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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


    white rope marionette upon the gallow's beam; arthas
    #7
    To her relief, he doesn’t bid her farewell and casually part ways.  She had almost convinced herself that that was exactly what was about to happen when the silent seconds felt like a small eternity had slipped by. If he did just leave her there, what was she going to do then?  It’s not like she had an actual plan in coming here; wandering had just felt natural and seemed like the best choice compared to staring at her sad reflection all day.

    Just when she thought she had lost the only lead she had found, he talks.  And it is the most beautiful and most wildly unexpected, practically unbelievable things she had ever heard. “A queen? Lovers? You died?” she parrots back at him, her spotted face scrunching into a very open show of disbelief.  That didn’t sound like her at all, at least, not the ‘her’ she knew now.  She can’t remember anything, but she’s almost certain that stranger things might be possible in this place though.  Maybe.

    So lost in thought, she’s only mildly aware that he is trying to step closer again, reaching and seeking for some friendly sign reciprocation.  She doesn’t return the gesture, be it shock or unease or whatever, but she doesn’t move away either and merely regards his movements cautiously with quiet, dark eyes.  “I’ll stay with you,” she starts, her head rising to reach his gaze, but quickly adds, “so long as you keep helping me fill in the gaps.”

    By rights of politeness, she should ask him how he died and how he had been faring since his apparent rebirth. If they were nearly lovers and had been friends at the least, then that would be the right thing to do.  But she doesn’t.  Right now she wants nothing more than to be selfishly, irrevocably thirsty and to drink up everything he can pour about herself. “Do I have a home? Where is it? Can you take me there?”


    @[Arthas] what a baaaaad boi
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    RE: white rope marionette upon the gallow's beam; arthas - by Breckin - 11-12-2019, 08:52 AM



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