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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


    [open]  the voices of the dead
    #4
    幻想
    Ereshkigal
    Her mother had told her before that she could not always stay in her dreams, that eventually she would need to learn to take control of reality. The butterfly kissed filly found herself having trouble being interested at all, though. What point was there to dwelling in reality, when dreams felt so much nicer? Not only that, but in her dreams, her mother was not there. In her dreams, Chou could not scold her for laughter, or nag at her about paying attention. In her dreams, she could run away.

    And so, in her mind, she ran. Eyes still shut, she let her mind wander off, daydreaming of a world made of endless skies, flying with wings larger than she had in reality. She dreamt of swirling through the clouds, their soft pillows dragging behind her as she whisked away through the wind. Here, it felt safe, it felt free. Here, she knew that no one could reach her.

    It was all just a daydream, though, and in reality, she was still very vulnerable. A small ache began to grow within her stomach, and slowly the physical discomfort brought her mind back down to reality with her body, snapping her out of her little fantasy. Ereshkigal groaned as the pain grew a bit, shifting on her legs before laying down, hoping to ease the discomfort with a moment of rest. She dare not run to her mother, for she feared that she would recieve scolding words for getting sickly so early, and waking her mother from her rest. Chou was not the kindest of mares, she made sure that Ereshkigal stayed alive and warm, but that was it. The only thing her mother cared about teaching her is how to manipulate, how to get what she wanted. She knew she would recieve no kindness over a small belly ache, so she lay there on the damp morning grass, shifting and cringing as the pain whirled in her small stomach.
    You're like therapy with no solution 催眠 You're a remedy that's useless チョウ

    @[Iris]
    [Image: giphy.gif]
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    Messages In This Thread
    the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-02-2020, 02:51 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 09-02-2020, 04:15 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-07-2020, 02:39 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 09-24-2020, 11:07 AM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 09-28-2020, 01:43 PM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Ereshkigal - 10-03-2020, 11:43 AM
    RE: the voices of the dead - by Iris - 10-16-2020, 11:52 AM



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