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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


    If a thought was the truth; Maugrim, any
    #1

    N y x a

    When she wakes, the gist of their last moment together has been wiped clean. Nyxa remembers the backwards tug of Maugrim’s water-fist, she can recall that he’d been amused … nothing more. How long has she been out?

    Her tongue moves; curves up to press against the roof of her mouth where it can discern grit and muck. There’s the comforting hardness of something beneath her, (maybe the earth?) and with her eyes still clamped shut against reality, Nyxa moves her head slowly. It’s sand that cradles her body - she’d know the sensation of it anywhere. Sand and water, her two great loves and now, her prison.

    With a broken heart she blinks away the darkness.

    God it’s beautiful down here. So quiet and warm. The underbelly of curious fish give movement to the otherwise still sea, a glint of light here and there striking brilliantly off their scales as they flash and flit about. Motionless and prostrate on her side Nyxa tries to sing to them but her voice can’t seem to rise to the occasion; her throat hurts like hell. So they swim away.

    The clarity and familiarity of this particular patch of ocean doesn’t begin to sink in until she raises her sore neck to take a look around. Before her, the blue expanse stretches on into darkness; behind her, the sharp incline of a reef crest rises like a natural wall to ring an island. “I know this place,” She thinks, hardly willing to believe it but her heart thumps wildly in response, “he didn’t know.”

    The pink of the coral is the sweetest color to her right now, and there! Just there a lazy brown shark glides from the shadows, his dark pattern of brown rings a twin to the rough patches of skin Nyxa sports on each of her points. She knows that if she were to top that foreboding wall, there’d be a flat shelf with the dangerous reef waiting. Past those would be the lagoon (her lagoon) and then the waiting shore … and Hod.

    “Hod,” She croaks, and then she screams, “Maugrim!” because she knows he’s somewhere lurking. 

    He didn’t kill her, (though he should’ve) and now she wants answers.

    Every kiss is a door, Can I knock on yours?



    @[Maugrim] I combined the closing with the opening, hope that's alright!
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    If a thought was the truth; Maugrim, any - by Nyxa - 12-29-2017, 03:40 PM



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