Post by max on Mar 4, 2010 22:14:36 GMT 10
Title: Radiance
Rating: G
Length: 372
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2/A
Summary: Blah. I lost my coffee plunger. I am filtering my coffee with a soup spoon. Anywho, beaches and stuff. OOC but I’ll actually think before I post tomorrow.
…
She could grow to love it here, she thinks, this valley mouth, this perfectly shaped cove where Neal has lived all his life.
And now Yuki lives here too.
The small beach is too rocky to be any kind of base from which to attack the enormous coastal power which is the Queenscove citadel, just big enough to fit their picnicking party between boulders and soft golden sand, and Kel is exhausted, covered in salt, absorbing the last rays of the sun while Yuki and Neal lie together whispering and Shinko and Roald make a sand castle and Seaver sketches everything, except for Faleron, because he is now a barely visible dot on the horizon, made smaller by the vastness of water and the sun, shining upon the sea in a blinding pathway of light and indigo ocean, and as someone dryly says ‘We should probably get him before he swims to the Copper Isles. If he’s that desperate to go, there are ships now...’
And she finds herself, madly, thinking this is why he has stayed out there all along as, in breeches and breastband, she swims out to him.
He is lying on his back, eyes open to the beauty of the world-from-water; the sky an enormous bowl – golden in the west, fading into periwinkle blue across the land, and when he sees her he smiles, his hair all slicked off his face by water, and there is something so innocent and yet sensual about the look that she finds herself surprised by how beautiful he is, how she has only realised it since the end of the war, how incomprehensible it seems that she spent so many years in a world without this boy on the cusp of manhood, who says ‘I was hoping it was you,’ treading water, illuminated in that pathway of light by the last rays of the sun, and before she knows what she is doing, she has said ‘You’re very beautiful,’ in a wondering way (later, she blames the salt for turning her northerner’s head) but he only closes his eyes at the clumsy declaration, says,
‘So are you,’ as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
And, really, it is.
Rating: G
Length: 372
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2/A
Summary: Blah. I lost my coffee plunger. I am filtering my coffee with a soup spoon. Anywho, beaches and stuff. OOC but I’ll actually think before I post tomorrow.
…
She could grow to love it here, she thinks, this valley mouth, this perfectly shaped cove where Neal has lived all his life.
And now Yuki lives here too.
The small beach is too rocky to be any kind of base from which to attack the enormous coastal power which is the Queenscove citadel, just big enough to fit their picnicking party between boulders and soft golden sand, and Kel is exhausted, covered in salt, absorbing the last rays of the sun while Yuki and Neal lie together whispering and Shinko and Roald make a sand castle and Seaver sketches everything, except for Faleron, because he is now a barely visible dot on the horizon, made smaller by the vastness of water and the sun, shining upon the sea in a blinding pathway of light and indigo ocean, and as someone dryly says ‘We should probably get him before he swims to the Copper Isles. If he’s that desperate to go, there are ships now...’
And she finds herself, madly, thinking this is why he has stayed out there all along as, in breeches and breastband, she swims out to him.
He is lying on his back, eyes open to the beauty of the world-from-water; the sky an enormous bowl – golden in the west, fading into periwinkle blue across the land, and when he sees her he smiles, his hair all slicked off his face by water, and there is something so innocent and yet sensual about the look that she finds herself surprised by how beautiful he is, how she has only realised it since the end of the war, how incomprehensible it seems that she spent so many years in a world without this boy on the cusp of manhood, who says ‘I was hoping it was you,’ treading water, illuminated in that pathway of light by the last rays of the sun, and before she knows what she is doing, she has said ‘You’re very beautiful,’ in a wondering way (later, she blames the salt for turning her northerner’s head) but he only closes his eyes at the clumsy declaration, says,
‘So are you,’ as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
And, really, it is.