the Rift


[PRIVATE] upside down like a rollercoaster ride

Cirrus Posts: 233
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
Whit
#1
The world was ending.

At least, that's what it felt like. The weathermare had taken some time for herself, after coming to several realisations.

She was afraid of commitment, to the point where as soon as any semblance of it came near her, she ran far away - every time. And she did not return until such a time as she could be sure that whoever it was who had inspired this fear was well and truly gone.

Well, at least I've got that part right. She thought glumly, as she stared blankly at the world. There was something different about Helovia, as she flew on broad dark wings over the lands. Cirrus was a native, born and raised here, and though over the years she had wandered, Helovia had always had that feeling about it.

With a healthy wind beneath her wings, she observed the lands now, unable to pinpoint exactly what was going on. Something was lacking, though no real differences screamed out to her. It was as if Helovia was simply like any other land beyond the Threshold now - and maybe that was it.

Helovia was never meant to be that kind of land - it always was, always had been, a land of magic, of elemental powers, of Gods.

Where were the Gods?

The weathermare flew over the lands, though she didn't know what she searched for. The Endless Blue called to her, as it always had, and so with a swirl of dry sand, she landed. A breeze, pleasant yet persistent, hung around her, and clouds drifted lazily across the sky above her and upon her pelt.

"Well, shit," was all she could say, because while the world still turned, something was wrong, and she couldn't figure out what.
with love, Cirrus
lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #2
    We awoke with a start.

    I watched as my bondmate stirred in the morning sun. It wasn't often that he allowed himself to sleep when the moon was risen, for he hated to 'waste' any time spent with his appearance unaffected by magic. But much time had passed, and he seemed to have accepted the form his body took during the daylight hours with relative ease - when compared to the time when I first bonded to him, he was practically 'normal' now.

    Shut up, his thoughts, sharp with irritation, stung me through our bond. I merely snorted in response, huffing away his words. It wasn't me, I replied softly, concern blossoming within me as this realisation settled in.

    I wasn't sure why we both awoke so suddenly, so early in the day. So used to our life of quiet solitude had I grown, the idea that we could have our sleep interrupted was a foreign idea, a strange notion, one that now that it had actually occurred, caused upset to rise within me.

    I rose on dainty limbs, and watched as he did the same, before casting my gaze out over the sands beyond the dunes we rested in. A breeze stirred, but that wasn't so unusual - that wasn't what had woken us up.

    Something is wrong, I murmured, and my bondmate twitched to attention, coming to stand alongside me. I looked at him, taking in his decrepit form, knowing that a stallion of strong heart and mind lived on beneath the decaying flesh and body that stood beside me. His stench was offensive and his manners usually even more so, but he was my bondmate, and his way of life had managed to keep us both alive so far.

    But this was different - this was wrong. He sniffed the air with his wrinkled muzzle, and looked to me. "I don't see anything wrong," his tones shot at me, though I could sense the lack of resolve behind his words.

    Fine, I shot back at him, before walking forward over the sands. It's a nice day anyway, I added by way of explanation, before continuing to venture away from our hidden little spot towards the open sands, breathing in the salty ocean scent.

    "Little shit," I heard him mutter in my wake, as he urged his limbs into motion. The ache that used to come with his daylight body seems to have faded over the years, as he grew to accept that there were just some things he would never change - some things he should just accept, for they weren't actually all that bad.

    He followed me as we wandered along the beach, and my unease never faded, though my bonded managed to shove his own similar feelings aside easily enough. "You worry too much," he said to me as he walked past me, while I hesitated, suddenly unsure of how safe we were wandering along the water's edge. The words were so unexpected that I almost forgot the reason I was so worried - before a distraction arrived and I did forget whatever it was I had been so concerned about.

    She was wild, untamed, part of the sky itself. Kiro froze too, in awe of the easy grace and athleticism she displayed as she landed amongst a wave of golden sand and wind. The clouds in the sky above reflected upon her hide exactly, and I could feel the admiration my bonded felt for her, as he stared openly at her.

    With a smirk, I strode forward, towards this mare, wanting to prove that it wasn't me who worried too much (though it most certainly was), and to force my bonded into some kind of social interaction for a change - one that didn't involve hurling petty insults at me all day, anyway.

    "Youmna!" I heard his bellow as he belatedly realised what I was doing - I was already only a few strides away from the mare, and I bowed my antlered crown in greeting to her with satisfaction.

    Kiro came up behind me, trotting, panting, as the sun beat down upon his ruined form and made him feel wretched and unworthy. I cared, and almost felt guilty for forcing his hand like this - but then, something had changed in Helovia, and we weren't going to discover what that was without some kind of interaction with a Helovian, surely.

    "Sorry about him - he doesn't mean any harm," my bondmate explained, as if that wasn't obvious. I huff at him, before determinedly focussing my attention to the long, straw-like grasses that grow in the dunes, decidedly ignoring them both now. I had achieved what I wanted to - they were talking now, my bondmate was actually interacting with someone, and though it was early days, he hadn't yet offended or threatened her.

    I call it progress.

    "I'm Kiro, might I know your name?"

    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart

    Cirrus Posts: 233
    Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
    Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
    Whit
    #3
    The weathermare watched as the world kept turning, as life resumed, carried on, unaffected by the change that was so obvious to her. It was like an itch, a sensation in the pit of her stomach, of wrongness, of unease and an inability to accept that this was the new 'normal'. No, whatever this was, it wasn't good, and it meant that something was going to happen that would change everything.

    Cirrus wasn't sure if she was OK with this. She wasn't sure if she was prepared for more change, having been through so much already.

    As the Cerndyr approached her, she looked curiously at it, and her cerulean gaze drawing upwards to the steed who followed.

    And almost immediately, as his scent came towards her, she crinkled her nostrils and squinted her eyes. It was a reflex, a reaction to a most offensive stench. It something akin to a rotten corpse, to spoiled meat that had been left in the sun too long. Was he a zombie, risen from the dead? Or just an extremely unkempt, unwashed, filthy individual?

    "Uh, he's fine," Cirrus muttered as she sneezed through the stench, looking at the stallion properly. He was tall, but he looked aged and decrepit, a stallion well past his prime, waiting to live out the end of days. His skin was marred and broken, his pelt barely clinging to his frame - but as she held his deep lavender gaze, she saw something else.

    Something that made her forget about everything else, for a moment, even the world ending.

    Hope.

    "Cirrus," she offered gently, holding onto that gaze like a life-saving device, clinging to it, lest she drown in the horror that was everything else about this stallion. It didn't last long, however, not nearly long enough, before those horrors became overwhelming, before they stole her senses and caused her to take a step back, to add more distance to the few strides that remained between them.

    "Sorry, I, uh- " she stammered as she shook her tiara, the spell of his gaze broken, the terror of his presence overwhelming, as the weathermare stumbled and continued to stare, unable to move past it now.

    with love, Cirrus
    lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
    as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #4
    Though I feigned ignorance, I watched as the interaction unfolded. I watched as the cloud mare looked easily from me to my bondmate, and as everything else seemed to fall down around her.

    I watched as Kiro paused his approach, he could see her fear, her hesitation, her concern. I watched as he lowered his head, but still sought out her gaze.

    I felt within me the churning of his emotions: anger at me for forcing him into this, worry that he was about to terrify this poor innocent mare, disgust that he, such a magnificent stallion was once again reduced to this, and also something deeper, something far more significant and real.

    Hope.

    I clung to this emotion, this feeling, and I mirrored it back at him. Hope was all we had, and so as the mare and stallion locked eyes, I allowed the hope within me to grow, to swell and thrive. Excitement rose, as my bonded seemed to actually be willing to try, to experience this great thing called life, to extend himself beyond the cocoon of safety and comfort and us -

    Only, it didn't last long. I felt the icy walls of denial and fear rise up within him as the mare's gaze broke with his own, as she reacted to the overpowering stench that I was so accustomed to, as her bright blue eyes roved over his broken, damaged, ugly form and revolted.

    Stay strong, I murmured, moving to his side, touching him with my own muzzle, offering support where previously he had none to rely on, none to encourage him and help him cling to that hope. She saw you, I reassured him, shouldering him, there is still hope.

    I felt something shift within him, some determined thought flicker through his mind as he came to a conclusion. He had been about to launch into a tirade of abuse, to insult and scorn and hate everything once more, but he was weary, he was tired, and despite it all, with me there, he was also hopeful.

    "It's a curse," he said, his voice catching on the words he had never uttered out loud, to anyone, before. "I'm not always like this - my true form shines when the Sun goes down," he admitted gruffly, the words foreign on his tongue, difficult to shape if only because it was such a tightly guarded secret.

    "I mouthed off at a witch once, when I was young and stupid. I am far less young now, and only marginally less stupid," he kept talking, for it seemed to be helping - the mare hadn't left completely yet, at least.

    "I've tried to wash in the ocean, in streams, but nothing works."
    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart

    Cirrus Posts: 233
    Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
    Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
    Whit
    #5
    A sensation like that of insects crawling over her skin tingled over the weathermare's body. She was restless, uncomfortable; she needed to get away from this creature.

    And yet, she remained, his words anchoring her to the spot. She watched the Cerndyr as it comforted its bonded, and that more than anything else called her attention, her reason. It settled her nerves, numbed the itching sensation, steadied her restless limbs.

    She watched them, with a careful, discerning gaze. And she remained silent, for a long time after he spoke.

    He could be lying. It was all too likely a tale, too easy a lie to come up with - a curse, given to him by a witch, that made him rot in the day time and thrive in the night?

    But the conviction with which he spoke, the way his words caught as if snagging on some kind of deeper, more terrifying truth - she suspected he had never told this to anyone before, and with this suspicion in place she was wont to believe him.

    As she simply looked at him, her own magic stirred - clouds gathered above them and upon her hide, and she added to the rainstorm that followed her other magic - her healing magic. She didn't know what to expect, but the rain always made her feel better, and it seemed to control the stench radiating from him - at least to the point where she wasn't gagging whenever she took a breath in.

    "I can control the rain." She spoke the words simply, as if sharing something about herself when he had shared so much was the right thing to do. "I can heal with it too, though I don't know about washing away curses."

    She tilted her tiara at him, considering him through wet strands of her own wild and unruly mane and forelock that threatened her field of view. With some hesitation at first, and then with more confidence, she strode closer to him, holding that enchanting gaze once more, holding onto that whisper of hope once again.

    "At least it seems to have helped your B.O.," she added with a smirk, as she stood before him, almost defiant, challenging him to try and come up with something else that might shock her, that might try to scare her away.

    It would take more than bad B.O. from a seedy old man to scare Cirrus the Defiant away.

    with love, Cirrus
    lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
    as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #6
    The mare did not move any further. She watched us, though I could see the discomfort our presence caused her. She was twitchy, ready for flight, eager to put more distance in between herself and us - and yet, she remained.

    Maybe it was my actions she focussed on, maybe it was his words. Before I could really consider it any further, the weather changed - and with it, so too did the mare.

    I watched the clouds move across her hide with a purpose, I felt the humidity rising, the air become heavier with wet purpose - and I watched as she seemed to orchestrate it all so easily. I mumbled a note of dislike - rain did not always improve my bonded's mood or condition, and so I had often come to associate it with misery to sadness.

    But as the raindrops fell upon our hides, I could feel myself and my bonded become more refreshed, and yes, it did seem to help ease the raw offensiveness of his scent too. I peered at Kiro's purple eyes with that excitement once more, and he merely peered back at me with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

    'I can control the rain,' her voice informed us, and his attention whirled to her, a combination of guarded but inquisitive; he was wary of magic due to the devastating effects his own wrought upon his body, but also fascinated by it. And this mare was nothing if not a magical belle, with the sky upon her hide and the weather at her command.

    The words and actions that followed were nothing short of shocking, astonishing, taking both myself and my bondmate by complete surprise.

    She was brash, bold and even playful with her defiance, not dancing around that which had bothered her and yet not backing away from it either. She stepped towards us and I felt my bondmate initially prepare to take a receding step back, to give way to her, to lessen the offense his existence made upon her.

    But he held his ground and raised his head, his height more generous than hers, though her wings made her seem deceiving larger than she was. They locked gazes and I bowed away from the intensity of their stares, knowing my bondmate didn't need me so near anymore.

    The rollercoaster of emotions within him was a curious one to observe: his anger faded, his surprise at her defiance, her stubbornness rose, before a glimmer of his own appeared. It was as if he was forgetting that the sun was up, that his body was ruined, that even though she called him out on it, he was able to move past it, to be himself, and not he curse that plagued him.

    "An interesting ability," his deep tones murmured through the rain, a smile tugging at his ruined features as he leaned towards the mare. "Shame it leaves one so wet though," he added, a sly smirk curling those lips, an expression that on his true façade would have been handsome, charming, but on this one gave the impression of an ancient paedophile reaching out to pluck a beautiful untouched flower and mar it with his accursed self.
    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart

    Cirrus Posts: 233
    Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
    Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
    Whit
    #7
    Even with his accursed body, his ugly, rotten form, his stench, everything, Cirrus was enchanted by those eyes. Those eyes, which seemed so vibrant, so hopeful, so discerning and disarming. Those eyes, which seemed to peer right at her very soul - her own broken, ruined soul - contained so much more than this ruined body and rotten stench.

    Didn't they?

    They stood in the rain, almost nose to nose, the Cerndyr slipping away to the side, unable to bear the intensity that rose up between them. Cirrus herself couldn't place it, couldn't explain it, and yet the longer she stared, the longer she knew that she had to keep staring, keep looking, as if somewhere deep within his eyes she might find the answer, the solution, the truth of the matter.

    He leaned closer to her, his whiskers twitching amongst her own, and she became very aware of his presence. His scent, mostly hidden now as her healing magic washed away what it could, left behind a figure who, though still decrepit in outwardly appearance, otherwise was very tall (compared to her), very sturdy, and very masculine.

    His voice confirmed this even further, and the weathermare almost blushed under the weight of his compliment, silly as it felt.

    Then he kept talking.

    The innuendo was not lost on her. It was brash and bold (everything she herself was), it was uncouth and straight to the point.

    The spell was broken, as anger flared within the mare. The rain seemed to harden, flakes of hail mingling with the droplets. The cerndyr, with a note of alarm, scurried away to shelter beneath nearby trees, while the mare shot daggers at the stallion.

    "You did not just hit on me," she said, her tones deadly, serious, threatening. "You did not just turn my magic into some sick pick up line!" she was shouting, though she didn't really know why she was angry.

    Disgust curled her lips as she regarded him, ears pinned down amidst dark tendrils of mane, nose pinched in distaste.

    "Prick," she summed up succinctly, before turning abruptly away from him, spreading her wings as if to shake away the wet that had gathered in the feathers. The motion seemed to call an end to the onslaught of rough weather, as she walked determinedly away.

    with love, Cirrus
    lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
    as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #8
    He had her.

    They shared this moment, this rain, this stare. Together, they had nothing but each other, as I slunk away to the sidelines, not staring directly (and not needing to, for I held a far more intimate standpoint than I cared to hold at this point).

    As the rain worked on his body, soothing his aches and making him feel much more Kiro than before (though not changing his outward appearance at all), I felt his inner turmoil settle into something more slow-moving, something more manageable. I felt him become genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.

    Ah, but then he spoke. If only he had ceased his attempts at playful conversation at the first statement, the compliment. But no, he had to keep going, to forget what he was and speak as if a charming, debonair youth spoke, to smile a smile that should have been worn on a handsome young façade that instead came across as a leering peeping tom, a paedophilic old man, an ogling pervert.

    You idiot, I said as I made to escape the hail that followed, not blaming the mare in the slightest for the offense she felt. My words were nothing compared to the torment his own thoughts were putting him through, and I let him carry on for a while: he deserved it, at this point.

    - fuck, I had forgotten - I am a douchebag - she made me forget - how could I forget - this hail fucking hurts - she's walking away -

    Shut up, I intervene at last, as the mare turns on her heel after delivering a single-worded insult which at this point, I didn't disagree with. Apologise to her, I urge, as the rain and hail ceased abruptly, as the distance grew between them.

    Shit, I heard him think, before he urged himself into following her, though several strides behind. I followed too, though I was further away still, unwilling to get caught up in the crossfire of this most intriguing interaction.

    "I - I'm sorry -" his words were rough, unpractised again, coming out in huffs and puffs as his body struggling to follow and speak at the same time. Fucking curse, he muttered to me, and cursed under his breath. "I've never - I haven't spoken to anyone - never like that - I'm sorry," he kept going pleading, hopeful still, but he would back away if she scorned him again, if only because the curse forced him to come to a standstill, forced him to bow his head and catch his breath, while his sides heaved.

    And upon his face, tears trickled down from his lavender eyes.
    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart

    Cirrus Posts: 233
    Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
    Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
    Whit
    #9
    The weathermare could hear him follow, but she didn't turn back. Her ears against her skull, she was mostly able to ignore him, to determinedly walk away, until her wings were dry again, and then she could fly away.

    She wasn't afraid of him: she also had her spear, and her fighting ability. She would kick his arse if she had to, and she would do a good job of it too.

    He spoke, calling after her, but it was the way he spoke that gave her pause. Reluctantly, yet as if his words were some kind of drug she could not deny, she listened to him, to the way he delivered his apology (though it wasn't much of an apology, really).

    In fact, as she peered back over her shoulder, she watched as his pathetic self bowed beneath the exertion of following her these few strides and calling out his apology. She stared at him, unable to meet his eye, simply looking at the now diminutive-appearing creature who was broken, cursed, beaten by his own demons.

    Cirrus didn't really care about all that, truly. It was the way he had assumed things about her, the way his words had made her feel that irked her.

    Still angry, still volatile, she turned back towards him again, her tongue prepared to deliver her words to him with venom and acerbity. "And what exactly made me privileged enough to earn them directed at me?" she challenged him, a breath away from pulling her spear out of the folds of her feathers and holding it to his throat.

    But he was pathetic, a mess, a wisp of a stallion; it would be an insult, surely, to threaten him any further than she already had.

    with love, Cirrus
    lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
    as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #10
    The tears burned his eyes, I felt them through the bond. They stung, not just physically, but the reason for them also ate him up inside.

    Fucking pathetic, his inner voice roared, scornful, hateful and overbearing, drowning out any attempts even my own voice might make upon him. I watched, sadly, as he broke, as his accursed body gave in, as the weight of everything finally ruined him.

    I didn't think the mare would turn back, I didn't think she had any time left for him. But something must have affected her, something must have penetrated her mind - or perhaps she simply could not leave an argument without having the final say.

    I was almost afraid that she was going to strike him down where he stood, crumpled and broken, before her. I almost moved to place myself between them, to summon my own magic to defend my bondmate - but she didn't attack him, at least not physically.

    She posed a question to him, a pointed and direct question, seeking the answer to his odd and brash behaviour.

    I watched as his eyes, watery with the tears they shed, rose to meet hers once more, as that feeling overcame him again, as he was able to let go a bit of that accursed self as he clung onto her.

    It was like a drug, an addiction, and he was clinging hard to his fix.

    "I don't know," he murmured, and I saw her frown, dissatisfied with his answer. "No - wait - " he said, taking a step to hold her gaze in his, to plead for her patience. "I don't know why, but when I look at you, when I talk to you - I've never told anyone about the curse before. I'm a fucking hermit, a recluse, I have been for years."

    He shrugged as if to show his ignorance over his own puzzling actions.

    "You make me forget that I'm like this, that I'm in some decrepit, rotten body, that I'm cursed," he didn't know how to express himself, how to explain it.

    "Youmna and I, we woke up this morning feeling weird and then we met you and.. I just don't know what's going on."

    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart

    Cirrus Posts: 233
    Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
    Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 :: 8 HP: 69 | Buff: SWIFT
    Whit
    #11
    Cirrus wanted to spit in his face, to kick him, to stab him with the pointy end of her spear. She wanted to rage, to shout and scream at him - she was the granddaughter of Naryl the FireSlayer after all, who was known for her temper tantrums.

    But she didn't. She reigned in the storm, the tempest, that was within her, watching with her sharp, piercing gaze as he stammered and mumbled, as he claimed ignorance. She almost turned away from him again, disgusted with his incompetence, his insufficient answers, but he pleaded with her, so she remained.

    They had barely spoken a handful of words to each other, and yet even Cirrus could not deny the sensation that when she looked at him, all else faded away. She wanted to call him a liar, to call him and his 'excuses' stupid, to throw his own words back at him and walk away, and yet…

    She couldn't.

    Maybe it was some kind of magic holding her here. Maybe this stallion's true magic was not some curse afflicting him but a curse he afflicted onto others, to take pity on him, to listen to him, to… What? What would come of it all if that were true? Cirrus never did see a purpose to deception, which was why she often came across as brash and upfront, because anything less felt like deception to her.

    The weathermare watched the stallion, feeling a truth to his words, at least on his last statement. Something in Helovia had changed, but surely that could not have led to this.. whatever this was?

    What even was this, anyway?

    "So what you're saying is," Cirrus began, choosing her words carefully. "When you're not cursed, or whatever," she continued, inflecting her words very purposefully. "You behave like a sleazy asshole?"

    She posed the question with serious tones, but a glint had entered her eyes, a shadow of a smile teased her lips, as she regarded him.

    with love, Cirrus
    lunarblues & larfsalot @ deviantart
    as changing as unforgiving as the wind, as bitter and chilling as the cold, as warm and deadly as the heat


  • I enjoy being tagged.


  • please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
    I write what I feel at the time
    and hope everyone else does the same c:


    Kirottu Posts: 40
    Outcast atk: 3.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 7
    Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
    Youmna :: Royal Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Lamplight Whit
    #12
    I felt the way disgust rose up within him, the way it festered, pooled, grew, consumed everything in its path. It wasn't disgust at the mare, but rather at himself, at the patheticness, at the helplessness, the utter foolishness that he hadn't done something about the curse in all this time.

    He still didn't understand it, after all this time.

    The curse is only a curse if you view it as such, I inject my thoughts into his for what must be the million time, trying to explain to him that which he should already know, that which I am sure he does know on some subconscious level.

    I felt him bristle, felt him instinctively want to lash out, or to block me out, to ignore my existence, but he could never bring himself to do that to me, never could he reject me, for we were soul-bound, joined - we were in this together.

    He held onto her gaze, praying (to what Gods, neither of us knew) that she wouldn't turn away from him, hoping she would linger a bit longer, not knowing why he wanted these things but wanting them all the same. It was odd for me to watch this, to feel it through our bond, for most other times I had seen him interact, he had been acerbic, rude and uncaring what his words or actions did to others, even when he claimed to like the others' company.

    You must be rubbing off on me, he noted dryly at my observations, his thoughts coloured with a helplessness as he awaited this cloud-mare's reaction.

    Her words were sharp, pointed, delivered with an enviable boldness and confidence, softened with a playful smirk and glance. I felt the first reaction to them rise up within my bonded once more, that knee-jerk desire to want to throw abuse and colourful language back at her, but I reminded him softly that such a reaction would only be proving her point, and also, for some unknown reason, he wanted to earn this mare's esteem - had he forgotten so quickly the way she made him feel?

    So Kiro the cursed barked a strange laugh out, ugly as his features in its sound, but genuine, followed by a smile and a small shake of his head. When he thought about it, she was right, which made it all the funnier - he was an asshole, all his life he had been, and with that admission, he found he could forget the skin he was wearing altogether, and proceed as if nothing was amiss in this conversation with this enlightening vivacious mare.

    "I prefer the term selfish bastard, actually," Kiro spoke, jovial and oddly, full of life.

    "But I suppose if you wanted to call me sleazy asshole, that's okay," he added with a casual shrug of his shoulders, letting the happy moment blossom and then pass, before tilting his crown with a quizzical expression upon his façade.

    "You could.. Stay with me, if you wanted. Until nightfall, I mean. I.. I would like you to see me when I'm not restricted by my magic."
    Kirottu
    the cursed one

    floweringfatality | whimzi
    on deviantart


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