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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


    [open]  a new king will rise from the ashes; everyone
    #11
    kharon

    oh baby, I have not been kind

    He had warned them. After Kali let him know - as if he couldn't already hear their minds screaming at him - he made sure to inform his dads, and caution Luster not to let her children near. There had been an attack, he told her. Tiphon was down.

    Unfortunately for Cress, she was the latest one to have the last word when he joined them. He drifted from the sky in a graceful swoop, his elder-teenage figure slender and lean as he landed beside her. Cress. He'd seen her before, her kindness. He surveyed her curiously as he walked up her side, confused at how she could be so wrong, so mistaken when she was visiting so often. Doing so much good here. Healing the sick as the other healers did. They were lucky to have their aid.

    He smiled at her, young features handsome and devoid of malice as he met her eyes with a glittering light grey gaze. "Perhaps you missed the part where he violently attacked your friend?" he asked gently. He looked over to the pool of blood pointedly, large and staining the once-peaceful safe haven, then met her eyes again with a shade of sadness. Mother had known him from when he'd led Ischia, had trusted and cared for him. "That's Tiphon's blood. Do you think he chose to be half eaten?"

    He circled across in front of her to her other side, swinging his hips to stand beside her. After a short breath, he leaned in again, speaking conspiratorially as if she were a long-time friend. Nearly everyone was to him, so naturally carefree and friendly when their home wasn't once again being forcefully taken over. "I know you came after Tiphon arrived, so you wouldn't know this part."

    He paused and leaned back a little, watching to make sure she was alright, understanding the history he was sharing with her. Still smiling kindly, he continued. "We came from Ischia. Where Tiphon used to lead before my fathers did. That's where Mom knows him from," he nodded in a gesture at Wallace, his frigid mother covered helplessly in frost. She'd never had magic and hadn't grasped control of this sudden new one yet; he knew it frustrated her to no end. "The moment the lands parted and the plague spread, my family was here. From the very start. We did not claim the land, because we felt, like you, that it is a sanctuary."

    He shrugged, his heart heavy. Normally, he'd be more livid at this, their history repeating with yet another forced takeover. Perhaps it was less worrying with everyone here at the ready. He felt at ease, safe. He sighed. "The truth is, we were glad when Tiphon found the island. After us, since that seems to matter for you?" he teased lightly. "Mother trusted him and knew him ever since she was my age. We were happy to have his leadership and guidance. He seems pretty chill, to me. Damn good-lookin' guy, too." He grinned.

    Then it faded and the hurt was back, darkening his expression as he looked outward toward the one coming with cruelty and violence, actions so far from sanctuary and safe, and those that had settled at his sides. His father, it would seem, and a lady. A pretty hot one, too, just saying. Like Cress, he was also sad that it had come to this. That someone would just come in and attack Tiphon, a damn amazing angel looking after the people like no one else. A good man. He'd done so much for all of them, and now this? He didn't deserve this treatment. And none of the residents should have to answer for it either. What an upsetting mess.

    With another sigh, he let his voice ring out clearly to all present. "I support my mother's claim. If Tiphon will not lead us then she will follow in Ea's steps. This never should have happened. We've suffered a takeover once before, and this time we won't be leaving and giving it over without a fight. I'm sorry. It's a shame you force us to this." He echoed his mother's thoughts, hoping for once he was a good son to her. He is helpless here, defenseless. All he has is his voice, but he would use it.

    He was glad that his sharp edges and suspicion haven't clung to him this time. Maybe it would stay that way. Maybe he could be himself again.

    I wish I could scrape away the dirt that's on my mind



    @[Reilly]
    Quotes are speech. Italics are telepathy
    Reply
    #12
    BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
    OF MOVING ON
    Tiphon has since hung back and waited for his wounds to mend. Magic twists into his veins and seeps into his muscles. By the time the herdland rallies, his cuts have stitched themselves together and he joins them as one piece, no longer battered and defeated.

    Initially, he anticipated them to stand behind him as he has been their leader, but they do not.
    Instead, they speak poorly of him – if he does not have the balls to lead them? Really? – and grope for the power that has already been obtained. It isn’t free for the taking as they seem to assume. Suddenly, the members surge from the shadows as the cacophonous yells penetrate the salty air. Agitation blooms within his chest as he emerges from the palms to finally join them after having heard enough of their ramble. His eyes immediately dart to Wallace with disdain. ”You,” he snaps as the space closes between them, ”You said in our last discussion that you and your family have no intention to stay here - that Ischia is where you belong, not here. So go, Wallace. You’ve forfeited. You spoke for yourself and your entire family. You planned to leave me alone on this island because last I checked,” and his eyes scrape roughly across the faces now, ”this was MY island. MY sanctuary that I laid claim to and allowed you to live within.” He is snarling now, a look of brutish rage that hasn’t painted his face in decades.

    Suddenly, they are opposing him.
    Now, they’ve lost their respect in his eyes.

    ”Additionally,” he licks his lips in a pseudo-thought, acting as though he has to reflect back when in fact the memory is at the forefront of his mind, burning, ”when I called for the entire herd – a damn meeting – NONE of you showed, except for Cress. Not a damned one, so don’t even try to lay a claim on what has been mine when you’ve all had minimal interest.” And much to his appreciation and relief, at least Cress stands behind him when everyone else stunted him, suddenly saw him as inept when they’ve done nothing for the island.

    Tiphon decidedly takes at place alongside Castile as well, noting the arrival of his father, Lior, and the young woman with the iridescent blaze. ”This island, I claimed. This island, I decided to make a sanctuary. This island, I allowed you all to remain. If you don’t like the changes, then you may leave just as Wallace planned to do. Expedite your plan, Wallace. Do as you said and take your family back to Ischia if this is how it’s going to be.” His molten eyes glance first to Castile then to Cress then to the lavender family. ”He has agreed to keep this as a sanctuary. He has not kicked anyone out. He has not changed anything and yet it’s you all that are calling him a brute and wanting to attack. He’s done nothing except won the Resort.” When his head shakes in disappointment – both in himself and Wallace’s clan (and the random phoenix that doesn’t even live here) – his gilded locks dance like silk against a porcelain backdrop. ”This will remain a sanctuary. If he does anything to change that, to endanger this island, then we can revisit dethroning him. Island Resort is his, for now.”


    TIPHON
    STARLACE AND INFECTION
    Reply
    #13
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Even in the face of opposition, Castile does not flinch. His mismatched eyes roll curiously across the faces as they emerge from the shadows like cockroaches. ”Always an amusing thing to see,” their scents, though present, were fading on the breeze and replaced by the recent congregational party. In a clear display of disinterest, he yawns, but his expression brightens substantially upon seeing his father take his side. ”Thanks for taking my invite,” he drawls with a lopsided grin, savoring the simple fact their family is coming together again, just as it had been during their time in Nerine.

    But alas, the happiness and relief of reuniting is forced aside to address the more pressing matters.

    He, admittedly, is shocked to see Tiphon healed and stepping to join him. A sudden change of diplomacy is worth scrutinizing, but he assumes it’s attributed to how quickly the lavender family jumped ship to claim the island for themselves versus standing behind the man that had willingly provided them a home when Ischia couldn’t be their resting place any longer. Plus, the angel claims they are kin. With these interesting circumstances, he finds his surprise quickly dissipating.

    Castile has spoken minimally, but has closely listened and noted a number of things. He is prepared to fight, if necessary, but his preference is for everything to settle down. As a shrug ripples through his shoulders, he can’t help but sideways remarks, ”It doesn’t seem like much of a takeover based on how absent and unhelpful you’ve been here.” A throaty chuckle escapes him, a raw and unexpected noise admit the tension. ”As as aforementioned, I’ve not kicked anyone out, but it seems like Tiphon has.” He looks over to Cress, one of the few that take a stance of reason versus aggression. ”I’ll continue this as a sanctuary. It’ll remain a place for families. That has not, and will not, change.” It had been his intention to take this from Tiphon’s hands, but his further plans were peaceful. Those that considered this home would remain welcome to stay, but he’s questioning it now with the mistrust and mutinous ways of the lavender family – and again, random phoenix girl whose scent is just as faint – because if they are so quick to turn on Tiphon and grope for his crown, then what would stop them from trying again?

    With a quick glance to the angel, he mutters, ”Quite the group you have here,” but the statement is responded with a disapproving grunt and frown. Flickering his stern gaze to the warmongering group, he simply asks, ”Who is the head of your family? Little dragon girl or… Wallace?” He captured her name during the rage spewing from Tiphon’s mouth. Interesting. All of this is so interesting. With a continued effort to elude aggression, he asks, ”I’d like to chat with the head of your family.” He can feel Sochi’s eyes on him, but he spares her hardly a glance until Reia scrambles out and joins them. Quietly, he observes their daughter as she takes to her mother. With one of his own children here, he still pressures and pushes for a quieter conclusion but is prepared to escalate things for her own safety.


    castile
    Reply
    #14
    He had heard the commotion, of course. It had been loud, the screams of pain wrenching. He had thought this island safe, protected. He had brought his family here for that reason. But now fear curls thin tendrils along his heart. That fear brings with it something else, determination, fierce protectiveness. His family is all that matters to him.

    He tells Ilka to stay safe, whispering his love into her skin. He brushes his lips gently across his youngest daughters forehead, leaving her with her mother. Whatever had brought this, he would always ensure their safety first and foremost.

    He is quiet in his approach, wary and watchful. He sees Luster first, and instinct tells him to place himself between her and whatever danger might lurk. And as he watches, listening quietly, the situation grows ever more clear.

    Tiphon had been attacked, injured by this interloper. A beast that could harm Tiphon is not one to be taken lightly. Shah had known the man a very long time, had always held great respect for him. He had been happy to live beneath the safety of his protection, in this sanctuary they had all created. That someone now threatens that is troublesome.

    But when Tiphon emerges from the trees, his eyes glowing furiously as he spits venom at his subjects, he is genuinely shocked. This is not the man he knows. Not the man he remembers. And as the image of a once great man shatters before him, Shah understands this situation could not stand.

    So he emerges from the shadows, no longer a silent observer, but a determined voice of reason. He is disappointed, but his family has made this island a home. Too many times they have been displaced. Too many times they have had to flee to safety. This dragon, with his vicious attack and hunger for power at any cost, does not feel safe. And that Tiphon would call this island his to do as he wishes, would insult it's peaceable people so, shows he is no longer the man Shah once knew.

    “You call this island yours Tiphon, but a leader is not his land. A leader is his people. And that a leader would speak so poorly of his tells me he is no longer a true leader.” His words are heavily spoken, saddened, as he steps forward, subtly placing himself between his daughter and the dragon. “This island is meant to be a sanctuary, welcoming to any who might need it, regardless of their reasons or their past. That is why I brought my family here. And yet, you expect us to happily accept a new leader who would force himself upon us with violence and aggression? The very opposite of what this island is supposed to offer?”

    His eyes are solemn as he considers their former leader, his regretful disillusion clear. After a moment he turns his heavy gaze to the usurper, shadows unconsciously curling tight around his chest and neck, as though he might need their protection. “You claim you wish to keep this island a sanctuary, and yet your actions belie your words. So tell me dragon, why should we believe you? What can you offer as proof to substantiate your claim of benevolence?” He pauses then, peering at the dragon as though he could read the answers he sought in his face. As though those questions could be so easily answered. “Why should we trust you over someone who as lived here peacefully since this island rose from the ocean?”
    All things are possible,
    shahrizai
    even the best of things.
    Reply
    #15
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Another stallion joins the masses, but he doesn’t bare his teeth or even shout as the others have. Castile anticipated it, expected yet another barrage of foul breath and words to pummel him, but it doesn’t. In fact, he more or less addresses Tiphon first. A single brow quirks at this and his lips purse tightly shut. The scorn burns into Tiphon because he has never been perceived as a poor leader. Decades past, he had been fair and kind and welcoming. Wrong him, however, and that awakens something far deeper within him that few have witnessed. Castile observes quietly before speaking up, his voice level. ”How would you react if the ones you were considering a herd family turned against you, spoke poorly of you, and grabbed at power when you’ve been nothing but kind and willing?” It’s a simple question, really, and clues that he obtained through the context and between the lines.

    But just as swiftly as the topic was on Tiphon, it reverses back to Castile. He has not moved, has not reacted even as one of their kin stands above them as a dragon.

    Unyielding, he has his family alongside him. Reia pounces forward eagerly, away from her mother’s side, and stretches her gaze across the strangers. Somewhere on the island is his son, and as this predicament continues to unfurl, he cannot help to increasingly grow concerned for Gilt’s safety. His ears swivel attentively, but his eyes hardly stray now from the blue roan male. A lopsided grin flickers across the sharp ridges of his face, softening it for a heartbeat. ”Well, for one, despite being yelled at and threatened, I’ve been the one still offering a diplomatic hand. Yes, I booted Tiphon, but I’ve said, multiple times now, that things will remain the same. I’ve not kicked anyone out. I’ve not attacked anyone, and the only one I did – for the sake of leadership – is already healed. My family is here… Need I go on?” His connections would help keep the island safe as well, but he doesn’t provide that information. Instead, Castile mildly shrugs and glances at Sochi, admiring how readily she takes his side despite their brief relationship thus far.

    His heart thrums excitedly, but Reia’s face anchors him again, reminds him.

    He could repeat himself again, to ask for the family’s head and reiterate his placid intentions, but he doesn’t. His eyes just continue to calmly slip across the faces and to suppress his hunting instincts.



    castile




    Just because I want this resolved and not dragging on for weeks waiting for every single person
    Reply
    #16

    She is stunned by how quickly things seem to unravel in such few, short moments, only has time to examine these new faces as bodies settle on either side of a very firm line drawn between these two groups. It is confusing to her, perhaps even a little overwhelming for a woman who had known first the freedom of the meadow, and then the lawlessness of the forests. She has never learned politics, certainly not war, but this feels like something fragile and caught in between, a moment tipped at the edge of a precipice and ready to fall, ready to shatter.

    She longs to go stand with Kharon, to touch her lips to his shoulder and brush the hurt from his expression, the dark from those beautiful eyes. But there is no moment where he steps close enough, no lull where such a thing wouldn’t draw attention. So she remains quiet, silent as stone and with dark eyes that drift from face to face with the movement of their voices.

    It is Tiphon that startles her the most, though. The belief of what she thought him to be suddenly crushed by the reality of the man who tells his people to leave. “I don’t understand.” She says softly, suddenly, her brow furrowed so deep beneath the tangles of a dark forelock. The illusion of her wings ripple as surprise breaks her focus for a few, thudding beats of her heart. “I’ve been here with my family for over a year. I’ve made friends here, I’ve raised my children here, I even helped plan the recent festivities. I have made this my home, and I’m not the only one.”

    She pauses, those words still soft but with a quiet fire simmering somewhere beneath, a firmess to the gentle of her quiet heart. “This man,” and she pauses another beat, her eyes shifting from Tiphon to Castile to examine the face of this dark new stranger, note again the lazy violence in the shade of his eyes and the blood smeared around his mouth, “he is a stranger to us. It wasn’t our leader who informed us of the change, we weren’t even asked.” She tries so hard to keep her voice soft, to keep the accusation out of it because the only thing she’s fighting is for a safe place to raise her children, a home with someone she can trust. “We heard your screams, Tiphon.” It is so quietly, barely a whisper as her eyes find his face again. “How can you expect us to blindly put our faith in someone who has only shown us that he is violent?”

    She thinks of her children, of sweet Merry who would have enough sense not to cross a dragon in his wrath, of Dark who would only want to hear their stories and learn the tales of their family. She has less faith in her wild boy, her Dustov. He is a child, he is reckless and impulsive. He is her entire world, each of them are. Her love for them is limitless, as is the fierce need to protect them from anything she sees as a danger. “You have given us no reason to accept you.” She says more firmly now to the tobiano man, though her voice is still as gentle as it has always been, still soft and silver like the light glowing beneath her skin. “All you have shown us is violence and force, and that the concerns of those already living here in the sanctuary are not as important as your own needs.”

    — Luster —
    so we let our shadows fall away like dust ;
    Reply
    #17
    Roma had been along the edges of the Island. She wandered more than she should, lost amongst her thoughts and working through her own complicated knot of emotions. And while she lived here, slept here, ate here, she wasn’t really sure if this was where she was meant to be. For now though, it was home.

    So when there is commotion she comes. She watches and listens, but the entire time she is sliding closer to Kerberos and his family. A sea of familiar faces that she has known for so long. She pauses, listens to the words. But she still finds herself sliding in next to Kali, knowing her anywhere, and siding herself with the purple family she has known for so long.

    She would fight to protect them, fight to keep them safe. If that is what it came down too.



    (Sorry this is so short)
    Reply
    #18
    lior

    They come from every edge of where the eye faltered.

    Lior could and would not pass judgement. He had never been to the resort and can recall when this land has ceased to exist but he is a good father, and proud, so he supports Castile openly with his presence. Silver-white eyes acknowledge the former king with a silent eye. He watches how the skin puckers ever so slightly beneath the flawless skin, the gold nearly blinding as the sunlight reflected from the angelic stallions very being. Lior wonders what it is like to be so pure in a world far too cruel to understand the gift it harbored...

    Lior understands their objection. He can sympathize with their distraught and immediate reaction. Change was bad! New leaders meant new rules! New iron walls to trap citizens and keep them from their bawling babes caught on the outside! But no, no, it was not as it has to be. There was a time and place when to recognize stagnant grounds...parasites festered in stagnant grounds. To grow strong, all must work together to protect. All must contribute. A leader is meant to be ordained as a sacrificial lamb when war or change came...it was in actually, a generous offer, to be the head of a stagnant and vulnerable land.

    Lior watches how they raises their voices, some silent and watching, others meandering along the outer edges. He still says nothing but is keen to the way their lashes flinch nervously at the boom of Tiphon voice or the way tails snap and hooves stomp to garner a cloud of dust as Castile attempts with civic reason. The pale eyes focus on the pheonix mare as she slips to a more reasonable, somber appearance. An ear is offered to catch the words she offers.

    She seems to understand, a glimmer of hope blooms within the gunmetal stallion, she was more than just a fair face of the Resort residents and Lior makes a mental note that she was a promising thing he would potentially seek out for conversation, interested in what brought her to the island. Lior would do so with each and all who chose to remain but he would start with the phoenix.

    Still it seemed the males could not be reasoned with, but then again young males were hotheaded and ridiculously enthusiastic in displaying just how big each of them were in a masqueraded pissing contest. Lior lifts a brow from beneath the tangle of his dark hair, pushing it away so be may look upon the newest face...a blue mare at the shoulder of the pale lavender dragoness. The stallion wonders who else was planning to show up...and if there were more then could they just get the fuck on with it already? They were wasting daylight and Lior was already looking across the edge of the sea for a cave to take a nice well deserved nap in.

    Lior flickers an eye and ear to his son and grunts gently, uttering his readiness to solve this little debacle one way or another.

    Reply
    #19
    Sochi

    darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
    maybe you need me or maybe you don't

    They quarrel and choose sides and fight amongst one another and it becomes dreadfully boring to her. A headache begins to brew behind her eyes, a sharp aching need to just put an end to it all. Just one pounce and she could at least break through the tension and the words into something real. One pierced jugular beneath her jaws and they could settle this like true predators, letting leadership rise and fall.

    In truth, she doesn’t understand their need for diplomacy.

    Their desire to be led by one among them—someone they trust.

    Did they not want the strongest to lead them? Did they not want the fiercest?

    She feels herself growing irritable and edgy, frustrated so that she can only acknowledge her daughter with a sweep of velvet lip over her head before turning her attention back to the mess before her.

    Castile remains set on diplomacy—reigning the beast within—and she admires him for his restraint even as she desperately wishes he would let loose. Still, she has had enough and she turns her attention to the naysayers. “A challenge was made for the mantle of leadership and a leader has emerged.” She jerks her head toward the angelic stallion, having no true knowledge of him or his personality or accomplishments.

    She does not care.

    “Even the previous leader has accepted this. Would you not want the strongest to lead and protect?”

    Every inch of her is a predator. She has been stripped of the finer delicacies of her mother’s teachings. She has shed her kinder, softer curves. Over the years, throughout the trials, she has been boiled down into this kernel of truth, of justice, of feral knowledge. She can only meet them on this one ground of it.

    For a second, her impassive, silver gaze moves over them.

    In her mind, should they so desire the crown, they should battle for it—fight for it, bleed for it. Should one of them be able to best Castile—although she doubts it, arrogant in her belief in his brawn and his worth as a leader—then the title should be handed over. It was the law of nature. The law as old as time: the strongest thrive. But something tells her that they would rather just talk about it longer and so she just shifts in her spot, a wave of striped tiger fur rippling through her body before settling back into obsidian. 

    Not now. For now, she would wait. For now.

    playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
    if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

    [Image: sochi.png]

    I was less than graceful, I was not kind
    be out watching other lovers lose their spine

    Reply
    #20
    There was a hell of a lot of talk, and Kirby stood back and watched for a minute as people had their say. Even took a couple of steps forward and bumped his shoulder against Lacey’s gently when Kharon had his turn, grinned at her like i’n’ he gorgeous, look what we made. Such a fuckin’ charismatic kid, always had been, no idea where the shit he’d gotten that from.

    “Yes, princess, we allowed him to lead,” he shot back at Cress when she threw down in his direction, all offended dignity over what was just facts. “We had the numbers and the power to take charge if we wanted, but this is one of the few safe places in this fucked up world, and none of us are stupid. People were gonna come flooding, might as well have a leader who would be good at dealing with the diplomatic shit and keeping the peace, and a safe home for our families was more important than shit like who was in charge. We let him. We had no problem with him, he was doing a fine job, so we didn’t fucking challenge the fact that he was in charge and take the place for ourselves ‘cause it’s a fucking haven for all of the world and not just one dumb brute who thinks he has to fight people to get his way ‘cause his momma never taught him some goddamn manners. You don’t have to like it, doesn’t make it any less true. So save your bullshit offense for protecting your precious sanctuary from the first person who fucking violated it, and don’t waste your time on the fact that you don’t like my attitude. Because all I’m trying to do is the exact same thing, protect this island and its sanctuary from someone who has already clearly shat all over what this island supposedly stands for.”

    Not exactly as diplomatic and likeable as his boy there. Oh well.

    When Tiphon rounded on Lacey, Kirby took a half-step forward and squared off in turn. “Nah, sweetheart, the only one who’s forfeited anything here is you. By literally ceding your precious island and your sanctuary and your right to kick anybody off it to someone yeah okay stronger than you, boo fucking hoo. You gave up on this island, on your people, on your sanctuary, the second you gave it away. Why the shit would we back you when you already gave up on us? Didn’t give anyone else a shot to come back you up, couldn’t protect OUR fucking island from one person? I would’ve backed you. You led this place just fine, things were good, I had no complaints. YOU threw that away, so don’t go lashing out at my baby just ‘cause you’re a fucking quitter. You could’ve oh I don’t know, named a champion if you couldn’t take the bastard yourself. Maybe somebody with some built in armor. Maybe someone who could literally be made of weapons if he felt like it. Maybe someone who could actually win a fucking fight if you’d given him half a chance. You’re the one who didn’t have the brains to use the power available to him, didn’t have the balls to hold onto this place for two fucking minutes while your people responded to the attack that put us in this fucking position in the first place, and threw your sanctuary away at literally the first challenge to your leadership.

    “We didn’t show to your meeting. Did it fucking occur to you to wonder why? Maybe it was ‘cause Lacey was missing. Maybe it was because our family was in fucking crisis mode ‘cause my babies’ gorgeous, brave momma was off trying to save the fucking world and help heal the plague that made your fucking sanctuary necessary in the first place and we couldn’t find her. Just fucking maybe something more important came up. Politics don’t trump family emergency, and I’m not sorry. My family comes first. Don’t you fucking dare try and tell us to leave. You gave up on this place. If you don’t like the changes that result, then maybe you should get the fuck out instead of backing the person who literally just fucking attacked you after being invited in as a guest in your home. Why the everliving fuck would you expect us to trust someone whose only actions so far are the exact opposite of what you yourself wanted this place to be? Some fucking beacon of hope you turned out to be. Nah. You gave up your right to protest when you gave up on us. You don’t get to make any fucking decisions here, you already made your choice.

    “And as for you,” he continued, turning to face Castile. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to show up and judge us based on the opinions of a couple of pissed off cowards who don't like the sound of truth when it isn't dripping honey. Don’t try and sympathize with the person you just waltzed in and pummeled and then smeared blood and shit all over what used to be his home. No. I fucking know your type, and I’m not interested. You don’t get to shed blood and then put on a pretty face and expect us to play nice. Uh-uh, bitch. Nobody with half a brain,” and he let that comment linger in the air for a second to make damn sure the people who were falling for his shit were listening, ‘cause he meant them, “is gonna be dumb enough to think your sanctuary is gonna fucking mean anything. Not when it was founded on bloodshed and the unbelievable disrespect of violating the hospitality this island showed you when we invited you here to gather and celebrate the holidays in peace. You wanted to live here, you could’ve. We’re relatively decent people, we would’ve welcomed you and yours just fuckin’ fine. You wanted to help out and make this place the sanctuary you’re promising, there are ways you could’ve. You showed us exactly who you are already, we don’t need to play wait and see with something as important as our children’s lives. You’re stronger than Tiphon. Big fucking deal. Doesn’t make you the strongest here, and strength isn’t the only thing that fucking matters when it comes to leading a sanctuary. The head of our family is Lacey here, and I’d throw down for her any day. Just like I would’ve thrown down for you, Tiphon, if you’d given me half a fucking chance.” Well almost just like. He had no interest in shagging Tiphon after. Still would’ve fought just as fucking hard for his babies’ home though.
    Call me the world's sexiest killing machine.
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