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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


    looking for heaven found the devil in me; any
    #3

    There were many that were born with innocence, unknowing of the world and yet to be splattered by the world of destruction. But then there were those, few, who were not given such a gift. Some were blessed beyond measure, capable of powerful entities. Gifts that could make them cross over dimensions of time and space, while others made them live in multiple different lives.

    He has been them all—born of innocence, rebirthed to create chaos, and passed through time and space.

    The memories had been suppressed for so long—living more than one life replaced the life before. A world he had known, but his soul had intertwined with another so long ago. They had become one—a warrior and a boy who was greedy for the betterment of life so early. Together they had perfectly fit, a puzzle piece finally finishing the master piece.

    It was her dreams that had awaken him. Dreams that he had not dreamt in so long. When you are dead there is nothing to dream about. There is no hope for the dead, no love. There is only loss.

    Rodrik snaps away from his thoughts, hollowed eyes turning to face the classic champagne boy. It is the smell, faint but still fresh, that draws him to even consider the boy. There is something familiar, something that already warms up his ever cold-stone heart. Kagerus, he thinks. But he wonders why. Why did she not say?

    He tosses the question aside.

    “You are quite observant aren’t you,” he says taking a step closer to the boy. A devilish smirk crosses his face as he peers at the boy. Rodrik’s eyes carefully look over him, he feels the darkness within him. It begs to search the obvious glow of the boy’s soul—to learn, to know, to understand. He, however, keeps himself at bay from doing so. Not just yet, he tells himself.

    Rodrik licks his chapped lips, the faintest of salt is tasted on the tip of his lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your mother, boy?” Condescending words fall from his tongue, he cannot help himself. There is something familiar in the way the boy is (something he might once had been).
    character info: here | character reference: here | image © rostyslav zagornov

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    RE: looking for heaven found the devil in me; any - by Rodrik - 05-27-2018, 10:19 AM



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