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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]  the voices of the dead
    #2
    幻想
    Ereshkigal
    For most, the coming of dawn was like the promise of adventure, a day to do new things and meet new faces. For Ereshkigal though, dawn was akin to a trumpet of death, a light that shone only on the plain and uneventful world. It did not bring her joy, nor did it give her any hopes of new encounters. Dawn meant she had to wake up, she had to leave her dreams behind and suffer through reality, it meant she had to deal with other living beings who talked too much and had too much free thought; whereas she would rather stay in her dreams where everything went according to her own plans, and no one spoke to her unless she so desired.

    Try as she may, Ereshkigal could not fall back asleep, even with the warmth of her mother's side, the sun still rose to spite her and she could no longer cover herself from its annoying presence. Steadily and swiftly, she collected herself and stood, she had already learned much grace from her mother, and was expected to carry herself elegantly, lest she sully the appearance of her mother and herself in one uncalculated step. Quietly and calmly, she made her way down to the playground, hoping for something exciting - though her expectations were low to say the least. The morning dew still clung to her small, delicate wings, creating the illusion that perhaps they were more whimsical than they actually were in their current state, having just been born a day or so prior to the quiet morning.

    As she pushed her way through a few small bushes, she paused to observe the space before her; and, as she had expected, it was rather dull. In her dreams, the skies were made of wonderful purples and the ground itself of clouds and stars, or sometimes the sky was lit with fire as she stood atop a mountain of those who were weak in will. Here though, here in reality, things were so plain. The grass was just grass, the sky was the pale hue of morning, and the only thing that glimmered were the dew drops on the foliage and the scattered ponds in the distance. The others who played here also seemed plain, glancing only for a moment at a darker figure in the distance. The small filly let out a disappointed sigh, closing her eyes to relieve herself of the sight of the uncreative world around her which lacked the magic she so desired.
    You're like therapy with no solution 催眠 You're a remedy that's useless チョウ

    @[Iris]
    [Image: giphy.gif]
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    Messages In This Thread
    the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-02-2020, 02:51 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 09-02-2020, 04:15 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-07-2020, 02:39 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 09-24-2020, 11:07 AM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-28-2020, 01:43 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 10-03-2020, 11:43 AM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 10-16-2020, 11:52 AM



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