Cold Island
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Listing Series
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Summary
“Corrin. My name is Corrin. What’s yours?”
There was a time when the salty gusts of wind, the ones that leave your hair messy, the ones that make you feel like you’re breathing in the entire sea, were unfamiliar to Pebbi. But as he stands on this cliff, waves crashing down so many feet below, they’re filled with nothing but a stark feeling of familiarity, a sense of belonging. The wind ran its salty fingers through his hair, loose and free, gathering around their back. Sometimes it felt as though, deep at night, there was something the wind was trying to say in its mournful wails. But maybe that was just him trying to make sense of everything. Maybe he was just trying to search for answers that weren’t there, ones that would never be found because there were none.
Aka a collection of stories gathered on a loose timeline regarding the character Pebbi Brownstone
Series
- Part 2 of Pebbi Lore/oneshots
- Part 1 of Cold Island
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Summary
‘ Corin stretched, breathing deeply. When he was younger, he always pictured big cities like this were full of bright, colourful, glittering lights; but as he stands in Burghal, it’s much more reminiscent of monotone greys he grew up with in Navis Mane. He had gone onto this rooftop to try to get a better view of the city, but now that he was on top, all he could see was his hair flying into his face. Sighing, he reached back, tying his hair behind his head; twisting the band far too many times. ’
Or, Corrin’s journey to find a sense of relief
Work title from cold island
(Rewrite of Look at the stars, the big black inc)Series
- Part 4 of Pebbi Lore/oneshots
- Part 2 of Cold Island
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Summary
Despite the crime rates in Burghal being on the relatively higher end, the atmosphere as night creeped out from under the edge of the floating island was decent.
Exiting the Blackstone warehouse stationed in Burghal, Syna set a brisk pace, walking through the city while the sunset washed the sky a pale yellow. There weren’t too many people roaming around now that the light levels were noticeably low, though the streets were still full of cars. She had her phone out, switching between a map she had opened up, the compass charm pointing her in a general direction, and watching as the city started to light up, window by window, as the sky continued to darken.
Syna thought she’d still be stressed to all hell and back. She was tired, which had more or less become the status quo about a decade ago, but this was… peaceful enough.
And, by all the stars, it at least wasn’t a local deity execution party.
(Or, Syna’s attempt to deal with the fallout and, finally, have some peace of mind.)
Series
- Part 3 of Cold Island
- Part 2 of Fermata