[O] so they dug your grave [Joining!] - 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] so they dug your grave [Joining!] (/showthread.php?tid=22685) |
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so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Prometheus - 02-02-2016 Prometheus and Pyr
We have watched them, you and I. Watched and waited. The years have come and gone—time dragging days away into months, the seasons molding both earth and firmament with rough fingers of wind and rain. The world turns on and on; ever moving, ever changing, and ever evolving. Time passes beneath me—beneath the infected gaze of the zombie child, the undead, the cursed wretch of the shadows (is that what you think they would call me now, brother? Cursed?) I can’t help but let slip a wide smile, amused by the title, thick blood oozing slowly from fetid lips and spraying with the breath of my hoarse laughter. How ignorant they are. They would benefit from an example, a show of what it would truly mean to be cursed. I suppose the time has finally come, hasn’t it? The shadows can no longer shelter us, my brother, as dear as they have come to be (and I let go of them willingly, heeding your gentle prodding when large paws carry you ahead of me, because I know even then, we will not be alone). From the darkness, we emerge as one. I blink against the moon’s full light, disease-ridden eyes clotted and seeping with the death that pollutes my body (my soul), before I look to you. Your face is much less critical than my own, uninhibited by greed or poison—and I try not to think of your scars, those chains, refusing to acknowledge how foolish I might have been— —focusing instead on the cusp of our glory, for we have arrived. Releasing a long sigh that rattles with death, I call upon my magic to transform me. Decaying muscles thicken beneath once-rotten skin, healthy now by the magic that courses through my body, raising me to what I could have—should have—been. The dead child is gone, his putrid figure and macabre thoughts hidden behind the stallion, tucked away and thriving beneath the thin guise of life. I laugh freely, delighted by the smooth sound as it breathes through silent organs, your growling purr deepening my ghoulish grin before, together, we delve into what was once ours. I find it again without difficulty—that place in the mountains, tucked beneath their rocky peaks and risen above the others, uncrowned and groveling at our feet. I stride to its entrance with you at my side, pausing only a moment before coming to a halt. I debate treading further, probing into the borders (because, my dear brother, we bow to no one), but with the help of your firm cautioning, I do not. ‘Trespassing,’ You warn simply, and I hold your eyes with a glare before consenting with a nod. After all, we have waited this long— —what would a little more time mean now? notes; He's in his potential form, no wings c: Eeee I'm excited!!! This is open for anyone to join, but I'd like this thread to move along as quickly as possible, so no posting order apart from leads. Yay! “Speech.” evil angel nothing but lies and crooked wings RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Deimos - 02-06-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Prometheus RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Prometheus - 02-12-2016 Prometheus and Pyr
It doesn’t take long for him to come—that black reaper of the north, cutting through the crisp winter fog with predatory strides to stand like a sentinel before us, and brother—I welcome him. Confidently I meet his gaze, my filthy, tattered curtain of ghoulish thoughts and twisted intentions smoothed out to satin beneath this façade I wear, this trick of life. Am I not beautiful, brother? (Deceivingly, malevolently, and treacherously beautiful?) I suppress a dark chuckle with a sly twist of my lips, the skin like velvet as they press together into a grin (and where is the blood that dribbles from my chin? The death that clings to the very crux of my body?). ‘It can never truly leave you, brother.’ My grin deepens, a swell of pride blooming brilliantly before it is cut, severed by the sharp, unrelenting blade of—and what do you suppose it is? What is regret, what is shame? I wasn’t made for these things, for remorse, with only the thirst for blood and deceit raging through my dead, rotting veins—and I can see it. Forever, I can see the violence—my violence—in the scars that ensnare your powerful body, your skin mutilated by those chains (by me), and I can see all that I was. Oh, but brother—I have become so much more with you! We are one, you and I. With the wrath of trickery and power, of death and fire, they will know us once again. I can almost taste it brother! My tongue is wet with desire, impatience, but firmly you bid caution to my restless mind, pushing patience upon me. We will have our time, brother; but for now, I focus on the mountain king, and it is only then when thin threads of memories are pulled through my mind, guided by a sharp needle of death. I feel the cold claws reach for you first, thirsty for your breath and the steady beating of your heart, before I feel my own guise of life stroked by these frigid fingers. Instinctively I bristle, whipping my long tail sharply before I spare you a glance to ensure your safety (because I cannot lose you again, brother), though you assure me with a low growl. Perhaps I am momentarily too distracted to notice the flickering of my magic across my face, the faintest shimmer of ruin, bone, and rotted muscle marring perfect skin, before I return my attention to Deimos, as flawless as a God. He is the quintain now. “Your memory is impressive, Lord Deimos,” my voice swells in this beautiful veneer, something between a purr and a growl while glowing, unblinking eyes settle steadily on the Reaper. So, I have not been completely forgotten in my absence? The pleasure that swells between us would be tangible could it be perceived by anyone else, brother, but this victory is only for us now. We will see what Helovia has left to offer us, what lies in these mountains now (and what is worthy). Vultures we might be, you and I, but now we must feast like kings. “Once, many years ago, within these very mountains. Tell me, does the Dark Empress still hold her crown?” I offer the slightest tilt of my head, wondering what has become of the politics, of this land that once stood upon the others like a lion conquers its prey. Do you think it is still worth our time, brother? “My name is Prometheus,” I nearly sigh, though my voice is powerful as it slithers through the wintry air, complementing the clever twist of my lips, “I have come seeking acceptance once again.” notes; So sorry for the wait, I'll try to get them up faster! “Speech.” evil angel nothing but lies and crooked wings RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Deimos - 02-14-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Prometheus RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Prometheus - 02-15-2016 Prometheus and Pyr
I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the DarkEmpress is dead. After all, that is what mortals do, isn’t it? Live, only to die; they come and go like the pages of a book, each one taking up a little bit of time before it must be relinquished to another. But not us, my brother. Forever, we will live; together (because I cannot think of your probable mortality without grasping at rage to mask the sorrow) we will show them how merciful death might be (how they might welcome it). We have done it before; watched as the body’s light faded away to give into perdition, and ignite the havoc they so desperately deserved. Suddenly my tongue is wet with hunger, an appetite that is so rarely satiated, and I meet the Reaper’s stare with an equal gaze. “What a shame,” I murmur, for a moment wondering what had finally brought the DarkEmpress to her demise. Trivial details, really—what matters is what has become of the Basin’s empire in her absence. My thoughts trail to memories of Snowspot, how much of a disappointment he had become, and my expectations tremble beneath the weight of his disgrace. I can only hope the Reaper has been a more capable leader. My glowing eyes shift to him when he speaks, questioning what my intentions are with this herd. I allow his words to settle before responding, breathing in the silent, frosty air with the shadow of a sneer creeping along my perfect, cunning lips. “I suppose that depends on what the Basin might need,” I speak slowly, softly (as if to draw him closer), with a pointedness behind my words. What I intend is to find out if this mountain valley is worth my time, if it deserves my allegiance; and since I’m sure the king’s time is ever so precious, I don’t leave him guessing for long. “What exactly has become of the Basin under your hand, Lord Deimos? Does it still stand superior to the others? Does it still charge like a lion into the face of the enemy? Does it still inspire fear into the hearts of those who dare challenge its people?” My voice rises steadily with each phrase, but I never lose control. Each word is pronounced clearly, deliberately, meaning to strip away the walls and see what the heart of this kingdom is now. We have no use for a weak empire, my brother. “Or has its icy peaks melted into shallow, trembling puddles?” I stare unblinkingly, hardly challenging his authority—but his capability. ‘Tread carefully, brother.’ I clench my jaw, wanting to throw your cautioning aside, for a moment too prideful to see that you are right. I cannot lose myself to condemnation now—not when we have waited too long to come so close. Narrowing my eyes, I exhale a sigh from my nostrils before continuing. “I only intend to do what is best for this empire, as I’m sure you do,” one side of my brow rises, and I conceal a smirk before leaning a step forward. “I offer you my services, Lord Deimos,” I incline my long horn, and I feel the warmth of your flames rise to lick across your back, “perhaps I can counsel you, as I had done with the DarkEmpress?” “Speech.” evil angel nothing but lies and crooked wings RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Deimos - 02-20-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Prometheus RE: so they dug your grave [Joining!] - Prometheus - 03-15-2016 Prometheus and Pyr
I hide a scowl with a simpering twist of my lips, the glaring blindness of my eyes seeming to grow brighter as I stare, meeting the Reaper’s chilling gaze as an equal (for I have seen death, my brother; I am not untouched by his shriveled, greedy hand, nor am I ignorant to his crimson smile and devilish gaze. I have met death, and here I live—what greater power could have made it so, but the hand of the gods?) Does that not make me godly, as well? Almost absentmindedly, I wonder how familiar the North’s dark lord is with the very threat he possesses, how intimate he has come to be with the very essence that has become him. Has he encountered death? Does he know the infernal beast, the daemon, that he draws so close to the crux of his soul? With a ghoulish grin creeping along the line of my soft, perfect lips, I incline my long horn to the dark stallion, never allowing my eyes to wander from his. “Very well, Lord Deimos,” the words are stiffer than I’d like them to be, betraying the frustration that boils and festers beneath this thin, handsome surface. I have tasted power and greatness—to begin now, at the bottom of the pit, is something I do not have patience for. It is your cautioning, brother, that manages to curb my chagrin, and once again (a moment among millions), I am grateful for your companionship. I will never forsake you again. ‘Thank you, brother.’ With the heat of your flames on my shoulder, I breathe into the wintry space between the Reaper and I, grinning as the unfamiliar bite of air flows through dead and putrid organs. I consider his words, debating for a moment the possibility of returning to my craft, remembering my days among the sand-spitters as their forger, and how it had given me such power. But by the tiniest point of your indecision—the faintest ripple between our bond—the probability shatters, piercing my mind and soul as it falls. The memories are too clear, too vivid, too painful. The metal as it had burned, the sound of your suppressed cries, the acrid smell of your burning flesh, and the scars that now stand testament to my selfish folly. Why is it so hard to forget? Why is it still easier to forget, than to forgive? ‘I have forgiven you, brother.’ I know, and so you have told me time and time again. But perhaps it is not your forgiveness that I now need— All the same, I cannot bear to relive my madness, and I cannot bear to be a fool again. From beneath the remains of my folly, I rise again with you at my side, and together, will we be glorious. Enlivened by this thought, I straighten, my determination bolstered by your own confidence in me—in us. “I believe I will be of most use as a spy, then,” I speak smoothly now, acid words coated in velvet and satin. I see no point in pushing him; I understand an unmoving force when it is met, and if this is the path we must take to rise again, then so be it. Arcing my leonine tail behind me in one smooth motion, I lean my weight forward, reaching with a cloven hoof to cut into the Basin’s borders. I feel a thrill spark through my body, giving it a form of life that no mortal could understand. If there is any empire strong enough to support dominance, then surely it is this one. “It is an honor to be under the great mountains once again,” I purr to the dark stallion, a touch of devil shadowing my smile. notes; So I hit a wall for a month and then boom! Muse =O -crosses fingers it won't disappear- “Speech.” evil angel nothing but lies and crooked wings |