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04-23-2015, 10:33 PM
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ULRIK the ENGINEER
Stupid. Foolish. Wildly illogical. Rarely were these words ever used to describe his actions, and yet here he was abandoning the powder-white safe haven of his home for the jungles of emotional and social madness. These were forest he had never before traversed, at least not in such tangible ways. His birth-home had burned to the ground, the effects weighing on Torleik and Bolverik far more. Ulrik had left his mother behind as he ventured far and wide with his rough, dim-witted outcast band, and she had died, wreathed in flame. He had not been there or spoken to her in years. In fact, he barely remembered feeling sadness at all. For so long, Ulrik had abandoned his own feelings for logic and reason. The world followed patterns, a grand machine, and he was only one, predictable part of that glorious equation. In the end, his petty griping would not change the pathway of the universe, and raging against it would only make him miserable. Thus, he had lived quite a fulfilled and happy life, engaging with his machines and letting everyone’s troubles roll off of him like rain. Only Illynx had shown him that there even could be more – that having a child would open doors he never thought he deserved. Then… she left. She took their son with her, and that ache did not so easily go away. Perhaps that was why he returned. Along his timeline, the blocks to his emotions were slowly lifted, and he wanted to release them with Essetia. As he walked, he realized more and more that he had no idea why he was going back at all. After speaking with Roskuld, the urge crawled into his gut, offering no explanation whatsoever. Never the type to show much self-restraint, he simply followed the urge, knowing that it was a terrible idea. Ulrik had never walked into such a bad idea before, and the very thought was incredibly uncomfortable. Kirchoff had little more to offer than he did, and the hellhound only encouraged him through their mental bond. The hellhound was rather silent on his common and cutting judgments regarding Ulrik, finding this side of him less dense than his socially inept, brilliant apathy. For days, the black wolf followed without question, skirting the body of Midas for the narrow path leading to the apex of a small, isolated mountain. Cloven hoof and paw walked side-by-side as the two moved up the path, and as they crested the large hill, Ulrik felt rather exposed. He had come here maybe once before, but this was not his preferred location of leisure. The sharp sides and cloud line obscured his footing, and he had a natural (and perfectly reasonable) fear of heights. But, he knew that he had to look for Essetia. When she walked away, she did not embrace her kin with the same sadness and loathing. She had seemed lost. Even he had been plagued by the weight of their blame, their accusations bearing down upon his massive shoulders. He hated them for their selfish stupidity and loathed them for blaming him for their own inadequacies. Yet, he kept his velvet lips firmly shut, choosing instead to take the brunt of their anger in turn. The mass that hung from his heart had been great, but that was like a shadow now… interesting. Ulrik noticed that she was not up here – not so high. With a sigh, he turned and ambled down narrow path, but all was not lost. He was able to spot her red pelt from his current altitude, and he descended rapidly, his cloven hooves aiding in his excellent footing. She was drinking from a stream on an embankment, and he assumed they were close to the Hidden Falls from the distant roar of cascading water. The stallion approached slowly, neck lowered like a wolf entering strange territory. His lion’s tail hung low at his hips, swaying with each, massive stride. What was she looking at in the water? Herself? He had never paid much mind to his appearance – as evidenced by the sticks and knots stuck in his thick, black mane. All he knew was that he had two horns, had a black and bronze coat, and that his eyes were metallic – very little. The stallion cleared his throat. “I will go if you tell me, but I wanted to ensure you’re….” He trailed, not exactly sure what he wanted to say. “Are you all right?” he finally asked after a long pause. Even that sounded stupid. “Nevermind. Obviously not. Are you going to be all right?” he finally rephrased. All of these social conformities were stifling, and he stood stiffly a few yards away. |
@[Essetia]
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