@Andraste, but of course all welcome.
Nyx.
Perhaps he'd forsaken her; whittled away from her grasp as he'd shed his youth and passion began to burn - this steady flickering within his chest, threatening with every beat of an iron heart to roar. Her talons had done little to shield him, but raise him she had, in her distant summons, whispers of night. Seething, she might be, after his disappearance from her claim, but the phantom did not rest, and the Melonii stood no more. Blackfeather stood no more.
Ironic, perhaps, that the two might fall. He'd witnessed their decay.
Olive.
His true mother, who'd clambered into the depths of his soul, unwittingly, and upon this did he blame the emergence of thought, of feeling, from the cracks of an indurated skull. It was why, in refined stoicism, he stood at length beside the fringes of Courtfall; this kingdom of ambiguity. Olive. Had he not been so convinced of her demise, she would have been the one to mark his next course - a journey of mother and son, reunited as the world had so generously intended. But no, came the clamour of an inssipated soul, what use was there in a journey of discovery, if the one he sought was no more than a buried corpse? He could not guarantee that his mother still walked among the lands, and so, he did not search for her. If she lived, they would meet again.
Now was not the time.
His pacing over the mountain range had rambled to him of only one thing, and it was @Tundra - this inexhaustible perseverance of timeless memory, it consumed his mind until his eyes forced shut! Shut, closed, still once more. It bothered him, deep beneath the surface of his skin, that he could not shed the craving of her countenance, her presence beside him. Aries was not a man of feeling, he could not utter that he cared, even if it was true, but alas, he did crave - ever the esuriant wraith of shadow was he.
And so, here he was, poised in cold splendour. The territory spread before him whispered of the scent that had painted the wintry hues of Tundra's pelt, as they had danced to the haunted sound of their own minacious game. He pondered, upon arrival, an early depature - but Aries was not a coward, and he would face this as he always had. So part did his lips, and from those charcoal jowls rose a summon; a call, gravelly in timbre, steady in strength. Diligent, yet not without intention.
Then, the silencer waited.
Perhaps he'd forsaken her; whittled away from her grasp as he'd shed his youth and passion began to burn - this steady flickering within his chest, threatening with every beat of an iron heart to roar. Her talons had done little to shield him, but raise him she had, in her distant summons, whispers of night. Seething, she might be, after his disappearance from her claim, but the phantom did not rest, and the Melonii stood no more. Blackfeather stood no more.
Ironic, perhaps, that the two might fall. He'd witnessed their decay.
Olive.
His true mother, who'd clambered into the depths of his soul, unwittingly, and upon this did he blame the emergence of thought, of feeling, from the cracks of an indurated skull. It was why, in refined stoicism, he stood at length beside the fringes of Courtfall; this kingdom of ambiguity. Olive. Had he not been so convinced of her demise, she would have been the one to mark his next course - a journey of mother and son, reunited as the world had so generously intended. But no, came the clamour of an inssipated soul, what use was there in a journey of discovery, if the one he sought was no more than a buried corpse? He could not guarantee that his mother still walked among the lands, and so, he did not search for her. If she lived, they would meet again.
Now was not the time.
His pacing over the mountain range had rambled to him of only one thing, and it was @Tundra - this inexhaustible perseverance of timeless memory, it consumed his mind until his eyes forced shut! Shut, closed, still once more. It bothered him, deep beneath the surface of his skin, that he could not shed the craving of her countenance, her presence beside him. Aries was not a man of feeling, he could not utter that he cared, even if it was true, but alas, he did crave - ever the esuriant wraith of shadow was he.
And so, here he was, poised in cold splendour. The territory spread before him whispered of the scent that had painted the wintry hues of Tundra's pelt, as they had danced to the haunted sound of their own minacious game. He pondered, upon arrival, an early depature - but Aries was not a coward, and he would face this as he always had. So part did his lips, and from those charcoal jowls rose a summon; a call, gravelly in timbre, steady in strength. Diligent, yet not without intention.
Then, the silencer waited.
If I cannot bend Heaven,
I will raise Hell.
I will raise Hell.
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Messages In This Thread
i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Aries - January 01, 2020, 02:51 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by RIP Wintersbane - January 01, 2020, 03:02 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Andraste - January 01, 2020, 03:27 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Tundra - January 01, 2020, 09:17 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Aiolos - January 01, 2020, 10:11 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Aries - January 08, 2020, 12:35 PM
RE: i'd rather have this empty seat by my side - by Andraste - January 09, 2020, 09:47 PM