+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Wheeling Gull Isle lyotard (/showthread.php?tid=53654)
lyotard - Innominate - December 19, 2022
it stood on the land bridge. it was the early hours of morning.
chilling water lapped at its feet, each roll of waves sending a cold pulse up the veins.
but it was a pulse.
its head turned away from the mainland, and towards the isle.
and towards a man.
(@Bartholomew)
"many thanks, father." it said, and its voice was husky, facetious.
but the smile was audible.
for my 100th post and return from hiatus, i ask for a mew-mew thread
RE: lyotard - Bartholomew - December 19, 2022
"many thanks, father."
he would have never pinned hearing such words from the beast. beast was perhaps too harsh. she had been odd, she had an ill-heart, but she had never been a beast.
she had lived alongside the isle as much as she could.
she had not spread harm among them.
perhaps he was sentimental with the way the island shrunk to nothing notable, nothing claimable.
has your time come to be elsewhere?
perhaps, perhaps there was a soft strain of emotion in his throat. a cracking of the man of gold.
RE: lyotard - Innominate - December 19, 2022
its black gaze rested on the man, with the comforts of a cat within a patch of sunlight.
the man was a constant. a pretty picture. a landscape painting lovingly detailing every advertised feature of his faith.
and it'd hate to prove him wrong.
but he was wrong.
the dog smiled; stained, blunt-toothed grin. it moved its paws trough the rising waters, to turn its body towards the preacher.
"like the only begotten son, i've risen-!" voice raspingly raised, so there was no sharpness to the exclamation. curled tail fanned for drama.
its cowled head dropped, as the face newly flush with life examined itself in the grey-blue. the following giggle like a bubbling cauldron, contents of which; molasses-thick.
"not so quick, i admit. but rise i did."
( was the face within red and raw, as a newborn's is? )
RE: lyotard - Bartholomew - December 19, 2022
he smiled, or was it more of a grimace?
he should not have festered this selfishness with healing others. it had gone on too long and now he paid the price all over again.
blessed are we.his voice smaller than he would have liked. dwarfed by the newfound life before him in the woman-beast. eyes burning hot with his shame and his emotional wanting.
where will you go? what will you do now that you have risen?
clinging, desperate. he only wished for it to be returned.
RE: lyotard - Innominate - December 19, 2022
a mirror of a mirror, within a mirror. reflection, seen trough eyes, and eyes are liars, processing truth like removing small bones from a fish, rib after rib, until they won't scratch the esophagus upon swallowing.
real masters of reality let their throats bleed.
a single drop landed on the dog's nose. it lifted its head, to see the heavens swirl with grey.
"far." the newborn said, facing the sky. what entertainment, to place expressions onto the face of the man, who now sounded so diminished.
diminished, like his sanctuary had become.
"this one, has never been past the mountains. i wonder what's there."
RE: lyotard - Bartholomew - December 20, 2022
beauty and health.
he told her, soft still but warmer. he had only ever wanted the best for her. to see her heal and become some semblance of whole again.
yet she was much like a bird, prepared to take flight the moment her broken wings had healed. he was not a man meant to be a cage.
go. be free. know that you may come back at any time.
RE: lyotard - Innominate - December 20, 2022
a smile. it melted over the dog's features. it had a bitter aftertaste.
irony?
mockery?
"ashes to ashes, father." the dog said, pulling itself away from the skies.
the shepherd now looked so small, like a nothing-thing. the beating body assigned him the misery it had just abandoned.
the dog turned. there was a thought to give a parting word...
then it passed, traceless.
the newborn walked the water, towards the mainland.
RE: lyotard - Bartholomew - December 21, 2022
feel free to fade if she's outta here <33 i will miss her dearly
dust to dust.
he was content to watch her walk. across the sand, the water, the bridge that connected them to the mainland.
in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.he returned her to the land he had saved her from. in a way this did feel very much like a burial.
through our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body...
he heaved a long, sighed sound. prepared to now fall into prayer for her health and strength. that she may see the other side of the mountains as she so wished.