Meadowlark Prairie versailles
bury me at make out creek
41 Posts
Ooc —
Away
#1
Private 
she had never learned to live with her grief, but around.

she often mourned her childhood ( a  bittersweet  unfinished  symphony ), her brother's hadean design and lackadaisical air, her hoarfrost mother and her silent father, reading the rotating nuances of his expressions, forever their protector. missing the clear ponds reflecting her soot-masked visage — now she has no face to show nor a valuable character to fall back on.

her willowy legs gave out of feebleness, her matted and slim figure apparent. the alacrity of the meadowlarks and vast sea of sweeping viridescent, she blinked lethargically.

where have i been?
burn scar crudely pockmarks the right side of her temple.

Hearthwood
NPC
I'm losing my faith in our lives apart.
31 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
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#2
It was father, alive and well — !

Hypnos cavorted through the trees as if they were strands of reedy grass, then when he hit the true grass he felt as if he were swimming; the sky-sea expanded across his back, magnificent, overwhelming. 

He stared up as he ran, craning his neck. When that proved difficult (as he tried to track the clouds with wide eyes at the same time) Hypnos felt a wave of vertigo sweep him off his feet. He spun, staggered, and with a giggle, collapsed among a patch of herbs.

The feigned sleep stopped as he snorted and rolled, kicking out his legs in coltish fashion, only to find his toes netting against something soft. Oh? Hypnos peeped, reaching, hugging close the body of his sister which, to him, wasn't even there.
bury me at make out creek
41 Posts
Ooc —
Away
#3
apologies for short post!

the feverhot girl almost assumed the dark wendigo was a byproduct of her dizzy spell, but she stretched her neck to squint at her especial brother's features, 
"hypnos!" she cried in return, half-slurried. "is it you? or have you been roaming somehwere i cannot see, like you always have?"
burn scar crudely pockmarks the right side of her temple.

Hearthwood
NPC
I'm losing my faith in our lives apart.
31 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
Offline
#4
His sister cries out his name. There is something twisted about hearing such a familiar voice calling his name so sweetly. Her body is warm and so he burrows his face in to her back, clings to her as he once did to their mother. Finding comfort.

The smoke came and I went home without it, he answers. The factual manner of his answer could have hinted towards lucidity but he begins to laugh, the rough hewn quality of that tittering sound soon becoming manic. Mother isn't here.
bury me at make out creek
41 Posts
Ooc —
Away
#5
i have more time on my hands so hopefully i can write more <3
h
"the smoke came and i went home without it,"
h
the oracle revealed, overcome by a trance furnished by mania. frater meus, she swallowed the phlegm in her throat as he chattered on. hypnos had never suffered a trite remark in their lifetimes to her knowledge, her brother's riddling involuntarily forced her to think. "its gone, no one comes back to things that are gone forever."
h
the warmth returned to her lymphatic cheeks as his warmth added to hers, a soft curling of her lips could be seen. "if we're together, we can go anywhere, and that means wherever they are."
h
but she was done speaking for now, it wasn't as if it was prerequisite for the pair to operate ( and she didn't know what to say to him, a third of him felt like a stranger ). she nipped his ear playfully as an invitation to run, hunt, whatever, suddenly invigorated by their reunion.
burn scar crudely pockmarks the right side of her temple.

Hearthwood
NPC
I'm losing my faith in our lives apart.
31 Posts
Ooc — Talamasca
Offline
#6
wanna fade here and have another?

Her words were cacophony beyond the limits of his laughter. They came to him piecemeal. Gone was their home, their smoke made mother; how could they ever be together again if it was forever?

His laughter choked in his throat. Hypnos greedily burrows against his sister's pale fur to muffle himself, unaware that he isn't just laughing. 

When she spasms and reaches for him, snapping teeth, he pushes her away - the long tendrils of her coat having been matted by tears and snot where he had masked himself with her.

Eventually her antics draw him in to a game. His aim is off, as always. She is a blue-gray blur. Her teeth shine against the black of her gums and the black of his coat. He bites at air and grass and starlight until he feels too full of all of it, too weighed and sluggish.

Whether she remains there or not, he drowses for as long as he can. It is never enough.