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rhoa
these seconds when i'm shaking leave me shuddering for days |
@Zenobia
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[OPEN] kindness falls like rain
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@Zenobia
12-17-2015, 02:26 AM
Ivezho
"Rhoa," it is a breath on the breeze, a suggestion, a passing sentiment, a forgotten memory. A brief and precious moment, where one brother sees his twin and wants so desperately to reach out, to run and jump and play like they did when they were so much smaller and younger, without these years of time and leagues of distance stretched between them. Without the awkwardness of his silence and avoidance, without the unavoidable journey he followed his mother on, without the feelings of sheer betrayal and hurt and confusion caused by something so stupid like not knowing what the fuck to say when you saw him again. What was there to say? Everything - and yet, nothing at all. What did brothers have to say to each other? Brothers with a past like they had, surely had plenty to say to each other. I love you, he wanted to say, yet the thought of it terrified him. I hate that we are this way, he wanted to proclaim, but the fear of having to shoulder so much of the responsibility as to why they were this way frightened him. I am weak, hopeless, nothing without you, he wanted to shake his brother until he understood just how much he meant to him. Rhoa, his brother, his twin, they were meant to be together always, but they weren't - could they fix this? Ivezho was hoping, praying (to who, he didn't know anymore), betting that they could. Perhaps the odds would be against him. Perhaps he was a fool walking into a pit of hungry, ravenous snakes, as deadly as his father's companion. Or maybe he was finally heading towards somewhere right. "I fucked up, brother." His voice was rough, deep, his chords having adjusted since testosterone flooded his veins. Bright, viridian eyes sought out the gaze of his brother's teal gaze, as he pleaded to his twin to at least acknowledge his existence. Long, limber legs walked his lanky body near him, the sound of the bloody waterfall crashed somewhere in the distance - but he only saw the stallion before him, and the fracture kinship that separated them. @Rhoa I SAW AN OPEN RHOA THREAD I POUNCED. veerdesigns | larfsalot on deviantart
12-18-2015, 12:22 PM
@Zenobia
12-19-2015, 06:26 PM
Ivezho
"No," he rebuffs, even as he heard the words, as he watched his brother's actions - or inaction, as it were. No, he kept thinking, I'm too late, I'm too late, he panicked - for he looked at his brother, at his world, and all he saw was a dead man, a husk, a shell of what used to be so brilliant and passionate and vibrant. Ivezho may be a glowsitck, but whatever it was that glowed within him glowed because he had a brother who was magnificent and strong, a family who were passionate and great - but no, that wasn't what he saw, it wasn't what Rhoa was anymore - he is broken, he is dead, look at him, I'm too late - Was it a curse of siblings to always think better of the other, and always worse of one's self? Was it a curse to always believe that your life revolved around the other's existence, however great or small, to measure one's own failures against all of their successes? Ivezho thought so. Because what then happened when you saw your sibling begin to flag, to fade, to succumb to their ghosts and demons and whatever else has happened to them while you were gone? You still measured your failures against theirs, and still found yourself to be worse - for if my better half is walking like a dead man risen, what one earth am I? Am I dead? Fear cut through him as he watched the dejected, posture of his sibling, crouched and pondering over god-knows-what. I've killed him, kinslayer kinslayer they'll call me, no no, this can't be right- a spark of life seemed to leap through his body as his generous wingspan spread, his façade came to meet his own head on. Sometimes that happens he said, and Ivezho wanted to bark a laugh out - Rhoa always made him laugh, always knew just what to say, while he was left fumbling for words, socially awkward and silent and left behind (or leaving). But he just kept looking at his brother, his twin in body and build (but his opposite otherwise, with his dark hues and his wisdom), and he wanted more from him, more life, more anger, more… "Bullshit." The words were spoken harshly, with a tongue that ordinarily avoided such truncated, rogue words to get his point across. "Bullshit," he said again, allowing his words to be coloured by the anger and frustration (and fear) he felt. "You're wrong, life isn't meant to be like this. Not for us. Never for us." He wanted to shake his brother, to wake him up. He wanted to feel Rhoa's rage, to unlock the beast, to atone for the wrong's he had done to him by receiving his wrath without obstacle. "I fucked up, royally, Rhoa. You're meant to be, to be, I don't know.." he wanted to cry, but he swallowed the sobs down his gullet in a rough estimation of a cough between words. "You're supposed to hate me," he pleaded, wanting to feel his brother's hate, for surely that would be better than receiving this nothing, this void. @Rhoa veerdesigns | larfsalot on deviantart | |||||||||||||
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