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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


    I wantingly longed for your touch; Ivar
    #12

    And inside you're burning
    with some secret yearing

    Perhaps she is similar, in a way, to the lantern fish. The glow of her stars an echoing, subtle lure to draw others in, to snare them in a web of her own design. She is kinder though, less likely to leave only bones as evidence of her passing. Her desire is far more ephemeral, though perhaps just as base. She makes little effort to hide such things however. All that she is and wishes to be is there for the world to see, if only they care to look closely enough.

    She watches him, her silvery gaze softly intrigued as she admires the subtle shifts of the muted colors that swirl about his body. A story written in the very air around him, speaking of the cautious soul and hungry beast inside, eternally at war with one another.

    It would tear him apart, if he were not careful. Perhaps he need not worry about the threats outside so much as the one within.

    But that hardly concerns her. Unless, of course, she could tempt the beast to play. Someday, perhaps. Not today though, she thinks. She has always been a patient woman. With only the stars as her most loyal bedmate, she has no other choice.

    His words bring a faint smile to her lips, interest glowing in her silver gaze. She tilts her head slightly, the stars glimmering subtly against her silken blue tresses with each small movement. His offer of a glowing island is profoundly alluring, and she has never been one to resist temptation. “Should I?” she responds easily, a faint note of provocation in her gentle tone. “I have never been to Ischia,” she muses, her gaze shifting to follow the curve of the river for a moment before returning to the beautiful stallion before her. She considers him briefly, before her smile deepens impishly. “Will you show it to me?”

    Lirren



    Lmaoooo, poor Ivar :|
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    RE: I wantingly longed for your touch; Ivar - by Lirren - 12-14-2018, 10:47 AM



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