into the sea, you and me
all these years, and no one heard
i love you, let's go
Something pushes onward, cries out for a breath of air that neither of them are wanting to push in or out of their lungs. It feels like there’s nothing left to push on with, watching the world they’ve always known fade from existence like it was nothing, like themselves. We’re never gonna amount to anything.
He sighs somewhere in her chest, behind her heart before he leans into it, bringing on the urge to crumble. What are we other than fading sparks? The words try to grace her lips but don’t make it there. Even if they did, she doesn’t have the strength to give them the life they need. Hobgoblin refuses to give way to such things, but doubt filled with the sour taste of fear makes them real in the way they don’t need to be.
“We’re all going to die someday anyway.” It creeps out like groaning floorboards in a lonely house, sucker-punching your heart into your throat and making you choke, Hobgoblin holding his own firmly into place despite its small stature. “It’s gonna happen no matter what.” She’s one step out the door and one step into the new world, fresh from the womb with delays generating worries, holding onto the only thing she’s ever known with the hopes that her sorry excuse of a being will fix it all.
It’s never going to, but Sikeax is forever a helpless prayer, an addict to hope when the world has already burned down to its ashes, the devil standing at her side with one hand firmly placed on her shoulder. He whispers doubts that are truths in her ears, waiting for the crack in her facade that’ll make her see the world as it truly is. “Open eyes,” he whispers in her thoughts, deep-voiced and filled with knowledge neither of them never thought he’d earn. She’s coming into the depths of a hell with her eyes closed, not a crease of strength drawn into their bodies as they hold the closest thing to bliss she’s ever felt.
She looks like a damn angel, so much more than everything, far too pure to this place as the first breath she takes in feeling acidic in her lungs, their feeble cries begging for saltwater instead of air. A quiet promise is made in her head to give them what they weep for when the time comes.
Something explodes in her before it gives way to make room for what is already there. Seoul is long gone before she can even notice, for her mother’s love couldn’t save her from fate. She peels away like a long lost limb, a hollow feeling of emptiness that the void wastes no time in filling up in place of the little dragon’s excitement.
The Devil catches only a few glimpses of her as the white streak in this world takes off, worn-out pride burning depression further into him as he watches her use her wings to the best of her ability, encouraged by his and the Angel’s love and encouragement, and as she goes, Hobgoblin makes the heartfelt note to ensure Sikeax never holds any of her future children as dear as she has.
They never last long enough to truly, genuinely love with every fiber of heart and soul, try as Hobgoblin may.
Her eyes aren’t open. It’s like watching someone birth a child and then have to know that their child hasn’t made it to the light of its first day, except Sikeax is standing still, the wind refusing to touch her hair as the rainfall sheds endless tears on her. He wants to ask her if she’s okay, standing in the cold and the wet with little expression to run off of, the only signs the thin collection of her lips as her nostrils draw in small, useless breaths, but it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. She’s a stone, a statue filled with sadness that he feels so deep it embodies himself and aches his soul into submission. We’re never going to be who we once were comes from her without the hope that he’s so used to finding in her, blindly reaching out into the dark to try and find it. It’s not there, and there’s a possibility it won’t ever be. She’s seemingly lost everything, a second time over for herself but the first time through the pain for him, barely breathing as his windpipe heaves to bring in air past the tightly-held sobs choking him. It wears her down too much to care this time. She knows better to waste her time in the crying and wailing that follows, the suffering that leads her to beg for redemption that never comes, only taunts her.
She’s lost everyone but the Devil and herself, no new babes that she had only recently given their lives into this world with hope and happiness for their beginnings, never quietly scared for their futures. The wept tears she gave her entire soul into have become nothing, meaningless. “Hobgoblin, Sia, always” tries the monster in an attempt to soothe the saint, but with no avail. It only earns him the heart-churning feeling of defeat when she sighs, cracking her eyes open to see what they’ve got to sacrifice themselves to now that the world has given up on them.
As the world around her glows beneath the force of the rain, lazy like tears from a thousand eyes, the only thing she can think of is how she’ll never see her mother again, another heart-felt, loved individual wasted from her mistakes.
She whispers Adrixaura one more “I love you” before reality comes crashing in, drowning her in the rainfall.
OOC: come see a developing sia i'd really appreciate it
Hobgoblin is in his Wendigo form
Magics:
SAFE :: [ Magic: Water (P) | Able to breathe underwater ]
:: [ Restrictions | Of no use in battle ]
:: [ Magic: SparkxWater | Able to summon koi fish made of lightning that cause minor burns. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can only summon 3 small or 1 large fish. ]
Enchanted items :: NOT APPLICABLE
Rift-god / Kaos items :: NOT APPLICABLE
Amulets : 1
Companion/s :
[ Companion: Rougarou | Mythical, common | Water | 2 yrs 3 mos ] :: Born OOC wise May 14th, 2015 :: Mid Drench
Mutations::: [ Item: Genetic Mutation | Able to bond to 2 companions. ]
Species change (if applicable): She's currently a Uniquine and I would love for her to stay that way, please
Requests: please no random glowing markings or changing up her species or horn, i'd really, really appreciate that
Magic:
Transformation: Able to breathe underwater.
Offensive: Able to summon koi fish made of water vapors. They might be uncomfortable to walk through.
Amulet: It sizzles, then burns, belching steam in the empty night. It's almost blue-tinged, and before long, the entire amulet is gone, just a cloud of vapor that refuses to leave; it drifts down your flank, blown by some breeze, perhaps. It slips by your hip and past your tail, leaving a small gift you'll begin to notice in a few days. Precious blue flowers bloom in your tail, camouflaged in the blue hairs.
It's a slow roll into stability, a gradual climb into something that isn't overwhelming, that isn't unpredictable in it's ferocity and force - it becomes a dull ebb, a flow of emotion that passes through, that goes overhead and leaves. Ignored. It seems easy to fall into routine, to forget I ever hurt so much, that the pain was still there quietly eating away at me. I pretended I was fine, that my permanent descent into darkness, into the fiery black pits of something larger than I, was only temporary, only a momentary problem as I tripped and stumbled through the world. I was going in circles, lapping the territories I knew and avoiding the ones I didn't, because I was all too scared of losing myself completely - I was afraid that I was going to wander a step to far and find myself somewhere completely new, somewhere that wasn't the Rift, that didn't have the eyes that watched, the hair on my back would not be raised and instead I'd lose my footing and I'd be caught suspended. For how long?
And that's almost what it feels like, not feeling at all. Suspension, like I'm caught between one step and the next, attached to that one moment in time where my heart stops, my body freezes and I am no longer registering the world around me. I'm stuck there, hanging over the earth like some sort of dim gray cloud, like the moon or the sun, caught in the sky to only observe, to only witness, to become part of the audience rather than be a participant. It's like this for a while, dragging on in a never ending circle of sleep, eat, repeat, because my world is dark, there is nothing else for me to do other than exist - there is no family, no Throat or the like, it is all just a vast nothingness, and I am a part of that same mass that consumes the vision I'd had, the colourful shapes and figures - now nothing.
I rely on the sounds around me, the feeling of the world shifting and changing as I too shift and change, adapting to the way it pushes and pulls me, always finding a place somewhere familiar. The rain forest, the Portal, but never beyond, because beyond that is a world unknown to me, a world I may never come to know. And it's sound that draws me in today, a familiar voice that rings out in the dark like a fire in the night, a burning light that guides me forward, has me tripping and stumbling because I've finally hit the second step, finally feel the ground beneath me as I run towards familiarity, towards family, towards the opportunity for the vast world around me to become a little less lonely.
And then it's choking, it's mangled cries because I know who it is, I know her - Sikeax - I know that she's finally here and I'm weak, my knees can't hold my weight and my lungs can't fill with enough air. My heart can't seem to beat enough, my legs can't more fast enough as I slam into trees, topple over bushes, as I find my way over gnarled roots and past the saplings that bend beneath my weight as I plow through them to get to her. She is the last chance of hope, the final sliver of light before the door closes shut and traps me in a room I cannot escape. Suddenly I'm heaving, my stomach is clenching, knotting itself up, sweat drips from my brow and my mouth is dry, my tongue is swollen - words cannot leave my cracked lips, cannot surface as I hear her breathing, her sorrow and then I'm unable to keep up with the steps before me, it's momentary suspension, a familiar place above the ground, and then I'm crashing. I'm falling down, tumbling and wishing my words weren't so heavy, weren't so big and awful and I could just spit them out, but instead I'm gagging, gasping and shaking because I can feel the weight of Sikeax's sorrow, feel it crushing me beneath it, piling onto my own troubles as I present myself to her.
"I'm sorry," they're broken syllables, foreign and bitter on my lips, leaving my tongue slowly, as though these were my first words, these were what I present to the world first and foremost, above all else. I apologize, I apologize because those are the only words I seem to remember, that I seem to know,I'm sorry, because I will never be good enough, never be strong enough, bold enough, persuasive enough - I'll just never be enough. So I fall into silence, a droning silence that leaves room only for the weeping of the world, that leaves me feeling cold and breathless, that leaves me begging for more than the white noise between us.
08-16-2017, 07:36 AM (This post was last modified: 08-16-2017, 07:38 AM by Bellanaris.)
"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly." -- Flemeth, Dragon Age II
She hadn't wandered far since she tumbled through the portal, Cera hot on her heels until he just wasn't. His existence gone again as though he'd been a ghost, as though he'd never existed outside of her imagination at all. Logic screams in the back of her mind that it's hopeless, that she can't keep wandering these same cursed woods until he magically shows up somewhere as though he'd somehow been held captive in the space between the worlds. Yet her youth only serves to give her more hope, more determination, more tenacity. It is with purpose that she paces the dark, gnarled trees - her eyes ever searching past the glowing neon eyes that make her hair stand on end, past the dark shadows that leave a feeling of dread in the depths of her soul. Elgar'nan, curled up as he is upon her back with honeyed eyes closed in slumber, is her only source of comfort, the only one pushing her onward as the days tick by with no sign of the Golden Prince. Was he stuck? Did he make it through? Was he out there searching this dreadful place for her just as she was for him? Would she ever see him again?
Or maybe he had been a pleasant figment of her imagination. Perhaps her desire to have him back after he disappeared in Helovia was enough for her to hallucinate his existence. But that in itself is wholly pessimistic. Besides, she'd felt him behind her as they charged into the portal... hadn't she? What is unnerving, though, is that she can't remember when his touch disappeared, when he disappeared. In the days since her arrival, though, more had fallen through the portal - the precise circumstances surrounding their arrival is entirely unknown but it gives her hope nonetheless. And so the silver haired yearling persists, pushing aside doubt, fear, and anger - shedding all negativity the way a snake sheds old skin.
Every day Bella searches, and every day she comes up empty. Where some might get discouraged, she merely perseveres - pulling from seemingly endless stores of optimism and hope. But once again she gets stuck in a loop of searching and sleeping, just as she did when she left to find Sikeax (more than half of her lifetime ago now). Once again she grows thin from lack of nourishment - her too slender body odd and disproportionate to the sleek wings gracing her sides. Her downy feathers are long gone now, leaving behind creamy toned wings capable of flight (and no one to teach her). Her horns had grown in more as well, leaving less to the imagination about the way she'd look as an adult. Without something to break the search-sleep cycle, though, she may not make it that far. Her hope has become her obsession. Her desire for family consuming everything she had left at the end of each day.
This day is the same as each one before it except for one small detail. Waking from a fitful slumber, Elgar'nan clinging to her back to avoid the mire left behind by the persistent rains, she once again begins her search for father's golden form amidst the blackened trees and purple glow of the forest surrounding the portal. As with every other day she passed by many faces, though none of them are familiar - at least not familiar enough to warrant more than a passing glance. That's when things suddenly get interesting. A dark speckled filly nearly barrels into her, crossing carelessly just in front of her intended path. The near-assault causes Bella to throw her head up and back, ears flattened, front legs outstretched as her back end condenses and attempts to scramble backwards. In an instant the dark girl is gone and all that remains is the thundering sounds of her reckless charge fading into the distance. Normally she'd snort it off and continue on her way but something about the incident left her too curious to simply let it slide. Her first instinct is to look in the direction from whence the dark filly came. Bella nearly expected some sort of massive beast to come thundering by next but when none came, she cautiously turns to follow her instead.
Sikeax
Bella nearly gasps when she spies her mother through the trees. She almost charged towards her, beaming with a smile that could outshine the sun, until she notices the same dark filly standing before Mamae. The girl of sand and earth stops dead in her tracks, suddenly consumed by... by what? Confusion? Jealousy? Hurt? Cloaked in shadow, her green eyes locked onto the pair, she is frozen; a solid mass of mixed emotions, tears carving wet trails down the curves of her cheeks. In a single instant her hope is completely obliterated - leaving little more than smoldering ashes in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, it felt like she'd lost everything; everything except Elgar'nan (and oh how she dearly hoped he'd be enough). She quivers - with anger or from hunger - where she stands, unable to move forward or turn away so she merely stares glassy eyed at Mamae and the dark filly: equal parts envy and pain. Is this why Mamae never stuck around for long? Did she ever really care?
OOC :: feel free to ignore her, she's just feeling like a jealous child. I just wanted her to know that Sia made it through. I can have her run off and we can thread later if you all had something particular in mind for this thread.
The Portal
