[P] Tardy to the Principal's Office - 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: [P] Tardy to the Principal's Office (/showthread.php?tid=24289) |
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Tardy to the Principal's Office - Thranduil - 06-22-2016 we live like thieves kings among men His breath puffs white steam into the air, and his back glows already in the low dawn light with dark sweat stained gold. He is still for this moment, but it’s clear he hasn’t been still. All around him the tall lingering pines were cut and slashed both low and high, weeping their sap in their defeat. His mouth rolls the leather grip in his mouth where it slipped, feeling the heavy but even weight. The double bladed polearm was ever still a high prize. Its tips were stained dark with sap and older frays, and its blades had dulled from drawing at the trees, but it gleamed with a ferocity and greed for more. A spark reflected in the earth eyes of the gold as well. It had been a while since the gold had focused himself on such tasks as, training. So often in these days his mind had simply wandered where it liked, and it was usually loathe to find such a disciplined activity as this. Yet, the golden had plans, as ever, and as he had looked after the sharpening of his knife the day before he found as he took the polearm up, its weight was foreign. So he was here before the sunrise, torturing young pines everywhere. Haldir at first had been excited by the prospect of training. His youth was fading behind him and his chest swelled with the burly strength of his young prime. He had imagined a more…interactive session given his age. So when he found that training still involved him being told to stay away he was miffed. Yet the little deer was more determined than when he was young, so he had found a few young pines of his own, and on them there were the cuts and slashes of some violence. However, he tired more quickly, and his boredom at the task came more easily. So he now only watched through the trees the various glimpses of gold as he lay tucked up by his work on a young pine. The golden chest expanded deeply, but his knees were shaking. His own strength was dropping long ago. Trees don’t give like flesh and even bone, and his neck and joints strained to power through the force. The irritation at this weakness was the only thing powering him on through, but even that, as early morning rose on, had faded. Shaking his crowned head the polearm rotated in his mouth and the blades on the weapon, accompanied by that glorious noise of metal being drawn, pulls back in. It clicks most satisfyingly, so that as he finally let the pole lye against a pine, the gold was smiling with satisfaction. OOC:: I have no clue about titles, but the idea of thran going to the principal Deimos's office for skipping school without permission just made me giggle XD "Talk?" thranduil @Deimos RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Deimos - 06-27-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Thranduil RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Thranduil - 06-28-2016 we live like thieves kings among men Haldir heard him first, as usual. The dark stag’s head lifted with the usual tense alertness of an interruption. Yet as soon as he saw the dark shadow of the Reaper slip through the stag gruffs in recognition. The dark deer settled back in ease, but his moon eyes watched intensely the stallion’s coming. Haldir had never found fault in the elder Reaper. His memories of the beast were made in the eyes of a child, with the usual innocence of a child. So the dark lingering threats that usually dripped from Deimos’s presences, never affected the deer much. Yet, this was no longer then. The last time they had met under the herd meeting, the deer had seen a different side, and with the manner of their leaving, he now watched with baited breath. The deer’s gruff wakes the gold from his private moment. His harks flick back momentarily. His deep satisfaction at his physical exhaustion and overflowing reassurances of his power and prowness (and ego) made him loathe the end of this moment. But when Haldir’s thoughts revealed who it was, his harks come forward again. Crowned head lifted with the dark smirk and earth eyes flashing with rebellion. Haldir may have been worried for the gold’s reaction, but he need not. Thranduil was delighted to see his old friend. Like many of the others who haunt the mountains the Reaper had been become part of the locks and links which held the gold in place. It had caused a bile of bitterness to rise in the back of this throat whenever the gold remembered the demon’s cutting words from that admittedly disastrous meeting and how the gold had to simply swallow them. But now, that was no more. Now, the Reaper held no command over him. True, some of the dark seeping foreboding that followed him still pressed against the gold’s chest (some reminder that this was a Reaper, and the gold was mortal), yet even that could not weigh down the curl of his lips as the shadow stepped forward. The Reaper’s mood seemed to increase that feeling, as his eyes glinted with tensity. Yet ever was the demon reserved. The gold had hardly ever see the Reaper let loose his fury (which surely presided within), and it was perhaps one of the more irritating aspects of his former colleague. Though the black being may fault himself for losing his cool, it was nothing compared to the golden’s dramatics, so he should count himself in the win. The gold only shook this from his mind with a tilt of his head and widening of his smile. “Hello Deimos.” A hind cocks in false bravado, but the crowned head still held to the height of the other. He would not dip his head to the other now in some admittance of the reaper’s superiority. Oh no. Tasseled tail flicks and curls around his heels. Now the golden had broken free from those chains and imprisoning rules. Now he need not heel to the other’s commands. And oh how the gold reveled in that. It was the same sensation which had carried him rebelliously into World’s Edge, and tempted him into taunts and tricks. The dark stag looks to the gold’s cuttings on the trees and his low words make the gold practically giddy, intoxicated as he was by his pride and the love of this sport of speech now fully available to him again. To the observation though he only settles back. Earth eyes watch the other hungrily for any sign of or movement. He had learned from the doll on the beach that not much in the Basin had changed, and he doubted Deimos exactly missed the golden’s presence. But still he couldn’t resist, his vanity rolling to new heights with the influence of adrenaline and endorphins from only moments before. So with a sly smile, quickly growing wicked, he probes, needling. “Miss me?” OOC:: "Talk?" thranduil @Deimos RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Deimos - 06-29-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Thranduil RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Thranduil - 07-01-2016 we live like thieves kings among men Why the dark Reaper, seething in his icy wrath and doom, always seemed to humor the gold is a mystery. There certainly was a clear threat centered in the horn on his brow. The gold had seen several times where it brought down elk and wolf with its touch. Yet standing before him, he couldn’t seem to keep the smile off his face. Not that he was really trying. This was not some youth’s attempt to prove themselves. He wasn’t needing to show himself grown up or matured. He was far beyond any of that. Perhaps though it was that the stallion standing before him was so utterly is opposite. Not in an irritating way, such as the always bubbly and joyful Johnny, but in a dark way. They were both capable of slitting throats (well, the gold would rather make them want to slit their own throats, much less messier) and overthrowing kingdoms, but in complete and opposite ways. And that was utterly entertaining, because while the dark lord could annoy the gold, the gold also knew he could annoy the Reaper, and yet they could both be satisfied with the ending. How wonderfully strange. Haldir watched from his place on the side at the two. His moon eyes ever close on the gold but easing. The gold only let his tasseled tail flick at his sides, curling and switching like a cat tail. It was only when Deimos spoke in admittance that the movement paused and a brow raised. He hadn’t been expecting that. Well, he was vain enough to think it, but he had never thought the Reaper would admit it. And yet under their crushing rules of alliance he had been able to do nothing. That suffocating peace was unbearable. With a renewing curl of the tail he wondered if the same pressing weight was felt on the Reaper. The gold had never considered what this hellion could be if he was unleashed. Now that would be an interesting show indeed. It also though made the gold slightly more irritated at his friend (not that he’d admit it). If it were true, it meant that though just as capable as the gold, Deimos held the steadier hand. One able to wait in hiding till called. A skill the gold could call on, but never fully mastered. The Reaper’s eyes rolled over his coat and the gold, in silence, let them. There were many new things to see upon his coat, especially with all his cloaks cast aside, and the dark stain of sweat making his new bearings bold. The running lines of claws some long and deep still mar his spring coat. Perhaps by next winter’s shed they would fade, but this season they were too fresh to leave him in gold perfection this summer. Even his knees, scraped on the rocks of World’s Edge were light grey and visible. They were usually mars, blemishes, and embarrassments, but before the war lord of Deimos, he was not ashamed. And then it all came crashing in. Never told why he left. Harks lift up more alert, and the tasseled tail drops dead pan to his heels. Haldir sensing this change, and knowing what dark suspicion raised in the gold’s mind, stood from his place. Yet the gold notes him not, instead his earthen eyes narrow slightly, and his head tilts. His mind feeling out the question, and worse, thinking he knew the answer. “Did Hotaru not tell you?” The idea that the rosen could have gone back to the Basin and never mentioned that he had departed, or at least to that the ever protective Deimos had never asked, had never crossed the gold’s mind. Questions and accusations began flooding into his thoughts. His hind uncocked and his ears began to fall back, already worried of the coming answer. That she had said nothing? That the tiger’s words were threatening truth. The gold was being played a fool by a lying whore and she would think nothing more of the potential sacrifice of her knight. Tasseled tail flicks hard with the thought and under his skin some anger trembled his shoulder,, trying still to banish those thoughts. “Did she say nothing of the scars on her shoulder which match mine?” The earthen gold had abandoned all high humor in this tension, giving away possibly more than he should of the inner workings. His inner thoughts. His inner fears. OOC:: Well that escalated quickly XD "Talk?" thranduil RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Deimos - 07-06-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Thranduil RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Thranduil - 07-13-2016 we live like thieves kings among men No. Nothing. Teeth grit, and earthen eyes flash in armored gold. Every nerve down his back, every brown and gold hair pricked and bristled. Haldir, who had come closer, steps back. For good reason. Had a weapon been in hand it would have been thrown (the polearm rested forgotten on the tree). In his own building rage, growing tier upon tier his tongue it arrested and silent. Only when his eyes catch Deimos again, do earth eyes glance to him. Good gods it made it all the worse. For weeks he’d kept the weight and torment of rosen ghosts from the eyes of the world, perhaps it showed in how he acted, but never was it named. Here before Deimos it was beginning to be laid bare, whether the dark reaper caught on or not was unknown, but the gold misjudged his ability and assumed he would. At the very least the last thing he wanted was and audience, and another lecture. Bitter taste rose in his mouth to remember what role the Reaper usually took, what moral high ground he usually carried. What command he kept over all turmoil. And it was the last thing the gold wanted to look one was his cold, sober, impassive face. All usual out lashings unavailable the gold was left with nothing but his anger. Hard eyes turn away, and he moves off slightly. Wanting somehow to escape, drop, or erase whatever was making him this way. For it wasn’t as Deimos assumed simply an act of seeking glory for some fine deed. It wasn’t that he wanted his name carved in the halls of the mighty. Not this act. Not that moment. That moment was not simply acting on selflessness. It was not some charity. It was worse, far worse. It was the beginning that started this whole hell which he now lived, where rosen ghosts dragged up white ones, and demanded his heart open. It hadn’t started out that way. It had seemed like such an innocent thing. Alice nipping at his heels, and Haldir letting him free. It had been about leaving the Basin. At least he thought it had. It had been about an escape plan for his torment of responsibilities, and the heavy weight of chains. He had said she was just an excuse. But the only one foolish enough to believe that was the gold himself. Hotaru was never an excuse, but a reason. No one had ever called for such loyalty and had it handed over so willingly. But it was nothing. His name was nothing on her lips. Fine so she didn’t call out his glories, fine. But to say nothing at all, to never speak his name or even question- ”Maybe to others and not to him” The stag’s words break his tumbling, angry (and fear stricken?) thoughts. The idea that the proud thief had kept her darkened secrets and weakness to herself should not have been so unbelievable. If she came to the borders and simply slipped in quietly no one would think it more than some spar gone awry. A snort tumbles out long into a sigh. Yet still he clings to one notion he hadn’t quite realized. It had been weeks. Why did she not seek him? Why where her questions of where he wandered unasked? Could it be that she had locked herself so completely away? That did not fit at all with his knowledge of her. Or could it be, she had played him? It was worst and bitterest question yet asked. For in it she would have played him a fool, and fallen for the weakness of his For a while he stays silently turned away, trembling as he rages, and falls for fears. It was only a gentle gruff by Haldir that brought him once more back to this place, this world, where the ever stoic and composed Deimos stood behind him. His thoughts are brought to a halt, the air hanging with expectation. What to say? He was loath to tell Deimos least the dark creature uncover this weakness. Under the gaze of one so placid and ever collected, it sounded revolting to pour out something as pathetic as – what he was feeling. Especially given how much was already revealed. The realization, and dare we call it embarrassment only adds to his irritations and frustration. The gold body turns slightly back, crowned head twisting, speaking low and rumbled. Its lines trembling with underlying emotions barely checked. It was never in his nature to explain, but someone must know. Not for glory. Not for thanks. But so that this feeling in him could be validated and whatever called him to Hotaru’s aide remembered. Not for posterity, but for himself. To validate all those weeks that rosen ghost wandered in his thoughts. Perhaps it made no sense, but desperate men rarely do. “She was caught, by a monster of her past, helpless by some memory.” The feeling he knew well. His lips felt dry and the words foreign on his tongue. “A massive bull of tiger. I switched for her while he hunted.” Earth eyes unfocus. “I paid the same blood price as she, but he paid more.” The last phrase was darker, something bordering the deep threats of the Reaper himself perhaps. Once more revealing perhaps more than he should, but the two bulges in his satchel slung on the tree by the polearm were precious things. “I rested and healed in the Labyrinth.” Was the only comment the gold gave on why he did not return once finished with the vengeance to the Basin’s arches, and it was off handed and low toned. Then he was caught by some unexpected question of his own. Some unthought of thought that his attempts to keep his distance had caused to be washed away. Yet coming back to it, he found it more precious to know than all others. For all those weeks the rosen had been some ghost, some pressing presence. Yet in that form which he had held at arm’s length she was shiftless and even voiceless. Remembering her as he last saw her, trembling vocals and bleeding wounds his chest slightly jumped. Those images which he had struggles to forget suddenly became important. The earth eyes flinching slightly to ask something so tender so revealing, and his voice was nothing but a whisper. “How does she fair?” OOC:: Don't feel you have to match length =] "Talk?" thranduil @Deimos RE: Tardy to the Principal's Office - Deimos - 07-15-2016
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary @Thranduil |