the Rift


[OPEN] Call it survival

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
sikeax
" i hate to think about you with somebody else
but our love has gone cold
you're intertwining your soul with somebody else "
The sky cries them a whole new ocean. It pours until it feels like the world is falling apart in the form of raindrops after some time, powering on with an uncontrollable feeling of pain and suffering, locked up in a heart with no key to be found.
They withstand till they can't take it anymore, the winds picked up from the sea throwing themselves in land and bringing the waves in with them.
She actually feels like an idiot, and Hobgoblin thinks the same way towards her as well, standing on the brim of Helovia and looking out into what used to be the closest definition to the words home and family, now nothing more than a place where a man who painfully carries some portion of her heart reigns supreme.
"Skullface wear your crown. Skullface take."
She looks back at him with some ancient look of sorrow, downtrodden and worn like today was going to be The Day, you know, the one where she goes back to there only to remember it's not worth it. It wears a hole in his heart to see her like this, evident through the aching resonating in his chest and the soft coo of a whine in his throat.
"He didn't take it from me. He just deserved it more."
Disappointment burns a hole through her in a place she doesn't want it to, Hobgoblin's deep eyes urging it on as it goes. He knows that she likes to think that she gave it away, that giving it up was what was right for her, for the entirety of the Dragon's Throat, but when the story runs out and someone else is playing everyone else's parts, and Sikeax is left to suffer with the agony of failure and shame, no part of it screams that it was right.
She leaves no room for arguments though. Her footsteps ring in his ears and her long, drawn-out sigh weeps more than the rain does as she goes, driving back into the caves, looking to hide, looking to weep, looking for somewhere to run herself down in the mess of hormones that are likely moving through her veins even now.
He wastes not a single second on watching her go, nothingness replacing flippers as his legs struggle to keep with her pace.
If she cries in the rain on the way to the glowing room, then he doesn't see it, masked behind the mess of raindrops and salt staining her cheeks.

-----------------


The air inside is cold in the kind of way that makes Sikeax want to turn back, to dive into the raging seas and simply forget, to give up on everything she's ever worked for and pretend that none of it ever happened, or to turn tail and run to wherever her mother is now and to fall into her arms, weeping as much as the sky and crying out every part of her story.
Or maybe she could choose death and run away to all the people who mattered the most, and finally crash down in happiness beside Tonka, or possibly Africa, letting the world forget her like it's done everyone else.
Either way, fate has no time for her sorrows and failures, for as her body sinks into the body of water at the end of the cave, sighs and groans running along the lines of her lips and the whispering of her breath, her eyes capture something she's never gotten the chance to witness before: a baby dragon being born.
"Hobgoblin." His nostrils flare somewhere else in the room, jaws opening only to close briefly after at the scent of an easy meal, hunger digging a hole in his stomach. He's almost got the mind to ignore her, if it wasn't for the second round of urgency in her quiet voice.
"Hobgoblin!"
He slinks over with the stench of crankiness following behind, slouching in his shoulders as his body breaks apart to slide into place beside her, damp skin meeting cold hair. The sensation shouldn't bother him, seeing as leopard seals are specifically made to withstand the cold, but Hobgoblin chooses to give a firm middle finger to any laws written to his forms.
Look.
His eyes follow hers, mumbling something in the back of their heads as he does so. "What?"
"If you used the eyes inside of your head, then maybe you'd-"
Crying fills up the places in her head that she's never known to be empty, or at least till Hobgoblin...
If he could have actually screamed, then the world would have known the absolute horror that comes rushing in when the child finally breaks through what should had been their casket, crying out for love and attention and any food that might do something to relieve the stress of the entire situation. He's been there before, in her spot, but never Sikeax's, and now that it strikes him with the force of a freight train, he isn't exactly sure how to go about handling it.
So, Hobgoblin does what he feels is right, and with jaws spread wide and hunger reigning some sort of supreme in his head, the child's cries dull out in his head.
Rage bursts through him like a bomb with the background interference of terror, and while he can't decide if the fear is his or well, the child's, he can at least be sure that Sikeax's horn tastes terrible, the slick piece of what he now discovers is bone tasting of aged salt and raindrops. It collides into the ends of his mouth and holds him back as the small reptile finds its feet and attempts to flee, diving for Sikeax.
He rips backwards as the child finds her mane, clutching into the damp locks with small talons desperate to find some sense of safety and mothering, and while she doesn't mind at all, evident by the short burst of love that always comes right when she witnesses her children for the first time, covered in all sorts of ick, it tears him limb from limb.
All he manage is "Why?"
Why her? Why me? Why us?
"I can't control it. Neither of us can."
She's getting closer now, climbing into the horned mare's mane and making short chirps as happiness flutters around in all of them, so much more aware of the dragon's imprint on their bond now. Her little body finds the right place at last, clearing into a collection of tangles.
"You're going to have to get used to it. She's ours."
There's never been a collection of words that he's hated more, except for when he found out they actually had to keep Zhu at the beginning, when the black colt consisted of nothing more than the grossness of birth and whining, long before Hobgoblin had found any joy in his company. One hell of a hateful huff flies out of his nostrils to ensure that she knows he still thinks she'd make a better meal than bonded.
"Get over it." The firmness of his voice confirms that he's lost this battle and actually the entire war, but there's nothing to go back on. The world has seemingly decided to carry on without him.

OOC: official bonding for sia's lil dragon!! yay!!
Hobgoblin's forms go from, in order, leopard seal, wendigo, seal.

"speak"
image


you were angels,
so much more than everything

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



Messages In This Thread
Call it survival - by NPC - 05-05-2017, 09:05 PM
RE: Call it survival - by Sikeax - 05-05-2017, 10:16 PM
RE: Call it survival - by Bellanaris - 05-09-2017, 01:13 AM

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