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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


    o dark dark dark. they all go into the dark; any
    #9
    Oh look, oh my star is fading
    She is not a great anything. She devours nothing but grass, and spits out nothing but words, sweet as only children can make them. She does not understand gods; she does not even understand Carnage, the living god who had sent her reeling through strange worlds and meeting strange monsters. And she certainly does not understand the creature before her, so foreign and yet so clearly trying not to be.

    Strangeness is not merely a product of one's shape. Strange is the girl who shouldn't exist, who was created by a magician and almost disowned by her family.
    Strange is a girl with rainbow eyes whose first word was an apology for something she couldn't even name.
    Strange is a girl whose best friends are ghosts but whose world is a smile.
    Strange is a small filly and a large, beaked creature meant to hunt her, not to chat.

    Strange is the noise that it makes when she reaches out, strange but clearly not positive. She recoils immediately, concern in her eyes. She's a smart thing, and she's figured out that talking does little good – and that complex talking does even less. She settles back on her haunches, drawing away, and looks it in the eye. Her face is etched with concern. "Sorry." The voice is soft again.

    "Not. Hurt." she says, wondering if it will understand any of what she's trying to say. Unsure if her message gets through, she decides to try an alternative tactic. Being from the jungle, she's encountered some of the animals that live there, and some of the noises they make seem closer to the noises her new friend (yes, she's decided they're friends) seems to be making. Some of the birdsong has always seemed soothing to her, and she tries to replicate a delicate purring trill. But she's as poorly suited to this noise as her friend is to human speech, and so all that comes out at first is some strange breathing, as though she's trying to lift her tongue from her mouth like an airplane.

    But after a few tries she manages something between blowing a raspberry and a hum. She looks to her new friend curiously, trying to catch her (his? Its?) eye. She makes the noise again, and this time it sounds a little bit like a breathy purr. Perhaps it's not exactly the right language, but she hopes, perhaps, it's somewhat close.
    wrynn
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: o dark dark dark. they all go into the dark; any - by Wrynn - 07-01-2015, 09:21 PM



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