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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


    Homecoming. Reilly, Badden.
    #1

    Lacey

    She'd entrusted her babies to their father. She just hadn't had the heart to deny Reilly when he was so earnest, wanting so deeply to take her to his homeland to have a bit of real fun. His sea blue-green eyes had been dancing that way they do, you know, just for her, with so many promises in them. So they'd gathered up little Baddie since Reilly was the only father he knew, and she was the only mother he knew, and away they went to a land of green.

    More than a time or two, that crazy Irishman made her blush furiously, shake her head at him in exasperation. The fool had gone and gotten a temporary wing-man, backing Reilly with some music as he serenaded her with bawdy, silly Irish songs. And some a bit less bawdy, a bit less silly. Ones that made her blush again and turn her face away in shame and guilt. She didn't deserve those kinds of songs, why couldn't he just accept that. She could never be good enough for any of that. And so it stung, though she knew he meant well. Reilly always meant well, wanted the best for her.

    He deserved so much better.

    Every time she shut down, he gave her space again, though she suspected it hurt him to. He was learning more and more how to deal with her wild temper, and honestly it pissed her off. Reilly was so perfect. So dedicated to doing absolutely anything he had to in order to win a smile from her, no matter how fleeting. So determined to find that fire that used to be buried in haughty brown eyes. And yet still she couldn't seem to let go, couldn't seem to forget. She couldn't seem to heal. Fully recover. Maybe she never would.

    There were times when she'd be lost in her thoughts, a thing she wasn't normally prone to do by nature. She'd think of Kir, and hate him more and more. The hate never did make anything better. It infuriated her, made her cry angry, bitter tears, but never where Reilly could see her. Sometimes she would think of Woolf, though she'd only met him so briefly. He could've fixed her, could've erased the memories that broke her, erase the man that broke her. But she'd turned that down, probably because she was a complete idiot. Besides, she wasn't entirely certain he actually would do it. She'd never know now.

    And sometimes she'd think of Sabrael, wonder where he'd disappeared to this time. He seemed to have many adventures, so much freedom. She doubted he'd ever return. Probably off somewhere far away with his own family by now. Those thoughts made her look at the baby boy curled up with her, adopted in to a loving, yet perhaps strange, family. Two dads and a mom, and nobody quite with anyone as a mother and father typically were. And two sisters and a big brother. No freedom, here. Not for her. She stayed where she was needed, or where she pretended she was needed. She was a terrible mother, but she hadn't had a mother of her own, so she did try not to completely muck it up. She just sort of failed, as usual.

    Now they were returning and she couldn't wait to see her babies. She hoped they'd want to see her too, but she wouldn't hold her breath on that. Kharon probably would, though. He had always been so careful around her, but always wanted her happiness. A sweet boy, however a silver-tongued girl like her managed that.

    The moment they get there though, everything looks... different somehow. Delicate brows pulled together as she turned to look at Reilly for his reaction. Could he tell, too? She sure as hell wasn't looking at him like other girls might, waiting for the man to take the lead and make all the decisions for them. Hell, no. She only wanted to see if he had noticed it too. Then she was marching right in with a scowl and the sun beating down on her scar-laced hips, casting her dull brown eyes around for her children and that jerk of a father she wished she hated more than she actually hated. And he was a jerk for that too.

    "KIR!!" He better get his ass over here and explain this before she found away to kill a guy made of iron. She glanced around her for Baddie, making sure she hadn't lost him so quickly. She was a terrible mother, you know. Oh good. Still here. Ugh, what was that stench though! Her nose scrunched and she turned to Reilly again. "Is that... Does that smell like a damn locker room full of men to you??" Oh god, that was disgusting.



    I hate homecoming posts :| tag you're it, ily
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