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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


    [mature]  I tried to sell my soul last night; Tahti
    #9

    I tried to sell my soul last night
    Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite

    She’d been a damn sight luckier than him apparently. His only teacher had been experience. And let me tell you, experience is a fucking bitch. A massive, cold-hearted bitch. But the hell if he was rehashing ancient history with her. There’s a reason he never mentions it. Fucking dead and gone, ain’t no use resurrecting it now. If that’s a story she ever wanted to hear, it sure as shit wasn’t gonna be from him.

    “Fuck your pity,” he tosses over his shoulder when he turns away. He didn’t want her goddamned pity. Who the fuck did she think he is anyway? Some damned girl?

    Ducking under the water, he flaps his wings, stirring waves in the murky water as he washes the mud from his skin. When he emerges, he shakes his head to clear the water from his eyes, grinning like a heathen. Fucking pristine. Look at that glorious white. Screw her and her half-assed mud pie insults.

    His dark eyes shift to consider her with mild amusement (an abrupt shift from his previous vexation) as she leaps in beside him. He settles back into the water, relaxing his weight into the buoyancy of the water. He ignores the snarky jab at his lack of mother. That had stopped bothering him a long-ass time ago. Her decade estimate was fucking laughable too. Try a goddamned century kid.

    He narrows his eyes on her when she asks his name. The fuck she want his name for anyway? Cuz yeah, that’d really help her avoid him. He’s a fucking sticker burr. If he wanted to hang around she’d never shake him. Of course, at this point, he’s not entirely sure he shouldn’t just shake her now. Then she’d never have to see him again.

    What the hell did it matter anyway though. With a shrug, he shifts in the water, moving towards the shore once more. “It’s Ashhal,” he offers offhandedly as he steps onto the bank, bracing himself as he shakes water violently from his pale flesh.

    He doesn’t ask her name. Maybe she’d tell him, maybe she wouldn’t. Honestly he didn’t give a shit. He’s perfectly happy to keep calling her kid.

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    RE: I tried to sell my soul last night; Tahti - by Ashhal - 10-24-2018, 01:29 PM



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