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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


    trust my rage - venge
    #1
    Will I find a believer? Another one who believes,
    Another one to deceive. Over and over, down on my knees.
    Bright, glowing green eyes abruptly blink open to stare blankly at the dying sunlight overhead. Rubbing a hand against his cheek, he slowly rises up into a sitting position. You’d think he would have gotten used to these random time warps by now. Odin certainly loved to fuck with him – such a petty, bitter thing he had always been. A silly grudge which grounded him to Midgard; he’s lost count of how many centuries he’s been living down here.

    A deep-seated familiarity rushes through his veins and he stares in surprise at both of his palms. Green sparks erupt from his palms and he laughs delightedly. It has been far too long since his magic reigned unobstructed and free. He has contained some degree of it with him through his long journey, a bit of shape-shifting here and there and some flames thrown about every once in a while. There was even a bit of healing for some fair maiden a long time ago, but never did it lay in wait to this degree. Perhaps this latest warp shifted Odin’s mark enough to release its grip upon his lifeblood’s magic.

    His hand shifts to his left cheek where Odin’s mark has moved to be blatantly displayed. It was still a brand that bespoke of his banishment, but it had definitely lost some of its previous hold on him. Leaning forward, he finally shifts to a standing position. It was time to inspect his new surroundings. He’s still retained his previous outfit of dark blue jeans and a white v-neck tee-shirt. Of course, proper leather boots remained his footwear for he was raised in a harsh and rugged land.

    The weather was warm and breezy – the embodiment of a perfect summer evening.

    He wanders away from the soft grasses of the meadow he had been laying amongst in order to wander closer to the soft, churning waves rhythmically beating against the shoreline. Waking up close to the ocean was very reminiscent of his previous experience in Sielunn. The déjà vu gave him a sense of comfort. His green eyes remained glowing as they gazed out past the ocean’s horizon.

    He knew that eventually someone would come and interrupt his time.

    It was merely a question of how long would he have to wait.
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    Messages In This Thread
    trust my rage - venge - by holli - 12-29-2015, 01:30 AM



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