Quick Update:
As stated previously in the Discord chat, this round has been extended until Saturday, June 16th at 11:59 PM EST. Tagging @Cyrene, @Aislinn and @Isorath! Due to an unforeseen circumstance on Spaced's end, @Reichenbach is not required to reply this round.
IPOMOEA
she said lay me down in golden dandelions
W
hen the statue moved, Ipomoea looked to Somnus.He was looking for reassurance, for affirmation; for confirmation that someone else had seen it this time, and it wasn’t simply his mind running rampant on him—as it tended to do. But a quick glance around the room showed copies of the same expression, written in twelve different ways upon the Regime’s faces.
He listens as they all speak; as his own Emissary and Sovereign voice their opinion, but also Seraphina and Eik, and Florentine and Asterion. They echo each other, content to blame conflict on fate.
But Po had traveled to those same Courts as them. He had been both welcomed and shunned in his lifetime. He had made his own decisions on who to trust and who to talk to, and had seen others do likewise. ’Isn’t that all this is? A decision?’ How was it they all could agree, and still speak of the difficulty of achieving peace? Of being friendly? Of letting bygones be bygones? If everyone desired peace, as Asterion claimed, why was peace still not to be had?
Perhaps Po was simply cut from a different rock. He couldn't hold grudges, couldn't see when it might be beneficial. So young and naive still, he was convinced the answer was as simple as the question--all they had to do was choose to be kinder.
He shifted uneasily, feeling his wings flutter and the dandelions creep up his fetlocks. Magic spilled from him without his consent: the longer he stands, the more flowers bloom beneath his hooves, crawling out from beneath him to twine up his legs, as if attempting to consume him alive. He inhales deeply, the edges of his nose quivering, tasting their scent on his tongue. Without a second thought to consider what he was doing, he presses his shoulder into Somnus’ own, drawing strength from the golden frame.
“I agree with Seraphina,” he said at last, his voice shaky. “Who we are, who we choose to become, is based on the choices we make. Peace is a choice, as is war.” He looked first to Somnus, then further to Orion, before continuing. "As for me and my family, we choose peace.
@everyone | "speaks" | notes: <3
