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Private  - and the snakes start to sing [fall]

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Played by Offline Layla [PM] Posts: 64 — Threads: 7
Signos: 90
Vagabond Citizen
Female [She/Her/Hers] // Immortal [Year 496 Winter] // 15.3 hh // Hth: 20 — Atk: 20 — Exp: 29 // Active Magic: Illusion // Bonded: Abraxia (Dragon)
#1

I am the daydream, bring you faith and conviction
I am the nightmare you've been crawling through

Lucinda isn't entirely sure why she's still in Delumine and not back in the embrace of the sea. Perhaps it's because of the man with the devilish smile who she met by the shore. There's a part of her that hopes their paths might cross again and another part of her that still wants to rip out his throat. (Though, who is to say that she wouldn't want to do that anyway? He should be honored then, to be Chosen in such a way)

The kelpie has wandered to their meadow and she soon realizes it's a mistake. It appears this Court is holding their own autumnal festivities. Everything is so disgustingly tranquil and happy here that it makes her sick. From the way the flowers light up like stars to all the couples with their kids smiling from ear to ear. How lovely it would be to break this all up with a little bit of chaos. Unfortunately, she is a little out of her realm here so far from the sea.

Abraxia follows beside her with a similar expression of disgust. She can feel how restless the dragon is through their bond. How easy it would be to light the meadow up in her green fire. For now, she gently pets the creature's head with the tip of her wing. Her eyes briefly glance at the strange markings cut out of the grass, but she dismisses it as some strange Court custom.

Among all the happy families, Lu notices someone who is alone. She decides to walk towards them and wonders if they might feel the same about this celebration (or whatever it is they're calling it).

"How tragic, really," she says to the woman upon her approach. Her green eyes seem to glow even brighter among the not-stars. "How little they know of the real world." She watches as one child braids another's mane and puts flowers in with it.

Oh to be a child again and not know of all the horrors and the monsters lurking in the shadows. Lu no longer remembers how it felt to be so innocent and so unchanged by the world. Her scars still sting sometimes.

For all they know, they will become monsters too.

"Speaking."
credits


@Sereia <3





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Played by Offline Obsidian [PM] Posts: 35 — Threads: 6
Signos: 90
Dawn Court Merchant
Female [She/her/hers] // 5 [Year 500 Winter] // 15 hh // Hth: 10 — Atk: 10 — Exp: 19 // Active Magic: N/A // Bonded: N/A
#2

Sereia



Her knees are frosted in stardust. She feels it itching her skin as if she is the fabric of the universe and the stars wish to burrow deep, deep into her endless soul. All of the meadow glows, it shines beneath the bruising blue sky. The wind blows and the lamp light dances over the long dusted grasses which glimmer like diamonds. 


This place is too beautiful, too pure for Sereia. She feels it, in the way her body feels too sharp, too jointed. Her eyes flutter shut. How long? Her kelpie asks as it writhes and wants and hungers. How long until her tongue will bear meat into her throat? How long until her chains come loose and at last she can wrestle control from Sereia and gorge and live and thrive?


Eternity.


Sereia would lock the monster away within her for an eternity. If only she could. She breathes, slow, slow. She keeps from the crowds who amble the meadow with fairytales in their eyes and hope and love blooming in their chests. She stays where she cannot so easily smell them, where the taste of flesh dulls and it is no longer a lance into her belly.


It’s tragic… The words slip like ink out of the dark. They slide into Sereia’s ears as readily as a serpent down a hole. Another kelpie looms out of the dark. She is raven black and her eyes aglow like the deepest depths of the ocean, where creatures swim lit by their own lamps. Initial glances may suggest Sereia is fragile, a dove with a broken wing - helpless. But she is not. The kelpie presses closer and her own stirs within. It prowls along her ribs as the sight of the stranger, it darkens Sereia’s eyes. 


“It is.” She finds herself agreeing, her voice low and soft and terribly sad. The children laugh and weave each other’s hair. “Innocence,” She murmurs, “Sometimes it feels like it was only ever a dream.” Beneath the fan of her thick lashes, Sereia peers at the stranger. “What would you tell them of the real world?” The girl asks, soft as the butterfly wings a girl weaves into another’s hair.


@Lucinda <3


 

She wore her hope like a crown,
an unspoken soliloquy of dreams

~ Ariana







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