05-30-2018, 12:54 AM
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]Suiteheart had felt the happiness. One moment, she was lounging near Margaery's rose garden, flipping through a book of poems when she felt that emotion. Joy and peace wreathed around her like a safety blanket, and for a moment, she sat still. An eyebrow would arch skyward, slowly, briefly, as she wondered where these feelings sprouted from. Her baby blue eyes drifted across the page once more, wondering how she had felt that from this. She dug deeper, searching for the source of this strange yet welcome emotion. She found herself smiling as she did so, for she could not help it - she was overjoyed.
It took mere heartbeats to find the seed from which her joy bloomed. The metaphorical seed was, of course, Margaery. Her beautiful rose was sending her happiness again. She let her smile deepen. A year ago, the pair did this sort of thing often. During difficult times and normal times alike, through the course of their days, one or the other would send happy thoughts through their bond. It made for easy days. Suiteheart rarely went 24 hours without feeling cheerfulness through their connection. She was about to send something kind back when her wife's thoughts began to overwhelm her own.
Golden. Daughter. Home. Latin.
Latin? Quickly and easily, the white feline pieced together these thoughts as they pierced her mind. She knew her wife was speaking to Hazel (she picked that up from the images of the girl's golden eyes that flashed through her mind). Margaery was using Latin to converse with the young girl (the daughter). Margaery felt at home. "Et tu mirabiliter." The Latin tumbled from her lips, and an extremely confused look blossomed on her delicate features. Marg had said that at the same time Suite had said it... Oh, had the pair unlocked a new level to their bond? The idea excited her, and it prompted her to stand and find her wife.
As she neared the group, she could feel something shift. Margaery was experiencing something dark and sad and jealous. Panic lit her chest aflame and Suite scurried toward them. She pried and pried, discovering the source of this new sadness was from... Bast? As she stepped into the outskirts of the scene, she could sense the darkness in Margaery rising, clawing toward the surface. Cerulean eyes searched desperately for her wife's stormy gaze, but Marg was distracted by both Hazel and Bastille. 'Marg...' she sent through the bond.
White ears flew backwards as their bond told her what Bastille had said. She felt the coldness of his words, the steely anger in each syllable. "Bast?" she ventured, stepping forward, but it was too late. Her boy was storming off, the trembling ground giving way to bright embers flying from his paws.
In his wake, the Cosmic General hurriedly padded forth, halting in front of Hazel and Margaery. She cast a glance over her shoulder, but Bastille had not faltered in step. A deep sadness tugged at her chest, causing her eyes to fall upon Margaery. She looked to her golden girl as she spoke, saying she messed up. Margaery was quick to deny that, insisting the fault fell solely to her. A heavy frown laced itself upon Suiteheart's lips. This whole scene did not sit well with her. Her chest ached and her head spun. She felt both anger and sadness (anger for Bast being hurt [she couldn't help it; she was mother bear and protected those she loved, even if they were hurt by others she loved], sadness for the way he had treated both Haze and Marg [and, admittedly, there was anger at him too]).
"Hey, hey," she began, gently, calmly. She brushed Margaery's side with her tail, hoping to offer comfort to the chocolate point. A paw would reach for Hazel's in an attempt to hold it. "It'll be alright, Haze. You didn't mess up, I promise. He's just... He has got a lot of unfortunate things going on right now. He'll come around, darling, you'll see." She smiled that motherly smile of hers - it was warm and reassuring. Shifting her eyes to Margaery, she meowed, "And you're not a failure. This was just a mistake, babe. You couldn't have known this would happen. Don't be upset with yourself."
After she spoke, baby blues searched again over her shoulder for Bast. A frown touched her maw. He was so overwhelmed these days. He had good reason to be, yes, and it broke her heart. 'Please come back, kiddo,' she thought, wondering if by some chance he'd been listening in on their thoughts with his telepathy.
It took mere heartbeats to find the seed from which her joy bloomed. The metaphorical seed was, of course, Margaery. Her beautiful rose was sending her happiness again. She let her smile deepen. A year ago, the pair did this sort of thing often. During difficult times and normal times alike, through the course of their days, one or the other would send happy thoughts through their bond. It made for easy days. Suiteheart rarely went 24 hours without feeling cheerfulness through their connection. She was about to send something kind back when her wife's thoughts began to overwhelm her own.
Golden. Daughter. Home. Latin.
Latin? Quickly and easily, the white feline pieced together these thoughts as they pierced her mind. She knew her wife was speaking to Hazel (she picked that up from the images of the girl's golden eyes that flashed through her mind). Margaery was using Latin to converse with the young girl (the daughter). Margaery felt at home. "Et tu mirabiliter." The Latin tumbled from her lips, and an extremely confused look blossomed on her delicate features. Marg had said that at the same time Suite had said it... Oh, had the pair unlocked a new level to their bond? The idea excited her, and it prompted her to stand and find her wife.
As she neared the group, she could feel something shift. Margaery was experiencing something dark and sad and jealous. Panic lit her chest aflame and Suite scurried toward them. She pried and pried, discovering the source of this new sadness was from... Bast? As she stepped into the outskirts of the scene, she could sense the darkness in Margaery rising, clawing toward the surface. Cerulean eyes searched desperately for her wife's stormy gaze, but Marg was distracted by both Hazel and Bastille. 'Marg...' she sent through the bond.
White ears flew backwards as their bond told her what Bastille had said. She felt the coldness of his words, the steely anger in each syllable. "Bast?" she ventured, stepping forward, but it was too late. Her boy was storming off, the trembling ground giving way to bright embers flying from his paws.
In his wake, the Cosmic General hurriedly padded forth, halting in front of Hazel and Margaery. She cast a glance over her shoulder, but Bastille had not faltered in step. A deep sadness tugged at her chest, causing her eyes to fall upon Margaery. She looked to her golden girl as she spoke, saying she messed up. Margaery was quick to deny that, insisting the fault fell solely to her. A heavy frown laced itself upon Suiteheart's lips. This whole scene did not sit well with her. Her chest ached and her head spun. She felt both anger and sadness (anger for Bast being hurt [she couldn't help it; she was mother bear and protected those she loved, even if they were hurt by others she loved], sadness for the way he had treated both Haze and Marg [and, admittedly, there was anger at him too]).
"Hey, hey," she began, gently, calmly. She brushed Margaery's side with her tail, hoping to offer comfort to the chocolate point. A paw would reach for Hazel's in an attempt to hold it. "It'll be alright, Haze. You didn't mess up, I promise. He's just... He has got a lot of unfortunate things going on right now. He'll come around, darling, you'll see." She smiled that motherly smile of hers - it was warm and reassuring. Shifting her eyes to Margaery, she meowed, "And you're not a failure. This was just a mistake, babe. You couldn't have known this would happen. Don't be upset with yourself."
After she spoke, baby blues searched again over her shoulder for Bast. A frown touched her maw. He was so overwhelmed these days. He had good reason to be, yes, and it broke her heart. 'Please come back, kiddo,' she thought, wondering if by some chance he'd been listening in on their thoughts with his telepathy.
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[glow=black,10,100]GOT MY DEGREE IN THE GUTTER,[/glow]
[glow=black,1,100]MY HEART BROKEN IN THE DORMS OF THE IVY LEAGUE