[private] I don't mind you under my skin. - 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) +----- Thread: [private] I don't mind you under my skin. (/showthread.php?tid=27642) |
I don't mind you under my skin. - Eight - 08-22-2020 no matter what they say, I am still the king @[Sabbath] RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Sabbath - 08-22-2020 Leliana did not give birth to an angry daughter. Sabbath had been like many girls - a soft, timid thing with a heart just yearning to plunge itself over the edge for someone. She had to be taught to hunt, to bare her teeth and take a life. It's hard to believe that it had, at one point, not come naturally to her. But being cast aside time and time again only sharpened the knife of her rage. Now her viper heart beats in perfect time with the war drum of her curse. She stalks the jungle idly, wondering if Varick will come surfing in on the tide once more to see how she fairs after his spell. His magic left her dizzy and confused of what had even happened but his name lingers clearly on her tongue. Sabbath assumes, then, it is him that summons her with the tug of some invisible string. Her wild green eyes narrow as her skin grows hot. The serpent woman slinks between the trees to the source of the call. But it is not the kelpie's handsome face that awaits her. Instead, it is the magician who tasted like broken promises and pipedreams. For a flickering second, time grows still and her anger vanishes. She studies the shape of his ink black wings. (How strange, that she had almost hoped to see her latest suitor.) And then it all comes rushing back like a typhoon as it knocks the air from her lungs. Sabbath clenches her jaw as she approaches him. The fiery red scales across her hips and shoulders catch the freckles of sunlight that find their way between the canopy, casting her in an angry glow. She takes him by the throat for old times' sake and floods his veins with her venom. He'll survive, just like he had before, but it makes her feel better to have his blood smeared across her lips. She holds him there between her jaws a while longer before she releases him. "You taste like the emptiness between the stars. I don't miss it," she tells him, spitting the flavor to the ground. may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper. sabbath RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Eight - 08-22-2020 no matter what they say, I am still the king @[Sabbath] RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Sabbath - 08-22-2020 Her brow furrows when the thoughts of Varick are picked apart and discarded by his magic. A flick of his wrist, and the fresh bud of her new emotions are misplaced. It feels much like walking into a room and forgetting why she'd come here in the first place. Her hatred always come running home any time it gets cast out from her, though, and it shows in the way she scowls at him. She hates how content he looks at having her touch him, any part of him, colliding with any part of her. How dare he ever make her regret an act of violence against him. Her satisfaction at having a mouthful of his skin is already swept away in the breeze as she shifts her weight. Sabbath almost wishes he would bite back just to replace her disappointment with something else. But he never gives her anything she wants from him, and instead dismisses her words. "I could tear you apart, if you'd like. The night is young and I've nothing but time," she offers, grinning with all her pointed teeth still stained the color of his blood. There is a glimpse of happiness for her then, imagining the wild birds picking at his bones here on the jungle floor. Sabbath even finds the breath to laugh softly before his question destroys her smile. What happened to her? She wonders if he actually wants to hear. "Everyone left. Some of them came back," she explains with a shrug. She keeps all her hurt bottled up and tucked away, safe from prying eyes or prodding questions. And besides, what would he do if he saw the bruises he'd left behind? Even Eight's magic could never repair the pieces of her that had broken when she watched the ligt fade from her child's eyes. Sabbath takes a step back, worried he'll just slide his fingers through her memory and see the aching empty in her. So she changes the subject. "What about you? What happened?" may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper. sabbath RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Eight - 08-24-2020 no matter what they say, I am still the king RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Sabbath - 08-24-2020 She has often wondered what it’s like to be the one to leave, rather than the one left behind. Bethlehem didn’t seem to mind waking up to find her gone, nor did Ivar. Was she so easily forgettable? It carves a knife right into her heart and bears a new hurt for her to hide in the way she blinks her eyes quickly. How mortifying, to still be the sad little child after all this time. But she clenches her jaw and she doesn’t flee from this moment despite it. He reminds her that he, at least, came back. And he’s right. Sabbath isn’t sure if this makes her happy or if she’s angrier at him for returning. He even has the nerve to summon her to him. Once upon a time, it would have delighted her to no end. “You did,” she agrees, watching him carefully as her bruised heart lingers just beneath the surface. Eight says he got bored and she imagines it would be easy to grow tired of being here when infinity called his name. She can’t blame him, then. “Given the option, I would have followed you, back then. But you would never ask, would you?” And she hates the question the moment it leaves her lips. The answer is already there, pressed into her palm no matter how she wants to refuse it. Sabbath can only shrug when he asks if the others could have stayed. Death had given her daughter back to her out of some kindness, but Prayer never had the choice to begin with. “I suppose some of them could have stayed. But they didn’t, and I’ve spent enough time nursing my heart,” she says more to herself than to him. “Now.. Now I’m afraid to ever let someone stay. I’m afraid to not be in control. That’s why I got so mad when I saw you here.” And she pauses as she traces the whirlwind of emotions that lead to these words. She hates how talkative she’s becoming but her mouth refuses to be silent again. “I can’t control you. I can’t make you leave, I can’t make you go. I just have to brace for whatever comes.” And at last, she stops speaking. Without even using that god awful magic, he reduces her to this fragility once more. may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper. sabbath RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Eight - 08-26-2020 no matter what they say, I am still the king (now, the storm is coming in) @[Sabbath] RE: I don't mind you under my skin. - Sabbath - 08-26-2020 Sabbath barely remembers what it was like before she was always so angry. It feels as natural as her breathing and yet she wishes she knew how to be soft again - soft like Mother, soft like Prayer. But what has being soft gotten them? She reminds herself of this and bathes in the black water of her rage. Being cruel has kept her alive, kept her safe from the troubles the others have faced. And it’s left her alone. She doesn’t expect the gentle tone when he agrees with her. But he curls back into his usual self when he speaks again. He commands, he says, and she laughs softly at the idea of him trying to command her without the help of his magic. For all his strength, he could never make her yield of her own accord. Maybe that’s why he’s here today. Kill it, he commands, and her laughter stops. Her eyes narrow as she goes cold toward him. There is so precious little of her kindness left anymore, and she spares every ounce of it for her brood. Eight has only ever wanted to touch her where it hurts and only where it hurts. He never seems to marvel at her eyes or the softness of her lips. He likes to trace the outline of her scars, her bruises, and leave her empty when he’s done. He presses closer and she doesn’t step back the way she thought she might have before. His neck is there at her lips and the claws of his magic scratch at the door of her heart, pleading and pining. This might have brought her to her knees when she still carried Prayer, when her child was hardly more than a whisper on her lips. But she has held her newborns close to her and tasted the perfect heart of love. “What have you ever given me to warrant your request? Your blood? Your attention, for a while?” she asks and this time her voice does not falter. “My children are all that I have. They come when I call, and when I tell them I love them, they always say it back. You want me to sacrifice even one of them for you?” Sabbath steps forward then to press the warmth of her chest to his as she lifts her mouth to his ear. She lets him feel the pulse of her fractured hear that goes on and on despite how easily it breaks in two. “In the beginning, you were the sun of my entire universe. Everything revolved around you. But all stars die and I mourned you for as long as I could.” And then she kisses the corner of his jaw with the last embers of her affections for him. may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper. sabbath |