04-04-2021, 09:33 PM
( MY DAYDREAMS LOVE THE VIOLENT COLOR OF YOUR LIPS
AND THE NIGHTMARES THAT ACCOMPANY IT )
AND THE NIGHTMARES THAT ACCOMPANY IT )
It had been an accident.
One minute she had been in Pangea, practicing her teleportation in the river, and the next moment she had surfaced in some rough sea. She had fought against the waves as panic seized her, gasping for air as the water pulled her under and then forced her back to the surface again. The crushing darkness did little to help her orient herself and there had been no hope of her teleporting back to the safety of the river in Pangea. So she had struggled to keep her head above the violent, churning surface of the water and the waves had eventually spit her onto a stretch of unfamiliar beach.
And it is here that she remains, collapsed in the sand as she tries to regain her composure. She keeps close to the water, as if doing so will limit the possibility of drawing any attention to herself before she can build up enough strength to get back to Pangea.
But the fight to keep her head above water had been long and hard and her heart is still hammering out a frantic, staccato beat in the cavern of her chest as she lies there in the sand. Her porcelain sides heave and fear settles heavy in the pit of her gut. Her father will be worried sick, she knows. Will he tell her mother? Will she send the dark magicians after her? Will they find her?
A tremor steals down the length of her spine as she considers the alternative. What if someone else finds her first? She has no way of knowing whether or not she has landed herself in hostile territory. Does Pangea have enemies? She is too sheltered by her father to know much about politics. If someone finds her, will she be better off not telling them where she came from?
She makes a silent promise to herself that she’ll never use her water teleportation again once she’s safely back home in Pangea.
One minute she had been in Pangea, practicing her teleportation in the river, and the next moment she had surfaced in some rough sea. She had fought against the waves as panic seized her, gasping for air as the water pulled her under and then forced her back to the surface again. The crushing darkness did little to help her orient herself and there had been no hope of her teleporting back to the safety of the river in Pangea. So she had struggled to keep her head above the violent, churning surface of the water and the waves had eventually spit her onto a stretch of unfamiliar beach.
And it is here that she remains, collapsed in the sand as she tries to regain her composure. She keeps close to the water, as if doing so will limit the possibility of drawing any attention to herself before she can build up enough strength to get back to Pangea.
But the fight to keep her head above water had been long and hard and her heart is still hammering out a frantic, staccato beat in the cavern of her chest as she lies there in the sand. Her porcelain sides heave and fear settles heavy in the pit of her gut. Her father will be worried sick, she knows. Will he tell her mother? Will she send the dark magicians after her? Will they find her?
A tremor steals down the length of her spine as she considers the alternative. What if someone else finds her first? She has no way of knowing whether or not she has landed herself in hostile territory. Does Pangea have enemies? She is too sheltered by her father to know much about politics. If someone finds her, will she be better off not telling them where she came from?
She makes a silent promise to herself that she’ll never use her water teleportation again once she’s safely back home in Pangea.
amathea
@[The Monsters] PLEASE take her infrared vision?