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knights around a round table ; brad & mav day 1
Oct 17, 2024 14:16:54 GMT -5
Post by [nyte] on Oct 17, 2024 14:16:54 GMT -5
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[attr="class","mavText2"]They've turned these fields into a ghost town as if there were ever any life to haunt them. We pick a path through the ravaged lands, I call out to Brad every so often, when ruins creep up with edges that I worry will catch his careless steps. Cloth hangs in tatters on rotting stands, flapping in the breeze kicked up by our motion.
We breath life into dead air and I feel like that should mean something.
Instead my muscles ache from being tensed, I've ground my teeth into a migraine fervor. There's a bruise from where August knocked me down as we scrambled over each other out of the bloodbath but every other pain is of my own making. I keep waiting for Andromache to stick a knife between my ribs. If she'd be willing to give me a quick, clean death at all.
I keep turning the stones I found in the pond over in my hands. There's nothing special about them, I don't think, but the weight provides some comfort. Maybe they're lucky, "Brad." I whisper, tugging on the tail of hem of his shirt. Feeling a little like I'm reigning in a horse and it's cart as I wait for him to fall a few steps behind the girls.
"I have a present for you."
And he's so excited and nervous that I almost think better of this stupid gesture altogether ("-but I don't have a present for you.")
"Just make it up to me later." I kiss the pebble I'd been holding a slip it into his pocket, "It's a good luck stone. I think. Or, well, I've decided it's one." I hold up mine, "We've both got one now. Always connected."
And then my cheeks are hot and a cold sweat sticks to the back of my neck. I can't look him in the eye so I rush a few paces away instead.
Which, of course, gives him just enough time to wander off.
Toward a sword and a stone - ("Fabulous Cabulous of Rubbleous uh- Arena- ous- ness. Thee Almighty?") - and maybe I shouldn't have given him a pet rock.
Still, I run my fingers over the hilt, curious in spite of all my effort not to be.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Pull it!" I tug on it for emphasis.
We breath life into dead air and I feel like that should mean something.
Instead my muscles ache from being tensed, I've ground my teeth into a migraine fervor. There's a bruise from where August knocked me down as we scrambled over each other out of the bloodbath but every other pain is of my own making. I keep waiting for Andromache to stick a knife between my ribs. If she'd be willing to give me a quick, clean death at all.
I keep turning the stones I found in the pond over in my hands. There's nothing special about them, I don't think, but the weight provides some comfort. Maybe they're lucky, "Brad." I whisper, tugging on the tail of hem of his shirt. Feeling a little like I'm reigning in a horse and it's cart as I wait for him to fall a few steps behind the girls.
"I have a present for you."
And he's so excited and nervous that I almost think better of this stupid gesture altogether ("-but I don't have a present for you.")
"Just make it up to me later." I kiss the pebble I'd been holding a slip it into his pocket, "It's a good luck stone. I think. Or, well, I've decided it's one." I hold up mine, "We've both got one now. Always connected."
And then my cheeks are hot and a cold sweat sticks to the back of my neck. I can't look him in the eye so I rush a few paces away instead.
Which, of course, gives him just enough time to wander off.
Toward a sword and a stone - ("Fabulous Cabulous of Rubbleous uh- Arena- ous- ness. Thee Almighty?") - and maybe I shouldn't have given him a pet rock.
Still, I run my fingers over the hilt, curious in spite of all my effort not to be.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Pull it!" I tug on it for emphasis.
