the Rift


[PRIVATE] a sadness runs through them

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#1
Cera
Go ahead, you're never going to take me - you can bend but you're never going to break me

Seeing Sikeax at Ampere's meeting had slammed into Cera's stomach like nothing else could. How long had it been since he'd met with his friend? Did she even consider him such, after how long he had ignored her, wallowing in the depths of his own misery alone? Cera could not blame her for not trying to help him, it did not even cross his mind to, even though it might have for her. He could blame nobody but himself for how far he'd fallen, scraping his knees on rock bottom until he'd splintered into diamond beneath the Moon Goddess' pressure. Still, he felt his own brand of guilt searing into his soul as he watched her talk and heard her news. How could he have forgotten her? Could she ever forgive him?

Maybe if you asked her yourself you'd know the answer, Ilaria sniffed from where she was flopped lazily over one of the flowering branches of the magnolia tree. Her tail dangled and twitched errantly, big brown eyes staring lazily down at where Cera was staring off at the sandy horizon. The Prince snorted, one hind hoof lifting to kick at the trunk of the tree. Ilaria squawked as it rattled the branch she was on, and a sting of displeasure in Cera's mind was immediate. The Prince couldn't help but grin, stupidly pleased by her irritation. But...she did have a point. So now you listen to me, the panda griped, but it was soothed by the ever-present waves of love that she exuded at all hours. Their bond was incredible close, even for the inherent nature of a companion bond. Cera's thoughts were never alone, not since he'd willfully kept Ilaria from his mind. He had regretted what he'd done, had vowed never to do it again. He was incomplete without her, not as good of a person, and he could find no good reason to even try to maintain his independence from her. 

One wing lifted high, brushing against the underside of the branch Ilaria was resting on. She acquiesced after a moment, rolling down his wing, careful of her claws as she scampered down to his withers. Patted the fishtail braid still remaining in his mane, and settled in for the ride. Cera cantered across the sands, wings unfurling and leaping into the sky without a second of hesitation. He had an inkling of where Sikeax was, even after all this time without speaking to her, and it was not a very long flight especially with such a good wind at his back. She was familiar, easy to spot, the blue at the base of her tail as notable as her horn on the pale backdrop of sand. He circled low, easing down before her, smile warm with only a tinge of hesitancy. What if she hated him?

"Hello, Sia."


Image Credit
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#2
Wings flap with unbridled ferocity, thrashing about in the air as if the bearer has forgotten how they work. Both of them know that he wears wings better than any of his other forms. He might even do better as a bird of some sort.
But today, Sikeax can’t help but wonder if his rightful place as a Rougarou is coming back around. That one feeling, the kind that you just can’t seem to put your finger on exactly, is almost permanent today. When he almost never changes, today chooses to be the one that challenges that idea; he’s just as fluid as the water, flinging himself through the air as if he’ll master all of his talents within a day’s time.
She doesn’t even like his new form. There’s something about it that makes her skin crawl, as if a thousand bugs have simultaneously began crawling against her hide. Why that? Why of all things…
A giant bat?
Her eyes never leave his body, listening to odd, new noises he puts out in attempts to socialize. He isn’t even as ferocious as he typically is, only weird.
In the end, he does exactly what she expects him to do. His new found weight and constant shifting drains the energy out of him, and when he comes down to greet her, landing on soft paws and built into a body black as night, for once, she has the baby she actually cares for.
The one in her womb doesn’t seem to exist, leading her to  worry even more now. How would the herd look at her if she was indeed pregnant, and the child was born dead, unknowing of the cruel world that she’d let it be brought into it? Would they all look at with cold eyes and hateful stares for a life lost?
It is her baby, and if it comes along dead, then is it not her fault?
Pressure gathers in her gut when her brother’s weight throws itself into her, snuggling into her with a purr she’d hardly expected. He offers her a lot more when she drags her muzzle across his pelt, using his legs to pull himself closer to her stom-
Annoyance.
It flickers like the spark that begins a massive wildfire, threatening with every intention set towards torture. The serval is traded in for the typical Wyvern  when she watches black fur be replaced by silver, leathery wings, large ears made into spikes and quite possibly horns. A hiss slithers out, paired with a forked tongue.
Whatever eye contact she makes with Cera is unintentional. It’s been so long since he’d even cared to speak to her. Did he pay attention to her in the herd meetings, or was she only another face in the crowd, a name upon a list that will lengthen and shorten with the passing of seasons, courtesy of various causes?
She takes a moment to really stare. For once in her life, she isn’t sure as of how to feel about him. He’d always been so kind, so loving and friendly and willing to put up with all the things that she’d done, and after all of the things they’d done together, he seemed to have forgotten and ignored her.
Hobgoblin snarls as her chest clutches and draws tight.
“Bastard.”
But that’s not what Cera is, is he? He almost gave his life up for her. He was her friend, was he not?
There really wasn’t much time to think that over when the person you’re debating trusting or not is standing behind you, having just called out a nickname you barely even hear these days.
She gives in in the end. Cera is her friend, maybe one of the last and only ones she’ll ever have, high up there with Amara because one way or another, they find a way to come back.
“Hey, Cera.”
Please calm down, he’s a friend. Think of Amara. Friend like that.
Getting up feels difficult when she’s been lying on the ground through the night and the majority of the day, wincing when her muscles are sore from their extended misuse. The same old feeling is fast to find itself wrapped about the area around her ears, gripping her dark, dreadlocked mane. Both wings are spread and held close to his body, flaunting his size in case of anything.
“You fuck like Amara?”
We’ve never had sex. Abraham was the only one.
“But baby with both?”

There’s nothing to shut him up with and not much to build a straight face upon when she approaches Cera. If she made a face now, he’d probably think she was crazy, that the depression finally gave her some other mental illness.
“How have things been?”
She can’t even begin to think of a conversation even when she wants to touch him, to see if he’s real like Amara, Hobgoblin and Sameira. The desert could’ve easily gotten to her brain. “I thought you forgot about me.”
Not like anyone else has before.


"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"
Sikeax;
i'm missing the beauty in your soul


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#3
Cera
Go ahead, you're never going to take me - you can bend but you're never going to break me

It feels like limbo, standing before her but feeling miles and miles away from her. I don't deserve her, he states simply, and Ilaria merely sighs and unravels his braid to start anew upon it as the two pale children of the sand stare at one another in silence. There's nothing she can say to make him feel any differently, not when he'd grown strong enough to shoulder the weight of his own mistakes. He owned his depression, owned the fact that he'd disappeared into a hole, a machine that accepted tasks and reacted with no spirit. It was her job to always find him worthy, in a way. They were made as complimentary souls after all, and so she loved him eternally where he could not love himself. Such was the life of a companion. 

"Hey, Cera." They're such simple words, lacking any and all formality, and they echo his own. But he still feels wrong. She had been his friend, he had been prepared to die for her, still would regardless of how she felt for him anymore. He still had the faded scars across each of his shoulders to remember the evening, grappling with a veritable cougar to save Sikeax from its claws. But he hadn't proved that to her, with how he'd disappeared. He hadn't taken the time to tell her that she meant something to him, that she was one of the only individuals alive he could truly call his friend. Who had been from the start. She deserved a better kind of friendship than he could offer. But at least he could offer something, right?

She staggers to her hooves, and he makes an aborted move toward her, shoulder very apparently bared and wing tucking. The look in his eyes is purposeful, and though he believes she won't take the offer, he does it nonetheless. Inches forward as she talks, a bit of a hangdog look about him - Ilaria sighs softly, as if it doesn't win her over, too - and wonders if she will deny him if he tries to touch her. He deserved the sting of her rejection, at least. Especially for how her words form and grace his ears, wondering how he is, how he'd been, when all he'd given her was desertion. At least it's followed by something a bit more bitter and truthful, and his eyes flicker down towards their hooves for a moment to spare her the guilt that twists his features and locks his jaw for a brief moment. 

He can't answer the former without first answering the latter, and so he bravely lifts his head - still a child, with boyish grin and green doe eyes, but a man for how he confronts his own mistakes in the planes of her tired face - and tries to do right by her. "I lost everything for a while there," he explains softly, eyes soft like liquid evergreens. "I couldn't see everyone that was there for me, waiting for me to pick myself back up, and I'm sorry." His head shakes in disbelief at his own inadequate words, face contorting in a brief moment of self-hatred. "No...I can't really explain how badly I regret what I did. I was so far down, so deep, I couldn't see light any longer. I never should have ignored you, no matter how bad it got." His voice never trembles, and Cera accepts the weight of his own foolish mistakes without pause. Ilaria coos softly at him even as her big umber eyes turn to Sikeax, whom she'd adored since their very first meeting. They are a pair, and while Ilaria could not hold conversation with Sikeax to plead forgiveness, she still sought it in her own way even with her bridled independence. 

"You don't have to forgive me," he breathes quietly, though it hurts to imagine the possibility. "But...I'd like to try and be friends again. Properly. Even if I don't really deserve it." The rest they could figure out.

Image Credit
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#4
Ice has done a lovely job in forming over her heart and soul, placing a barrier against her and the world. Hobgoblin’s personality only fortifies it more. Blue eyes are tired and broken, tempted to allow Cera back into her world with open arms, just as he attempts to do with a single wing, prepared to greet her with what she expects to be trust and caring words that she’d long believed to be banished from this God forsaken world.
Red irises embedded deep in the Rougarou’s scaled, silver head are hard, set with suspicion. Wings collect along his side once they’re removed from their defensive position, shuffling with a long hiss at the stallion’s approach. Cera has yet to win him over, and with the weight that he is subjected to bare, there is no chance of that in this very moment. Sia whimpers beneath him when his talons grapple her chocolate mane, having found her honey hide, tucked into hiding by her dreadlocked hair. Blood slithers from the cuts.
She is built up to be scared and harsh, bitter and hateful because the world has shaped her in such a brutal fashion that there is no other way that she can imagine herself being, pictured almost perfectly when his approach is repelled, backing up with her tail tucked between her legs and ears pulled down in fear. Fuel is added to the flames when she is left to question all of his motives. Does he still want me as a friend? Hobgoblin feels something in response to her worries, but whatever it is, the feeling he bares between the two of them is so fleeting and secluded that she can’t find the words to define it.
She merely guesses he wants nothing to do with Cera. Rejecting him for what he’s done, how he’s treated her and how neglected, abandoned, worthless she’s felt in all of the time that she's been alone and forgotten, every bit of his suggestion feels correct, given that it has enough evidence to back it up. It appeared as if Cera only wanted her for healing when he was wounded and friendship through her sunny days, but never the rainy days where the world was crashing down around her. When she had been there to aid in shouldering his pain, to assure him that he had importance in this world beyond what his eyes could see, he repaid her by tossing her aside as if she was an old ragdoll that could be quickly replaced by a newer version. It gave her an empty world, ridiculed with storms of depression and wildfires of anxiety, driven by the fact her personal worth is only seen through the work she selfishlessly does regardless of illness and broken hearts, not by the love and affection she tries to give infinitely to her friends, those whom she calls family without a second thought as of if they think of her as the same.
She is but a pawn in their world, unknown and worthless to the other herds, just another face in the crowd that is meant to serve selflessly in exchange of safety, food and a home instead of love, friendship, and family.
A mocking chirp flutters from around her ears, looking up to see Cera’s green eyes downcast to the sand, far from her view. She doesn’t blame him, nor does she punish her companion for intending to insult the boy’s feelings even more.
Stone-cold sapphires meet youthful emeralds, ears brought forth to listen to what he’s got to say. It’s a right now. They’re both so deep into one another's presence and tied by a possibly dead friendship that denying him his right to ask for forgiveness would be worthy of the title of a sin.
“Sia ignore bastard. Bastard no deserve forgiveness.”
The motives line up again, but she is not that cruel of a person. A saint must keep their vows even in the depths of hell as they burn and are tempted by their inner demons.
Every bit of her tells her to forgive when they shared the same fate at the same time, to get over the fact that he had those willing to help him when she had no one but herself, too embarrassed to ask for help and too worried of becoming someone’s burden.
Silence drags out over them like a plague following his apology. Sikeax breaks it with a sigh, closing baby blues with her pale, sand-clotted lashes dancing with the descent of her eyelids. Curiosity flickers in a fire of hatred like a burning piece of paper, quick to disappear in the fray. A low squeak whispers from the Wyvern’s jaws in an attempt to win her over with affection.
“No deserve pity. No deserve friendship. Bastard worthless.”
Hobgoblin’s honesty is cruel but she can’t seem to find a way to listen to it. He’ll call her weak in the future for it, though for now, she can bare the weight of her heart and attempt to make due with what little trust she has left over.
“You’re the first one in forever to seek me out, probably the only one in the herd that I’m aware of who's cared to notice. It’d be childish and selfish to assault you verbally when you’ve come to apologize and have gave me enough to understand why you weren’t around.” Especially when I needed you most. I would of been nothing more than a burden to your pain.
She tries to gather enough strength to look him in the eyes while her heart feels like a half ton boulder placed on her chest. If she was younger, she might of cried, but all of her tears have run dry these days. “I guess your efforts are enough to show maybe you still see me as a friend when many don’t.” Half of her entire soul peels out a growl to her. It runs a shiver down her spine because it’s felt like years since he’s last threatened her so visibly.
“If we’re both able to make up for time lost, I’d like to accept your apology and try to become friends again.”
There's nothing else left to give him except time and her trust, pushed by hope that runs off the miracle of an idea that things might get better if they both try hard enough.

OOC: Why have you got to give me feels? Seriously bro I feel like every time we thread these two together I get feels

"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"
Sikeax;
i'm missing the beauty in your soul


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#5
Our eyes were closed with hearts opened wide

Ilaria hisses right back at Hobgoblin, her thick tail swinging catlike over Cera's shoulder. She has the soul of a medic and a caregiver, but an iron will that even Cera cannot bend at times. Stop, Cera commands, though his eyes do not leave Sikeax even as his head hangs just a touch lower than hers if only for the sake of showing his grief over what he'd done to her. Submission in its subtlest form. She could have sought you out too, and her companion has no right to judge you, she snapped right back, and Cera gave a soft sigh that expanded his thin frame and deflated him just as quickly. Luckily, or unluckily, Ilaria was distracted from her cause by Hobgoblin sinking his talons into Sikeax, drawing forth a shuddering wince that had Ilaria leaping into action. She slid down Cera's leg and ran on soft paws over to Sikeax, seeking to touch her and use her healing magic, a soft unhappy noise thrumming in her throat as intense hazel eyes narrowed at the other companion. Companions do not HURT their BONDED! It was like a screaming tornado of fire inside Cera's head, intense enough that his ears flattened and his eyes crinkled against the noise that only he could hear. You also do not have claws, he pointed out weakly, for even he wasn't sure how far this went. 

The silence was prolonged between them, and Cera's discomfort grew alongside Ilaria's disgust until he was torn. He wanted to defend himself, but how could he when he was here asking for forgiveness? It was so incredibly backwards. How could he barb and sharpen his tongue against her, when he was intending to apologize? But he wanted to, because he could feel in some way the dull hatred aimed his way. His wings shuffled and jerked against his will, for he'd always been far too connected to his heart, incapable of hiding every emotion he ever felt. It had always felt like lying, and Cera had always held intense disdain for that particular vice. 

When she did finally speak, Ilaria finally retreated to Cera's hoof, curling herself and staring balefully at Hobgoblin. His cheek twitched with all the words he wanted to say, but he instead turned his head away from her and took a deep breath. It would do no good really. Heated words had always screwed things up for him, it was why he'd vowed to rid himself of the darkness that had plagued him for countless seasons. A child of the light may have the ability to leash and use the flames of their sign and element, but it did not mean they should. Even his Lord had fallen to that, back when he'd burned the world and been cast down as surely as his sister had been. Cera would learn from that example. 

Sikeax was his friend. Whether she saw that or not...and it hit him like a flare of brilliance in his brain exactly what he needed to do, what he needed to say. As if aware he would move before he made the conscious decision to, Ilaria unwound from his ankle and sat poised on the sand, watching him with big, intelligent eyes. 

Cera moved a few steps closer to Sikeax, dipping his head to each shoulder where faint scars from the cat he'd saved her from still resided. They were not nearly as noticeable as his other scars, but they still existed. Like written words on the pages of his skin that reminded him that he led a life worth living. One that included Sikeax. 

"I notice you. I always have. The others? The herd? They may be blind to you but I am not. I wear the proof of my feelings for you, and even you cannot deny them, regardless of how I failed you." Ilaria huffed inside his head at that, their bond twinging with disapproval, but Cera ignored that the best he could. You failed nobody. You are mortal, you have feelings. You are the foremost important thing, you had to take care of yourself first before you could ever help her. She is being selfish. Cera shoved her from his mind, knowing she would always defend him first, and he could not handle that right now. Not when he needed to be defending Sikeax, showing her how he felt. 

"I abandoned everybody. I needed to take care of myself before I could ever take care of you, because if I came to you again in that state, I would have been taking advantage of you and your kindness. But you are not invisible, and you never will be. I accept my faults, and I hope to prove that I deserve the forgiveness you've given me..." that was what was important, that she forgave him at all, still saw him as a potential friend. "You will always be my friend, even if you never forgive me. And I will wear these proudly until the day I meet the Gods." Emerald eyes flashed as he lifted them to tired blues, knowing there was nothing else he could say to try and prove himself to her. 



@Sikeax sorry it took so long, finals and holidays ate me!
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

smitty the swift Posts: 22
Administrator
Mare :: Other :: 1 :: 1
#6
unarchived per request


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