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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


    [private]  été le plus beau jour de ma vie
    #7
    Bardot
    I know what sin is

    Bardot hadn’t much experience with magic, the flowers and horn being recent additions, and had grown up in a time where magic was more of a rarity. Sometimes she forgets that almost everyone carried a secret now. Her overall resilience in the jungle and learned experiences had served her as a shield for all this time, a magic of its own nature, but she still is unaware of this ability that she has herself. One that needs no fairies touch. He snorts and she blinks at him, wondering what thought had passed through his handsome head. He thinks of those begging to be patched up and she wonders if he senses something broken in her. It’s a strange thought to have but his charming smile doesn’t entirely light up his brilliant eyes and she remembers the rumble of Tunnel’s mouth against her skin and finds that there is something comparable in the two.

    She finds the beauty in the brokenness, the desire in the darkness, the redemption in the terrible.

    Perhaps this is why he has a harder time trying to find a way past her mental barriers, for there is nothing in her that she desires to be fixed. To be mended. She acknowledges those sharp edges in herself and embraces them regardless, lets them pierce through her skin and flood her with feeling.

    ”The jungle?” He asks and she watches the little flick of his calm gaze go up to her horn. A few days ago she had held it against a blue stallions throat before she had melted into his hard embrace but both had been aware it might have gone differently, that there was an outcome where she removed her horn from his throat, blood running down the spiraled paths to drip from her forehead. Beauty or a weapon, why could it not be both?

    He says he has never seen one and she blinks again, a flutter of dark lashes against brilliant gold. What makes him jungle like? “Your coat would blend in for one.” She says softly but that’s not it, not really. He is handsome and striking like a dart frog, the beautiful ones with the promise of death lingering on their skin, hidden beneath the surface. That’s what he reminds her of with his charming smile that doesn’t quite reach those calm lavender eyes. “Shall I show you one day?”

    She asks with a slight tilt of her head, that whisper of a smile ghosting on dark lips. Glancing away and then finding him coming closer. Her own muscles spasm slightly in response but she keeps herself relaxed as he wades closer, in fact she extends her muzzle as if to bump gently against his, to breathe him in and see what kind of monster she had caught herself today.

    They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
    html © dante.


    @Molech
    [Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]
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    Messages In This Thread
    été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Bardot - 06-12-2021, 03:15 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Molech - 06-12-2021, 07:24 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Bardot - 06-13-2021, 12:41 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Molech - 06-15-2021, 12:08 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Bardot - 06-18-2021, 08:36 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Molech - 06-30-2021, 12:51 PM
    RE: été le plus beau jour de ma vie - by Bardot - 06-30-2021, 04:08 PM



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