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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


    lips and perfect skin (Adria)
    #1
    Time. Time is an interesting thing when you have a mother that twists every second this way and that. It feels so strange, it feels like nothing is ever right. It has made Doctor wonder, it has made him laugh. It has made him stare at the stars and wonder whether any time has passed, whether he is even real at all. He often tucks his chin to his breast; he questions the very turning of the world around him.

    Is this even real?

    He wanders, and he wanders alone. He had once known love and he had known the curling hug of his mother. Both are now gone so he haunts the shadows like a fiend. He watches the world from afar. He likes it there, in the dark where it feels a little safe and where he may at least have time to consider his options.

    But suddenly there she is.

    A lovely little goldish-colored creature. His eyes stick on her and he freezes. She is too beautiful to pass by, and he knows that he is unfit. Still, he stops and he stares, curious and full of awe. Some part of him tells him to leave her be - you’ll only ruin her - but a stronger side urges him forward.

    Doctor slips from the shadows he loves so dear and into the summer sun. It is light upon his back and it makes him smile, makes him lift his head a little so that he seems a little more normal. But then, just as soon as he puts that handsome smile on, it sheds away to anyone wiser than those with experience.

    “My, aren’t you beautiful?”

    @Adria
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    #2
    For once her life Adria walks away from Silver Cove and she doesn’t stop. She walks past the water and its ever-present, tinkling sounds. Her steps lead her through the bare desert of Pangea, quiet and nearly empty. What did it matter if she caught the plague now? The mountain itself was cracked apart, bleeding for them all. Her heart felt the same and it hurt.

    The dry dust of her journey gathers on her golden skin (though it seems to be fading these days, turning darker while her mane grows lighter) and she keeps on as if totally consumed by her thoughts. They remain circling around Clayton and the black mare, replaying his indecision and weakness. How could she have been so stupid?

    He was destined to hold a crown. He already had a queen ready. What was she except a complication?

    Kaka ki gen koulé pal estipid she curses him in her thoughts, still too much a lady to say such things out loud even though he certainly deserved it. The islanders believed a curse spoken was one you couldn’t take back, and Clayton (for all his many, many faults) wasn’t someone she necessarily wanted to stick that evil on. She sighed, realizing her heart was still too kind. It needed hardening.

    The nereid pauses to lift her head and catch her bearings. She’s standing in the meadow, knee-deep in the waves of green and not far from the shady repose of a few trees. Burning from the mindless walk, she rests her legs and notices a flicker of movement that separates itself from those trees. A stallion - big, bold, framed in black - stunning all the same.

    He compliments her as a way of introduction and, normally, she would respond with a shy rebuttal but in the heat of moment something overcomes her. For some reason she wants to be uncaring, she wants to take a risk, so she lifts her lovely little head and pins him to the spot with bright, purple eyes. “Not bad yourself.” She replies, the tone of her voice heavy with an island accent.

    Everything inside of her warns against engaging with this stranger but she doesn’t care. She takes a few bold step towards him and offers her nose. “Alone?” She asks him, “If so, not for long. I could use some company.”

    The heavy undertone of that innuendo can’t be mistaken. She’s willing, and he seems available.

    @[Doctor] phone post, but I wanted to get a reply up Wink
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    #3

    i am weeping shades of indigo

    Maybe once he would have left her.

    Maybe he would have left his mother alone like she had left him. She had borne him all of a sudden and she had only taught him ferocity. She had given him her hatred and her anger, her fury. Anadil was a fearsome creature. She was angry. She was cross. She was short with him and she had no patience. She made sure that Doctor knew that.

    She made sure she knew that her son would know the anger by which he was borne.

    But suddenly now.. Suddenly, from this rage that Doctor had fought through already, the lands and the creatures he had burnt thanks to her rage, alls the cries of “no!” that he’d heard through her mind, linked to his… all he can remember is “no, stop!” and yet….

    -~

    Here he is. Staring at this beautiful mare. Her coat glimmers. She looks at him, she sees him.. He stops for a moment in awe. Her gaze is nefarious. She looks straight at him and she is not angry or even afraid. And he stares right back.

    He sucks in a deep breath and for once he exhales without flame. “Yes,” he coughs back as if his throat is caked with ash. And then, with another inhale, with that flame that licks upon his tongue to keep him warm, he slips a little closer. She is like him, he is like her. They have something to hate and they want to hate it together.

    “What has left you so lonesome, darling girl?” He is tempted to lift his muzzle to her ear but he is wary - he knows too much pain. Still, he lifts his muzzle and casts her a glance from his coppery eyes. “I may be able to help you.” He nips her mane a little, but is careful not to be too forward. His breath smells like ash, he knows, and he pulls his mouth away lest she be too shy.

    Doctor

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    #4

    -Adria-

    For once in her seemingly uneventful life, Adria feels very much in charge of herself. Despite the fact that this is incredibly out of character for her (the way she slides underneath his touch without hesitation,) it seems that denying her wants and desires would be like avoiding fate. They’re here together, intersecting each others lives at this exact moment in a random twist of events, while she chooses to push down the voice that so often told her no (now their shoulders lie flat against each other, one copper and golden coin flush together,) and instead she listens to the rich tone of his ruined voice.

    The stranger is not so bold as she would like him to be; Adria takes the lead and skims her mottled pink lips over the dark line that accentuates his back.

    “You mean who.” She smirks, filling her lungs with the smell of dying cinders, “And you could…” The nereid muses softly, tilting her eye towards him with a demure gaze. “But my satisfaction regarding that moun sòt would require you grinding his squirming face underneath your hooves.”

    And she calls herself a lady.

    “You are warm.” She comments briefly, having allowed him a quiet moment or two for response. An ache plummets through her at the thought of it, like a sharp knife between the soft folds of her gleaming chest. She grinds her teeth and presses closer to him, causing the undulating waves of her disorderly mane to mingle with his own before they fall in twisted ringlets across his back. He wears a cape of her satin hair and she cannot help but admit that she adores it.

    “If you really want to help, then help me to forget.” Adria challenges him in a velvet tenor. They are grown and without restraints, no? Both adults and clearly consenting. As she drifts into a slow, sultry walk the grass around them whispers and her teeth reach out to tug the flyaway strands of his tail before she passes. The seamare peers back across her shoulder, but it is clear her destination will be the comfort and quiet seclusion of the trees he was resting under earlier.

    Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me



    @[Doctor] ok so I'm obsessed with them now
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