Cove

cove belongs to me, fathom; id appreciate not using/editing this character (unless you're fixing spelling/adding and/or removing categories)
every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
plans that either come to naught, or half a page of scribbled lines
hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
the time is gone, the song is over, thought i’d something more to say
~pink floyd, time
code coming as soon as i learn how to code whole pages
===appearance===
a match is lit in the dark, and the seawing’s eyes adjust to the light. she moves quickly through the house, despite the clutter that litters the floors, tables, and walls; she's gotten used to circumnavigating them. the match threatens to go out as she hastily moves it in front of her, but she pays the flickering no mind.
she finds her way to the top of the house, where a sheet covers a mirror leaning precariously against a wall. it nearly slips as she deftly takes the rag off, but somehow stays, making a soft thud as it makes up the millimeter difference between it and the wall.
in the mirror is herself, of course, her scales desaturated from years away from the sun’s light. she looks young, barely over the age of a dragonet, but yet her eyes reflect wisdom common in older, more experienced dragons, along with the omnipresent bags under them. her claws and horns are all dull, and her wings fold in, the same position they’ve been in for years. her tail swishes from side to side ever so slightly, flicking away at the very last second from the clutter around her.
she can’t stand to look at herself anymore. she turns her head away.
the mirror shatters. “that’s seven years bad luck,” she notes, as if she cares.
===personality===
with the mirror no longer reflecting her, or the gaudy, practically worn away “things will get better!” sign across from it, cove turns to walk away. she ventures outside her clutter filled house to the cave her house is in, gloomy and dark. she sticks the match in the ground and watches it burn to the ground.
she’s not sad, not really. she isn’t happy, but she’s pretty sure the absence of one doesn’t mean she has the other. she’s quiet, patient. one day she will feel all her old emotions again. once she sees her family again.
she sighs as the match goes out. she walks over to a wall of the cave she’s in, a number scratched into the side. subconsciously, her scales glow to allow for easier reading.
999,674:189:12:49:32
999,674:189:12:49:31
999,674:189:12:49:30
she sighs again. “i’ve got a lot more coming.”
===history===
she does the math. its been a little under 326 years since she was banished.
she remembers it like yesterday.
animi can usually control their magic perfectly, or at least close. cove’s magic kind of… follows her whims and wishes.
cove was angry at her older sister. this was the part she had trouble remembering, what she was angry about. but it was pure hatred that ran through cove’s veins.
her older sister lived. barely. this was the part cove remembered best. the part cove would never tell.
the queen, relatively young (for a queen), coronated due to her mother’s sudden heart attack, had never seen so much blood. especially not from her (admittedly, favorite) daughter.
“COVE,” she’d shrieked through tears, “YOU, YOU’RE, YOU’RE BANISHED! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU IN- IN A MILLION YEARS!”
cove flew as far away as she could, until her wings tired, and she dropped from the sky into the sand of a beach of an island. when she woke, she had one wish. she wanted to go back to the sea kingdom, to her family, even if it did take a million years.
cove didn’t age from that point on, stuck as a barely matured dragon with minimal control over her animus magic and minimal control over her emotions. so she put them both in a box, locked it up, and hung the key around her neck.
twice, she retrieved her animus magic from the box; once, to build the house, and twice, to make the timer that counted down the days she had left. 
she promised herself that one day, she’d be ready. one day, whether that day be in ten days, ten years, or ten thousand years, that she’d be ready to open the box. and never have to use it again.
she sighs again as the memory replaying in her head ends. she waits for a while before heading back into her house, deftly navigating her way to where the box sits.
she takes it and opens it fully, letting her animus magic and her emotions flow into her. she’s ready to use this now, and, she realizes, she always was.
she cries, the first time she’s cried since she was a dragonet.
she cries for a while. 326 years is a lot of time to hold back tears.
Category:Animus
Category:Animus Touched
Category:Characters
Category:Content (TheUnFathomable)
Category:Females
Category:LGBT+
Category:SeaWings
Category:Status (Exiled)
Category:Status (Royalty)
Category:Work in Progress