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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


    Like a Thorn to the Holy Ones (Reagan)
    #2
    Reagan
    I want you to know that I'm all yours; you and me, we're the same force.

    She smiles - of course he would come seeking her.

    Why wouldn't she?

    She was a queen in her own right, a magician for more than she could put a number to, and of lste, a Tephra resident. His presence was felt in the land of the Volcano, even though it has been years since he'd stepped foot in there. The look of seriousness was in his eyes, though she knew that looks could be deceiving with Nymphetamine.

    The necromancer who did not relish in death.

    At least, not like so many others with his abilities did.

    She smiles, stepping out of shadow, not bothering to disguise herself, as he was wont to do these days. What good would it have done? She was bathing in Offspring's scent, fresh from their fight - the one where he had told her to forget about him and move on. And of course, she goes back to her trees.

    And who should she meet here? One of her former lover's best friends. Former, current. She never bothered to keep track any longer. She and Offspring simply were, whether or not he wanted to admit it to himself.

    However - the irony did not phase her in the least. Nothing ever did anymore. She knew that if she attempted any designs on Nymphetamine, she'd have to hear about it for the rest of her life. Sigh.

    She draws closer to him, the warmth of his greeting - so informal, that - washing over her like whiskey. Maybe he did not know? Oh well.

    "Good Afternoon Nymph. I had heard rumor that you had returned to this part of the world. What do I owe the pleasure of your rather remarkable company?"

    She has a smile on her face that is a little less than genuine - while she is glad to see him, his presence reminds her of Offspring... someone she was positively tired of thinking about.

    Maybe the black pyromaniac was right - maybe she did need to try and move on.

    Maybe Nymph... Maybe. He was very handsome.

    Reagan tilted her head, Offspring's angry face in her mind. She smiles for real this time - maybe she deserved a little happiness after all. And maybe the black stallion needed a little punishment.

    Not too much though. No harm comes from simply talking.

    Though that's what she said when she met Offspring that night by the River.

    Whooboy.

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    RE: Like a Thorn to the Holy Ones (Reagan) - by Reagan - 12-18-2017, 12:42 AM



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