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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Out with the golden we sew // Khaedrik
    #1
    Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
    Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
    He's gotten taller, though not much wider - we're the same height now, or close enough, but he's still as gangling as he ever has been. It's fucking weird, having him be able to keep up with my strides as I stalk from Hyaline to the forest ("Walk with me before I explode Khaedrik, I need some good goddamn actual company"). And even though his presence usually soothes the tempers I've been finding myself in more and more often (talk about irritable), today, there's practically steam rising out of my ears.

    I talk as we walk.

    "I just don't understand, Khae. It's like everything anyone says pisses me off, and there's nothing I can do about it." We haven't quite entered the forest yet, we've still a ways to go, but the sun is bright overhead and although I want to relish it and enjoy the final fleeting warmth of a dying autumn, I snarl internally at its blinding light. "And it's just, I -- there's this other thing."

    I slow down my pace from rapidly stalking to a sort of deflated shuffle. My nutmeg eyes flash to the boy's black ones, and I try to smile at his goofy and serious face, but the expression probably looks more sour than sweet. "Khae, you know me better than anyone... And you know that I've always tried to be a light kind of person. But lately, it's like all I can think about is the darkness, no matter what."

    I watch the teenager's face for a reaction, for any type of emotional input. "And I know that maybe you don't have very much experience with the light yourself, but... Is there something wrong with me?"

    Sigh.
    Kagerus
    sweet nothing


    @[Khaedrik]
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver
    Reply
    #2


    Khaedrik crept through the unrelenting sunshine, and today there was no warmth in him – today he was but cold as the universe around him, and lonely. He misses his sister, though Khaedrik would never understand such a feeling. Khaedrik was not a creature of emotion and longing. He was strange and fickle; he was made of lunacy and shadows and his bolide-eyes held nothing but consuming delusion. He would perhaps never understand it, but he was only whole standing in her shadow.

    In hoarse and whispered voices, others might call him mad, might speak of his delusional infatuation with shadows. But not she, never his dreamer-sister, balancing so neatly on the line between the worlds that was hers and not hers. She is his, inexorably, spun into his soul from the very first day that he lived. His body still bears the last remaining marks of a childhood he´s forsaken. He has seen how she sometimes slips away from Hyaline, unseen – unnoticed, by any but his own keen eyes. But today she is here - he can feel her smell on the wind. He forced himself through the thick air; felt it wet and grating against his golden flesh, and made his way to her. Even with his eyes squeezed shut against the blinding, aching sunlight; he knows his way, across their home. But he was not deterred. He felt her, always there, like a spider-web on his heart, gossamer as nothing else, catching flies for him to feed on. He lived off this feeling, was soothed by it in her absence. Today he would not have to miss her though; today they would be together.

    There is something off about her though – and his shadows take pause halfway, virulent darkness floating on the air between them. Khaedrik´s sensitive nose twists – she reeks of something unfamiliar (ruination?) but Khaedrik is too young, too strange to understand that part of his sisters life. Perhaps he never will. But there is a strange distress about her, and as she invites him to walk with her, he doesn’t question her motives. His golden shoulder, still small and scrawny, presses against the motley of her skin as she spills her secrets to his waiting ears.

    ”You are my light” he says, simply. He has no comfort to give; for he fights the same battle – and if she cannot keep herself bound to the light – then how can he? His shadows curl around them, shrouding brother and sister in darkness until they are unseen by any and all who might wander the forest tonight, a quiet reminder of who they are.

    ”Why must we always fight it?” and there is defiance, haughty and bitter in the lilt of his voice. He understands and yet he does not – for he has long since yielded to his darkness, but he longs to annihilate that which troubles her mind – whatever it may be.

    ”You…smell different” he remarks – as if that foreign smell might have something to do with her plight.


    @[Kagerus]
    Reply
    #3
    Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
    Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
    Well, I know my little brother pretty well, and if you were to ask me, I would tell you that he is an emotional creature, he just happens to not have the slightest clue as to how to deal with them. As of right now, he was going through a bit of a angsty teenage phase, though I would never admit that to him - especially since these days, it feels like I'm going through the same damn thing. Except I happen to be over twenty years old... But I still look the part of a youthful girl, thanks, immortality.

    Anyway.

    I wonder at the way his shadows pause in their rush to greet me with tickles and kisses, as I have become used to when he and I reunite. It's unsettling, watching such an intrepid part of my brother hesitate and balk at the sight of me - I have no idea why that might be, but it disrupts my mental balance, and for the rest of our walk together, I can't seem to recover it.

    But he's there with his shoulder pressed against mine, supporting me as I fumble along (mostly with my words).

    You are my light.

    I smile gently at this admission - so tender coming from his still-velvety lips - and lean through the shadows he has cast around us to plant a kiss on his slender cheek. I'm used to his playful uses of his magic by now, and in fact I like them - far better to have it this way, than to revert back to his nightmares and internal dilemmas.

    Why must we always fight it?

    I sigh at this question, one that cannot be answered with a simple kiss. "I'll tell you why, Khae."

    We round a curve in the worn pathway that approaches the forest, trees already dotting around us more frequently than before.

    "I'm sure dad has told you lots about our family - especially about Grandma Rou and Grandpa Rhaego, but I'll bet he's mentioned Uncle Rodrik, too." I pause in my answer to his question, laughing a little. "You're named after them, actually, just like me. Kagerou, Rhaego, Rodrik. K-hae-drik. Mine's more self explanatory."

    "Anyway, I'm off topic. Uncle Rodrik grew up in the Jungle with dad, and he was a sweet, normal boy, with a love for his family that exists still to this day... But time has treated Uncle far differently than it has Father."


    My mind's eye travels to that golden man, affection and warmth radiating from my heart at the thought of him. I love him so.

    "Where dad found love and a family of his own, Uncle found... well, he ruled the Chamber, a kingdom of evil in a Beqanna you will never know. And from then on he's been... different. He stopped trying to find the light, he stopped fighting, like you said. And he's... He's worse than your shadow creatures, Khae."

    "He looks like the devil, but I know he has the heart of the child he once was. He's been around again lately... We met not long ago."

    "Maybe I should introduce you two. You'd get along."
    I dig my shoulder into his a with a small grin, hoping he'll get the joke.

    He comments on my scent then, and I frown... What one earth is that supposed to mean?

    "Different?... In what kind of way?"
    Kagerus
    sweet nothing


    @[Khaedrik]
    What would you think if Khaedrik's shadows were able read Kag's DNA or something magical like that, and then they talk to Khae, and Khae has to tell Kag that not only is she pregnant, but that she'll die once she has the kid :|
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver
    Reply
    #4


    She speaks and he listens – as he always has. Oh, he is a rapt listener; made wide-eyed and attentive to her stories. Khaedrik – little shadow fiend, savors her stories – basks in the way they make him feel whole, part of something other than shadows and darkness and sin. He smiles then, but it was so void of expression that it seemed very hollow against the solidity of his curves.

    ”Where is he now, this uncle Rodrik?”

    His voice is strangely mellifluous, fervent even. And perhaps it is not strange to her, but to him, the ever passionless, the colt made of void-dust and stale apathy, it is a curiosity. But there is no time to linger upon the subject of undead uncles; for she has asked a question and he must answer. Different.. In what kind of way?.

    ”I…I don´t know, I can´t recognize it” comes his response, unsure and suspicious

    His nose wrinkles as he turns to his shadows; and they are strangely alive with ungodly glee at her words. Oh, they whisper, tales of corrupt prophecy, sultry suggestions and perilous paths, low and raspy; taunting his discerning ear.

    ”They say they can show me.” and part of him strains against this unholy idea, the other part; the greater part – yields to curiosity and so he lets them.

    They curl around her then; seeking, prodding – but their touch is vile, godless. Oh, how they long to whisper fallacies to her ears – but their language is their own and Khaedrik is the only one to understand. He freezes – they are too athirst, too eager to obey. Listen his shadows beg him, coiling snakes of heresy. Oh, they will show him, show him her sins, ready to shatter that bond that tethers brother to sister and sanity. They are foreign to such tender devotion, never made to wield murmurs and crooning. But they drape around him – and he can hear the silent screams of his sister in his mind, terrible images of a future that cannot, must not be true. He can see the surprise in her expression, the way in which she watches her foal´s reflection dull and flicker out in her eyes. These were the things that his shadows fed on as Khaedrik stood; lifeless, listless.  And over the intoxicating smell of flowers and sunshine did the vague smell of decaying flesh plague his nostrils. And is that blood, Khaedrik, sprayed in a fine mist along her thigh, that glitters so sickeningly red against her pale, pale skin?

    ”No” he whispers ”No, no, no”

    He sees now; with asphyxiating clarity. He knows what she has done and the world falls apart. It is a terrible angst that palpitates against his heart, astringent and roaring. Woe! It grows to its height, endless volleys of blinding light – Khaedrik chokes on it, fears it and wishes for nothing more than to recoil into the tender gloom, spun of shadows and nightmares.

    ”What have you done” he wails – as his shadows continue to twirl in glee - ”What have you done”


    @[Kagerus]

    Uhm yes - I have no idea what this is - Khaedrik-muse kind of went out of control. Lemme know if you want me to change anything!
    Reply
    #5
    Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
    Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
    "He is lurking in the shadows, as he is wont to do." I chuckle, appreciating the irony of where we find ourselves right now in contrast to my statement - in a literal shadow. "I think... I think you should meet him. Go to the forest tomorrow night and wait - he will be expecting you." I make a mental note to dream deeply tonight, as what I will attempt will take quite an effort - to transmit thought to my Uncle will be an undertaking indeed. But it is worth it if it means I get to reunite my family, piece by piece.

    I am at ease with our conversation (even when the edges of his voice pick up with a never before seen interest and life) until his response to my question. I decidedly halt, watching his shadows balk around my form, almost hesitant to push me past where I want to go. My eyes nutmeg eyes are harsh as his nose wrinkles, my ears pressing back, a sick feeling rising in my throat until I'm almost gagging. Something has been off about me. And he - no - his shadows can sense it.

    They say they can show me.
    I don't want to be shown.
    But he trusted me when my powers were held above his head; and so I set my mouth in a hard line and nod my permission.

    Their hesitation to touch me before was only a facade.
    I stumble as they invade me, crying out against their vile touch, slimy and too-soft, with voices that I can't understand but which leave me trembling regardless. In an instant I have forgotten my decision to respect his magic, my eyes are darting about and I beg my legs to let me flee - but his shadows are around my ankles and sliding up to my knees like braces, trapping me in their phallic embrace, sending a ripple of pain through my body as if to warn me of something far worse to come.

    "Khaedrik! Make them stop!" I cannot help the words, they are high pitched and panic as my brother has never before heard, tears clouding my vision of the colt as he stands completely lifeless. Through the shadows, which cackle with glee, I catch his whisper:

    No, no, no, no.

    I am lost. The abyss - it's serenity had been a blanket lie, the kind that leaves you completely without inhibitions, subject to your dirtiest desires. And now Khae has seen mine - has seen me - has seen the creature that I know is invading my womb, but that I have been constantly denying.

    We had sex in a dream. It couldn't possibly result in life.
    (What did you expect. You foolish girl.)
    It was you who convinced me to give over to the dark!
    (And why do you think I did? Can't you see I'm not on your side?)
    You fucking lied to me, I --
    (You lied to yourself, slut. Now deal with it.)

    His shadows have laid off my figure, though they still swirl through the air with a devilish glee. My body shakes and aches, but I force myself to stare at the lanky boy, to listen to his wailing even though it's the last sound I want to hear. In the chaos of this moment, with the noise bombarding me and the pain still apparent in my joints, I curl back my lips and lash out, snarling.

    "I just had sex Khaedrik! What's the big deal?"

    I realize what I have said then (or more importantly, how,) and a look of pure regret floods my face. My hoof slides forward, I grimace, my head tilting, reaching for him, a sickly and needy tone filling my false-sweet voice.

    "All it was was sex. That's - that's all I have done." I smile, nodding, a feverish gleam in my eyes. "No need to cry!"
    Kagerus
    sweet nothing


    @[Rodrik] this first paragraph pertains to you Wink
    @[Khaedrik] well, kag is fucking losing her shit :| enjoy.
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver
    Reply
    #6


    She has abandoned you they rasp. A cacophony of monsters and malice. She is a whore, a selfish, worthless whore.  The forked tongue in the back of his mind whispers yes, serpentine with its lovely promises.

    His ears flatten against his skull; he will not listen, will not perish. He loves her. Loves her. But it is too late, he is too late. They know it, too, and now their claws tear at the fabric that hangs silk-smooth and shadow-thin between him and their world. They trod the paths of his mind as though it was their birthplace, easygoing in an accursed, beguiling veil. He is forever that spiral, winding mind-numbingly until one is ensnared within the lines and cannot escape the steadily going inward… inward and nowhere into itself. The spiral is a self-loathing shape.

    What does he know of her transgressions? He is too young, too inexperienced to understand such things. He shrinks under her snarls – can´t she see that he is lost?  His eyes, fissured grey like falling stare at her in despair. He needs her to understand – and this need pours into turmoil, spawning a creature of senseless rage. It roars within his chest, haloed by ink-black darkness.

    His voice grows harsh with aimless agony. It crescendos to what the wind would call a wolf howl, a cry so nightmarish and unplaceable that the last bit of light shrunk away, not knowing what to call it and fearing the unfamiliarity.

    Darkness overcomes him then – suffocating, soothing, until he is lost within it. And he dissolves, disappears from her, surrenders until he is nothing but wispy shadow. He is everywhere at once, lithe and unreachable. He is nothing. Shadow and lament. A ghost.

    And then all that remains is his voice; smoke on the wind.

    ”Don´t you know” the voice says; the voice that is him and they and nothing and everything; hollow, broken, empty. Dead. ”It will kill you”


    @[Kagerus] poor Kag just had to be tormented a little more
    Reply
    #7
    Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
    Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.
    No. In my pain and confusion, I cannot see that he is lost: for once in my life, I am selfish, inward, feeling only that which I am, instead of that which the others are around me. I cannot adjust my behaviour to accommodate his youth before it is too late, and by the time I am scrambling to recover the fragments our relationship, no pieces remain.

    I pin my ears to my skull as his cry raises into a howl so intense that I am left whimpering and backing away, my tail tucked between my legs. I have only ever known my brother as one who worships me, who loves me, who shows me his true self; this monster, who cries and scream and leaves me feeling like I am black on the insides, is no one I know.

    Or perhaps, he is someone whose existence I hoped I could ignore until it perished.

    But we are both creatures of darkness. And maybe now I'll finally be able to admit that to myself.

    When I raise my nutmeg eyes into the blackness that now swallows us whole, he is not there to herald it: I blink my eyes and cry a wordless sound, begging him to come back: but my only answer is his voice, coming at me from every angle, uttering words that leave me on my knees, stones rendering them bloody.

    Don't you know?
    It will kill you.


    "No..." My head is shaking, I'm still surrounded by his darkness, I'm lost in a different abyss and suddenly its not a nightmare but a dream. "No!" I'm on my feet, tears streaming down my eyes, scrambling through the darkness, lost to the whispers of his shadows and to the tormenting voice that reigns in my own head.

    Slut.
    Worthless.
    You deserve to die.


    At some point, I collapse, and do not rise.
    There is nothing left for me to rise for.
    Kagerus
    sweet nothing


    Boop, thread ended :| SO MUCH ANGST.
    @[Khaedrik]
    [Image: kag]
    dreamweaver
    Reply




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