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;; vague assouplie chahute doucement le berceau liquide. sous l'expiration du zéphyr, rive s'étend et sourit par l'ombre de ses forêts. car depuis l'antre frais, les écumes se dégueulent sur sa lisière et font échouer candeur sur l'enfer. soudain au coucher, claquent ô voiles nébuleuses. les cieux couvent de mille pleurs ses enfants resquilleurs; les marins sont engloutis dans les tumultes sans âmes, celles vomies des abysses. tonnent les voix coléreuses, tapissant le ciel de l'emprunte jupitérienne. d'autres encore clament comme cabots, l'ire fantastique. rincés de lames, fraters se jettent ainsi aux voiles et guidons de bois, pour que vaisseau se retienne de piquer sa fin aux portes noires de leur au delà...
origine v.1 btt; 15.02.21, v.2 btm; 30.09.23 // design v.7 thème; eden's chain // réservé à un public mature et averti (-16) [ mention tw ]
thème piraterie-fantasy, post-apo. sombre en l'ère nouvelle // créatures sanguinaires mêlées aux forbans belliqueux et au corps marinier.
i'm please don’t be too mad. i know you will be anyway but please don’t let it brush away my words.
by the time this gets in your hands i’m probably somewhere on the sea. i suppose it came as a surprise in the way i have done this–though you know, more than anyone, that i have been restless with idealizations of escape. if i hadn’t seized the opportunity, i think regret would have eaten my heart away. it is selfish. you don't have to forgive me, i understand.
i have seen many interesting things, met very strange people you would smile about. i will tell you if you’re willing to hear about it. but above all, i hope you will let me hear from you. it is my only concern (you are allowed to think otherwise, of course, but that would be wrong).
everything i do is driven by the wish of seeing you again. i go to sleep peacefully the nights i remind myself we’re always under the same sky.
i miss you, (you are not allowed to think otherwise.)
Noor
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water falling from my fingers—you starе, in awe, call me “seagirl”
nature : héritier d'une fatalité salutaire, porte en lui le (triton) bonimenteur et illusionniste, qui même privé de pouvoirs transparait dans le moindre de ses gestes.
saisons : par (vingt-sept) fois la cloche retentit.
myocarde : anesthésié, l'amour est un mal qu'il ne souhaite pas attraper.
besogne : la chance ou la filouterie, honnête joueur ou (arnaqueur), le brave ou l'(espion).
errance : le plus souvent échoué dans les limbes de macomb's end, la gangrène de la belle, la puissante (lawfort).
i can't believe yo i don't know what to say. you could have at least told me. i just hope those things you talk about were worth leaving me don't feel committed to write again, i'll understand.
Vesper
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dearest Father, what becomes of the boy no longer a boy ? please— what becomes of the shepherd when the sheep are cannibals ?
i thought i hallucinated your letter when it came to me. words on paper prove you don't hate me entirely, or else you would not have bothered–you're not the type. now that i know you will answer i can write without worry.
i could not find a way to tell you. i don't think it would have changed anything anyway: i would have left, you would have been hurt. am i wrong? tell me so. but i'm more than willing to acknowledge my way of doing things is very disappointing. i'm sorry, vesper. i know it is too late to tell you this, but i mean it.
again, about leaving; i would not have reached out if i was not planning on coming back to see you eventually. that is if you want to see me again. do you resent me too much for that?
i hope you will write again someday, because i will,
Noor
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water falling from my fingers—you starе, in awe, call me “seagirl”
nature : héritier d'une fatalité salutaire, porte en lui le (triton) bonimenteur et illusionniste, qui même privé de pouvoirs transparait dans le moindre de ses gestes.
saisons : par (vingt-sept) fois la cloche retentit.
myocarde : anesthésié, l'amour est un mal qu'il ne souhaite pas attraper.
besogne : la chance ou la filouterie, honnête joueur ou (arnaqueur), le brave ou l'(espion).
errance : le plus souvent échoué dans les limbes de macomb's end, la gangrène de la belle, la puissante (lawfort).
i've had the last letter you sent on my desk for a month now. i'll admit the thought of not answering entered my mind at first— i guess my head was clouded by anger and disappointment, and once again i let my temper get the best of me. i would like to tell you that you're wrong, that as your friend i would have let you walk away and follow your path. but in all honesty i fear it might have been a lie. since my mind is now clear, i can say that i understand why you felt the need to leave like this.
so, i guess what i am trying to say is that i respect your decision. my place is here, in macomb's end, with my people. and yours is out in the sea, exploring.
by the way, where are you now ? and who are you traveling with ? do you have a crew ? i hope the water and its creatures don't torment you too much, and just in case you need to reach land again, just know that you're free to visit anytime.
take care,
Vesper
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dearest Father, what becomes of the boy no longer a boy ? please— what becomes of the shepherd when the sheep are cannibals ?
i’m sorry for answering only now. i don’t even know if you will get this on proper timing!
thank you for being honest, i’m actually glad you took the time you needed. i think it’s better this way. i was afraid of rushing you into things you hate. i can’t tell you how relieved i was when i received your letter. anyway, are you well?
i'm happy to picture you writing at your desk. it’s a very sweet image to have. please keep doing it.
yes, i have a crew, and a pretty boat as well. (not mine, but still worth mentioning) we were close to barter bay a few days ago. it’s so strange to grow accustomed to living with a bunch of people but i don’t think i dislike it. sometimes i like to imagine you here with me, sailing. (although i am aware you cannot be ripped from macomb’s end, which is understandable.) our main activity does not change from what you and i like to do, and i have seen treasures beyond thought. there is something i keep for you, i hope i get to give it to you soon.
i do want to visit. but if we manage to meet somewhere other than pretentious lawfort i would be over the moon. i’m not exactly sure it’s something you can manage, though? i would love to see you in a different setting than those streets we know.
i know i write too much this is getting pretty long. i can't wait to hear from you again.
wishing you peaceful days,
Noor
_____________________
water falling from my fingers—you starе, in awe, call me “seagirl”
nature : héritier d'une fatalité salutaire, porte en lui le (triton) bonimenteur et illusionniste, qui même privé de pouvoirs transparait dans le moindre de ses gestes.
saisons : par (vingt-sept) fois la cloche retentit.
myocarde : anesthésié, l'amour est un mal qu'il ne souhaite pas attraper.
besogne : la chance ou la filouterie, honnête joueur ou (arnaqueur), le brave ou l'(espion).
errance : le plus souvent échoué dans les limbes de macomb's end, la gangrène de la belle, la puissante (lawfort).
yes, i am well. things are going as usual, there is nothing exciting or worrisome to say on my part. although i have to admit i don't hate writing letters as much as i thought i'd do. you know i'm not much of a literary person, but i guess it can be a good thing to add to the long list of things i'm already good at, so i will keep on practicing.
it's good that you enjoy living with people. and you are right, i cannot be ripped from lawfort but also i could not live a life at sea since i get sick as soon as i step foot on a boat. hence it is much better for me to watch you from afar and for you to bring me back lot of shiny and valuable things.
i hope the thing you long to offer me is a large chest full of gold. .... what ? can't a man dream ?
kidding, you know i'll be happy with anything you have for me (but extra happy in case it's gold, just saying).
anyway, write me when you are near lawfort again, and i will inform you if i have to travel to another island for work, so that we can meet again.
with deep friendship,
Vesper
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dearest Father, what becomes of the boy no longer a boy ? please— what becomes of the shepherd when the sheep are cannibals ?