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[private] do you feel like a young god? ciri - 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: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Tephra (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=85) +------ Forum: Ischia (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=87) +------ Thread: [private] do you feel like a young god? ciri (/showthread.php?tid=17167) |
do you feel like a young god? ciri - Amet - 11-09-2017 if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes (Post-Castile/Amet in River & Post-Jah/Amet in Ischia...) (Will mention those vaguely since NEITHER ARE DONE YET BUT JEJE IS IMPATIENT) He awakens, groggy and sore and quite under the weather. Whatever Jah-Lilah have given the stallion had been... astonishingly eye-opening, but such encounters call for much solitude after, in hopes to reflect upon the wisdom the soothsayer had bestowed upon him and the things he had seen during his journey. The gilded king as rocked himself from the sandy loam, leather-plating ridding itself of the granules easily. His foreleg and his head ache dully, prompting a groan from Amet as he finally starts to move ─ this time, in the direction of the mainland. The tropical trees offer a plethora of shade with their giant verdant boughs and the Akhal-Teke is thankful for this fact. His strides are slow and leisurely, lacking the lightness of his usual gait, but at least Jah-Lilah has given him a distraction. Something to keep his mind away from Ciri, even when her scent drifts to him on the breeze and his chest threatens to tighten and suffocate his heart. Amet grunts, turning his amber eyes towards the ground as he continues on his mission to leave, to get out of Ischia and back to the safety of Hyaline. The gilded king forces himself to think of his journey (the one before him and the one behind him ─ anything, really, to avoid the thought of her) as he pulls away from the treeline, only to have his amber eyes rest on the smoky black frame of Ciri as her voice rings out hopefully (Castile) to a familiar tobiano. He nearly scoffs (nearly gasps, nearly sighs ─ there are too many emotions to choose from), instead finds it in him to bite his tongue as he silently takes the two strides back to the shelter of the tropical jungle, beneath the hanging branches and between the vines, and continues in the shadows while he tries to figure out what the second best route back to Hyaline would be. After some time, Circinae, he realizes, could probably be of assistance, and Amet begrudgingly turns around to search for his emerald friend, all the while repressing the hot anger and pain threatening to flare in his chest. Amet @[Ciri] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Ciri - 11-09-2017 Since Sii want to make my life difficult this is after Castile convo and only mentioned vaguely since DONT KNOW HOW THATS GOING ;p ![]() Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Amet] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Amet - 11-10-2017 if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes His foreleg is still stiff despite the healthy amount of walking he's done so far today. The stallion had hoped that it would loosen, that he hadn't actually harmed himself during his adventure with Jah-Lilah, but he is starting to doubt that it's entirely unscathed. The way his hooves sink into the sand does little to assist the sore appendage, but there is no avoiding the terrain as he trudges across the island. It would seem that Circinae has left Ischia for the day, most likely through her water portal, and Amet sighs dejectedly. He will need to venture back towards the shore, towards Ciri and Castile. Towards another bout of heartbreak. The young king suddenly screams his frustration into the trees, letting the sound echo through the verdant topiary and coax colorful birds from their roosts. He pays no mind to their wings and the way they rustle through the branches, instead pivoting his malnourished golden body around so that he may head again in the direction of home. The rustling of a creature much larger than a bird draws his attention and Amet slings his head towards the noise, his pupils narrowed as he waits for whoever it is to break through the trees and vines. Perhaps it's Circinae, he hopes, but alas... Their eyes meet, all gold and silver and rife with emotion. Amet's breath catches and his heartbeat does the same, threatening to break that which beats within his narrow chest. He hadn't wanted for her to see him like this ─ thin, unhealthy, heartbroken, sickly. His jaw clenches and he turns his gilded frame to get out of her way if she wants to move by him and he wills the hurt inside of him back down once more, hiding it deep within him in hopes that doing so for long enough will dissolve the emotions entirely. "Sorry," he says finally, breaking the silence with a hollow voice, "if I interrupted your meeting with Castile. I was just trying to go home." He can still hear her voice calling to the other stallion. The hope that had trickled into it. His ears flit backwards briefly before his neutral countenance returns, eyes moving beyond Amet @[Ciri] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Ciri - 11-10-2017 ![]() Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Amet] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Amet - 11-11-2017 if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes He is almost free (almost). Amet concentrates on the trees, the sand, the clear sky for the brief moments between his directional adjustment and Ciri's scathing, hardened tone. Anything but her, the source of his heartbreak. The gilded stallion is not surprised, though, when he isn't given the gift of solitude. When he doesn't get to avoid their conversation for another day. She throws his title in his face and Amet jerks his leather-plated head back to lock his gaze on the starry-eyed girl, amazed at the anger in her voice. He doesn't find words right away ─ he is focused too intently on the rage in Ciri's scarred face, the swirling of her silver eyes, the stars that begin to descend on her. He thinks to reach his mind out to her, to dampen her control of the stars with his nihilism until he is certain he is not in danger, but no, he could never (would never) make her feel powerless like that. She is not a creature to be bridled or caged. And her inner storm is raging to show him just that. Ciri's voice grows louder, her rage permeating from her silver eyes and her taut muscles. She nearly quivers as she screams HOW DARE YOU! and the dragon king is rising to meet her now, his own face twisted with anger. "How dare I? I give you my soul and you ask me to just be okay with shari ─" he is cut off as she hisses venomously again and he tucks his golden head to his chest, blunt teeth clenched together in pain and rage. "I've done nothing," he retorts, but then he realizes what she is telling him, though slowly at first. Her sides have widened, her scarred back swayed with added weight. His mind flashes to their night in Sylva, joined in ecstasy beneath the golden trees. "What?" drops quietly from his lips, all anger ebbing into disbelief as he gazes on the daughter of the stars with widened amber eyes. Ciri's rage climaxes, exploding around them and pushing Amet back a stride. She screams at him again, YOU BASTARD!, and the Akhal-Teke's anger comes back in an overwhelming wave, but it's laced in something else. He wants to close the distance between them, to celebrate their creation of life, to hold her close and intimate ─ he is confused in his emotions, raging and ecstatic and wanting all at the same time. "Is is how you tell me that I'm going to be a father? By calling me a bastard? I gave you all of me. All I wanted was you." he whispers at the starry-eyed mare, his chest expanding with his deep and anxious inhales. Amet @[Ciri] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Ciri - 11-11-2017 ![]() Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Amet] RE: do you feel like a young god? ciri - Amet - 11-17-2017 if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes He had thought that his hallucinatory journey with Jah-Lilah had been a mere hallucination. A panther child had been birthed, one that called to him and possessed his undying love from the moment Amet had seen him through the colorful waves. The gilded stallion had put no weight behind the drug-fueled dreams other than in the wisdom that the red wytch had shared with him. But maybe... could it be? Could the peyote have opened a window to the future for him to gaze into? Incredulity at the possibility draws him from his anger, thrusting it away as his amber eyes search the raging inferno of Ciri's silver ones. He had always known her capable of anger. Had always suspected that she knew how to harness the power of the stars even before she had been gifted the ability to do so. No ─ he had not thought the smoky mare meek or fragile. It's the direction of the anger that has pushed him onto his heels. It's that the anger is directed at him. His brows furrow, sad at this realization, as the last acrid remnants of his own rage fade, threatening to return him to his indifference. The young stallion inhales shakily as Ciri's last scathing retort berates his ears and he wills himself to say something to comfort her, to not let her leave as she turns to go. His tongue feels thick as he whispers, "Wait..." and then searches frantically for something else to say. Something to make it better despite the rage and hurt in her eyes. Despite his own desire to be that young colt from the Dunes again. The silence between them stretches for an extra beat, and then two. How to tell her how much she means? How ecstatic he is that they will be parents together? How to tell her that despite these feelings, he is still heartbroken. Still uncertain of his own worth. "Despite my charm," he finally says, quiet but reminiscent of the day he'd asked her to stay in Hyaline, when he'd surprised her with their private den... when they'd explored their own affections and each others' bodies, "I still have no idea what I'm doing." He nickers quietly to her, hoping that she will stay long enough for him to say more. "I love you, Ciri, with every fiber of my being. And I'm sorry that I've hurt you. I'm so..." he clears his throat, head tossing to rid his amber eyes of his forelock and also to bide time, to find the correct way to explain, "... torn. Because I want to be your one and only. Just as I'd like you to be mine. But I... I'm afraid... that asking that of you could make you resent me in the future." He frowns, his amber eyes searching her gaze even though they beg to look elsewhere, afraid to say the wrong thing. "I don't want to cage you, akmar, I just want you to be happy. I just hope that your happiness is with me." The leather-plated king takes a step towards the scarred mare, the mother of his unborn child, and he craves to diminish the distance between them entirely. He yearns to pull her close, but he can't yet ─ not when he is still unsure of what she wants. "A child, akmar," he whispers quietly, his eyes drawn to her widening barrel, "Our child." He feels so small in this great big world, but now so powerful. They had created life, the two of them, out of their love. He just hopes that it is not too late, that the wedge between them has not created a permanent crevice. "You are so beautiful," he lets slip as his gaze returns to her swirling silver eyes, hesitant and hopeful as they stand surrounded by the sounds of Ischia. Amet @[Ciri] |