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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


    Under the old oak tree [Mirage/Any]
    #9

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there...
    dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before...
    Loving with a love that was more than love
    - Edgar Allen Poe
    Hestia always hated the mind readers. They could see everything, and yet they understood nothing. Some would roll their eyes thinking the reflections as self-pity, or worthless ramblings. They couldn’t know how lost an immortal can feel when some dear old friend approaches and she can’t recognize them. The pain that she watches as another name slips away dissolving into oblivion. How fearful she is that her mind will disintegrate before her body. For sanities sake, she chooses to remember; often losing herself to the memories, reminding herself that she survives for the names that she can’t recall. How she remembers so that she doesn’t forget.

    He surprises her again, well for once she doesn’t need to feel guilty. And can have no shame, as he is no babe in a cradle. She stands there next to him cocooned behind a shield that buffers them from the spiteful world outside. The world where she would be looking, wondering what monster is going to jump from the shadows. The rain thrumming a steady rhythm soothing in its own way. His body brushes hers, and she can’t help the delicious shudder from warmth, and… He doesn’t feel so tense now; lingering thoughts speculate on how he feels about this situation they’ve been shoved into. Could he be just as stressed as she was on first entering the cave? He quells the thoughts as the questions begin pouring out.

    Her ears perk, and her neck swivels in delight at his recognition of Starlace. Watching the Amazons and Chamber work together under Anarchist and Starlace was… she trails off remembering the mocks, meetings, and battles as Chamber and Amazonians worked side by side. Her blood comes alive, pulsing through her body, out of all the things she has forgotten, the dreadful awe-inspiring sight of those two rulers smiling, plotting, and working together would forever be etched in her mind. Those were the glory days. Wistfully her voice drifts; the day they greeted each other was the day that I truly devoted myself to the sisterhood. Even if I wasn’t living with the sisters that the time. her smile is large, open, and genuine when he says that he was up to childish antics at the time. It was a time when they could be childish. Maybe she is making it up in her mind, but she feels a connection to him lingering in this moment.

    It blows away like smoke does when their conversation drifts to other things, though like smoke it’s residue seems to have clung to her. Maybe it’s the safety of their little cave, maybe it’s the time trip they’ve explored prying into life stories that otherwise would remain locked. Maybe she has let herself become to lonely in this new world. Whatever the reason, she finds herself able to relax into him. It’s then that those thoughts of what he must be experiencing rise again. He can’t escape her, she can’t escape him; in a way she feels scraped raw. Things that have been buried deep secretly kept away from others is pulled out of her here. She’s sluffed away things that have long been rotting away her insides. Washed clean and maybe a little sensitive, for a moment she wonders if this could be considered betraying her mate? But once more her thoughts echo his, how much longer can she search? Even if she does find him, she wonders if she would ever be able to forgive him. He left their young, he abandoned them; and that infuriates her enough that Hestia doesn’t think she could ever find the capacity to forgive him.

    Walter is large, he has wings, he’s even a bit friendly, (if she is willing to admit that to herself). Why not just indulge? They can pretend and imagine it’s the perfect world of their ‘as-close-to-fairytale youth’ as one could possibly hope for. With their soulmates, and queens who love their kingdoms with an unquenchable fire. At his words she closes her eyes allowing herself to become lost in their make-believe shell. Her heart takes the moment, using it as a balm. When the thunder cracks she can’t help but back away from it a step or two, and closer to him. Neither would I, she leans into him, her neck under his listening to the storm raging outside.

    Nothing seems as if it will breach this, their moment, their world; it’s theirs and no matter what happens. At least she can say she isn’t alone anymore. Thank you Walter, so much that was important in life had been forgotten or frozen out in her hope of a someday. She knows she needs to face that, that someday had already come and gone. For now, though, Walter is her someday, and that is something she can live with.
    Hestia
    ©Photo by Stanislav Istratov

    @[Walter]
    [Image: 345k45w.jpg]


    Messages In This Thread
    Under the old oak tree [Mirage/Any] - by Hestia - 11-19-2017, 04:34 AM
    RE: Under the old oak tree [Mirage/Any] - by Hestia - 02-10-2018, 03:14 AM



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