I died to be the ghost of the man I was meant to be; Adria - 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: Hyaline (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=92) +------ Forum: Silver Cove (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=59) +------ Thread: I died to be the ghost of the man I was meant to be; Adria (/showthread.php?tid=22366) |
I died to be the ghost of the man I was meant to be; Adria - Jinn - 12-31-2018 Jinn I had a dream that we were dead, and we pretended that we still lived He hadn’t known he would come until he had taken his first step across the border into the coastal land. He hadn’t truly thought about coming here. Not really. The thought terrified him, truth be told. He wasn’t entirely certain her remembers right. Why would she have invited him here? The first time they’d met, she had fled with no explanation. The second time, she’d stayed only long enough to offer an apology. He still wasn’t entirely certain why she had apologized. She’s the first who had ever done so. Perhaps that is why he’s here now. Perhaps that is what had made him come. Why he’s seeking her out when he has always taken such great pains to remain hidden and unnoticed. Nothing good has ever come from those that have noticed him. For a long time he lingers on the borders of the kingdom, peering through the small copse of trees he had taken shelter in. Several times he nearly turns and leaves, but loneliness always stays his feet. It’s foolish, he thinks. Foolish to believe that this time might be different. But at heart he has always been a fool. He doesn’t know how much time has passed before he finally gathers the courage to continue forward. To make his way beyond the trees, clinging to the foothills bordering the mountains that bar the beach from his sight. He sees no one, and though a part of him is grateful, another part wonders how he might find her. He’s never tried to seek anyone out before. Does not even know where to begin. He slows when he reaches another copse of trees, sorely tempted to halt entirely. But when he makes his way to the other side, he is released onto the banks of a small lake, the waters calm and crystalline beneath the vibrant reds and golds of a sun that even now hangs low over the horizon. He pauses for a moment, staring at the water, remembering how she had risen from the river to find him that very first time. Stepping forward hesitantly, he peers into the still liquid when he reaches the earthy shore, finding only his reflection staring back at him. Gaunt, dusty black tipped by gold. A boldly crooked stripe down the bridge of his nose. What should have been lovely made grotesque by death. He flinches back from his reflection, eyes closing as he inhales shakily. He doesn’t know why he thought he’d find her there. It is only a small lake, clearly unattached to any other body of water. But he’s always been so foolishly hopeful, hasn’t he? @[Adria] RE: I died to be the ghost of the man I was meant to be; Adria - Adria - 01-02-2019 Adria I felt nothing at all, freedom of the fall @[Jinn] RE: I died to be the ghost of the man I was meant to be; Adria - Jinn - 01-08-2019 Jinn I had a dream that we were dead, and we pretended that we still lived For a moment he thinks perhaps he had, quite by accident, stumbled across the right lake. When the soft, faintly concerned notes of her lovely voice reaches his ears, his eyes pop open, milky blue gaze falling to the still surface. He is confused for a moment, but when she speaks once more, from behind him, he swings his head around to find her staring at him from the edges for the trees. He blinks for a moment, before shifting, slightly uncomfortable to be so exposed near the water’s edge. He flicks the golden strands of his tail haphazardly, as though it might hide the way his hip bones jut against his loose skin, or the way his ribs are so clearly defined through his shaggy, patchy pelt. Even before the plague, he had looked thus. Sickly, as though he should be sprawled dead on the ground rather than walking and breathing and speaking. As though other’s needed further reason to avoid him. More ways in which he might be seen as unsightly and beastly. “Adria,” he replies, his uncertainty seeping into his voice. “Yes, I… suppose it is.” He shifts again, his gaze darting to the safety of the trees, as though contemplating ducking for cover. “I just… wasn’t sure where to find you.” A half laugh escapes him at that, though it quickly turns into a faint cough, a clearing of his throat. Foolish really, as it turns out she hadn’t been too difficult to find. But he has so rarely had opportunity to practice conversation, to seek out others. Friendship is as foreign to him as the kingdoms he never visits. “That is, if you still want me here,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. A frown touches his lips with the words, the possibility that he might no longer be welcome stirring an ache in his chest, sending anxious thoughts tumbling through his mind. “I can go, if you don’t.” |