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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - Dreams of Drowning Men

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Played by Offline e-cho [PM] Posts: 48 — Threads: 12
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Inactive Character
#1


And I've never felt more alone / It feels so scary, getting old
It is said that to conquer one’s fear they must embrace it, accept it, and then move on from it. Only once this is complete will one be all they are meant to be: complete, whole, functioning. 


If that is so, and if that is true, then Juniper knows she is not the Priestess her sisters would wish her to be. She is not the lover that el Rey deserves. How can she give him only half of herself when there is another half, a newer half, waiting to be born, to be reunited, to burst into the world and introduce the Heirophlakes as unconquerable and unstoppable? 


Many nights she’s stayed up, gnawing on her lips, applying salve the following morning, and thought of nothing but the ocean. It is vast and it is terrifying. Its reach, unknown. Its depth, endless. She shivers in her bed and feels like she’s drowning on those nights. Only the scythe smile of the moon, the last touch of Solis’ fire, and the gloam that Vespera offers up provide any comfort to her in those moments. 


In the barracks with the Halcyon, they do not twine themselves about one another as her sect of Vespera’s priestesses do. It leaves her skin aching, lonely. Even after a year and some odd moon cycles, she is still unaccustomed to sleeping alone. There has always been someone to comfort her should she need it. Now, there is no one. 


El Rey should have been there to hold her close. 


Even he left. 


She wants to feel bitter. How she longs to detest him. 


Juniper cannot. 


All she can do is conquer her own fears one by one. So she floats from the Prastaglia cliffs on her dove-grey wings and settles into the sand as some shorebird would. Long-legged and silent, she dutifully looks anywhere but the expanse of the water. 


There are many holes that dot the cliffside, some closer to the water than others. It is to these she walks instead, fleeing from the press of foam at her heels to something safer, somewhere she’s less likely to suffocate in the open air. 


When her wings can extend and press against stone, the goddess-girl learns how to breathe. So she does, pulling down the salty tang of the air as calmly as she can. That is to say, not entirely calm at all. Her breaths are still more shallow than they should be, but Juniper does not know how to focus on anything but the sound of lapping water and dying things. Even in her head, there are krakens that slaughter even now. 


Silently, she begs them all to run.



@Caspian | "speaks" | notes: ;u; 

rallidae | art










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Caspian
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#2


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@Juniper

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CASPIAN
/
the salt is on the briar rose,
the fog is in the fir trees;

Caspian isn’t afraid of anything, except to die unremarked.

Perhaps it is an irony, that in his line of work anonymity is a benefit. And it’s not that he wants notoriety, exactly - to have his name on the world’s lips - but he does want all the influence that comes with it.

Add in the moon, too, why don’t you.

Caspian huffs a breath in the darkness at his companion’s pointed thought. “Just get us out of here,” he says, shifting away from a clammy cave wall. Go forward about two lengths, then veer left. There’s a passage back out to the beach. The stallion ducks his head and begins to walk, each step careful, and listens to the sound of the bat’s clicking sonar ahead of him.

It had been a good day for exploring - they’d uncovered another cavern, wide enough for several horses and a good bit of treasure, connected through an unexplored path to a cave mouth Caspian already knew of. Now they were sorting out another escape route, since the main entrance filled up with seawater at high tides - and he liked to have a backup getaway, anyhow. One only he knew about.

“Ow!” Cursing, Caspian navigates away from the sharp stalagmite he’d just stumbled into, shooting a glare toward the bat. Sorry! Didn’t see that one. The stallion wasn’t sure he believed it - there was a note of cheeriness in the bat’s voice that belied the sincerity of his apology. After that there were no more bumps; the path took another curve then began to lead downward, and they both could hear the hiss of the sea. Gradually the cave grew lighter until Caspian blinked and realized he could see shadows, and cracks and crystals on the walls, and daylight up ahead. He could already taste the sea air, refreshing after so long in the earth’s belly.

Benvolio was still in front - the paint could see him now, a tiny silhouette that flew out the cave’s mouth and up. He was about to follow when he heard the bat squeak. Casp - there’s someone here. A stranger.

The stallion relaxed, just a little. A stranger was better than an unhappy customer. Still, he proceeds more cautiously until he’s in the mouth of the cavern and the pegasus is before him, wings extended, her breathing a little rapid. She is too much a silhouette for him to tell much, and for a moment he considers slipping back into the cave, all the way back the way they’d come - or at least waiting until she’d gone. But he is too ready to be out of the dark and the stale air.

“Everything alright?” he calls, nonchalant, as though it is perfectly normal for a young man to come walking out of a black cavern.












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