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Location: Southern Plateau - Dundas Island, Pacific Ocean
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Welcome Home #1.092: Supermassive Black Hole
Interaction(s): @Rockette - Amma Cahors, @Melissa - Aurora Mitchell
Previously: Howlin' For You
"Do you feel better now?"
The question itself was like a knife, it was thrust into his chest like an opportunistic assassin disappearing into the crowd while Lorcán was left to bleed out. The multitude of students continued about their meal and conversations, oblivious to the wounded boy left fending for his life.
Stumbling away from Haven, Lorcán couldn’t stop his eyes following Amma. Watching her sneakers trod away on the grass, her long pale legs seemed to endlessly climb to a slender torso gifted with curves in all the right places. Her cropped sweater revealed those beckoning tattoos that appeared to reach out towards Lorcán, those tentacles threatening to pull him into her shorts, burying him beneath her toned navel while the beetle crawled down his throat, consuming his last breaths.
Mumured rumours and mocking laughter bit at the back of Lorcán’s head. His fiery eyes darted from side to side, looking for the source of the voices, but there was nothing, the whispers were fleeting, evaporating as his molton gaze fell upon them.
Lorcán turned again, swearing he had heard a voice crawling over his shoulder before its seething tone breathed hotly into his ear.
It gnawed at his earlobe, a tingle of anticipation running the length of his body leaving every hair erect and stiffened with excitement. Intrusive thoughts filled his mind as he surveyed the campsite seeing only tinder and chaff where he ought to see friends and colleagues. The fire flared momentarily as he closed his fists, turning to look at Amma again as the wind howled through the Hype-made cliffs.
A primal call, but was it mating or war?
Bodies wrestling in the shroud of darkness, scratching, piercing, sucking and pleading. As the horizon suffocated the setting sun, so too, did the darkness drive Lorcán deeper into disparaging thoughts and further distanced from his friends. Something was inside him now that wasn’t there before. Something festering and growing, eroding with each ebb and flow of the storm that was Lorcán’s emotions. The tide was coming in, washing away the torn-up beach and revealing a new layer of sediment beneath the trampled surface. The old was smoothed away, replaced by something new, something identical but different.
But through the storm cut a blazing ray of warm light and the clouds parted before dissipating. The bathing warmth of copper spilled over Lorcán’s view as brilliant sapphire whirlpools softened his heart, relaxing his hands and a calm washed away the storm inside. Smoked-filled visions of ruins fell away from his eyes like the scales of a blind man gifted his sight. Kindling became kin and kindred souls alike as Lorcán was transported from the darkness directly into the light.
“-eat that?” Cassander asked again, this time giving Lorcán a playful elbow to the ribs as the latter dropped the plate laden with an untouched taco until his lap with a startled jump.
“Bro, what?” The daze still had a firm hold on Lorcán as he looked around, unaware of when he had made it back to his seat. His eyes drifted to Aurora and an involuntary smile floated on his lips.
“The taco,” Cassander repeated for a third time. “Are you going to eat the taco? I can’t abide wasted food, man.”
“Go to town, dude,” Lorcán nonchalantly replied before handing the plate over and looking towards Aurora again. He still needed to talk to her, but he didn’t want to do so in front of everyone, yet it might be better to rip that bandaid off before they were in the tent together.
A Westerly chinook blew through the campsite, Lorcán silently cursing the ethereal forces over the warm wind. A cold night might have enticed Aurora to come closer and find herself in his embrace. Standing once again, Lorcán conspicuously inconspicuously made his way towards the empty seat beside Aurora before sitting down and picking up a stick topped with a marshmallow.
“Can I introduce you in your usual shade of golden, Lady Dude?” Lorcán asked while playfully twirling the gelatinous treat on the stick.
“I missed you this afternoon, Rora, and you know I can’t stand to see you sitting here looking so sad, Lady so this guy right here figured what better to cheer up the Lady Dude than s’more marshed mallow on a stick pressed onto chocolate and graham cracker.”
The question itself was like a knife, it was thrust into his chest like an opportunistic assassin disappearing into the crowd while Lorcán was left to bleed out. The multitude of students continued about their meal and conversations, oblivious to the wounded boy left fending for his life.
Stumbling away from Haven, Lorcán couldn’t stop his eyes following Amma. Watching her sneakers trod away on the grass, her long pale legs seemed to endlessly climb to a slender torso gifted with curves in all the right places. Her cropped sweater revealed those beckoning tattoos that appeared to reach out towards Lorcán, those tentacles threatening to pull him into her shorts, burying him beneath her toned navel while the beetle crawled down his throat, consuming his last breaths.
Mumured rumours and mocking laughter bit at the back of Lorcán’s head. His fiery eyes darted from side to side, looking for the source of the voices, but there was nothing, the whispers were fleeting, evaporating as his molton gaze fell upon them.
Burn them all.
Lorcán turned again, swearing he had heard a voice crawling over his shoulder before its seething tone breathed hotly into his ear.
Burn them all.
It gnawed at his earlobe, a tingle of anticipation running the length of his body leaving every hair erect and stiffened with excitement. Intrusive thoughts filled his mind as he surveyed the campsite seeing only tinder and chaff where he ought to see friends and colleagues. The fire flared momentarily as he closed his fists, turning to look at Amma again as the wind howled through the Hype-made cliffs.
A primal call, but was it mating or war?
Bodies wrestling in the shroud of darkness, scratching, piercing, sucking and pleading. As the horizon suffocated the setting sun, so too, did the darkness drive Lorcán deeper into disparaging thoughts and further distanced from his friends. Something was inside him now that wasn’t there before. Something festering and growing, eroding with each ebb and flow of the storm that was Lorcán’s emotions. The tide was coming in, washing away the torn-up beach and revealing a new layer of sediment beneath the trampled surface. The old was smoothed away, replaced by something new, something identical but different.
But through the storm cut a blazing ray of warm light and the clouds parted before dissipating. The bathing warmth of copper spilled over Lorcán’s view as brilliant sapphire whirlpools softened his heart, relaxing his hands and a calm washed away the storm inside. Smoked-filled visions of ruins fell away from his eyes like the scales of a blind man gifted his sight. Kindling became kin and kindred souls alike as Lorcán was transported from the darkness directly into the light.
“-eat that?” Cassander asked again, this time giving Lorcán a playful elbow to the ribs as the latter dropped the plate laden with an untouched taco until his lap with a startled jump.
“Bro, what?” The daze still had a firm hold on Lorcán as he looked around, unaware of when he had made it back to his seat. His eyes drifted to Aurora and an involuntary smile floated on his lips.
“The taco,” Cassander repeated for a third time. “Are you going to eat the taco? I can’t abide wasted food, man.”
“Go to town, dude,” Lorcán nonchalantly replied before handing the plate over and looking towards Aurora again. He still needed to talk to her, but he didn’t want to do so in front of everyone, yet it might be better to rip that bandaid off before they were in the tent together.
A Westerly chinook blew through the campsite, Lorcán silently cursing the ethereal forces over the warm wind. A cold night might have enticed Aurora to come closer and find herself in his embrace. Standing once again, Lorcán conspicuously inconspicuously made his way towards the empty seat beside Aurora before sitting down and picking up a stick topped with a marshmallow.
“Can I introduce you in your usual shade of golden, Lady Dude?” Lorcán asked while playfully twirling the gelatinous treat on the stick.
“I missed you this afternoon, Rora, and you know I can’t stand to see you sitting here looking so sad, Lady so this guy right here figured what better to cheer up the Lady Dude than s’more marshed mallow on a stick pressed onto chocolate and graham cracker.”