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+--- Thread: Luneshale Pass perfect machine (/showthread.php?tid=63191)
perfect machine - Aelius - October 31, 2024
He ran.
Through field and mountain, he did not stop, his paws eating up the stubble ground with every labouring stride. In his wake, blood smeared the earth, his paws dried and cracked from the relentless race. The Southern sun beat down on him with Father Fire's wrath.
Rain never came; relief disappeared with his name.
When Aelius' finally collapsed, he found himself sinking into a near waterless expanse. A single stream trickled through the midst of the barren land. He dragged himself towards it, but stopped short, nose hovering just above the waterline.
He had left, and no one had followed.
Dammit, Acheron!he struck the water with anger,
dammit, Athena!
This wasn't how it was supposed to end! He could still feel his brother's face against him, turned away as their father moved them about a board of his own making. He was nameless now; @Faceless. But they were all pawns to him, weren't they? And now his brother would die in the Grove, just as he would die here with the gilded rays of the setting sun.
Shadows darkened his yellow eyes.
He dipped his head, and drank.
RE: perfect machine - Faceless - October 31, 2024
He was just a boy with nothing worth stealing; just another lost soul wandering this desert, no fit companion for a faceless girl. Yet she watched him.
His eyes were a pretty gold, like a memory she sometimes fought to recall in full. It never would come to her — but seeing him was almost the same. Maybe that was what led her to slink from the shadows cautious and catlike. The girl's jade eyes fixed to him as she moved, aware of every small gesture he made, each breath he took.
Just a boy with nothing save the fur upon his back. Not so unlike her. Worthless, then.
Why bother with him at all?
RE: perfect machine - Aelius - October 31, 2024
He had company.
He felt her before he saw her, haunted eyes scoring his face. She moved about him like a vulture over the hunt, but he had no prey to give, and vultures always hungered. Aelius watched her through narrowed eyes, but didn't move from where he lay on the riverbank. His breaths had finally stilled to something more akin to normal - but what was normal anymore?
If you're here to kill me,he rasped,
don't waste your time looking.
Father had told him this land was full of heathens. Aelius wanted the girl to prove him wrong. Yet she looked like a reaper herself, as though time never touched her. Maybe the desert had finally stolen his mind. Aelius' eyes flashed with challenge nonetheless for her to defy him, even as he turned his neck for the taking.
RE: perfect machine - Faceless - November 02, 2024
Why would I kill you? Stupid boy.
No malice in her tone, merely a lazy disdain. Her ears laid disapprovingly to her skull. The girl had known many boys like him, boys without a warm bed or a mother to serve him warm meals, boys who wept and raged and wandered endlessly. Boys who often died still tasting the ashes of what had once been their dreams. She supposed the ones who lived must have become the sort of men who hurt faceless little girls — but she wouldn't know. She'd never stayed to find out.
Why bother with him at all?
She stepped closer, hoping to catch another glimpse of his eyes. They were the only pretty thing about him. One day they would rot out of his skull — or else, or worse, turn to gilded ice as the world sucked all the warmth from him. But tonight they were soft eyes, lovely sunlight-colored eyes, and she wanted to look before they were gone.
You have the eyes of someone born falling, but made to fly.
RE: perfect machine - Aelius - November 04, 2024
Her teeth never met him; instead, she struck a different chord. He pulled a wry smile. Stupid. Foolish. He was one and the same, and didn't he know it?
Atlas mocked him from the frayed darkness, his face evident in every remnant of gold still suspended in the thickening night. Dad could have killed him, too, but instead he'd damned him to the desert, a pariah to his people, an example to those who thought to follow.
If only this girl knew. Then she wouldn't bother with him at all - but she didn't know, and it made him feel... new.
He turned away to the waters again, so his troubled gaze couldn't meet her, but he felt her near him - nearer than before, and a quiet laugh rose behind tight lips. A single breath escaped him, bitter as the autumn air.
I guess I'm something like that,his gaze lingered on the river, on the multitude of stars blurred in the ripple of the shallows. He wished he'd had something even half as poetic to respond with. Instead, he asked,
what about you?and gilded eyes rose to meet her,
were you made to fly?
It was clear she was falling now, and he knew the likes of her: spindled strays who honeyed you up with sad, doll eyes, all while they reached for the name tucked away in your pocket; the kind who could see when you had nothing left to give.