they are wicked things, dovev - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Playground (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +---- Thread: they are wicked things, dovev (/showthread.php?tid=21911) |
they are wicked things, dovev - despair - 11-29-2018 i could dig myself out of the loneliest of graves for you, could be taken down like a dog that got itself a mouthful of blood and liked the taste, could give myself up belly-up. crane toward you like a heliotrope in the sun.
Mama says he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her, but then why does she cry when she says it? He’s too young to comprehend why her smile breaks around the word love but he wants to understand so badly. For now, all the boy can do is kiss her cheek and say how much he loves her too. Despair doesn’t know that he’s got his father’s eyes, that his smile frames his laughter just the same way. And how could he? Vulgaris never visits. He wasn’t there for Despair’s first steps or even his first words. There was only Mama.He’s too young to feel this depth of emotion and so he lingers on the very edges of the playground. Shiya told him to go make friends but he’s got no idea what to say to any of them. Instead, he idly digs a little hole in the dirt with his tiny hoof and hums quietly to himself. The tune isn’t anything special, just something he thinks sounds nice. Maybe he heard it in passing once, he figures. The ink-colored boy sneezes and a ripple of scales shimmer along his body, all glimmering like an oil slick for a fleeting second before they give way to his dark coat once more. He hasn’t learned to control it yet but he doesn’t seem bothered by the change anymore. After all, Mama has lots of scales on her and he thinks she’s pretty, so looking like her couldn’t be a bad thing. The feeling tickles when he accidentally shows his serpentine features and there’s still a faint smile on his face as he continues to dig. A little beetle scrambles from the dirt as he accidentally unearths it and he flicks it into the grass with the very edge of his little hoof. Despair lowers his head and follows it curiously. Its body gleams just like Mama’s scales and yet it is not a snake. But he quickly loses track of the insect, causing him to snort softly in frustration. When he lifts his head, there’s a strange man standing close enough that Despair can make out his strange body. It’s twisted all wrong, but then again he doesn’t know what wrong is just yet. Instead Dovev just looks different, and different means fun. His knobby knees and gangly legs carry him closer, close enough to bump his nose against the stranger. He smells like Mama, like the place she comes home from every morning when the dew is still heavy on the leaves. Was this his father, then? Is that why she snuck away when she thought he was asleep? He smiles up at the man, pointed teeth all glimmering like freshly washed pearls as his legs march in place excitedly. “Hi, Dad!” here is the field in my heart that bears your name. here is the whole country, aching and tender, i named after you. here is my whole entire heart. RE: they are wicked things, dovev - Random Event - 12-06-2018 @[despair] has been infected by the plague (rolled a 1). He will show symptoms (rolled a 5). He will not express a trait (rolled a 4). RE: they are wicked things, dovev - Dovev - 12-08-2018 dovev we're slaves to any semblance of touch Lord, we should quit but we love it too much @[adna] RE: they are wicked things, dovev - adna - 12-08-2018 Adna howl at the half moon, radio queen. she's all smoke. she's all nicotine. @[despair] RE: they are wicked things, dovev - despair - 12-10-2018 i could dig myself out of the loneliest of graves for you, could be taken down like a dog that got itself a mouthful of blood and liked the taste, could give myself up belly-up. crane toward you like a heliotrope in the sun.
He tilts his head like a little puppy when Dovev denies his paternity, and the wheels are turning in his head as he tries to make sense of it. Why else would he smell like Mama, then? Perhaps the fact that this is his father is a secret of some sort. Yes, that has to be it, since this other stranger also smells like Shiya in the morning and looks vaguely like her. It’s his duty to help his father keep this secret, then. Mama had told him to avoid his father, after all, if he ever met him. Despair begins to slowly nod with a knowing, mischievous smile as he reaches this conclusion.“Riiight, you’re not my dad. We’re just really good friends,” he says, little pointed teeth all gleaming in his sneaky grin. When he asks his name, though, he remembers what Shiya said the day he was born. “Mama says I’m her Despair!” And the expression just keeps on shining from his little dark face, proud to be called hers even though he still doesn’t quite know what his name means. His bright green eyes travel to the red woman then, examining her face curiously as he looked over her scales and her teeth. She looks like his mother but a little different, and not just because of her age either. He blinks slowly as he tries to make sense of it but the puzzle pieces just don’t quite snap into place for him. Perhaps this was Mama’s sister? But then she speaks and his ears perk up, delighted that she agrees they look alike. His legs tap in place again and he spins in a tight circle as he laughs joyfully. How wonderful to meet someone so similar to him! Perhaps they could be good friends then. “You look like Mama, but you’re not white,” he says as he bumps his nose into her shoulder, testing the texture of her scales against his skin. Yes, she is just like his mother somehow, which brings him a strange sort of comfort. Despair wastes no time as skitters around behind them and then squeezes in between, his shoulders pressed to each of theirs. “What are your names?” He keeps his chin lifted to stare up at them, hope and wonder glimmering in his kind eyes as he watches them. The armor along Dovev’s shoulder isn’t soft and warm in the way that Adna’s is, but the bone makes him feel safe and protected somehow. here is the field in my heart that bears your name. here is the whole country, aching and tender, i named after you. here is my whole entire heart. RE: they are wicked things, dovev - Dovev - 12-26-2018 dovev we're slaves to any semblance of touch Lord, we should quit but we love it too much RE: they are wicked things, dovev - adna - 01-01-2019 Adna howl at the half moon, radio queen. she's all smoke. she's all nicotine. @[Despair] @[Dovev] |