.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
04-24-2013, 08:51 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-24-2013, 12:09 PM by Prometheus.)
|
I should not be surprised that he has caught me on this technicality. You had warned me, but though I respect your opinion, I found it more worthwhile to take my own advice. I was, in my own way, powerful enough to stand up to a god. I may be ungrateful, but I am audacious. My lack of fear becomes my strength in the face of his fire. And what a fire it is. He appeared out of nothingness, sucking the moisture from the air and then becoming flame before us. He is impressive, but he is prideful, and this will be his downfall. If, that is, a God can fall further than this. You think the same of me, but I choose blindness over enlightenment. My delusions of grandeur keep me entertained and distracted from my half life in this bore-some mortal coil. I am somewhat entertained by the God's spat words of annoyance, but I feel no shame for what I have done. The quest is complete enough- I spent long enough wandering and searching. But should he deny me now, I will find it difficult to find more disdain in myself for the God. He has proven himself a pompous ass, now is no exception. But for some reason, perhaps the intimacy of my rebirth, neither the god or I have snapped. We have maintained some sort of equilibrium of distanced dislike, but never has it been active. I am too apathetic for him to elicit rage within me, even now. The comfort of your downy white coat against my hollowed, rotting legs bolsters me. The god speaks the name of the mare, I assume, that gifted me with her feather. Strange, I had not realized until now how little I know of her. Still, it is easy enough to assume. "What one feels in their heart triumphs their blood. The beautiful mare that hides her horn behind the wings of a phoenix in her final moments is no more a unicorn than the bird that dies imparting her gift," I begin with a gentle fold of my skeleton's wings, the faint whisper of my colt's voice amplified in the stiff silence hanging between us. "And what," I add, "can be more willing and alive than a gift from the dying? She lived then, and perhaps she does even still. We both know that death is ill defined." My comment is final and assured. Should he send me away still I am unsure if I will return. If he denies the complexity of death and the heart now, after seeing all he has seen and after providing to me as much as he has, he is truly a fool. Perhaps all gods are fools driven mad with their power. Am I not in such a state of unbalanced pride and hate? Do I not think myself a god, when I am no more than a scrap of rotting flesh that was undeservedly granted life? Your mind lies devoid of answers. Perhaps you are protecting me now, as I have never done for you. You do not wish to hurt me- the purity of your loyalty is staggering even still. [[I had initially intended to take Ghost's wings, but Imi put her up for adoption. I think she has since been adopted, but I am unsure if the new rper is active. In hindsight, she is a hybrid- if the Sun God decides to reject Tares' wings and Prometheus has to go find others, will Ghost's work or should I seek those of a pureblooded pegasus?]]  |
![[Image: siggy1_zpsfwdjquxw.png]](http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg246/abbie3321451/abbie3321451131/siggy1_zpsfwdjquxw.png)
please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
