kassandra,
we were born in the shadow
of the crimes of our fathers
Kassandra’s visions had plagued her since her very first memories; since she was a spindle-legged, trembling babe, snatched from her mother’s side by a nameless thief and dragged before a cruel king who would demand a promise of his rise only to be delivered the gospel of his fall. It was not a particularly handy gift to have-- and, probably, faking one wasn’t the best plan of action to get them out of this situation. But, all cards on the table, and that was the one she picked. Kass had always been awful at cards.
An attendant hurried over and beat at the flames with their apron, but all the spilt alcohol had burnt up in the first, rainbow-hued burst and all that was left was a gentle, hickory-shadowed smoke. Some of the banners and dangling, decorative implements were also smouldering, but Kas thought that was a nice touch, a little bit of moving night, like physical things were becoming ethereal and turning to stardust before their eyes.
Mildly intoxicated Kass was even more dreamy and romantic than sober Kass, somehow.
For a moment of piercing, paralzying, needle-blooded fear, she thought Rivane would be mad. But she is laughing! And Kassandra is laughing. And how could the night be bad if they are all laughing? And she can walk, she just likes the feeling of being pressed up against Rivane a bit too much, like partners in crime. But the poor purple creature is having trouble hefting both their weights-- Kass is quite unused to being taller than another person-- and so she rights herself, stumbling only a little bit.
“I have not ever been to a party before,” Kassandra answers, and where there was once a sentiment of sadness there was white-tooth grinning glee. “And the only time I have ever done that before was when my uncle hit me in the stomach very hard. This was much less awful.”
Her stomach was beginning to settle and her head was clearing.
Oculos meets Rivane’s eyes and gives her the flashiest, most obnoxious wink he could possibly muster. we don’t really have a home. just around. He knows she can’t understand him, but he figures she’ll get the message. just help me get her somewhere quiet and dark and she’ll sleep it off.
Kassandra hides a less-than-delicate burp by bowing her head to her armpit. “Yes, what he said. Just somewhere out of the way and I’ll have a little nap, I think.”
Half-led, half-leading, the three of them-- six of them?-- find a quiet cluster of wax myrtle trees over a bed of soft marram high enough up the beach that the high tide does not reach it. The ground begins to solidify and turn back to real dirt there. Without prompting, Kassandra plops down, and tucks her legs in all neat and cozy; she is more tired than thought she was.
“You will probably want to return to the party,” she ventured under a heavy yawn. Oculos is busy poking his nose gently at the rat-bag, wanting to say his goodnights (and also see what his good buddy Beech collected). She was a bit sad, but not overly so, because it was not her place to limit Rivane’s enjoyment.
Also, she was already drifting off to sleep.
“I hope we can do this again someday,” she mumbled, laying her head down, losing the fight to keep her eyes open.
An attendant hurried over and beat at the flames with their apron, but all the spilt alcohol had burnt up in the first, rainbow-hued burst and all that was left was a gentle, hickory-shadowed smoke. Some of the banners and dangling, decorative implements were also smouldering, but Kas thought that was a nice touch, a little bit of moving night, like physical things were becoming ethereal and turning to stardust before their eyes.
Mildly intoxicated Kass was even more dreamy and romantic than sober Kass, somehow.
For a moment of piercing, paralzying, needle-blooded fear, she thought Rivane would be mad. But she is laughing! And Kassandra is laughing. And how could the night be bad if they are all laughing? And she can walk, she just likes the feeling of being pressed up against Rivane a bit too much, like partners in crime. But the poor purple creature is having trouble hefting both their weights-- Kass is quite unused to being taller than another person-- and so she rights herself, stumbling only a little bit.
“I have not ever been to a party before,” Kassandra answers, and where there was once a sentiment of sadness there was white-tooth grinning glee. “And the only time I have ever done that before was when my uncle hit me in the stomach very hard. This was much less awful.”
Her stomach was beginning to settle and her head was clearing.
Oculos meets Rivane’s eyes and gives her the flashiest, most obnoxious wink he could possibly muster. we don’t really have a home. just around. He knows she can’t understand him, but he figures she’ll get the message. just help me get her somewhere quiet and dark and she’ll sleep it off.
Kassandra hides a less-than-delicate burp by bowing her head to her armpit. “Yes, what he said. Just somewhere out of the way and I’ll have a little nap, I think.”
Half-led, half-leading, the three of them-- six of them?-- find a quiet cluster of wax myrtle trees over a bed of soft marram high enough up the beach that the high tide does not reach it. The ground begins to solidify and turn back to real dirt there. Without prompting, Kassandra plops down, and tucks her legs in all neat and cozy; she is more tired than thought she was.
“You will probably want to return to the party,” she ventured under a heavy yawn. Oculos is busy poking his nose gently at the rat-bag, wanting to say his goodnights (and also see what his good buddy Beech collected). She was a bit sad, but not overly so, because it was not her place to limit Rivane’s enjoyment.
Also, she was already drifting off to sleep.
“I hope we can do this again someday,” she mumbled, laying her head down, losing the fight to keep her eyes open.
@Rivane | kass is go sleep now so this is a closer <3
