the world beyond them has ceased to matter at all for the time being.
    m a l o n e
    @[Morgayne]
    #7

    Morgayne

    “Sorry.” Lisps Morgayne as she sneezes again and it is the first time she’s ever apologized for anything. She frowns because she isn’t sure if it is the right thing to say. It is not like she sneezed on purpose. That seems to be the very extent of her manners because when Malone thanks her for putting him right again she just cocks her head a bit and stares at him.  There is still blood on his face. What will his mother think of that? Will she care? No one will care that Morgayne is smeared with blood, not her mother or her half brothers. She herself doesn’t care but she has a scientific mind. As curious as she is confused by present and caring mothers, the existence of fathers, and the strange kindness of a boy called Malone.

    “I’m not a.. I don’t think I’m a magician.” The girl amends, bending her neck to look at herself as best she can as if there is something written on her skin that she hasn’t noticed before. Finding nothing but pink, black, and blood her large eyes return to him. She is missing information. “What is a magician?” Malone knows a lot of words that she does not, and it would frustrate her except that they golden eyed boy has given her just enough kindness to trust in, at least for now. Also he seems in awe, excited about whatever he is talking about. “Does it fix things.. Heal?” His parents must teach him the words, is that something parents do?

    Why is he looking at her like that?

    “Um… What can you do, Malone?

    She isn’t uncomfortable, just stuck, not sure what she is meant to do next but maybe she should stop trying to guess at what people are supposed to do. Malone seems like he’ll talk to her even if she doesn’t know how to be. Morgayne tries another smile around her fangs, black ears alert.

    when they finally come, what'll you do to them
    gonna decimate them like you did to me?
    will you leave them stunned and stuttering



    @[Malone]




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