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I had a dream about a burnin' house - Printable Version +- Court of the Fallen (https://cotf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +--- Forum: Important (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27) +---- Forum: Archives (https://cotf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=38) +---- Thread: I had a dream about a burnin' house (/showthread.php?tid=12336) Pages:
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RE: I had a dream about a burnin' house - Colt - 01-15-2026 That he's untouchable is no surprise—he's always been that way, really. This is just the most obvious display, clearly marking how little she can reach him. The full weight of that realization, along with no real desire to strike him, burns her out fast enough to leave her standing there, just breathing after the smoke. Her sides ache with the effort of it, a fleeting tremble running over her ribs. The more she attempts to regather herself from behind the burn, the more breathless she becomes. The attempt to hold an unwavering stare with him is meant to be proof she can still stand this close and not be hurt, but it's a lie that neither of them seem to believe. He softens, and that, much like the small extensions of his dusk to her matches, devastates her more thoroughly than anything else. Her gaze breaks to the side, gulping down composure. She smooths her palms across her pants, fingers too stiff to even touch the fabric. [say]"Yeah,"[/say] she barely manages to say, throat working hard to swallow. [say]"You're right."[/say] Because nothing ever works once someone's given up. His words carry the least amount of barbs yet, but they manage to do plenty of damage just the same. She's no idea what her intentions had been, descending those stairs and coming down here to him—something that felt better than what he'd left her with already. Certainly it hadn't been to stand here and break apart even further, but she's managed to put pressure on everything that's already cracked like it's a surprise that it can keep spiderwebbing out. Catching the inside of her lip in her teeth, she glances at the boot on the ground, which seems that's the only thing left to recover here. She reaches for it, movements staying small and tight, like getting dressed on a cold morning. She slides her wet sock into it, stepping up without looking a him again. She doesn't reach for fire this time, just climbs the stairs and departs, stride a little uneven from the dampness that goes with her. [FIN] |