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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


    so come rain on my parade
    #1
    i don't want anything from her
    except her red apple heart.
    something i can bite into quickly
    without making a mess.
    He’s grown fearful since losing his eye. Yadigar can see the temperature of things around him, certainly, but he has never been entirely reliant on the gift before. Every flicker may as well be another set of claws coming for his face. It feels so silly to be so frightened, when usually the things in the corner of his vision are just grasses in the breeze. Still, he finds himself wandering to that burning pine with a meek wish in his heart. An aura would be nice to protect him from all sides, he thinks.

    The entities had been kind enough to grant his last wish, he reminds himself as he tries to will some semblance of confidence into himself. His small legs carry him closer and he looks up into the flames. The orange light flickers in the perfect mirror of his milky white eye. Yadigar takes a deep breath and exhales it as he steadies himself.

    Straia, if you’re listening.. if you don’t mind..” he says, still stumbling over his words until he pauses. “I know my fire will be strong like the tree you gave us, but I thought maybe I could use a little lightning to keep me safe until then?

    And then he steps closer. The memory of agony is still fresh in his mind and his legs tremble knowing what is to come. Her gifts can only be bought with blood, and his scales have already begun to mature. There are only so many ways he can draw blood from himself anymore. Yadigar takes a deep breath and then he presses his face against one of the broken branches of the tree. The scar tissue Asphyxea left him with is still bright pink and the wound reopens easily, summoning an awful shriek from him in the process. His blood spills readily down his face.

    Father always said that in order to grow strong, sacrifices would have to be made.
    YadigaR
    when i close my eyes, i'm a statue
    that she wants to run her tongue over.
    when i close my eyes, i cut it off and keep it.
    @[Straia] Yadigar is ripping open his wound in exchange for an electric aura, please!
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