opened : 07. 28. 2022. |
closed : 08. 28. 2022. |
completed : 08. 01. 2023. |
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⤜⤞ this is crazy. this is real. this is love. without love, what does the world amount to ⤝⤛
@_-windflower-_2022
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cockaigne ( noun ) - an imaginary land of luxury and idleness
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ now playing ; hall of fame by the script; will.i.am
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ECHO HAD MISSED HOME MORE THAN SHE THOUGHT
Echo walked along the beach, towards the main lobby, the sweet scent of petrichor lingering in the hazy skies above them, promising a thunderstorm.
The main house, where the immortals often gathered during the day to spend time together, stood only a ways back from the beach. At full tide, that is. Echo thought Cue preferred it that way. The smell of salt water, and sea breeze floating through open windows, promising either storms, wind, or fresh sunshine. The sea wasn't her favorite place in the world, certainly not, but she couldn't deny that something about it reminded her of home.
The arches of the entrance walked a stone path, and plants and vines grew up along them like old ruins, and even now, Echo can't resist the urge to brush her fingertips on the wilting leaves. Her attention returned to the front, but absently, she glanced at Cue - who was now walking in front of her, and only pursed her lips together.
"Where's the body?"
"Cordelia, has a name, thank you." He slanted his gaze over his shoulder, only once, before returning it ahead to walk over the threshold and inside to the main living room.
Echo huffed a response in return, but followed regardless, refusing to bat her wings in obvious frustration of her counterpart. Her brewing was quickly stalled by the little string of pain that shot down her wing, and through her spine.
Broken. Right.
Muttering another half-hearted curse under her breath, she pushed open the front door, the one made of something that felt smooth against her fingers, and inscripted with Cue's mother language.
Something long forgotten by now certainly.
Cue would probably tell her as much if she asked.
The sound of something, or rather someone bitter interrupted her thoughts, and Echo turned entirely into the house, warm scented air flowing out the door. Sharp in contrast to the cool air that was beginning to build due to the oncoming storm. Looking ahead, past the threshold, on the couch, was Cordelia.
Her long hair braided back still, not quite as impeccable as it had been before, and the other immortals were cautiously looking over. Cue, unphased as always, was sitting in his chair, flipping absently through a book he'd probably already memorized by now. Cordelia however was sitting, her face scrunched in some kind of knotted expression, glaring daggers at the currently wingless immortal.
