#skybreakr

[demainvient]

we should get somewhere safe first.

even though she's right, they can't find it in them to get up from the rock. gustave huffs, head bent low, eyes lidded and heavy from exhaustion. they're not made for this, the running and fighting and raw brutality of how it really truly is out here.

( maybe they should have just -- )

"i'm not sure how much i have left in me, lune." they admit, words tumbling from their tongue, passed their lips in a slurred exhaustion as they scrub their fingers down their face. the woods creak and footsteps pass that makes gustave's head twitch, eyes searching the tree line with a terrified, wild look. fingers moves to their chest, pressing to the rapid tick-thump of their heart as they struggle to breathe in and out and in and out.

( they wish sophie was here. the thought is fleeting, and almost makes gustave choke on a sob at the fear of where she could be, if she's even alive. they swallow it, because it's better not knowing and clinging to hope than spiraling into delirium over it. )

"just five minutes, please lune."

[etoilesfantome]

don't think i'm done with you yet, verso. / she for sure has been hounding him with nosy questions about him or the continent or w/e. 😭 science project!

@skybreakr ; date everything ( accepting ! )

And thus far, their interactions have almost been a dance. Or, perhaps more fitting: a duel. A poke, a parry, a riposte, a deflection: she has an intelligence and a curiosity, insatiable, that he both appreciates and that reminds him so, so much of another so long ago —

And that ended well, didn't it. Coward.

She's good at getting under his skin. Prying little bits and pieces out of him that he's kept guarded and close to his chest for decades. But so, too, is he good at evasion; cagey, elusive, avoiding the bigger truths by letting smaller ones free.

It's been a long, long time since he's talked to someone this deft at it. It fascinates him, it catches his interest —— and it also ignites an unease deep in his gut that doesn't quite edge into fear but dances dangerously close.

" Merde, " he exhales, half-exasperated and half-humored. " You remind me of someone I used to know. " And he regrets saying it the moment he does, and he bites his tongue after. The smile, though, is at least rueful. " Are we still on the question-for-a-question rules? I liked that rule. "

[mcnoco]

@skybreakr said: the more information we get, the more questions i have.

Flickering flames from the campfire reflected in her eyes, a window to what flowed through her veins and devoured the binds that may try holding her back. Monoco had observed the subtle shift in her more than once when her thoughts were left unimpeded by attacking Nevrons or his and Verso's mindless taunting and jabs at one another. Not having eyes made it easier to get away with staring, but he tried not to do it often or for long. Humans always seemed to have a sixth sense for it.

This was not the first time they had been the only two still huddled by the crackling fire — Esquie by the cliff's edge, staring up at the stars while the rest slept quietly in the shifting glow. It likely would not be the last either. Even as one of the more scholarly Gestrals, he would not pretend he would ever understand the complexity of her thoughts and desire to unveil every mystery she came across.

"An inquisitive mind can be both blessing and curse," Monoco finally spoke, resting his long arms on his thighs.

"Without curiosity, we can never grow, but that curiosity can lead us down paths we can never hope to return from. It is also likely to consume us. This is not the first time you have stayed up this late. I've always been under the impression humans needed sleep."

[tristese]

@skybreakr asked: reverse — [ taste ] sender drops to their knees and starts kissing up the inside of receiver’s thighs ...

beautiful.

that’s all sciel can think as lune stands bared in front of her. she’s the most beautiful creature she has ever seen. sciel sinks to her knees, reverent like a worshipper in front of an altar, in front of their god, and her hands gently skim along her sides, her waist, her hips. lune’s skin is soft, and she worries that if she presses too hard, she may crack like porcelain.

her hands move to lune’s thighs, gripping just a bit tighter as she brushes featherlight kisses across her abdomen. beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. one hand gently maneuvers lune’s leg to hook over her shoulder, and her lips move to the soft flesh of her inner thigh, kissing and sucking their way closer to her core.

she pauses at the apex of her thighs, breathing in deeply to take in lune’s scent - intoxicating. green eyes flick up to her lover’s face through her eyelashes. “is this what you want? my mouth?” she asks softly, pressing another sweet kiss to her thigh and following it with a quick nip. “you’ll have to say please.”

[etoilesfantome]

❛ can’t sleep? ❜

It's painfully late, and Verso is standing here at the cliffside in their camp, the Monolith looming quiet over the silent seas. Distant Nevrons move in the dark, in the starlight, in the eclipsed moonlight, in the light of the slowly twisting aurora far overhead. He has a shoulder leaned into the rock, and he's picking apart a brightly colorful — red, yellow, veined a twisting white-gold — leaf, flicking the little pieces to be caught by the swirling breeze rising from the seas below.

He half-turns to look over his shoulder, and pale eyes flick over to [ @skybreakr ] before dipping again, and a tiny little smile pulls at one corner. " Not usually, " he muses, and if he's startled by her approach he doesn't show it. In fact: there's a subtle welcoming in the slant to his shoulders, the way he shifts, an easy acceptance to her presence.

" Mm. Maybe if the immortality came with not needing to sleep, I'd be more on board, " he adds, with some rueful humor — though that humor is weighted with the weary reality of it all. He doesn't dream, anymore. He doesn't dream, bad or good, and sometimes he wonders if that's because he's so far outlived the true Verso's path that there's nothing left to give him.

There's something unsettling in only the void, night after night. He avoids it as long as he can, gets away with snatching only the barest handful of hours to keep him going.

But: he's also not the only one out here, and he allows the smile to ease a little more. " But by my count, I've got —— oh, another hour at least on watch. So —— " Brows lift, ice-blue eyes look towards her with a pointed, near-playful volley back of her own question, smile teasing: " Can't sleep? "

an assortment of dialogue prompts ( accepting )

[hiiddenstar]

you did good out there.

Answered ask HERE

[hiiddenstar]

@skybreakr II "you did good out there."

Validation from Lune was all Maelle had wanted, being the youngest member of Expedition 33 she was constantly having to match up to her older and more experienced teammates. The young teen hadn't wanted to be the weakest link and practicing her swordsmanship every day with Gustave seemed to pay off.

Maelle was still panting as chroma causes her foil to dissipate from her grasp, another nevron defeated and gone thanks to their handiwork. Taking Sciel's advice to heart had really helped, learning to read the terrain, their enemies, even her companions to know when they had created openings for her to get in some swift strikes in key areas and hit necessary weak points.

"Thanks, couldn't have done it without you though. The way you used the ice to slow them down for me really helped."

[erasedstar]

@skybreakr says, " do you remember your nightmares ? "

she doesn't wake up screaming, but she wakes in a cold sweat feeling like she isn't herself. and sometimes, in her dreams, she's not. she can't tell who she is. where she is. beneath the shadow of the monolith and drained of any semblance of life, she watches a fight that she's not part of. she doesn't know these people, but the pain she feels in her chest as she watches is real. betrayal in action. some of dance she's not privy to understanding. something like pained resolve painted across the woman's face and something like deep remorse painted across the man's.

she doesn't understand what she's watching, but her heart bleeds all the same. from her position as a god, watching a play. from her place of knowing without knowing. does she exist in this dream?

no.

stories of betrayal can't exist without some form of love.

it's there and it's bleeding out. he touches her shoulder and guides her down to the ground and she dies there, looking up at him.

maelle can't look away, even if she wanted to. she's forced to perceive, to carry this burden of heaviness that she doesn't understand.

and then, she's doubled over beneath the glowing numbers and screaming. the sort of scream born from a grief that can't be put into word and studied. a ribbon drifts, idly, blood tainting the breeze. a massacre has happened.

she wakes and she's maelle again and her throat feels like she's been screaming for hours now.

lune finds her, as she often can be found, alone and staring out at nothing, looking for answers that will never form. the others are asleep, or as asleep as they're allowed to be given everything happening around them. maelle can't shake the feeling she's being watched from somewhere beyond the scope of her range of sight. something in the shadows. someone.

a brief smile is exchanged, lune's understanding and maelle's tired. they sit there in silence before the inevitable question. she can see it forming on lune's face before she asks and while she doesn't intend to sound clipped in response, she is.

impulsive, instinctive. one of the teachers back in the academy would've scolded her for not thinking before she leaps.

"are you only asking so you can pick them apart and try to understand what secret they'll reveal to you if i do? some perfect path to the monolith and our success, just... tucked away in my head! ready for the picking!" residual ache causes her to rub at the center of her chest and she refuses to turn her gaze to lune again, focusing instead on those same glowing numbers that dog each and every one of their steps. maelle could leave it at that. ideally, she should. "just... leave me alone," softer then, between her teeth and with a subtle shift of her shoulders. "please. i don't feel like being analyzed."