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Aleksei

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Everything posted by Aleksei

  1. @Tyler What be your feelings/thots/hopes/dreams about this situation?
  2. Guess we can be the responsible parties ?
  3. @King She stayed with the carriage, told to keep it company and for her to stay out of trouble; just enough leash for her to hang herself if she dared to go against her given instructions. It had taken days of begging to be allowed outside her gilded cage, but torturing her brother and being a victim to his storminess was utterly worth it. He folded and allowed her to accompany him to the steps of the meeting, just enough space to let her wander about without getting into too much trouble or be much of a burden. Lyrei lifted her nose to the sky, drawing in a large breath of humid air that made her lungs feel heavy. She couldn't hate on her brother, not when he has been the reason the Mythal House has been quietly prosperous; he has shown that his actions are always thoughtfully put in place, even if a few of those actions are a bit of a nuisance. He had kept his sister out of the spotlight, saying he doesn't need her to distract the outside world with her antics or worry that she will become a victim to some dastardly man looking to take advantage. How little he knew, she thought while plucking at an errant strand of golden hair. Milorian would be one foot in the grave if he knew that his sister had done her own work to keep her home in its place. She has chased witches deep into the Emerald Graves and argued with trolls and other behemoths that traverse her homeland; on top of such adventures, she has been gifted a weapon that makes her sworn to oaths and immense power. Thankfully, if he ever finds out that she is a masked vigilante, he will not take away her newfound freedoms, no matter how much it would ease him to do so. Lyrei won't be shelved, treated like some precious gem that must sit behind a glass case to only be admired for the rest of its days. "Miss, can you please get back in the carriage." Her wondering was interrupted by Delaney, a Seeker who has kept her post near the window the entire time. Amber hues evaluated the woman dressed in her noble attire, her eyes fixed forward and her lips drawn in a rather sloppy grin. Lyrei hated how this woman looked so fashionably strong and determined, not at all having to worry about using her airs of femininity (if she had any) to grasp someone's attention. "I'm just hanging out the window," she retorted. Crimson covered arms were folded on the edge of the window with her chin resting atop her layered hands. Red roses freckle her golden hair, a wonderfully terrible contrast that just caught the eye. "And that's enough to cause trouble." Delaney tapped the elf on the nose, causing it to wrinkle in response to the playful gesture. "I thought you liked trouble?" Lyrei's red painted lips spread in a wide knowing smile. The two women divulge into small talk, their minor laughter rising and falling between them.
  4. Primera looked over the maps and notes with blind eyes, sighing ever so often as she became increasingly overwhelmed by the brevity of the tasks at hand. A part of her wished to set it all aside, knowing well enough that a majority of these notes and maps will mean nothing at all in the days to come. The other half is the responsible part of the person who is not rational or responsible; it tells her that she can't predict everything, and all plans are bound to fail. Until everything falls into its proper place, she must carry on with the normality of life and be grateful for it. Outside her office the castle is dark and nearly empty, the only people wandering about at this time of night were the keepers of her halls and those sworn to protect her and her family. Not many visit her home now that there are no threats to pray away, and peace has once again fallen upon her homeland. The thought made her scoff, causing her to push a few papers away in reaction. There are still shrines full of flowers and offerings at the gates of her home, attached are notes praising the Gods high above for the peace and the strength to counter any attacks with strong will and power. There's never a shred of thanks towards her. And that is perfectly fine and relatively fair. Goddess only by blood and name, the woman has remained primarily behind the scenes of everything, ensuring that her people struggle. Her actions have only made them pray harder, believe harder in the Gods that have never once abandoned them in times of need. It's painful to think that her people do not have enough courage to believe in themselves. No Gods and works of wonders have kept her people alive, and well, it has been themselves all along. Shrugging her opinions away, she finally takes a seat and gets to the heart of her current work. Avylon is alive and growing. Currently, there is a minor festival happening with vendors selling their wares to tourists and pickpockets cashing in on a significant payday. The festival is nothing specific; it had been a quick decision on her part to keep her people occupied so that she can begin to form a relationship between Nehalen (the heart of Renovatio) and another. Reading over the letter now, she feels a small pang of guilt that's quickly smothered by duty. This relationship will mostly help the other party more, but she feels that both will be able to benefit from it no matter what. That's why she is in her office, in the middle of the night lurking over notes and such instead of indulging in the festivities. Soon she will have a visitor who has been given a unique key that unlocks a hidden door near the gates of her home. He will enter there and be led down a barren tunnel that weaves him into a room hidden behind her bookcase; his first appearance will be perfectly dramatic. Makes her ridiculously excited to see him step out behind the moving bookcase, all in his glory and secrecy.
  5. Ay, I remember you!! Welcome back!
  6. Welcome to Valucre!! 

    1. Blackguard

      Blackguard

      Thankee-sai!

  7. Aleksei

    General chat thread

    YES. They make my heart sad >D
  8. Aleksei

    General chat thread

    Watching makeup videos really soothes my soul.
  9. "Rafael!" It had taken some time for the air to return to her lungs, so shocked she was by his random appearance. Oly was sure her mind had played a trick on her, but when he spoke and then extended his hand, she was convinced that he was very much real. In an instant, she was on her feet and throwing her arms around him, giving the gentleman a rib breaking hug before pushing him to arm's length. "Look at you!" The girl turned woman reached forward and pressed her hands against his cheeks; her fingers spread, feeling the coarseness of his luxurious beard that strangely fit his face perfectly. She would keep her opinion to herself, for now, but she preferred his face clean-shaven, especially since the current beams of moonlight would have highlighted the peaks of cheekbones and the curve of his extreme jawline. His beard intrigued her curious fingers that roamed from cheek to jaw - the coarseness, the oddness of its fit, the change it made. The topography of his features has changed, forcing the young woman to realize (momentarily) that he too has grown. Still, out of all the hearts she has loved, his is the only that makes her smile. "How dare you grow up!" Her hands glide across his shoulders and down his arms to grab his hands, where they would be occupied, allowing her eyes to roam. Being naturally tall herself, it is a tad daunting to be able to look at the man almost eye to eye instead of peeking at his figure behind his father's legs. Even here though, he is a monolith whose shadow protects her from the sun and provides her company in times of loneliness. "Time has fit you well, Rafael. Blue eyes? Tsk, tsk, tsk," she let a single hand go to tap him playfully on the nose. "How are we poor humans supposed to ignore you when you look like you've been shaped from moonlight - stars in your hair, sunset in your eyes?" Unfortunately, Olympia has her mother's colorful tongue and not at all her father's tact. She spoke to him as one would a friend, and not the damned abomination he is said to be. How could she? Here he stands, meeting her at midnight in the forest of her dreams, looking at her with the same sweetness like from before. Another weakness Connor exploited: weak-kneed and weak-willed and soft-hearted. There was too much sunlight within her soul, someone had told her; she could never hold herself above the lessers, someone criticized. It's not that they were wrong opinions, it is just they had come from very vicious points of view. Fully releasing him, she laughed to remove the sourness rising within her. "And what am I doing here? What are you doing here! How did you get here? Why are you here?"
  10. Aleksei

    Soon you'll see

    @Tyler "Soon, I will witness my people withdraw from their religious beliefs and be limited to perform immense magical feats." Primera allowed the conversation to idle there when the ruckus down below picked up in tempo. Relaxing a bit, she tips her head to the side to listen in on what is being proposed between the individuals at the table. This kind of drama is fascinating to her as it kept you on your toes, you don't know if someone is going to concede peacefully or if someone is going to end up getting shot in the end. Her council was not as lively as this one, and it made her wonder why. In the end, Milorian's proposal had her turning her blind gaze downwards. The body of government he had suggested was painfully close to what Renovatio has. It has always been that way back home; they were never given a reason to change the government, especially since none of the bodies on the council have done anything against the people. Well, there was that one time, but it was that one person some years ago and they had been acting mostly alone. Other than that small blemish, the sovereign and council have worked together seamlessly, giving her a somewhat privileged life. "I can praise such a system," she said, tapping her chin. "Though, Renovatio has never had a situation where a Grand Kommadant, Sovereign, or council member needed to be removed from power." Not until herself, that is. She understands her plans mean going against the very heart of what keeps her people functioning, and it will mar her name further, but the benefits outweigh the risk. "Well, things have certainly taken a turn." Her comment was on the gentleman leaving the council with all the flare and kindness of a gentleman. "What do you think of this meeting so far, Joseph?"
  11. 100000 years later, I POSTED.

    1. Dolor Aeternum
    2. Pasion Pasiva

      Pasion Pasiva

      You coming to the wedding, Jose? ?

    3. Dolor Aeternum

      Dolor Aeternum

      Send the invitation and I'll be there ?

    4. Show next comments  15 more
  12. Aleksei

    Time will tell

    Precipice indeed. Giving a small nod, he cast his vote. "I am comfortable with Lady Karradeen's compromise."
  13. @Chappu @Garion She refrained from saying 'Of course!' to his evaluation of her appearance. What else would she be but a beautiful bauble on his decorated arm? The woman has learned they will work just fine together if they are given an item they both can agree on. Other than that, she may have opinions that would clash with her newly acquired husband, and if she were outspoken such views may prompt him to be more loving towards her. She can't risk this man getting any closer than he already has, not when she knows what their marriage entails. For the moment, he will be trusted to have her attached on his arm, leaving her to remain a figure of perfection by his side comfortably. His comment on the airship had the woman smirking; Alfonso is the mastermind behind such creations, not her. What she cares for is the flow of money, the hands they will shake, the appearances they will make, and other kinds of silliness that will keep them in high standing. She is more than happy to stand at his side or even behind him if it meant giving her freedom over their finances. Always being quick minded when it came to numbers, she felt more comfortable and more confident when in front of a ledger. So unlike here, during a festival in a land she should be interested in but is not. Whatever political underhandedness he wants to pill out is up to him and none of her business, unless he wants it to be. Being ignorant and blind to the background events made it easier to live life comfortably, she doesn't want to worry what his actions may play in the long run. If anything, she would rather not worry about the gentleman's well-being at all. Friends, they may have been as children, they are no longer that, and it keeps a thin wall between herself and him. Their marriage is one of convenience, a convenience she plans on keeping well kindled. "Ah, but I do so love you wrapping people around your finger love. I've not the skill to make women's knees melt and young men envious." Then the pair was approached by a gentleman that smelled like brimstone and pride. He preoccupied her husband with talks of exotic lands and native tongues, leaving her to be a delicate bystander as the two went on about their business. She was comfortable looking about, looking ever the whole part of a fragile woman that has always lived beneath an ironed roof above her head. She would have been perfectly content to stay in her place while the men enjoyed their conversation, but then an opportunity was presented to Alfonso. Glued to his side once more, Atarah leaned in close to whisper to her husband. "See? You do fine just on your own."
  14. Killian's yawn was interrupted by an intruding elbow being shoved into his side. It is not his fault his company barely stopped to rest, pushing the gentleman to his limits and furthering, limiting his ability to be any part of a respectable Seeker. All he wanted was a few hours to get his life together, but the woman refused, and he is in absolutely no position to go against the Grand Master. They both were given their orders, and much more is placed upon her shoulders than his own, being he is far more replaceable than Delaney, and this situation is more personal to her than himself. Austere's lovely wife Odelia is the reason the two Seekers find themselves approaching the house. Killian was given only the bare minimum, forcing him to understand that this is a dangerous situation that needs a severe mind to get down to business here. While his opinions about the Uldwar House is weak, it has little to do about the deaths of the Mythals and some such; it was just a matter how the House is a rather terrible failure in comparison to the rest. An unfortunate circumstance as the Uldwar House is a powerful creation that is full of potential; he would like to see something good come out of it. Something good has to come out of this mess. Bright blue eyes took in their surroundings, while he trailed some feet behind Delaney. All around them, people were running about as if they had been threatened with beheading if they did not look busy. For a second he felt like they were back at the Free Marches where the people were always moving around, trying to stay active or at least look it, but they were happier than the people here. "We are here on behalf of Odelia Mythal, wife of Austere Mythal." Delaney spoke to whoever looked like they were in charge or had some semblance of power that would get them inside the home. Killian stood behind the other Seeker, towering over the small woman who looked ready to move mountains and part seas.
  15. "Oh, that's not very fair, though! I could go on for days about myself. Like my perfect teeth or how my hair is far more luxurious than necessary or my immaculate taste in fashion." She went to mention Harshal; the sound of the man's name made the Maharaja pause and listened intently. "Mm, yes. I know Harshal a great deal." He savored his moment of remembrance as he revisits the day he had sent Shanti and Hashal out into the real world to discover anything that would help Kalopsia. At the time, Desmond was out of his mind drunk and going through minor withdrawals - been two hours since he had drugged himself to numbness, which had been far too long for his body to handle completely. Years and years of playing his part of the all-together Prince, no one had noticed his failings except for a few who chose to yell at him in private instead of making a complete scene. Harshal was a nosey man who felt that the throne was being corrupted with Desmond sitting upon it. There was no way he could deny such an opinion, for it wasn't that far from the truth as a whole. Thankfully, after a significant conversation that brought Desmond into minor sobriety, the two hated each other less. "I chose him and a woman named Shanti to see if they could find anything that may help create a cure for my dying people. He is a respectable young man, one I wouldn't wish too much harm upon." The young man rubbed his jaw, his smile holding a secret memory. "It's good to hear that he is making friends along the way." Unable to beat around the bush for much longer, he relents under her interested gaze and nods. Ghouls, yes, terrible creatures that are just part of Kalopsia as much as the moon and stars are part of the sky. Getting rid of them is a pain and an impossible task, one he has picked up the second he took the throne. Nothing is impossible, he tells himself, repeating the words of his father, who still lurks in the background. "Terrible creatures with so many stories attached to them, I can't tell you what they are without going in circles. I will try though," he said, knowing she was willing to go on the journey with him. "It is said that ghouls are some form of the Great Beast, and the Great Beast if the creature killed by the All-Creator - Kalopsia's main God. So they are the evil that is spread through this land, and if you are bitten or scratched by one of these creatures, you are doomed. Slowly you will turn into a ghoul, and there is no turning back." He stopped and leaned forward, tapping his company on the nose with the tip of his finger. "You come here to visit me, and we talk about other subjects. What has you so interested?"
  16. Delphine took a moment to enjoy a little sleep herself. As they waited for the island to make its reappearance, the elf took comfort in the arms of Grant and rested. For her, it was the very same; she felt comfortable and safe enough that her rest was not interrupted with memories of her past. She didn't even visit the halls of dreams where one wanders about as their physical form is left in the real world. Years in slavery, the Halls were what helped her remain grounded and hopeful that she will either be saved or die painlessly in her terrible predicament. When she awoke to the birth of the island, the only thing that pained her were her hands. She figures this to be some sort of phantom remembrance of the time they had been burned, and somewhere in her conscious, her body was forcing her to remember that terrible moment. "Well, I suppose we have at least twelve hours to burn before we have to worry about getting off the island." Standing up, she stretched and then rubbed her hands. They've shown they can work well together, pairing their abilities to their greatest advantage while respecting each other's survival skills. It's an appreciated piece to their relationship, and she is happy that she's seen their assets in play, but she will be glad to be sailing away from the island with success trailing them. This is an adventure she won't forget and one she will be more than happy never to revisit. Checking that all things are in their place, she grabs Grant by the hand and smiles. "I suppose here we go. Try not to fall apart on me up there, okay?" In the blink of an eye, the two were transported to the island. They were welcomed by the usual cacophony of birds chirping, random animals thrashing through the trees, and the general buzz of insects. The feel of magic made her shudder uncomfortably; there is an abundance of strangeness to this island, and it is playing with her magical abilities in a way she can't describe. Here she won't be able to push too far to reach the pinnacle of her skills, but that is a rather dangerous kind of game she isn't willing to play when time is not on their side. "Alright, my illustrious leader lead the way."
  17. He linked their arms again, ensuring that she would not slip or at least not slip by herself. Together they wandered down the busy street, preoccupied with each other and nothing else outside their growing conversation. Austere was enjoying the way she struggles with her emotions; the uncertainty was rather becoming as it exemplified her honesty - something he found to be profound. Odelia hadn't been the first choice for a wife, there had been others, but their attempts at flattery and coyness did little to entertain him. In a moment, such charms would be becoming, but over time, he knew he would not have the patience for it. Gratefully, Odelia does not need to charm him nor play games to grab his attention. Being her was simple enough to make him feel comfortable within her presence and soon her entire life. "Well considering your upbringing, I would say what you did was mature. Others would have rebelled in more grander ways, like running away to join the pirates or becoming just as destructive as the person keeping them down." He wondered if his siblings had ever wanted to run away or at least do something different than their predestined path. Milorian never thought he would become Lord of their House, but when the opportunity was presented to him, he took it without complaint. Austere could say he was completely comfortable with who he is and where he is, plus he knew that Milo would trust no one else but Austere to play his second. Noting her silence, he looked down with a curious perk to his brow. At first, he didn't understand why she was silent all of a sudden; then it dawned on him. Patting her hand, he guided her to a store he picked out earlier, silencing her worry. Austere may not know the full extent of how badly she was beaten and tortured in her home; he will never see her as damaged goods or less of a person because of her father's faults. He won't make her pay for the man's disgusting behavior, and he will show her that all men are not him, that the elf should not be punished for the habits of another individual. "I love chocolate," he said, releasing her arm to wander the candy store. "Anything sour is also a delight." The store was something from a dream. Moths of various colors flutter about, creating trails of fairy dust to linger in the air wherever they zipped around. Polished counters of wood with carvings depicting stories of fairies, pixies, and other fantastic forest creatures. Rows of various candies for them to pick from were labeled, showing their ingredients that may have been odd to some: bark, sap, flowers. "I ate an entire bag of chocolates once that I got so sick, I had to stay in bed for a week. And I'll tell you right now," he points a finger at her, "I'd do it again."
  18. The little one was quiet, a strange change to one so full of curiosity that nearly spills from her very being. She had wanted to see the whole goings on due to the hum about the ceremony. There was so much to be said about it, making the adults get all dressed up in celebration and the commoners itch with anticipation. There was absolutely no way she was going to allow her father just to enjoy this moment without her being there, not when she can learn so much about these parties adults fear and enjoy so much. Within the shadows, the little one lurked, weaving through the legs of bystanders and slipping by hovering forms with too much ease. Not a day of training, but already she was allowing the natural flow of the world around her to push and pull her. The intricacies of what she is have made the little one aware of how much of the worlds magic and life flows through her, but the understanding of such eludes her sweet mind. What matters, according to her mother, is how wide she smiles, how loud she laughs, and how proud she makes her father. Everything else will come in time, and with that in mind, there is no need to rush to become a more magnificent piece to the puzzle that's her family lineage. Beside him, the shadows shift to reveal the delicate form of Kaori who had a ready smile pasted on her face. Dressed appropriately for a child with high honors attached to her name, and not like a child who had rolled in mud hours before or stomped through flower gardens chasing frogs. Grabbing handfuls of the delicate fabric, the child climbed into her father's lap with as much grace as a toddler can ever muster. The flower charms attached to the pin in her hair swung back and forth, creating a small tune as she gets comfortable in her proclaimed seat. "Pèrtè!" The Renovatian word for Father slid past her lips with ease, and the proud achievement was exemplified by a small giggle followed by a kiss to her father's cheek. Celine had been teaching her both languages, but Kaori found the Renovatian lilt to be more fun in comparison to her father's language. He had yet to say anything about what he'd prefer her to say, what language would better her as his child and make him proud, so she followed her mother's advice under otherwise told. Happy, the toddler sat up to look over the edge of the balcony. The entire scene of wonderment was unfolding before her, yet the little one did not appear at all interested in any of it. Maybe living a rather luxurious life has dampened her excitement towards anything this grand, or perhaps her childish mind was far too occupied by something else. When she found what she was looking for, her honey-colored eyes became bright, and the excitement she had withheld was soon released. "Ozu! Ozu!" She waved her arms excitedly, thinking he'd see her wave at him with all her might.
  19. Nope. My post is done, I will be posting it later today.
  20. "Absolutely not! I am delighted you are enjoying yourself and giving me a lesson in all of ... this." He gave her nose a gentle tap before he pretended to be interested in the plants and flowers inhabiting the shop. The Free Marches are full of glorious greenery such as all this, but he had never been drawn to learn about any of them to a far extent. He can appreciate a pretty flower though and enjoy the way a vine wraps itself around anything within its reach; beyond all that, he would rather chart stars or decipher runes - annoying things, he has been told. Odelia's interest and evident love for the plants did keep him interested enough to listen and enjoy her overall excitement. "My mother has a gigantic garden that no one is allowed to even look at," he said, running the tip of his finger across a leaf of an unruly plant. "She is very protective of her creation and for a fair reason." Milorian and Odelia will get along well, for he shares her interest. The rest of the Mythal children would instead roll in the mud than learn what it's capable of. "Soleil had cut an entire corner of her garden and gave the flowers to Marina - his then love interest, later wife." The elf paused, his smile peppered with a little bit of sadness as the memories flood him. Talking about the past often shoved him back into those moments; he could hear his mother yelling at Soleil, his brother crumbling and apologizing pitifully to make up for what he thought was a great idea. At the time Milorian was just a tot, hiding behind his mother's legs while looking up at his older brother getting in trouble. The image warms his heart as he forgets his youngest sibling used to be so small, quiet, and timid. So unlike now, where he's tall and sour looking. Perhaps that is why Austere is annoyed about all the infighting happening amongst brothers. There was a point in their lives when they got along. "You are clearly knowledgable about plants and flowers, may I ask why? What is the root of your skills?"
  21. Delphine smiled, leaning back against his chest as she took refuge in his hold. She was happy that he had a seemingly soundless sleep, she had made sure to pay attention just in case he found himself trapped in a nightmare so she could come to his side. The elf understands the restlessness as she also suffers from dream-filled sleep where her failures are thrown into her face, reminding her of the pains she had suffered. She is ready to ensure Grant is given the simplicities of life he so deserves, protecting him and his dreams are the responsibility of her's now. Thankfully, the entire hour, he had slept peacefully, leaving her to guide them to their final destination without interruption. "If this is how I'm to be greeted every time you wake up, I may have to visit you more often." She giggled when he kissed her neck, loving the feel of his facial hair tickling her skin and the curve of his lips when he kisses her. The gentleman has officially burned his touch into her memory and skin, leaving her in a wanton state. "That is a little ... disconcerting." Docking the ship close, she wandered across the deck to stare at the space where the island just was. Pirates, floating islands that disappear - what else are they going to find? Unicorns that are part mermaid? Maybe flowers that talk? She would be pleased to witness such wonderous things, but she dislikes surprises in a big way. "Now the question is: is it still there, or has it gone to a different dimension?" The latter makes her feel a bit uncomfortable, knowing that all sorts of silliness can happen if such. Parts of Kalopsia do this same disappearing act, but the areas are thrown back into a pocket dimension that is decades behind the current Kalopsia. In that time, people were treated differently, acted differently, and were overall more terrible than they are now. She wonders if this will be the same thing and if so, hopefully, she will be well prepared to revisit those kinds of terrors.
  22. They say mountains do not bend a knee to the wind, but Lemoine can say that it is not always so. When he fell to his knees before her with sparks covering his words, she was at a loss for in these very moments; she was reminded of the loss that had twice rendered her weak. This mighty creation of a man was crumbling at her feet, his kisses were seeping into the wrinkled wear of her clothing, and his words were running across her cold skin like his fingers used to do in moments of sweetness and heat. Her mountain is at her feet, sobbing for the loss of his starlight and summer breeze. She did not fall in love with him. If she remembers correctly, she had walked into love with him when he had leaned down to whisper in her ear, instantly creating an air of conspiracy many women were craving that night. With eyes wide open, she chose to take every step by his side, not at all believing that it had been fate or destiny that glued her to his side. It had been a need deeply rooted inside her soul; a need not for survival, but for something that makes life worth living. Without knowing she had found it - simply put - in him. No, she did not fall in love with him - they were drowning in it the moment they had met. The tiny woman joined him on the ground, with her hands resting comfortably against his cold cheeks that have risen in laughter and smiles so many times in her company. He was not going to deny her anymore, not now when he has returned to her in all his beautiful glory, not when she needs him the most. No, her yearning and hurt will not allow him to run away from her again, she absolutely will not let this fantastic creature run from her touch. Before answering him, she pulls his face close and plants her lips against his, inhaling the smoke and feeling the burn spread through her body. At the first touch of his lips against her own, Lemoine thought all her senses had flown. She felt only his lips, his body next to hers, experiencing him all over again after so long. She slanted her head to the side and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and closer to her. Their kisses and touches were what she loved most about them, how easily they could lose themselves in each other over and over, and still never finding an end to the passion. Now, with the stars blinking above them and the ocean singing around them, after months and months of not a word spoken between them, she found herself at peace between the kisses and tears. "We don't know. Some months in ... something just happened, Lucis." She rests her forehead against his, their noses barely touching; her breath warm when she speaks of their loss. The ache embedded deep within her small heart was slowly unraveling now that she had him in her arms, telling him of their child who is peacefully resting in the heavens. "I should have done more to find you to tell you about what had happened. A letter or someone else delivering the message felt wrong; you deserved to hear it from me." Her tears fall delicately down her face, gathering ever so slightly atop the line of her curved lips. She is crying for them both. "I couldn't let someone else tell you, Lucis. It felt wrong and disgusting, but I was too weak .... too weak to do anything but pray you'd come back. I was going to search for you; I didn't care how long it'd take me or where my search would take me." Pulling back, she gives him a watery smile while running her thumb across his cheek. "But I also wanted to thank you for giving me something magical beyond comprehension. Then drag you back home - be it in a cave or the forest forever, it would have been home."
  23. Falling a tad behind on my end! Rainy season in Florida = Terrified child = A need for constant snuggles. I'm just getting my hands back, so I'll have some posts flowing out.
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