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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


    Leave some morphine at my door - Spyndle cont from B2G
    #1

    there's no religion that could save me

    no matter how long my knees are on the floor

    i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding

    if that'll make it right

    There is nothing remarkable about her, save for the fact that she is unremarkable. The souls of Beqanna do not often grow dull like this, they do not lay dormant in a web of their own pain and suffering. This he knows; he knows that the horses around him strive for betterness, not for existence. He knows that when they fail it is either to be destroyed or to rise higher, not simply float in between the two. He knows that she is an anomaly, one which stands as still as the stars, but does not glimmer like them.

    When he approaches, it is not because of these things. It is because of her smell (a scent made up of fire and stars and precious metals and rivers flowing with magic). It is because he smells the other woman on her, however anciently. It is because his glowing blue eyes see the shadow of a soul resting beside her, because he senses that although apart, the two pieces he has now found will eternally be together. He approaches not because she screams broken, but because he knows whom her broken pieces lay with.

    "You give cause to wonder of what went on between you two." His voice rings quietly towards her, small compared to his tall stature, calm compared to the chaos of his abilities. "She said she was of nothingness, but I smell her on you." He steps closer, breathing in the other woman's faint scent, digging himself further into the mystery he has found.

    He stops only a step from her, one bark-lined leg outstretched towards her. A tension grows between them, but Nihlus makes no move to break it. The yearling absorbs the emptiness which crawls in swarms from the woman's aura, eyes the way she lives in her mind but not in reality. "I know her name..." He breathes softly, watching the way her lips tremble with each breath, listening to the sound of her heart beat. "But what of yours?" Steam curls from his gentle lips, dancing between them, a veil of silver beneath the blackness and the stars of the night they meet within. "I'm Nihlus, should you wish to know. But I suppose I am nothing to you, because I am not the one I smell on your skin."
    Nihlus
    rain manipulating son of Sinder & Noori
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