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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


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    the sun in my eyes burns like her; djinni/any
    #1

    if all this falls apart, he will never know what you are

     Oops.

    Unknowingly, as their world was accelerating towards disaster and disease, Djinni and Walter made a kid.

    He’s sandwiched between them now as they wander through new territory, his red nose alternating between sniffing the sky and the earth, a curious creature already despite his newness. So curious, in fact, that he trips on a rock while trying to smell an early flower poking up through the late winter ground. Walter has been bemusedly watching his son out of the corner of one honey-brown eye and catches the boy’s chest with his muzzle just before he crashes into the ground. Catastrophe averted. Well, this catastrophe anyway. This one he can manage. “Easy does it Cor,” he chides gently, looking over his back to catch Djinni’s gaze with raised brows as if to say, what have we got ourselves into with this one?

    Their autumnal dress has long since been shed, but it appears to have cloaked the colt in a constant reminder of what they’d done. Unknowingly. Well, kind of. The genie had been downright luminous and in her element in Sylva. Once she’d shown him the bluebells and made the forest come alive (and once they lost the pesky interloper), it had all been over. He couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t let any distance come between their sun-bleached skin. He relished being able to touch her all he wanted to, finally, with no bars between them built by him alone.

    He certainly enjoyed his tour of the kingdom that made her a queen.

    Now though, the little family is stranded in a place they know nothing about. It is safe, at least, or it’s what they’d picked up on. Safer than almost anywhere else, safer than Nerine, where their daughter is stranded, alone. Guilt claws at Walter for that one; it had been his decision to go on their spontaneous trip, after all. Is Rivka sick and dying back on the sea-soaked shores of the Leviathans?

    “Mamma?” The palomino looks over to see Cor watching his mother expectantly. The kid looks tired, so he pulls up, moves closer to both of them. There’s no reason to be moving fast towards anything, he supposes – there’s nowhere safe to go besides. But the urge to outrun this sickness is hard to resist. All he wants to do is keep his family safe. This is not a world he would ever have wanted to bring a child into. “I love you,” he says, to the both of them. Then to Djinni, once Cor has curled up at her feet, “what are we going to do?”





    and he will never know why the sun in my eyes burns like her





    @[Djinni]
    #2
    The genie blinks open dark eyes, and for a moment her pupils are whirling golden vortices, impossibly mobile and like nothing more than black holes, drawing in everything near. But then she blinks and they are just brown. A darker hue than usual, but still a soft and natural shade. She smiles, the expression tugging at the edges of her rosey mouth, and presses a soft and reassuring touch to the boy curled at her feet.  

    “We’re safe here.” She replies, “and it feels peaceful.” This last observation is partially hope and partially magic, and Djinni turns to look out at the rolling pampas that spreads before them. A few horses graze here and there, evidence that the land is claimed but apparently not stricken with violence the way one might expect of Sylva. Thinking of the forest, the djinn glances in the opposite direction, finding the fiery forest along the horizon with little difficulty. The geography might have changed, but some things remain the same.

    “Did you want to remain in Nerine?” Djinni asks softly, glancing up at the golden stallion with questioning eyes. “Rivka did, but I didn’t ask you. I thought you’d want to be safe with the baby and I.” Cor had just been ‘the baby’ then, a nameless roundness of her barrel. He’d been a surprise, the result of her distraction and their amorous affection. But as soon as she’d laid eyes on him she’d felt that same surge of emotion, that ache of responsibility and adoration.

    “This seemed a better haven than the frozen island up north,” The dun mare adds with a smile, “And I'd never been a fan of the tropics.” There is a reason she'd not been an Amazon; Djinni has had enough of endless heat to last her six hundred more lifetimes.
    D J I N N I
    genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster




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