[O] The Phantom Agony - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [O] The Phantom Agony (/showthread.php?tid=20309) |
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The Phantom Agony - Mauja - 08-13-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams The world is a vast and silent place.
Snow had a way of muting sound when it fell—and fall it did, in large, tranquil flakes. It hid the darkness of tree trunks and boughs, masked the sharp edges of rocks and stones with a soft, white padding, and covered tracks. It would be easy to become lost in snow, taken by winter, and kept somewhere in the kind of frigid perfection of the weather.. until spring would come with its long days and rays of sunshine, burning and burning and burning until the perfection turned to rot. Spring had a way of always finding what winter had hid, and ruining it. Briefly, he had the cheerful thought that he would rather be frozen solid and stay a glacial statue, than become a putrid, rotting carcass slowly falling apart. And he wanted to say, 'of course I would rather be alive', but as he peered through the snowfall he couldn't say it with full honesty. He felt cold within, a chest full of icy jaws and black holes—he felt tired of grasping at the light everyone so praised and finding it to be like smoke, too elusive to hold and not inclined to shine on him anyway. Each time he left the sanctuary of his shadows and blizzards the sun touched him, thought about it for a moment, and then said 'nah' and left him within a shadow of its own. He would rather stay in the shadows by choice. It made it hurt slightly less when he noticed it. [ @Naerys .. I'm not sure why it decided to be so short, but it did. xD ] man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same RE: The Phantom Agony - Naerys - 08-13-2015
RE: The Phantom Agony - Mauja - 08-27-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams [ I am so, SO sorry about the wait on this :x ]
I can't hear you Do you still exist? The snow brought him something. In the peculiar silence-yet-sound of his clearing it came, slowly, at first little more than a disturbance at the outskirts of his awareness: something different to the sound of the snowfall, the hint of a scent in the still air... Black-rimmed ears flicked forward, and his head turned in her direction. Dark nostrils widened, drew in air, sampled it. Let it out again. He didn't think he knew her, but then again, he hardly knew everyone in the herd—a fault on his part, but also a consequence of inheriting his kingdom from a herd scattered. Also, he thought sourly, the consequence of having a King he did not get along with, who could invite whomever the fuck he pleased and Mauja wouldn't have a clue. (Not to mention Mauja could do the same, but that was not the point: the point was that Mauja did not wish to share power.) But all that reflected in the blue labyrinth of his gaze was mild curiosity, a look he bore more as a memory of a time past than as a conscious action. Then, he had been all about smoothness, a small smile curving his lips, and that open way he looked at others, and thought, refusing to pass judgment until he had all the facts. Now.. well, now he sort of looked the same, out of habit, but when the tides turned within his mind, the change was rapid and often came leaking out in ways it never had before. He simply wasn't strong enough to contain himself anymore. What came out of the woodwork, though, was neither entirely unfamiliar nor did it seem dangerous. She was small, white splattered with a pleasant brown; leggy and young yet, but promising to become proportionate. Slim. Feathered wings were clutched to her sides, but that wasn't what drew his attention. The days when he had cared about such things were long gone. No—that which caught his attention was the snow shifting around her feet, making way for.. flowers. They rattled the snow, forced their way up through the cold blanket and into the air, blooming and thriving with no sunshine and only the snowfall all around. His gaze flickered to her trail even as she greeted him. Where she had left them, they lay withered and dying. Something about it was both beautiful and heartbreaking. "Hi," he said, quietly—as always these days. He was tired of sound and of brashness, choosing to step with caution and care and listen rather than boast. Slowly, his head tilted to his side as his gaze traveled up to hers. The long mess of his forelock slid off of his face. "What's your name again? Ne, Na, something?" He had heard it, once; he had heard it goddamnit, but he was older now—more tired, more worn. Things stuck neither as quickly nor as deeply, and it left a guilty little bite in his heart. [ @Naerys ] man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same RE: The Phantom Agony - Naerys - 09-07-2015
RE: The Phantom Agony - Mauja - 09-20-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams Once, he had been perfection: every detail of life carved into his memory, etched into the very lining of his skull. Once, he would never have forgotten her name, and needed to ask for it again.
But that had been then—a hazy past lost in these very fogs, scattered in the blizzards of the north. Now, he was broken. No one. Nothing. He was a dreamer and a drifter, stubborn and restless, bound and fettered by his own beliefs, unable to act, yet malcontent in this peace. He was without purpose, fragments of the past flickering across his body as he tried to make his way through this changed world—through his changed self. It wasn't only his memory and attention that was broken. Once, he had had a purpose, and now he simply mourned how easy life had been then, how.. given. He had risen, he had plotted, he had breathed in the toxic fumes of his misled faith, and there .. he had failed. He peered at Naerys through the softly falling snow. Would she stand there, so peacefully, if she knew of all the vile things his mind had thought? If she knew of all the plans he had once harbored and nurtured? And never carried out. The closest he had come to tasting life had been his little spat in the Throat, the one that fell so short of its mark and left the Plague in shambles. Before that, they had been an unknown, reckless force, perhaps capable of great evil—they had battered themselves against the rest of Helovia, and bled out into the sand like so much blood. Harmless. The power of the unknown broken. Was this grief? This drawn-out process of remembering, of reflecting, this burning frustration at all he had been, and could not be anymore? He could still be cruel; he simply could not justify acting upon it. "I prefer Mauja," he answered her, his voice a soft sigh, his gaze absent-minded—too lost in the past he was trying to shake off yet clung to as if it was the only thing that could save him. Irma swept down from a nearby tree, white wings ghosting through the snowfall, and settled lightly upon his scarred withers. The pin-prick pain of talons breaking skin was familiar, old and comforting; ruby red droplets glittered against the snowy white of his skin. Something about it reined his mind in, made him blink, some focus returning to his gaze. Naerys was peering at him with curiosity, her question hanging in the air. And what would he say? If he said, yes, would she leave? He didn't want her to leave. And yet part of him wanted to simply.. walk out of the Edge, and wander again. See what the world brought him. See the sunrise from the Fields, dance under the auroras on the Steppe, watch the light bounce through the icy perfection of the Arch, explore the parts of the Meadow he had never explored before... See the world; see what it would bring him; dull the pain in his chest with the simple act of doing and saving his bitter tears for the loneliness of darkness. "Sometimes," he said instead, white tail flicking once. A heartbeat later, "Do you?". [ Sorry for taking so long again x_x; @Naerys ] man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same RE: The Phantom Agony - Naerys - 10-03-2015
RE: The Phantom Agony - Mauja - 10-20-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams To think, that once he would've liked to tear the wings from her shoulders. Envy is a powerful thing, dark and brooding, a slow, crippling poison—envy coupled with fear even more so. It was, he figured, what brought nations to ruin, and families to war.
Back then, he had been afraid, and not of hollow bones or feathers—no. He had been afraid of himself. Of what lay deep within his frozen soul, buried in hundreds of feet of snow and ice. Now, he simply knew it for what it was—bittersweet envy, and a dream too painful to dare to touch. Because what in this world could be more cruel, more hope-shattering, than a deep, profound desire of something you could never achieve? Something you could never feel? Something you longed for so much it made your heart ache? Wanting to fly was like wishing the beloved dead to rise. So, he hid those dreams still, let them lay asleep in tombs of ice and marble—but where they had been forgotten before they now had carefully engraved headstones, lovingly labeled and sometimes dusted off. But still, they were hopeless dreams, broken thoughts, barely-acknowledged realizations and longings. Painful. Distant. Hardly worth ripping out wings over. Had to be stupid in your youth, though. How else would you grow wise? The lens through which he saw the world was much different now—and it saddened him that so much of his existence had been reduced to a comparison between now and then, like it could somehow explain things and give him purpose again. It was no wonder he was so down, so lost, when now simply became another then, a yesterday, a day before yesterday, until it would be years past. For Mauja, there was no today. "She's beautiful. Mama has an owl, too. He's much smaller, though." People tended to call Irma beautiful, look to her for some sign of affection, appreciation, thankfulness for their kind words and kind attitude—but Irma was a stone cold beast, with a heart as frigid as her eyes. Yet to deny the girl's words would be stupid. The palest white of winter coupled with the deep, metallic blue of Spark (he supposed; he'd never asked the God if he was behind it) spread out across her back.. she was beautiful, and deadly, and all the more beautiful for it. "Oh," he simply said, though part of him wanted to flip his forelock and fire off a brash grin and say you should see my other one, he's even bigger. "What kind of owl is he?" Maybe his would've seen it around. Maybe, they already knew he was a bondmate to someone, and let him be for that reason. Then.. she came closer, leaving her passionflowers behind to wilt without her presence. His gaze drifted down to them, to their struggle for a life they would not have, devoid of sun and summer warmth—brief, beautiful, and gone just like that. Where she stepped, they rose, and when she passed, they died. It was cruel. Mauja had always been composed out of small signs, the bat of an eye, a slight smile, the twitch of his tail—never one to scream, never one to cry.. and when the darkness was kept at bay, that was still true. Fragile warmth nestled in his eyes as he watched the girl approach, wondering what about him that drew them in. Myrrine had shown much of the same hesitant fascination. And then, she paused when he replied, before mirroring his answer back at him.. and mentioning exploring. The small smile on his lips turned bitter and curved. "Would you like to walk with me?" she asked. Explore, he thought, something dull ticking in the back of his head. Explore, maybe her as much as the world; him, as much as the world. "Of course," he responded, drifting into motion, silent as the snowflakes. [ @Naerys -- he's not giving much yet but :x hopefully it'll come in the next couple of posts! ] man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same RE: The Phantom Agony - Naerys - 11-11-2015
[ @Mauja I suppose we probably should wrap this thread up soon, though I definitely demand more Mau threads. I'm excited to see where these two go.] RE: The Phantom Agony - Mauja - 11-19-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams "He's a flammulated owl."
"Oh." What was a flammulated owl, anyway? He wasn't sure he had ever heard the word before, and it sounded really weird, like some stupid mixture of flambĂ© and mutated. Flambutated owls... If it hadn't been for the clear and proud way she had pronounced the stupid word he would've thought she'd gotten it wrong, somehow—and that had nothing to do with age. Mauja was sure the only reason he would remember flammulated was because it sounded so darn stupid. Then again, he might as well remember it incorrectly because it sounded like nothing else and for all anyone knew he might as flambutated the next time. In the back of his head Irma snorted, and flashed him an image of a tiny, black-eyed owl. The size of it was ridiculous. So either flambutated owls were ridiculous or Irma was exaggerating the whole thing. But then they were moving, slipping through the forest—through the snowfall, like something in the corner of his eye tracked the pattern of the snowflakes and let him weave around it, leaving only his filling hoof prints as proof he had ever passed at all. "Where would you like to go?" She was radiating warmth in the snow, her feathers whispering as she moved, their tips sometimes stirring the air so close to his skin but never quite touching—shorter legs unfurling to keep a steady pace, hooves and passionflowers finding purchase underneath the white blanket. The falling snow covered those up, too, those wilted corpses, and as he glanced down at her he forced himself to not peer at them. Something about the brief, fragile lives, their beauty and fragrance, broke his frozen heart. "Anywhere," he simply said after a moment, lapsing into silence as his eyes returned to the winding path ahead of them. (Anywhere, as long as it is with you—) She brought him peace. [ @Naerys || Just have it end here, maybe? <3 And yes to more Maurys. ] man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same |