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02-21-2016, 12:10 PM
What was this place?
Helovia.
The World’s Edge.
He had been told the names but what were names supposed to mean without a history, without knowledge? Nothing. This world, with all that was in it, was still a centerless gaping void. He was a centerless gaping void. For all his life he had been a vessel for the will of others, for the will of Gods, and now he was empty of their influence and just so fucking empty. In the seasons since he had arrived here the stallion had tried to scrape together his sense of self from nothing. Wants, memories, hopes, needs, fears, all the things that made up a person he had tried to pick out of thin air and build himself on no foundation except what he knew had been taken from him, what he had been taken from.
Without Naja he might have simply stopped existing, but she had pulled him into her orbit and given him a purpose and a name. Iscah Was that enough of a foundation? He kept trying to build, brick by brick but beyond the day to day functions of eating and sleeping and breathing he could not escape that feeling that everything he made was so horribly insubstantial.
It was worse when she was gone. He could not focus on her, the reassuring solidity of her need. With Naja he could be calm, because she needed calm; he could be strong be strong because she needed strength. Those rare moments, like now, when Iscah found himself alone he was faced with everything he lacked.
In the stillness of the the morning the indigo beast stood on his own, desperately trying to keep from being consumed by the sucking nothingness. Outwardly so tranquil, as always, he might have been sleeping, eyes closed and breathing evenly, Inside he was screaming, all he was a was trying to be calling out for some kind of peace, for surety of who in all the hells this Iscah was and was supposed to be.
For a moment, just a moment, the giant cracked. He let out a deep desperate growl and expelled some of the frustration, violence he might have done to his own flesh [such worthless, empty flesh] if he could. With a single jerking movement his body convulsed, sending a might bucking kick out behind him. Silver flints struck a thick tree behind him and the impact resounded through the snowy forrest with a mighty crack. Then the priest stilled once more, breathing deeply in the frosty air.
"."
Helovia.
The World’s Edge.
He had been told the names but what were names supposed to mean without a history, without knowledge? Nothing. This world, with all that was in it, was still a centerless gaping void. He was a centerless gaping void. For all his life he had been a vessel for the will of others, for the will of Gods, and now he was empty of their influence and just so fucking empty. In the seasons since he had arrived here the stallion had tried to scrape together his sense of self from nothing. Wants, memories, hopes, needs, fears, all the things that made up a person he had tried to pick out of thin air and build himself on no foundation except what he knew had been taken from him, what he had been taken from.
Without Naja he might have simply stopped existing, but she had pulled him into her orbit and given him a purpose and a name. Iscah Was that enough of a foundation? He kept trying to build, brick by brick but beyond the day to day functions of eating and sleeping and breathing he could not escape that feeling that everything he made was so horribly insubstantial.
It was worse when she was gone. He could not focus on her, the reassuring solidity of her need. With Naja he could be calm, because she needed calm; he could be strong be strong because she needed strength. Those rare moments, like now, when Iscah found himself alone he was faced with everything he lacked.
In the stillness of the the morning the indigo beast stood on his own, desperately trying to keep from being consumed by the sucking nothingness. Outwardly so tranquil, as always, he might have been sleeping, eyes closed and breathing evenly, Inside he was screaming, all he was a was trying to be calling out for some kind of peace, for surety of who in all the hells this Iscah was and was supposed to be.
For a moment, just a moment, the giant cracked. He let out a deep desperate growl and expelled some of the frustration, violence he might have done to his own flesh [such worthless, empty flesh] if he could. With a single jerking movement his body convulsed, sending a might bucking kick out behind him. Silver flints struck a thick tree behind him and the impact resounded through the snowy forrest with a mighty crack. Then the priest stilled once more, breathing deeply in the frosty air.
"."
Please give me time to decipher the signs
Please forgive me for time that I've wasted
