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+--- Thread: [O] You won't forget me. [Any] (/showthread.php?tid=10967)
You won't forget me. [Any] - NPC - 11-19-2013
A dark mare flowed through this forest of wonders. It was her home really. The hum of birds above the trees made her spine shiver. The heart of the mare was the only one beating. Well, thats what she had heard. The only other noises were her breathing and the trees rattling in the soft winds that passed.
The mare knew it was hot as hell right now, but she couldn't feel it. For she was a ghost. She had been killed in this forest, by a horrible equine of a horn. It's sharp edge had stabbed into her, and killed her. Leaving her to die there, the blood pouring out onto the forest floor.
But now, who ever had come upon her would be frightened by her, and run. She would not chase. It wasn't what she was meant for. She didn't know what she was meant for except for guard these forests with hoof and buck. Sometimes she let others pass. Usually foals. She had loved them when she was alive. Had one of her own too. No mate though. She had adopted the kid from an old equine.
Peeking around a corner of a dark tree, that the mare couldn't identify she saw a nice clearing for her to rest. Letting herself fall to the knees and then lower her back end down with the rest.
[I was thinking, and I thought this would be a good thing to do, just because I was bored :) Open to all!]
RE: You won't forget me. [Any] - Gabriel - 11-20-2013
"Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there."
A shadow among shadows caught his eye.
He'd been wandering again – it was all he ever did. He might as well have been a ghost himself. He'd considered that option before, what seemed like a lifetime ago (at least, before his life had started mattering). Gabriel remembered well the cliff-edge, remembered the crash and hush of the waves below. He hadn't thought about how poetic it would be, how tragic – he didn't think in those ways. But it would have been, would have mirrored his father's death perfectly.
That was why he'd been there, on that cliff edge – he'd met his father's ghost. Gabriel was no Hamlet. But when it came to it, when the moment arrived and swept past, he remained. It was the stars that saved him, in a way, and wasn't that funny? It had been the first time, and certainly not the last.
Anyway, he was no stranger to the dead. Maybe here it was odd; it wasn't, not where he'd come from.
At first he felt a chill, watching the shape weave beyond the trees. It seemed to leave behind no sound at all. His own heart, in turn, began racing in his ribcage, as if to remind him how very alive he was; by the time summer's murderous humidity had returned, he'd begun to follow her. He made no attempt to conceal himself, knowing it was futile, but she didn't seem to notice him. Perhaps she just didn't care.
It wasn't long, only a hundred yards or so, before she stepped into the clearing and settled in the grass. Once she was in the sunlight, he became more sure. He couldn't have said what the real identifier was; a scent, perhaps, or lack of one, or maybe the way she seemed to shimmer, to be made of shadow and dust, or the wound in her side that he seemed to catch momentary impressions of, and nothing more. Maybe it was just instinct. Whichever it was, he walked up to her, cautious, even submissive.
“Please,” he said softly, but he couldn't have said why.
He'd been wandering again – it was all he ever did. He might as well have been a ghost himself. He'd considered that option before, what seemed like a lifetime ago (at least, before his life had started mattering). Gabriel remembered well the cliff-edge, remembered the crash and hush of the waves below. He hadn't thought about how poetic it would be, how tragic – he didn't think in those ways. But it would have been, would have mirrored his father's death perfectly.
That was why he'd been there, on that cliff edge – he'd met his father's ghost. Gabriel was no Hamlet. But when it came to it, when the moment arrived and swept past, he remained. It was the stars that saved him, in a way, and wasn't that funny? It had been the first time, and certainly not the last.
Anyway, he was no stranger to the dead. Maybe here it was odd; it wasn't, not where he'd come from.
At first he felt a chill, watching the shape weave beyond the trees. It seemed to leave behind no sound at all. His own heart, in turn, began racing in his ribcage, as if to remind him how very alive he was; by the time summer's murderous humidity had returned, he'd begun to follow her. He made no attempt to conceal himself, knowing it was futile, but she didn't seem to notice him. Perhaps she just didn't care.
It wasn't long, only a hundred yards or so, before she stepped into the clearing and settled in the grass. Once she was in the sunlight, he became more sure. He couldn't have said what the real identifier was; a scent, perhaps, or lack of one, or maybe the way she seemed to shimmer, to be made of shadow and dust, or the wound in her side that he seemed to catch momentary impressions of, and nothing more. Maybe it was just instinct. Whichever it was, he walked up to her, cautious, even submissive.
“Please,” he said softly, but he couldn't have said why.
gabriel
RE: You won't forget me. [Any] - NPC - 11-21-2013
A sound of voice had come from behind her, she jumped, hearing a voice after a while was like a train skirting its wheels on a sharp track that would never let it stop.
It was so different from the voices she had heard long ago. Yet, she liked it. And she enjoyed playing it back in her mind. Yes, her mind. It was as clear as anything. The air it seemed. Nothing much to think about when you can live forever. But now, oh yes, there was something to speak of. Hopefully he could stay.
"H-hello" she squeaked out looking at the chestnut stallion transparent eyes glimmered with silver for the first time in decades. Her heart pounding as she looked into his dark brown eyes.
She hoped maybe he could stay there for a while. So they could chat, and she could get used to the voices again. Maybe he could pull her out of her transparency, and death maybe. She hoped.
[griffin, you won't believe this, I am Cy c:]