the Rift


[PRIVATE] can't go back now

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
#1

SIKEAX
i never said i'd stay to the end



Pressure is greeted at her shoulder, moving into her ribcage and sinking backwards. Sleep flutters out of her eyes at a pace that leaves her groggy, tired and with heavy lids, nearly making the return without even acknowledging the increase of it. If it was one of her children, then they could have easily taken up their problems with Hobgoblin. If it was the baby, well, the pain wasn’t that bad, barely enough to rouse her from slumber.
So therefore it must be Hobgoblin or one of her children coming to stir her from her long awaited midday nap.
“Need awake.”
“Mmmm…” Annoyance ripples across his features at her humming. Sikeax’s laziness had increased over the last weeks, spending days under a tree, nestled into the grass and doing nothing but sleeping. At any call that she received, she was slower, less willing to go, mumbling out curses to whoever needed her. The presence of a baby had turned her around completely.
“You need up. You fat.”
“Hobgoblin,” her voice tightens, grows a touch of seriousness as life visibly makes its way back into her. A lone yawn pushes out. “I’m more than aware of that. It’ll go away when I give birth.” Joints ache in agony at her gained weight, groaning because the pressure of Hobgoblin’s weight more thoroughly thrown onto her is enough to get her up. Leopard seals, especially when beached far, far inland, are no longer light and agile creatures as she was used to seeing him be.
The oasis details itself at a slow pace, squinting baby blues as the mixture of green, blue, red and orange at last turns into distant water - I could really go for a swim right now -, trees and foliage that kindly reminds her of the increased hunger she has been experiencing, now more fully aware of her symptoms now that panic isn’t plaguing her, and an endless sea of bright coloured sand. Heat burrows into her skin. The uncomfortable awareness that she has neglected venturing into the desert to gather Aloe Vera strikes her; she’ll have to face the sun’s wrath head on and pay for her neglect later.
A quick mental note is also made to check up on the herbs she has available in the oasis before going. I should bring someone with as well.
Hobgoblin has changed, standing before her, still in her shade, yellow eyes haunting her as his tail flicks idly. In return for his appearance of impatience, he receives a tired lifting of the area above her eyes, ears hung without attention and a dazed expression that overall says that she won’t be fully awake for at least thirty more minutes.
“Tell Golden today?”
There is little effort done from him to hide his disappointment and gathering anger at the sigh she thrusts out in response. She had been avoiding it for some time out of fear. Volterra’s reaction to Zhu was not the best, and after finding Tyrath abandoned in the desert, she heavily doubts the capabilities of parenting for those in the Dragon’s Throat.
But then again, it was Cera, who clung on with love and bravery, daring to rebuild friendships when they seemed to have been left long ago, staying true to promises that always seem to say ‘I’ll be back someday.’ She could trust him with parenting. She could trust him with anything, honestly. A baby would be no different.
Her first steps are slow, gradual, small, sharply contrasting against Hobgoblin’s spread stride as his slender body sprints across the sea of sand and grass, already on the search for Cera. Having to lug around Sikeax’s fat body would make the trip longer than intended and would of course include her complaints about sunburns.
Another thing about Sikeax being pregnant that he had learned: she liked to complain more during it.
So it is when that he finds the golden, winged boy man, in the oasis doing whatever it is that he does with his spare time, that she receives his best announcement for the situation.
“Found boy toy.”
Disgust switches faces as it surges across her own, frowning intensely at even the idea of Cera having that title.
He is not my boy toy.
“Baby daddy? Seed supplier? Got a dick?”
Somewhere,
oh she doesn’t know exactly where but somewhere, Hobgoblin is letting himself laugh in his utmost pleasure at Sikeax’s rage. He’s succeeding in pissing her off faster than usual. Another thing about pregnant Sikeax: hormones made it easier to enrage her. At this point, he’s going to need a list for the future.
“Extra skullface. Baby Maker 2.0”
Her arrival brings a scowl over her face, watching as a long sigh heaves from her nostrils, slowly.
Fuck you.
Game, set and match is all that he can think of now. He’s won.
Cera’s presence brings a bit of comfort to her, seeking out his touch with muzzle extended and nicker softly purring from her lips. She can do this. There is nothing wrong with having to tell your best friend that you’re pregnant.
Except that it’s their child.
“Cera.” His name hums free of her vocal cords like a bird’s song, all beauty and grace. “I need to tell you something.” At this point she questions if she should let him guess or tell him straight out. The evidence is painted all over her. She’s too far gone to hide it anymore.
“You’re going to be a dad sometime soon.” Oh, how hard it feels to push those words out of her lips, masking her fear and worry with her search to brush her cheek against him, trying to appear loving, caring, lightly excited when in reality, her heart is clutched in her throat and choking her. Little prayers to the Sun God are filling up her head.
Please let him take the news well.

OOC: screaming
Hobgoblin is in his Serval form when he finds Cera.


songs about happiness, murmured in dreams,
when both us knew how the end always is


image credit

@Cera


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
#2
Cera & Ilaria
And how you were so gentle with my heart
Just as you always are


Recovering his relationship with Ranjiri after her departure to the Hidden Falls, and all the gratuitous crafting blueprints he'd done in the past few moons had done wonders for the Golden Prince. Though his load was ever growing now that his fellow Forger and sister had left the herd, he tackled it with the same eagerness he was known for, a smile on his face and hope singing a lilting song inside his heart. He had grown so much, weathered every storm the cruel world had thrown at him. He had embraced adulthood with fumbling awkwardness, but finally he had found his niche and happily swallowed any empty space around it. 

Crafting was in his blood, and he took its gleaming mantle with fervor once more in the wake of his sister's departure. He may never rise from the position he had been given as barely an adolescent, but that would be enough. So long as he could support and aid his family...Cera did not care what position they gave him. The desert was in his blood, the sun in his skin, and he could not falter because of his own loneliness without his family. 

And Sikeax? Ilaria's voice caused a flush to cross the Prince's face. Adult or no, Cera had been entirely innocent before his night comforting Sikeax. Instinct and a desire to help her, heal her, had been all that had guided him that evening. And it was still an embarrassing thing to recall, though he did not necessarily regret it. While he certainly loved Sikeax, deeply and without borders, there was only a faded, childish romantic love that lingered any longer for the pale woman. He did not know how he felt about the future, unsure of how she felt as well. They had not spoken frankly about their feelings, and more than anything Cera feared hurting or upsetting the fragile, wonderful woman. 

He intends to seek her out, ask after her health and her state of mind after finding her so beaten down and withdrawn. But she is ahead of the game, and Ilaria tugs on his mane obnoxiously until he turns to let his eyes fall upon the Serval that has appeared to fetch him. He is not familiar with all of the creature's forms, but he follows it nonetheless, regardless of who the companion is bonded to. Clearly he was the one intended to be fetched, and he had not been doing much with his evening in the first place. 

Cera's heart trips in his chest as Sikeax's pale honey form separates from the blurred, indistinct landscape of sand around her. Ilaria rolls her eyes and Cera can sense her fond exasperation. She will understand. You are best friends. But what they had done together...Cera didn't know if she hated him, if she thought he had somehow taken advantage of her in her emotional state. He had been fretting over it ever since that night. Perhaps his fears would be put to rest by her own words. 

The Golden moves to embrace her in turn, muzzles sliding softly together in tentative but familiar greeting. Cera smiles, a slight, little thing but not lacking in warmth or affection. 

"I need to tell you something."

Ilaria is the one who figures it out first, before Sikeax reveals it. Her shocked gasp in his head distracts him, too captured by Sikeax's eyes to focus on her swollen sides. But it doesn't seem to matter, the woman powers forth and sweeps the curtain aside, and Cera is slammed with the truth. He nearly swallows his tongue, eyes going wide and breath stuttering in intense, unrelenting shock. 

"You're going to be a dad sometime soon."

"You're going to be a dad..."

"...be a dad..."

"dad"


His mind flickers like a reel of pictures through himself as a child, Hototo, Ranjiri, Ryuu. His own child, a son or daughter. His own blood.

Oh gods.

Family.

An orphan with no blood to call his own, and here is Sikeax, telling him nervously that his family line (whatever history exists beyond the sands he'd been abandoned on) will continue. With her. With the baby. A foal. 

A shouted bugle of excitement rips through his throat and he lunges for her, eyes bright and mouth grinning wildly, sweeping her up in his wings. His feathers are shaking with excitement, his hooves dancing and scarring the sand as he rips free and gallops around her, fire in his veins. Ilaria squawks, nearly falling off in his frenzy of movement, but her own excitement only spurs his own forward. He slides to a sharp stop, gazes deep into her eyes, scarcely capable of forming words that tell her how he feels. 

"A baby," he gasps, voice hoarse with emotion. He will not be alone. He will have a family, a real, blooded family. Good gods, he's going to be a father! "I'm going to be a dad?" As if he can scarcely believe this is happening. Needing the repetition for it to sink in. Sikeax has had the entire time her belly has been growing to come to terms with what is happening, but he is experiencing this all at once. Cera presses close, trailing his lips all across her face and neck in eager, affectionate motions. 

"A BABY! I'm going to be a daddy! Oh Sia, we're going to be PARENTS! Thank you, thank you so much," and his eyes are embarrassingly teary even as his grin stretches wider, wider, threatening to burst. Cera's mother had not wanted him. His father had left him. His brother had been killed. His sister had followed in their father's footsteps. But Cera will end the pattern here, with the innocent life held protected in Sikeax's body. He would love the little one with the constant, fervent burning of the sun. He would protect it with the scathing, agonizing flames of his Lord. He would comfort and encourage in the same manner of a gentle, warming fire. The foal would never want for anything, never vie for his time or attention. He would be the father Cera had always needed when he had been a youngling. 

"How long? Do you have a birthing spot picked out? Do you need anything? Can I help somehow?" Words ramble helplessly from his lips, eager to make this pregnancy as easy and pleasant for Sikeax as possible. She is not merely the cradle for the unborn child, he cares for her deeply even if he does not love her romantically. He will take care of her, they will all take care of one another. Because they were going to be a family.


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