dragoness
she/her
twenty-seven
November 03
sootopolis
demisexual
councilwoman
ace
i got new love, new skin to wrap myself in
fever pitch [c]
POSTED ON Sept 8, 2020 16:32:18 GMT
[attr="class","freypost"]she lives in daydreams. she lives touching the skin of another, ghosts running under her fingertips, just the water beneath her, her own reflection. is that her? her eyes are slate-gray, red-amber, slit like a snake's. snake crawling through the grass, around her neck, tightening and tightening, a noose of her own making.
moxie apologizes with a flick of her tongue. trauma does that to a creature. makes them lash out when they least expect it.
she has two eyes, one eye, a limp that sends shudders up her spine. she doesn't yet remember walking the perimeter of the less-than-quarter-mile-slice-of-nowhere that she resides on.
she settles into the earth, where she first made love to the only person who's ever mattered to her in this world. dirt under her fingernails, grass ripped up around her.
she remembers her saying, "this place is a curse. nothing grows."
so where they once lay, she razes the earth. a dragon at her side, belching flames until exhaustion overtook the both of them. smoking, salt-ridden, wet earth. the smell still burns her nose, but she rolls in it, paints her arms black with the soot-dirt, until her skin cracks and the rivulets her tears make resemble a river of blood.
she drowns herself by the shoreline, hauled by tooth and nail from the relentless waves by traitors she can't stomach to look at. they circle the island, angel sharks that won't let her do the deed she must to finally be at peace.
she carves words into the earth and into her own skin and she ponders her continued existence. because she is a fighter by nature, despite her resistance, and she convinces herself that her own mutilation will bring her clarity. and it does, for a while--pushes away the clouds before they can suffocate her again. before she's back combing the little beach, looking for driftwood or messages in bottles.
lyune is standing beside her when she sees a shape over the horizon. and flames pour from both their mouths, a blind sort of fury, predatory hackles rising at anyone who might take away their isle of destruction. her knuckles curl.
aeris and sypha, sage twins who believe their master still hasn't been swallowed wholly, fully, who think there is still some chance of saving, lead this shadow to the island.
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