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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]  I am the pattern, the plague, and the prison; islas
    #6
    You think I'll be the Dark Sky so you can be the Star?
    I'll Swallow you Whole.
    He reminds her so much of the storms he once controlled. She watches the emotions that flash across his face; the storm-clouds of irritation that threatens to give way into the thunder of fury, but never seems to. She can only imagine what he must be like when enraged – what lightning must be like when it strikes the ground released from his fist, how high the waves of the ocean must swell when he sent winds across them.

    She knows that he was magnificent, once, and that while he was still impressive in this form, she knows all too well that it is nothing like his true form.

    Because she had been brilliant as a star.
    With an untouchable light and no need for emotions, she had somehow stood out while still blending in – she had belonged, which was more than she could say for how she felt about living here.

    He does not seem impressed by Loess, but she does not feel offended by that. To her, all of the lands were roughly the same –  all too far from the stars, and none of them quite home. But her lips lift into an echo of a smile when he assumes that she is queen, and she shakes her delicate head. “No, I have not met the queen here, actually. The kingdoms here are....interesting. Most don't really rule for long.” Their years feel like moments to her, to one that would have lived millions of years in her original star-form. But they all seemed to think they were something spectacular, that they all were carving out pieces of history that no one would forget, and Islas does not care enough to tell them they are all essentially nothing.

    The universe will forget them all, her included.

    “I’m going to stay here for awhile,” she tells him, undeterred by the agitation that had flashed across his face. She knew how he felt. She also knew that he would find his place here, just like her, or forge his own way entirely. “You could stay too, if you wanted.” She pauses, her dark eyes searching his in that unreadable way of hers, “or at least come back, once you grow tired of searching every corner of this land like I've done.”
    Islas


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: I am the pattern, the plague, and the prison; islas - by Islas - 01-04-2021, 01:25 AM



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