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♛funeral in carpathia
RAUM
Loner
33
Posts
Male
5
#1
house of the rising sun
HE DESCENDS – RIVETED BY THE GLOW OF THE WANING MOON, ITS CAST UPON THE SILVERY WATERS THAT ARE STILL AS GLASS. THE WIND HAS CEASED, THE SCREAMING GALE REMISS TO SILENCE; SWEET THING, TREACHEROUS DREAM UPON THE ALPINE RIDGE. UNFURLED FROM A NESTLE OF THORNS, THE CROWNLESS BARON ROUNDS THE BOUNTIFUL CRATER WITH SCARCE WARE, ITS PATRONS LONG LEFT FROM ITS ICY QUARTER. IT REFLECTS NOW A MERCURIAL SKY IN ITS SHALLOW SCAPE, FROST FETTERED TO THE FAR EDGES. LITTERED IN CROWS FEET AND RABBIT SOFT PRINT, HOOVED PATHS TRAILED FROM DISTANT BRUSH. HIS SERPENTINE DELINEATION WRAPS THE WINTRY GROUND IN A SILHOUETTE DOUBLED, STARK CONTRAST IN THE DECEMBER NIGHT – DREAMS OF MEMORY, CATERED TO DEATH'S IMPISH GLEE. HE IS BORN OF ITS CHILL, ITS DARK, THE UNFORGIVING SCAPE IT RECEDES FROM SUMMER SWEETNESS. AND YET HE DOES NOT KNOW THE WARMTH OF A MOTHER'S ADORATION, SUCH BLISS IS RESERVED FOR THE SPRINGTIME CHILDS OF A LESSER YEAR. IT IS THIS, NOW. THE BLACK DAWN OF A FRIGID LAKE, PAINTED IN ITS BELLY THE GRINNING MOON.

DOES SHE GRIN FOR HIM? HE TOUCHES HIS NOSE TO THE MIRROR AND WATCHES IT RIPPLE, THE LUNAR GLOW DANCING IN THE DISRUPTION BEFORE THE TREMORS ARE CHASED TO DISTANT POOLS. HIS BREATH CURLED AT HIS CHEEKS, SMOG UNFURLING FROM WYVERN LUNGS ; THE GLASS IS REFLECTED IN HIS EYES BEFORE FALLING TO THEIR PIERCING NOTE. THE SILENCE IS DESIROUS, LONG PINED AFTER THE DAYS OF HIS WEARY TRAVEL. ACHING BONES RELEASED THEIR GATHERED TENSION, SMOOTH TAIL FLOURISHED BESIDE HIM AS HE STRETCHED AND LOUNGED AT THE FROSTLADEN SHORES OF THE LAKE. HERE IN THE COOL, JEWELED SOILS OF THE NORTHERN POOL HE RESTS, KEROSENE RIVULETS OF DISHEVELED TAR PIT FURS LIT BY THE MOON'S CHERISHING GLOW. SHE PRESSES HER PALMS ALONG HIS CHEEK BONE AND SMOOTHS THE STRIFE FROM HIS SHOULDERS, LIPS PRESSED TO HIS FURROWED BROW.
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@Faina
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Amanda
Loner
10
Posts
Female
4
#2

The smell of the lake was nothing like that of the beach, and though others would choose the lake over the ocean, Faina was always opposite. It was always the beach she was drawn to, but the one in this land was not as beautiful nor was its sand as clean. She was disappointed to say the least, and many times she wished to do nothing more then return home. Faina feared there was nothing left of it, however. A soft sigh fell from ebon' lips, audits twitched every time to cool air kissed them. Winter was more her season as the summer sun tended to be drawn to her dark pelt. At least she had that going for her—but nothing more. As she continued closer to the lake the smell of Lucent filled her nostrils, she never tended to stray too far away as he was the only familiar face she had come by.

"Your features have not changed much over the months," she cooed softly, certainly it was a compliment in its own sense. Her steps against the earth were nearly silent until she stood by his side, looking at her own reflection in the water. All she saw staring back were her children. Smoldering hues settled on his profile, her lips pulling back into a light smirk. "The days are growing colder, and this will be our first winter as loners." It didn't sadden her, in turn it would actually strengthen her in not only mind, but body as well.

feartheliving27


@lucent
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RAUM
Loner
33
Posts
Male
5
#3
house of the rising sun
HE RESIDES AS A POOL OF BLACK OFFSET BY THE GLACIAL LAKE, A DISHEVELED KNOT OF MIDNIGHT FIBER AND VIPEROUS COIL THAT GLINTS IN THE MOONLIGHT. A LAKE BESIDE A LAKE. AN ETHEREAL GULP OF STARLESS CANVAS, AS IF RIPPED FROM THE SKY ITSELF – STILL AS THE DEAD, HOWEVER INTERNALLY WRITHING AND TWISTING WITH THE ANCIENT TOMES OF AN OTHERWORLD WONDER, AN INSATIABLE PIT OF SECRECIES AND MISERIES UNTOLD. DRAWN INTO ITSELF AT ONCE, AS HIS CHEEKBONES WITHDRAW AGAINST THE FIBERS OF HIS MANE, UNRAVELED MEEKLY AGAINST HIS RIGID JAWLINE AND TEASE ACROSS THE ELEGANT BREADTH OF HIS SKULL. AND WITH A TURN, UNDONE IN A GESTURE. AS IF HE MAY, WITH A SMIRK AND A WORD, RUPTURE INTO A THOUSAND PIECES THAT SPLINTER AND SOAR TO THE SILENT HEAVENS WITH RAVENS LUSTER. BUT FOR HER, THOSE JAGGED EDGES AND GRATING TEETH SUBSIDE TO A COOL SOFTNESS, THE ROAR OF THE BLACK OCEAN RECEDING TO SHALLOW WAVES THAT PRESS AGAINST THE SHORE. THEY SLIP BETWEEN THE CRACKS AND CRAGS, DRAGGING HER IN FROM THE UNDERTOW. HER VOICE FINDS HIM IN SUCH ARRAY OF DISCONTENT AND WITHDRAWAL, THOUGH HIS TENSION LIFTS WITH THE WINTERSONG OF HER VOICE. IT IS CLEAR, RESONANT, A HYMN OF STRENGTH WITH NOTES OF NURTURE AND BOLD VENERATION, THE BIDING GOLD CHIME OF A MOTHERLY SHIELDMAIDEN. WERE THERE A THOUSAND VOICES THAT CONSUMED HIM ALONG THE RIVERBED OF PANDEMONIUM, HERS WOULD BE A BLACKBIRD MELODY HE COULD GRASP AMONG THE CROW CAW FUROR.

IT IS HER EYES HE NOTICES, BEFORE ALL ELSE. THE FORGE OF THOSE EYES WITHHELD IN THE MIDST OF BLACK IRON STEAD, DISTANT FIRELIGHTS THAT SIMMER OR ROAR WITH A HELL'S FURY. THEY ARE TELLING, AND YET – SO RIDDLING. THEY FALL UPON HIM WITH A HEAT HE FEELS RESERVED, AND THE COLDNESS OF HIS OWN PITCH GAZE IS RELENTED TO ADMIRATION. HE WATCHES HER INTENTLY STILL, THE ROVE OF THOSE HELLISH EYES, THE WAY THEY SPEAK WHERE HER WORDS TO NOT FOLLOW. THE SORROW THAT TRACES THE ETERNAL FEIST. SHE IS, FOREVER, A WARRIOR. HE IS FAR FROM IGNORANT TO DISCARD THIS FACT, AND IT IS CLEAR AND POTENT IN THE MANY WAYS SHE CARRIED HERSELF, SHE SPOKE, THE WAY HER EYES SOUGHT EVERY DETAIL IN FIERY CALCULATION. THE SCAR ON HIS CHEEK WAS A TESTAMENT, A REWARD. FOR EACH MOMENT OF SORROW, EVERY GASP OF KNOTTED BREATH THAT TIGHTENS IN HER THROAT, THE FIRE IN HER EYES IS DAMPENED BY SLIGHT, BEFORE THEY GROW FURIOUSLY BRIGHT IN THE RECLAMATION OF THEIR MIGHT AND WILL.

AS SHE LAMENTED SOFTLY, SILENTLY, TO THE STILLNESS OF THE LAKE, HER REFLECTION DREW ITS SILHOUETTE IN THE EYES OF THE MIRROR. HIS GAZE CLAWED ITS WAY THROUGH HER WROUGHT IRON GATES, THOSE FIERY PULSINGS THAT LACED BACK OVER IN SUDDEN REPRIEVE – AND GRIPPED HOLD OF THAT NUANCE OF MISERY, OF ANGUISH. OF ALL HORRIBLE THINGS, LUCENT IS THE WRETCHED KING OF A NETHER HELL. A RASPING BEAST OF DUST AND MATERIALIZED FILTH THAT ACHES FOR EVERY SECRET IN EVERY CORNER AND EVERY HALL. FOR THE TREASURES THAT LAY THERE, AND THE DIGNITIES THAT REMAIN WHEN THEY ARE GONE. HE IS INSATIABLE. HE IS CONTEMPTIBLE. AND NOT EVEN SHE IS SAFE FROM HIS CRUEL NEEDS, THE WAY HE WINDS HIS WAY DEEP IN YOUR LUNGS AND STEALS YOUR BREATH TO SPILL YOUR HEART. HE FEEDS ON IT. AND WHILE HE LETS HER REBUILD HER WALLS AROUND HIM, HE SITS COMPLACENT, A GRINNING GATOR IN THE SHALLOWS OF HER TEMPESTUOUS MIEN, HUNGRILY AWAITING THE DINNER BELL. HE HEARS HER, AND IS ARTFUL ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER THAN TO STUMBLE OVER HER WORDS TO FOCUS ON HIS OWN. IT IS EASIER THAT HE CARES, SOMEWHERE IN THE FAR REACHES OF HIS SOUL, FOR THE OCEAN QUEEN AND HER CRACKED CROWN.

THERE IS KINSHIP IN THE MISCHIEVOUS LOOK SHE DRAWS BACK TO AIM AT HIM, AND HE SNATCHES THE ARROW AS IT SAILS PAST HIS CHEST. THEIR FIRST WINTER AS LONERS, BUT WAS IT TRULY? MIASMADOR WAS HIS HOME FOR SUCH A SHORT TIME. AND BEFORE IT, THE WILDS AGAIN. HE WAS YOUNG, BUT HE WAS NOT A CHILD LOST TO THE TEMPER OF WINTER. HE WAS BORN OF ITS RAGE. AND IN HER HE HAD NO DOUBTS. MORE SO AS HE SAT WITHIN THE WALLS OF HER FORTRESS AND MARVELED AT THE SECRETS HE COULD TOUCH, GRASP WITHIN DEFT FINGERTIPS, YET HE YEARNED MORE FOR THOSE RUGGED THINGS HE SOUGHT TO TASTE FROM HER LIPS. THEIR INTIMACY WAS UNORTHODOX, AN ABSTRACT LUST THAT PULLED ITS TEETH AND TWISTED ITS TONGUE – BUT NEVER REALLY RECOGNIZED ITS BEING. LUCENT FOREVER HELD EVEN THOSE CLOSE TO HIM AT A LONG ARM'S LENGTH, AND PERHAPS EVEN FARTHER FROM THERE. AND SHE, HE LIKEWISE KNEW SO LITTLE ABOUT.

HE MOVED SLIGHTLY IN A GESTURE OF INVITATION, NOTIONING THE SPACE HE LEFT OPEN IN HIS ARMS. AND WHETHER SHE ACCEPTED OR DECLINED, HE ALLOWED HIS GAZE TO FLIT OVER THE GLACIAL POOL, REGARDING ITS CRACKS WHILE HIS MIND DRUMMED OVER HIS MANY INQUISITIONS. “had you always lived in those walls of Miasmador, faina?" THE SMOOTH BARITONE DRIPPED FROM HIS LIPS, A SMOKY MURMUR OF EQUAL FONDNESS AND CURIOSITY, DEVILISH UNDERTONES KNELT TO THE WEIGHT OF ITS CHARM. IT WAS A THREAD HE GRASPED TIGHTLY BETWEEN HIS FINGERTIPS, EAGER TO UNRAVEL THE STRAIN OF MYSTERY SHE BEHELD. THOUGH PERHAPS THAT IS WHAT KEEPS HIM, ANCHORED TO THE TRENCH. FOREVER CARESSING THE SOFTNESS OF HER HEART THROUGH TITANIUM BONES WHILE HE CHOKED ON THE SEAWATER.
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@Faina
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Amanda
Loner
10
Posts
Female
4
#4

There is not one moment that her gaze leaves him, there is a comfort she found within herself every time their eyes met. While it was as though she was staring into the deepest pit of the darkest cave, she could find the life within him. The edges of her lips curl into a subtle smirk as he makes room for her, and without hesitation she takes residence—immediately feeling his fire engulf her. The ebony woman took a shark breath before exhaling softly, his words causing her audits to flicker. "Not always," she answered back to his question, "I left my family when I was a couple months shy of a year, my brother Ryurik use to watch over me" Slight Russian accent tainted her chords, "I wanted more though... a home for us, and I would soon find it by the side of my old mate Pharos." She was sure Lucent remembered him.

And even to present day she sometimes found herself missing him.

She leaned further into the depths of his chest, "Miasmador was home from then on, until we were all wiped clear from the lads as you know." Her chin tilted slightly over her shoulder until his handsome features graced her view, "and what of you? Where did you reside before Miasmador?" Faina never question Lucent's pastime before, but she didn't feel out of place when asking. If he had any qualms in answering she knew he would feel no obligation—just as she would have done the same.

feartheliving27


@lucent
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