Post by saskia burovski on Feb 4, 2019 12:23:30 GMT
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[attr="class","cclyrics"]bite my tongue bide my time
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[attr="class","ccscroll"]she wakes to the sunlight painting her lashes golden, a soft plush bear pressed against her cheek, duvet pulled up to her chin ; she exists in a state of ultimate comfort, at this point, and doesn’t really want to get up. except that she actually does, because she has plans ! she has a picnic to go to, with none other than kasimir, and that means that she can’t lay in bed anymore. she’s got to get up ! do things ![break][break]
saskia throws the covers off, flings the curtains open with a flourish, and begins her day.[break][break]
it’s a little later when she’s fully ready, with a small wicker basket perched by the door, having had a small cup of tea and something light to munch on while she prepares. within the basket are an array of miscellaneous homemade snacks, small and delicately crafted, each one absolutely delectable, at least in her humble opinion. they are each made with love and care, and under the watchful supervision of luci. the bear has, under her paw, a worn-out, yellow-paged notebook with countless recipes within. now, though, she paws it closed and places it on the kitchen countertop. [break][break]
today is a day of celebration — of friends and family and familiars and love ! but now is dedicated to family, and specifically to kasimir. she wishes she could express her gratitude in words ; wishes that he could accept it more easily ; wishes that he knew she is not the frail sparrow-boned girl that wandered through the keep’s doors so many years ago, and that she is more, now, a full novice of a reputable ( the type of reputation notwithstanding ) coven of sundial. but grievances like those, if they can even be called that, will wait for another day.[break][break]
today, she exists ; today, she celebrates. [break][break]
she spies her brother within the emptying halls of the keep, with people beginning to head out for gatherings of their own. “kasi!” a hand raised in a wave, a mega-watt smile, a wicker basket slung around her forearm. “over here!”
saskia throws the covers off, flings the curtains open with a flourish, and begins her day.[break][break]
it’s a little later when she’s fully ready, with a small wicker basket perched by the door, having had a small cup of tea and something light to munch on while she prepares. within the basket are an array of miscellaneous homemade snacks, small and delicately crafted, each one absolutely delectable, at least in her humble opinion. they are each made with love and care, and under the watchful supervision of luci. the bear has, under her paw, a worn-out, yellow-paged notebook with countless recipes within. now, though, she paws it closed and places it on the kitchen countertop. [break][break]
today is a day of celebration — of friends and family and familiars and love ! but now is dedicated to family, and specifically to kasimir. she wishes she could express her gratitude in words ; wishes that he could accept it more easily ; wishes that he knew she is not the frail sparrow-boned girl that wandered through the keep’s doors so many years ago, and that she is more, now, a full novice of a reputable ( the type of reputation notwithstanding ) coven of sundial. but grievances like those, if they can even be called that, will wait for another day.[break][break]
today, she exists ; today, she celebrates. [break][break]
she spies her brother within the emptying halls of the keep, with people beginning to head out for gatherings of their own. “kasi!” a hand raised in a wave, a mega-watt smile, a wicker basket slung around her forearm. “over here!”
[attr="class","ccnotes"]kasimir burovski ✨
[attr="class","cchover"]saturnalia day 2 // shitpost central returns
