and take the black out of the night -- Eight - 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: River (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=82) +---- Thread: and take the black out of the night -- Eight (/showthread.php?tid=22541) |
and take the black out of the night -- Eight - Ryatah - 01-11-2019 ryatah hell is empty and all the devils are here
For the first time in over a hundred years, her eyes are open. She sees them – all of them, and everything around them – and yet she has become so accustomed to relying on her other senses that for a moment, it had almost been too much. To see, to hear, and to smell – everything was too loud, and much too bright, and when Carnage had left her, she had remained in the dark. She was used to it; something she never thought she would say. The shadows and the night were the closest thing she had to the world she had become adapted to, and so it was still in the veil of darkness that she kept herself shrouded in. Away from the rest of them, away from Skellig, and away from the glaring light. But the stars – they are enough to draw her out. She can see the silver light of the moon as it strains through the trees up above, and she follows the path it spills across the ground, until she emerges from the treeline, a flash of white in the dark. She hardly notices as her legs carry her to the river’s edge, her face tilted upwards. For the first time, she ignores the sounds of others milling around nearby, realizing that she didn’t have to acknowledge everyone to make sure they were aware that the eyeless ghost next to them wasn’t completely oblivious to their presence. Instead, her gaze remains focused on the blue-black sky above, the shimmer of the stars reflecting in her newborn, almost sable colored eyes. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, there is a worry – a nagging feeling, his words still twisting in her head. She has ran over them so many times, until their sharp edges had been worn smooth from the way she had been flipping, and turning, and dissecting the entire encounter. He never did anything for free; she already knew this. What she wasn’t sure of, however, was the enigmatic way in which he had left her, instead of just saying – or taking – what he wanted right then. A sound nearby pulls her attention from the skies above, listening carefully for what lay beneath the rush of water over rock, and the wind through the trees. And when she sees him – still such a strange thing for her to be able to do – she is again flooded with memories that had long lay dormant. First Ashhal, and then Carnage – and him now, too, it seems, and she cannot help but to wonder why does she keep finding her way back to things that should have been laid to rest years ago. And more importantly, why does she always walk towards the chaos, instead of leaving it behind. “All of the ghosts of my past are coming out to haunt me, it seems,” she says with a simper that spreads like a whisper across her pale lips, her stark white body coming to rest easily alongside his. Through the strands of her silver forelock, she peers up at him, his name still fitting so perfectly on her tongue when she says, ”Hello again, Eight.” @[Eight] RE: and take the black out of the night -- Eight - Eight - 01-17-2019 no matter what they say, I am still the king RE: and take the black out of the night -- Eight - Ryatah - 01-24-2019 ryatah hell is empty and all the devils are here
It had taken her awhile, at first, to learn the differences in Beqanna. When the earth had first shifted, when mountains had moved and forests were leveled and other lands had risen from their ashes, she had been forced to adapt. Everything that she had known previously had changed, and her once deft and confident — albeit blind — steps were once more cautious, unsure. It had taken her years to truly memorize this place, and just like that, the familiarity was stripped from her. And now, with her eyes, it is like having to learn it all over again. The image that she had painted in her darkness does not completely match what she actually sees. Everything is different. Everyone here looks different. Most of them are strangers; a glaring reminder of what she has missed. But some have remained the same. And though they are toxic and release poison into her veins, she still relishes in the simple fact that they are familiar, even more so now that all the changes are laid before her open eyes. He is the same too, in some ways. He is still dark and enigmatic, never tilting his head to look at her. Funny, how she never would have known that before; it is little things like that, she is discovering, that makes her feel like perhaps she never mastered her disability quite the way she had initially thought. ”I’m always out,” and there is a laugh threaded in her words, referencing to the fact that she is trying to make Tephra her home, and yet she can’t seem to make herself stay. Some parts of her will never change, it seemed — no one had a strong enough hold on her anymore to keep her rooted. Not even the one she loved most. ”And you? You just couldn’t stay away?” RE: and take the black out of the night -- Eight - Eight - 01-25-2019 Idk what this trash is, sorry. Nooot my day. no matter what they say, I am still the king RE: and take the black out of the night -- Eight - Ryatah - 02-05-2019 ryatah hell is empty and all the devils are here For several years, she had been quiet. Her blood was still here, in the veins of those she didn’t know, attached to names she has never heard and stemming from even more names that were still strangers. But she wasn’t one of them; she didn’t belong anymore, if she ever had. No one ever paid much attention to the ghostly waif that drifted on the fringes, and she rarely – never – made an effort to amend that. She had accepted that her time had come and gone, and although the reasons that death would not take her (and keep her) still remained unknown, she didn’t contest it. She let the monotony settle into her soul like lead, she let herself drown in her own apathy, and maybe that is why every time there is even a miniscule chance to feel something – anguish, agony, fear – she takes it, greedy and selfish and unconcerned of the consequences. There are only a few that can even begin to stoke the embers that she kept dormant, and he was — sometimes — one of them. For now, though, she is still placid, and if there is something brewing beneath her skin and in the network of her veins when she looks at his dark face, she keeps it at bay. There were some that she would immediately plunge into the familiar game of cat-and-mouse, but he had always been one that she couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t arouse the same fear that others did, even though he should — she supposed she just hasn’t been fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of that side of him, yet. ”How lucky for the rest of us, then, that the world is so boring that you come back here,” spoken with another whisper of a laugh, and she meets his gaze with a curious tilt of her head in response to his last statement. ”It’s the eyes. They’re relatively new.” It has been so long that she isn’t even sure who knew her from before — a hundred or so years ago, when she wasn’t just simply the girl that Carnage blinded, when she was less than nothing but somehow still more herself than she ever would be again. She hardly even remembers that girl anymore, and it doesn’t surprise her when no one else does either. |