Novus
Hello, Guest! Register

Private  - I hear your voice in mine

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)



Played by Offline Obsidian [PM] Posts: 336 — Threads: 45
Signos: 205
Dusk Court Citizen
Female [She/Her/Hers] // 6 [Year 498 Spring] // 15 hh // Hth: 20 — Atk: 20 — Exp: 56 // Active Magic: Time Travel // Bonded: N/A
#1

i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls
Oh the horizon ripples like water. And she thirsts.
 
Sand dusted lashes close, pressing coarse against her cheek. Florentine has come to glitter here. She gleams like polished gold, made bright by the way the sun catches upon the damp of her skin. How long ago had she begun to dream of cool pools – she knows an oasis is here, she knows the cold of its water’s touch.
 
But how long had she been straying in search? How many times might a mirage have pushed her off course? Such devilry lay in the fantasy of a mirage and soon, too soon the flower girl is lost.
 
Her tongue is as dry as the sands she steps over. Her body is turned to molten gold beneath the furnace of a sun that will not relent. Florentine burns and melts – she will be remolded here melted into sand and reborn as something different.
 
Here, in the darkness of her mind, where sand does not kiss the sky and the blue sky does not reach the ends of the earth, oh here she sees the green of her home. In the quiet behind her lashes she feels the shade of woodlands and feel the sway of grasses upon her slender limbs.
 
The Dusk queen thirsts and at last lifts her dagger. It glints, proud and dangerous in the gaze of the Solterran sun. Florentine watches it, wonders and begs. Thirst would drive her mad, thirst would make her weak – were the flower queen anything but herself.
 
Yet this is the girl born of the Rift forged in fetid magic and time that went on as endless as the ends of the universe. She has lived worse lives than this and with a drunken air (for delirium was sweet), she drops the blade and it sings against her breast.
 
Florentine opens her eyes at last and laughs. For there, oh there, is an oasis – beautiful and cool and shrouded in trees. Its water is a siren song and upon her slender, fae-limbs the girl flutters closer and wonders when this might turn out to be a mere fantasy too.

@Eik 

florentine
rocking your pretty flower world






She is clothed with strength and dignity, 
and she laughs without fear of the future 
Reply





Forum Jump: