HEARTFIRE - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: HEARTFIRE (/showthread.php?tid=22832) |
HEARTFIRE - Wyrm - 01-30-2019 When you can be anything you want, sometimes you’d rather just be nothing at all. It’s that nothingness that suits the changeling nowadays, when nearly everyone has forgotten who he was or might’ve been. He’s walking, which can be discerned by the casual pace of his steps, but everything else about him is … unsettling. Limbs that shift, constantly. First feline, then equine, then avian or some mixture of them all. No muscle sits still underneath the patterned skin he continues to change; they ripple freely through spasms of growth and shrinkage. When he meets an obstacle in his path he never pauses to adjust his stride, rather the world and its objects remain as they are while he passes easily through them. The secrets he’s uncovered are plentiful enough for endless lifetimes, but such a prospect does little to satisfy his endless hunger. Wyrm has found himself on a cold trail. Only death remains his master - an infallible end - and in all his years of living for himself and striving for power, that one small iota of harrowing fear seems to finally be catching up. “Any day now.” The manipulator reminds himself, feeling the truth of it in his bones as he glides, wraith-like, through a quiet Forest. And his hope? Gone. Carried away on the wings of his grandson, the young King, as the striped pegasus had slipped out of his grasp and subsequently out of Beqanna. Or so the rumors would have it. But if there was one creature who knew the truth, she was sure to be around (much like himself, their kind never quit) and Wyrm was sure her curiosity might outweigh her desire to see him dead. For a moment or two. “Heartfire.” He rasps out into the empty void, finally allowing his structure to settle on the old, familiar stallion she might recognize, albeit a bit ancient and gray around the muzzle. Some creature, some unassuming living thing would glance at the noisy word and it’s source only to see him. Which is exactly what he needed. Exactly what she needed to find him, since he’d done them both a favor and ripped his eyes clean from their sockets years ago. “@[Heartfire] …” RE: HEARTFIRE - Heartfire - 02-01-2019 She's got the devil's eyes She had stopped looking for him a long time ago. Perhaps sometime shortly after he shredded his own sight so thoroughly. It was clear then he hadn’t wished to be found. And so she had done him one final favor and stopped looking. It had only served to stoke the pain of betrayal anyway. And she had never been a masochist. and they'll cut you like a weapon Heartfire RE: HEARTFIRE - Wyrm - 02-05-2019 Whatever Heartfire thought of him, however much anger and pain lay boiling in that black stone of her heart, even the countless years they’d spent together (now outmatched by the years spent apart) wouldn’t be enough to change or soften Wyrm’s demeanor towards her, though she clearly deserved kindness. Heartfire, as he well knew, was a creature ensconced in the perpetual past-tense. Her visions could only extend from the current time backwards, as he’d seen himself many times before, but Wyrm’s head was riddled with the future. More specifically his future, which had been granted to him in the form of a burning tree those many years ago - when The Chamber still stood strong. “A fool and a genius both tread the same the path.” He rattles out, twisting two green ears to where she stands. He seems unperturbed by the hint of acid in her tone. “Who else would I summon?” He laughs, a singularly dry sort of chuckle. Perhaps if she gave the matter some thought, it might not surprise her as to why he’d decided to give her a ‘call’. “You’ve seen him, spoken to him. Magnificent boy that he is. Infinitely more promising than Longclaw …” He sighs, creaking under the weight of brittle joints, “May he rest.” The manipulator hums in afterthought. Of course he’s speaking in context about Wolfbane, the only natural tie that could drive him to the roan mare’s clutches. “I knew he would come, knew he must exist at some point yet -” He rambles, seemingly wistful like a forlorn lover, “- I never could’ve guessed by my own blood. The son of my son. Our hope.” He wheezes softly, nearly forgetting the blue-eyed female who’d carried Claw and a twin in her own belly. As then is now, Heartfire had been to Wyrm like everyone else had been: a tool to further himself. Shame, regret, anger over his own involvement in the downfall of Bane’s father … these deflect from his mind without ever taking root. He sees himself as inscrutable to others but utterly justified in his thoughts and actions. “Where has he fled?” The shifter wants to know, eerily tilting the hollow sockets of his face in the direction where his once-mate now stood. “I must see him, speak to him. Wolfbane must come home.” @[Heartfire] RE: HEARTFIRE - Heartfire - 02-05-2019 She's got the devil's eyes Only fools refuse to learn from the past. A fact Heartfire understands far better than most. Wyrm might have his attention fixed on the future, but she understands the value in knowing the past and present. Far more than what value there may be in knowing the future. It’s fickle, at best, the future. She knows enough to know how easily small, seemingly inconsequential things can change its course. She has been its orchestrator enough to know that it is far more than wishful thinking too. and they'll cut you like a weapon Heartfire RE: HEARTFIRE - Wyrm - 02-06-2019 In the shiver of a moment leaves and branches turn to mere dust above him. Wyrm feels the sudden warmth of an exposed sun across his hide and acutely senses the layer of fine particles that drift down to coat his topline. Without sight he’s aware that Heartfire’s rage, lashing out at him in a tone like the strike of a whip, is an emotion she can now enforce with power. He can’t see what she’s done but he can picture her face so clearly in his mind - the sharp line of her dark lips, the cold glint to her striking eyes - and he knows, he just knows that the sapphire mare’s made herself into a force even he might not consider agitating. “I have one child left to me, and Rapture is a mother herself now.” He murmurs roughly, giving Heartfire’s final statement a moment to settle into silence. Both Longclaw and his twin sister had sprouted like weeds after their separation, leaving Wyrm to secretly marvel at their advances from afar long after he’d put the blue stallion out on his own four hooves. Now those days were over, like his, and he was happy to not have squandered his fertile years as his own sire had done. No two other children could have been more acceptable to him. “I was able to coerce you into meeting me one final time,” The shifter smirks, grizzled yet charming when he takes a painfully slow step in her direction. “but my dying wish is to speak with Bane.” Eons ago, (it seems) when he was young and had stolen a brief look into the twisting flames of his future, Wyrm had been given the vision of seeing his grandson. There, in the hot glow of something he couldn’t explain, stood a stallion with bold, white wings. His skin had been golden, slashed through with iridescent stripes so blue even the heart of the fire couldn’t dim them. It made no sense, not back then. If she only knew how many countless hours he’d spent looking for that same stallion, coming up empty time and time again. Years of waiting, years of watching Longclaw sire child after child until - at last! - to his earnest surprise the colt of his waking dreams slid into existence. That very night he’d torn his useless eyes clean from their resting place inside his skull and vowed to wait for a sign. “If you won’t tell me where he is, maybe you can send him a message instead. Something to show him I’m here … something to make him visit, at least.” He barters, before a ripple of movement flicks like a shadow over his skin. He’s gone blue, the same color Longclaw sported so proudly all his life. @[Heartfire] RE: HEARTFIRE - Heartfire - 02-07-2019 She's got the devil's eyes She had not come as a kindness to him. No, perhaps it is foolish, but she had come here today to demonstrate, at long last, she had made the right decision all those years ago. And she had, she thinks now. She may regret many things in her life, but this would not be one of them. and they'll cut you like a weapon Heartfire RE: HEARTFIRE - Wyrm - 02-08-2019 A long silence follows in the wake of Wyrm’s words. Without eyes he studies her with his mind, patiently and silently recalling the memories they spun together, pulling the long-forgotten images from a dark, dank corner in his head. Heartfire was the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend. Long, long ago he’d had a half sister, but his distaste for her existence was immediate and resulted in their mutual parting of ways. After that it was the roan mare - and only the roan mare - who could coax him into the semblance of a normal, functioning horse. Every other living creature, right up until Epithet sparked a very brief respite from constant boredom, tested his reserve and drove the blue stallion further into hermitage. It was simple fact: Heartfire’s life eclipsed over his and those moments were near to perfection. Nothing else he could recall would ever come close to shining in the same brilliance. Not until he would complete the cycle, fulfill the prophecy. Not until then. “Because,” He sighs, turning himself at the molecular level, changing in density so that he begins to sink into the earth. He feels tired just now, so incredibly aged. “if our roles were reversed and you came to me like this - weak, I mean. You know I’m weak.” The ghostly apparition goes off track, only a head and bony hips exposed above the ground. He looks like he’s gone for a swim in the forest floor. “If you came to me like this and asked me the same thing, regardless of future or past, I would send the message.” Wyrm mutters. Her rational side might disagree, but in the quiet minutes of reflection she would come to another conclusion. She would (perhaps begrudgingly) have to admit it was possible. “Let him see and decide for himself. Send it Heartfire.” He sighs again, defeated. “Please.” @[Heartfire] RE: HEARTFIRE - Heartfire - 02-14-2019 She's got the devil's eyes Once, long ago, they had shared something between them. Even she could not deny that. And perhaps that is what had made it worse, what had made their inevitable break as harsh and painful as it had been. Heartfire does not trust easily, and once lost, there is no regaining it. and they'll cut you like a weapon Heartfire RE: HEARTFIRE - Wyrm - 02-19-2019 Just the sound of her begrudging acceptance is all Wyrm needs to flash a withered, toothy smile. Once he might’ve been considered attractive; handsome by anyone’s standards here in Beqanna. Now his body seemed to match the ugly hidden away inside. A grin only served to enhance the already unusually creepy habits he took with him wherever Wyrm went. Not to be mistaken for ill intentions, the shape-shifter twists his lips again and goes back to adopting his trademark stoicism. Heartfire could hardly stand him as-is, he couldn’t see a reason to irritate her further by acting like a giddy colt. “You have nothing at all to concern yourself with.” The shimmering blue stallion murmured shakily, stepping out from his sunken position and back up to stand topside again, “But be my guest, watch us all you like little eavesdropper.” He taunts her mildly. Shifting his legs and schooling his face, Wyrm comes to stand with three hooves firmly squared and one hind leg stretched ever so slightly back. He tilts his head, angles his face away so that only a single eyeless socket could be observed by the female overseer, and readies himself like a famous individual prepping to have their photo taken. This is probably the most fun he’s had in … ages. For a moment he holds his breath and the Forest seems to grow quiet around the two of them. He remembers waking up so long ago, his shifting stripped bare and only immortality to keep him going. He remembers seeing Heartfire then - the first horse he’d come across after the reckoning - and how he’d known that it was her, it would always be her that suited him best. He sighs, the moment ends, and with a soft grunt the old beast relaxes again. “I’m aware that you’ve … moved on. With your life and your descendants.” Wyrm rumbles, “Were I a younger horse …” He muses blindly, knowing now that if he stepped in close to brush his mouth across her cheek she might just take his throat in exchange. No, best to leave on a good note. “I owe you one.” The shifter says finally, hunching his back to sprout two brown-barred wings. Feathers peel up and fluff out from his chest and belly, his tail shrinks away and folds itself into more stiff plumage, bits and pieces of his body alter and mold themselves like clay. The iridescent male changes into a common barn owl. “See you never!” The smaller creature trills, a joke within a joke as his eyebrows lift over haunting, empty eyeholes. Wyrm takes flight, a silent and soft exit like his entrance, soaring right through the trunks and branches which would stop any regular traveler. He never looks back; he only sees what lies ahead. @[Heartfire] |