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Lights Out. - Ryouta - 07-03-2016 良克
Ryouta
My body aches.
That son of a bitch, even in my head, the voice rattles - tired. Absently, the primaries of my wings drag in along the ground. At some point, the muscles holding them tightly against my frame grew tired, causing them to slacken and fall unnoticed. You may be wondering why I do not simply fly. Easy enough to answer for you. There is a jagged cut running from the once-bleached shoulder down toward my barrel. Dried blood decorates the muddy remains of that front leg, the wound itself exuding a rancid odor; likely it's infected, but what the fuck do I care? The large gash finds company in the bruises decorating my frame like badges of brutality. Each one inflicted by the same bastard's hooves, fueling the anger that resides quietly behind ice cold eyes. Much like the rest of my life, everything collapsed inward quickly. I am or was the right hand of the King. His name is Daa'hn. Let me take a moment to just say - Daa'hn is a crazy bastard. Maybe, in the end, we all are. Daa'hn wears a crown, a very special crown. Stop the head which spins a thousand lies, the skull of the former King, complete with muscles and rotting flesh and bits of brain matter. A lovely image, right? To say the coup we staged was violent would be an understatement. Still, I remained an important cog in the murderous machine of our new society. Until, of course, Daa'hn began imagining the soldiers - including myself - were attempting to overthrow him, placing the crown upon my head. I don't want a fucking crown or a god damn throne, bitterly I repeat my answer to his interrogation in my head. The part I left out, the part I would never say aloud: The only thing in this world I want is her to be alive again. So, the heart in my chest refuses to die. The face on the back of my eyelids will not fade. The scars of my mind replay her body moving gracefully through Eikkahn. Yet, I am alone. Alone, at least, because of lunatic who began throwing his delusions and hatred at my hide like daggers. In case you were worried, dear reader, I kicked his ass. However, it would be wrong to say I left unscathed - physically, anyway. Emotionally I was the same as ever. Passive. Tired. Quietly angry. Oh, I was also banished. Hence why I am walking in this forsaken forest, my mismatched wings dragging quietly over the loam, brushing against trees, losing feathers here and there. I feel nothing except the dull ache of my bruises and the insistent stabbing of the gash on my shoulder. Nothing, until the light filtering down from the branches begins to distort into a shape I recognize. My world quivering, my grip on the earth feeling soft, surreal. From behind the trunk of a tree, a feminine figure so familiar my heart jumps to my throat, the dry tongue in my mouth hissing as I try to summon a voice to call out. Instead, I only manage a strangled version of her name. "Ha...na." Her face flutters back to me, with warm eyes and a warmer smile. The warmth floods my face, my body begins to shiver for the heat makes the air around me feel strangely frigid. A smile, deranged and lopsided, pulls over gritted teeth. Suddenly, so suddenly, lines begin to form over her figure like cracks. My eyes watch helplessly as millions of butterflies take flight, the ghost disappearing in the beats of their wings, leaving nothing but the dark shadows of a forest and my heart beating erratically. Then, my knees give way to the reality of my wounds and I fall, a crumpled mess of muscle and feathers. I am still conscious, if the current state of my sanity can be called such. What a pathetic waste of space. "" 誰がこの心のために殺されことを非難するのですか
Dare ga kono kokoro no tame ni korosa re koto o hinan suru nodesu ka?
RE: Lights Out. - Caneo - 07-03-2016
@Ryouta RE: Lights Out. - Ryouta - 07-05-2016 良克
Ryouta
The edges of my vision are blurred, yet I can still focus as the face of the bastard mocking my crumpled form arrives. His face is gaunt, his color like a ghost, and not like her's just a moment before.
Instead his pale eyes and pale face and fucking annoying expression dig into my psyche, making the ragged breathing in my chest feel more painful than before, and the ache in my shoulder rage. My eyes burn through the glassy grip of death, no longer holding the resolve to appear cool or collected in front of this ass. Now, as you may or may not know, it is generally considered unwise to speak rudely to someone when you are literally standing halfway in a grave. However, I have never been wise. "Fuck off," a pointed statement rushes from my lips, but with dehydration settling into my dry mouth, the dark edge is dulled and listless. The meaning of the words are still quite stark, so my meaning is sure not to get lost in the tiredness of my tones. A coughing, wheeze of a laugh escapes my lungs as he seems to believe I care to see the rest of this god forsaken Helovia. Twisted, a smile appears on my lips, my expression turning back from a fire to one cold as ice, feeling the chill of the air grip my fevered flesh and send shivers through my body unwillingly. My ears pin back against my head in a show of defiance. "I don't care about your Helovia, or your damn faked concern." My voice quivers with the shakes of my body, and I bring my wings to settle close to my body to enclose some heat, revealing the ugly gash on my side. Then, I notice it. The glint of scales in the mane of this fucking guy. Who the hell keeps the company of a snake? Yet, here I am, unable to move a god damn inch off the ground to get away from this freak. Fantastic. Just my luck. Maybe I should have let Daa'hn skewer me like a pig with his horn back there. My eyes narrow into hard slits as he moves around me, pale eyes seeking something on my skin. Maybe, this bastard would end my misery here, or maybe he wanted to poke more fun at the dying man in a strange forest. "If you are going to stare at me, at least do so where I don't have to look at your ugly ass," the combative words ooze from my tired mouth, and lay my head to rest upon the soft loam under my frame. I am exhausted. Even just talking to this stranger wears upon me. Fuck, maybe I really am dying. My eyes close for a brief moment, the flash of a smiling face on my eyelids, forcing them back open. Gingerly, my hooves begin to kick at the earth. Ungracefully, I swing my barrel attempting to get momentum on my side, my wings beating to give me lift. I force my aching limbs to stand, holding the mass of my muscled body precariously. I am still shivering, but at least now I am standing, and I turn my head in disgust toward the pale stallion and his snake. Revived, at least for the time being, I stand as a rather flimsy piece of paper while glaring at my company. "" 誰がこの心のために殺されことを非難するのですか
Dare ga kono kokoro no tame ni korosa re koto o hinan suru nodesu ka?
RE: Lights Out. - Lyanna - 07-07-2016 RE: Lights Out. - Ashamin - 07-07-2016 ashamin lochan &rakt Blood: Both the name of his companion and the scent in the air. This was old blood, though, and without Lochan's keen perception, focused even in the hours of his exhaustion, Ashamin would have missed the smell of it. It drove the Clovenheart further into the Threshold, quickened his pace to something like urgency. He had been alone and bleeding one too many times to let anyone else suffer the same fate--experience that same fear. If not for Zahra, Ashamin would have died. She may have only been a child at the time (what was she now, besides missing from his life?) but the gold-blooded filly had been there when Ashamin needed her. If he desired to do anything with his own new lease, it was the same. Even Lochan, who normally would have been asleep (or at least begging for it) during such a hot day seemed energized by the dire situation. Rakt moved quickly and summoned his nascent magic, gifting Ashamin with the ability to temporarily do the same. As a trio, they leaped through the woods and dodged the tall trunks of the trees that shot up before their every step. When they were close enough to hear voices, all three slid to a stop as abrupt as they could while staying quiet. Lochan edged forward while the others stayed back and narrowed his keen, bright eyes. Three, the little eye said before painting three increasingly elaborate portraits of the beings in the clearing. And... he paused, not knowing the word, and drew a long line that was not unlike Ashamin's own tail. A snake. Lochan stiffened at the site of the fanged thing and moved back, but Rakt pushed forward. Just as the portraits of the figures started to fade from Ashamin's consciousness, Rakt added to his brother's painting of the pegasus. Swiftly, he painted an unforgiving red slash in the shade that was characteristic of the young blood and the sufferer's wounds. So it was the pegasus, the one now struggling to stand and cursing wildly, that was hurt. The painted buck let his long tail cross over each of his companion's backs to settle them and then stepped forth, breaking through the trees just as Lyanna offered her aid. The white stallion was obnoxiously standing idle. "Lyanna means well," Ashamin said, though he wasn't sure why. She'd seemed kind enough when he'd encountered her with Banjo, but he didn't know much about her beyond that. Still, if Banjo liked her then... a friend of my friend. Besides, Ashamin was fairly certain he'd seen Tiamat with the same herbs, and he'd chewed bark after many a fight. "I had no idea you were a healer; if only you didn't have a home, I'd offer you one with me. We could use more like you, always offering to help," Ashamin said, first with a friendly nod to the blue-tipped pegasus and then with a thinly veiled glance at the white stag. His two companions moved around the scene, both avoiding the snake and its bonded and keeping their stances guarded whenever they looked its way. "I am Ashamin, stranger. I'm sorry that you've come to Helovia in such a condition, but I assure you that my companions and I mean you no harm, " the Clovenheart flashed his hindquarters and turned to show the black gash behind his cheek after he spoke. In this dappled light, his gold scars shone. "I'm no stranger to battles myself, I can only imagine how much that wound must be hurting. If you'd like, I could also take you someplace to rest. I'm a part of a group of outcasts that values independence and knowledge above all else, and our loyalty to each other is strong. One of our healers could stay with you and watch over that wound," Ashamin offered, thinking of Seanan. Perhaps it was a little soon in their relationship to be making offers like that, especially given Seanan's demeanor, but from what little the clovenheart had observed he could see the pale practitioner and this pegasus getting along quite well. ""
The Clovenheart
image creditsHey Tai! So glad we got to RP. :) In case you haven't heard of us, Ashamin is representing The Unbound, you can read about us there if you want to know more. RE: Lights Out. - Ryouta - 07-08-2016 良克
Ryouta
I used to believe there was no God.
Today, I am starting to think perhaps there is one. And they really think they are funny. He is right. My ears remain pinned about my skull, yet I turn my head, feeling a rush of dizziness as I do, to bring into view the image of a girl. The dark color of her pelt melts with the shadows, but the vibrant teal touches lace her mane and tail, reflecting the kindness in her eyes. Irritation rolls off me in waves, feeling more or less trapped between nosy fucking rats in my current condition. Were I a little stronger, were I not so torn apart. Ah, but there is no time for hopeless musings. She clarifies her words with more incessant tones, and my face warps into an even more ugly expression. How could she possibly know what I want? How I felt of death? Deep in my heart, I knew that death's kindness would not come for me... not this easily. I am not fated for a quiet death in a forest, but one more brutal. Did I want to die? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I never thought much of heaven, but she would be there. I, however, stand no chance of meeting her smiling face when I finally draw my last breath. A kindness like spending eternity with your whole heart - I am not worthy. Death holds no redemption, no reconciliation, no recovery for a soul like mine. When I faced the crossroads of my life, I chose to fall into darkness. At least, here in the darkness, you cannot see that you are alone. If you are hoping for some expression of regret, though, you will not find it here. I made my choice long ago. My energy remains focused on keeping my body upright as my mind drifts between thoughts, feeling uneasy around the ghost like stallion and his fucking snake. Then she returns, the maiden of ink and turquoise, laughably like a dog with a stick hanging from both sides of her velveteen lips. My mismatched eyes wearily follow the branch as it falls near my hooves, disinterest evident in my shivering frame. Lyanna offers her name freely, but I remain nameless. Just a dying man in a foreign land. I am too tired to laugh at the thought of chewing on a woman's wood, nor do I make light of situation as I would on a normal day. "Arigatougozaimashita," my lips mumble, my exhausted brain reverting itself to a language they would not understand. Instead of the common tongue, I speak in the language of a nation forgotten: a nation conquered by war and torn apart by savage. My home. My tone is formal, as is the language I use, making the ragged edges of my voice sound smoother. I do not move toward the branch, instead I simply close my eyes tiredly, when another appears on the scene. I feel the pain, but I do not mind it. I am alive, after all. Tired, but alive. Dying, but not dead. Dying, but irked. Helovia seems to be full of fucking nosy people. Now, I have met many unicorns in my life. However, the newcomer seems to be some deformed oddity of the race I knew. The proud, regal horn that normally decorates their forehead hangs like a limp limb across his face, encasing a strange gem about his crown. His tail is awkwardly long, leonine in shape, but I think he is just... ugly, to put it bluntly. Whatever plans his lineage had for beauty missed the mark, as though he never fully grew into many of his attributes. I find that I can trust the unsightly mug much more quickly than the lady of graceful movements and the slyly eyed white stag who first approached me. I think nothing of his scars. Battle does not impress me. His companions do not frighten me. I am indifferent to these showy efforts, but am annoyed more so than yesterday. Instead of lashing out in irritation, though, my demeanor is cold. "I am not interested in your gilded words and surely preconditioned offers," I say finally, forcing the common tongue to flow from my mouth; a slow hiss of ice and venom. The last time I blindly followed a stranger's offer of aid I ended up in my shit position. "I have not earned such kindness, nor do I intend to." A life for a life. I don't want to live in debt. Am I really in a position to deny the help of others, at whatever the cost? Probably not. I have said this before, but I am not wise. I pause, my eyes trying to fixate on the features of anyone standing near me, but I just feel so fucking exhausted. "If that is alright, take me to these healers you keep babbling about; whatever is closest." Before I fall for the final time in this strange place. "" ooc -- Feel free to still reply, if you want kae. Just getting this moved along. And Jen, yes I am glad! Sorry Ryouta is a little rough, though. xD 誰がこの心のために殺されことを非難するのですか
Dare ga kono kokoro no tame ni korosa re koto o hinan suru nodesu ka?
@Lyanna RE: Lights Out. - Caneo - 07-09-2016
He's sorta leaving, but not quite probably until someone takes responsibility for carting Ryouta off. Sorry about the wait; got busy suddenly. RE: Lights Out. - Lyanna - 07-11-2016 @Ryouta RE: Lights Out. - Ashamin - 07-12-2016 ashamin lochan &rakt The white stag continued to be nothing more than annoyance. Ashamin's lip even curled slightly when the unicorn mentioned the Dragon Throat's terms of acceptance. Sure, the Basin hadn't exactly been a poster child for friendliness, but the fact that the desert isle would turn away the injured was, quite frankly, disappointing. Ashamin didn't know many that lived there, but he didn't like to think that Einarr was a part of a group that thought ill of the needy and would cast away those that needed him most. Then again... Ashamin hadn't seen Einarr in quite some time. The Clovenheart, weighted down as he was by all his woes, could have used a friendly face. And in their last spar hadn't Einarr simply left him in the cold, a reluctant winner by default? Despite the fact that a small rage began to simmer inside him, the painted buck did his best to swallow it. Now was not the time to show his disappointment in a herd he'd wanted to respect. Perhaps this white stallion was an outlier rather than a representative, even though he was serving the Dragon's Throat in the threshold. He chose to listen to the pegasi instead, pointing his large ears forward and listening to the remaining mare and stallion with interest. This stranger didn't seem to want much to do with herds or groups, which was fine, but Ashamin couldn't help but wonder why. "I have not earned such kindness, nor do I intend to." What sort of an attitude was that? An isolating one, and the sort that Ashamin couldn't help but want to assuage. The Clovenheart had never been very good at leaving well enough alone, though. Despite Lyanna's more official offer, he couldn't help but feel it was his duty (unlike the Dragon Throat's) to offer healing to this newcomer nonetheless. Besides, the Unbound may not have been blessed with God-given magic, but its two apprentice practitioners were, as far as Ashamin was concerned, good souls. He trusted them, and he suspected they would heal this stag with less fuss when he aimed to move on. "Lyanna is right. You needn't earn kindness, stranger. The Unbound shares its knowledge and alliance with those that need it; there is no need to prove oneself, no precondition." Ashamin tried his best to explain, unable to knock the earnestness out of his tone. He truly was that kind, even if it wasn't deserved. The Unbound were not trapped by obligation, though, this much was true. Were they loyal to each other, would they fight to protect each other and share what they knew? Of course. But Ashamin suspected this was not what this injured stag thought of when any sort of affiliation was proposed. "We have two practitioners, Seanan and a pegasus like yourself, Chaska. I spoke with Seanan not long ago just north of here in the Blood Falls, and Chaska spends time in these very woods. I expect they are both nearby, and if you would like I can provide you with rest nearby and send my companions to fetch them both." His long tail swayed behind him as he spoke, and his companions perked up when Ashamin mentioned them. They were a little more at ease now that the snake seemed to be leaving. Snakes, after all, were not to be trusted. "But the choice is yours. Should you decide to journey with Lyanna to the Edge I am sure you would also be in good care," Ashamin said with a gentle smile, though secretly he couldn't help but wonder if her offer was really considering his needs. The edge was no simple stop nearby and would either require a roundabout and longer route north or climbing up and down the steep mountainsides that surrounded the heavenly fields. Still, it wasn't his place to say, he could only hope that Lyanna would perhaps have a healer meet them half-way. "Regardless of your decision, know that you could always come to me or my allies for aid in the future, if you wished." Lochan and Rakt shifted, the former uncomfortably and the latter with little regard. Whatever this stranger chose, they were ready to be moving again. ""
The Clovenheart
image credits@Ryouta RE: Lights Out. - Ryouta - 07-12-2016 良克
Ryouta
Unnerving.
That is what I think of the ghost stallion and his snake, who waltzes away from the group just as cavalierly as he strode in. His words do not bother me, but the amusement at my suffering seems to crawl under my skin and eke out some sort of visceral distaste. The delighted tone in his voice, the ugly glint of black scales in his mane. A strange fellow and one that I am happy to abandon the company of at this point. "Yoi ichinichi o," I say in a dry, sarcastic tone as the white ass retreats, his figure slipping into the shadows of the trees and beyond my fuzzy vision. My head begins to droop, for the weight upon my shoulders grows heavy in exhaustion. Part of me wants the pair to revoke their offers, so that I can quietly lay by a tree until my wracking breath ceases. I said before death is not coming to me that easily, though. Every time my eyes close, every time my mind wanders, a familiar face jerks my body back to attention. A chain from my past dragging me forward, pulling on the guilt strapped heavily across broad shoulders. Every moment, every day, driving me on unwilling hooves toward nothingness. At the end of the road, oblivion waited in expectant silence. Flickering forward, my ears try to listen while my body shivers, and I cannot help but feel judgment piled behind the soft voice of the woman. I am no longer willing to feel anger burning in my stomach, but I hate being judged by strangers. I know nothing of her, nothing of her past, and she none of mine. In yet, I feel the edge of swords gleaming behind those turquoise eyes. "Iya," I whisper under my breath, listening to the offer to return with her to the World's Edge. If you don't find it to your liking. "It won't be." The sentence is flat, definitive, and I look at her with my mismatched eyes cold as ice. "Or were you not listening, yariman?" The meaning may not be understood, but my tone, despite the dehydration evident on my throat, is unmistakenably irritated. The girl doesn't deserve to face the brunt of my attitude, for she is trying to help. However, if you know anything about me at this point, it should be fairly evident I don't give a fuck what you deserve. The stallion with the flimsy horn speaks again, mentioning the Unbound, which I assume is the group he referred to earlier. Easy to garner information from, this Ashamin. Strange fate had landed me in the arms of kind strangers today. I almost feel sorry for my miserable attitude, my lack of appreciation, but I can't. Acting as though I am a spoiled brat, getting my way, regardless of the effect on others. I feel no entitlement to their offers, and, to be frank, I am surprised they did not kick my ass already. Pity for the dying must extend kindness quite a bit. "I appreciate it, Lyanna-," I don't, "-but I am going to decline." Having healers delivered to me sounds a lot easier than going wherever the World's Edge is. Were I my old self, I might have dreamt of seeing a place with such an intriguing name. Instead, I feel no urge, no desire, to find out why it was named such. I turn my head toward Ashamin, feeling lightheaded and distant, and my eyes soften for the first time since their arrival. For a shining moment, I resemble my younger self. Only a moment. "Water," is all I say, hoping the meaning is translated quite clearly. "" Yoi ichinichi o = have a good day yariman = bimbo 誰がこの心のために殺されことを非難するのですか
Dare ga kono kokoro no tame ni korosa re koto o hinan suru nodesu ka?
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