[private] Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - 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: Brilliant Pampas (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=103) +----- Thread: [private] Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints (/showthread.php?tid=29854) |
Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Obscene - 06-29-2021 I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
There is plotting in the South, the rise of something terrible in the East, and the North and West seem to be holding their breath for what’s to come next. Tension begins to stir in the currents of the wind but the sun still rises and birds still sing and seasons pass as the earth revolves without a thought for any of them. It cares little for their schemes and hunger for power, little for their greed or even those that live a humble life on its back. It just exists and spins and remembers how often it’s seen all these things play out before. And how it will still be here long after those stories are played out and then forgotten only to play out the same story again and again and again. The autumn chill is turning into something more frigid and he can sense the coming of snow in the air. The wildflowers have slowly started to wilt (stubborn as he is) in the face of Old Man Winter and although the stream still bubbles with life, he expects to find it frosted within the week. For now he stands amongst the remaining blooms, wandering aimlessly amongst his kingdom. For once he is alone by choice. Aela had returned for good and he can’t help but shake the little “lesson” she had given him and what that might mean come spring. There’s a nagging feeling that he can’t shake but he does his best to ignore the little pull of worry that he might have made a very big mistake. He has no idea how to be a father and the little experience he has had with his own only leaves a sour aftertaste. Surely there was nothing to worry about though. He doesn’t even think of the mare whose name he has forgotten and whatever indiscretions had happened with Revelrie would surely not come to bite him in the ass. It had only been once after all. It’s easier to forget about all that and chew over the bigger problems he faced. Like how every time he runs into Cheri he still wants to wipe that haughty grin from her mouth, preferably by using his own lips against her. Or how he can’t control this serpent inside him. Or perhaps even more problematic, the way he’s fallen for Aela. He knows that he is just a means to an end, that was how this had started for both of them. She needed his title and protection as much as he needed her power. It was beneficial to both of them, in the beginning. And now… Now he’s not sure what lays behind her oceanic eyes when she looks at him just as much as he is unsure of what stirs in the cold recesses of his chest when she speaks of the ideas she has for them. Her ruthlessness can leave him breathless at times and he’s never met anyone whose been able to keep up with his sharp quips so well. There’s just one little thing that stands in the way and that is the difference in their ambition. She has mighty plans and he can see the worth in them but he has never been one that hungered for blood (with the exception of whatever the snake inside him feels) or war or meaningless destruction. He was a trickster and a prankster and he liked to see the smile crumble off another’s face with a well placed cutting word. He feels himself growing into his title and he finds that a crown fits him well. It doesn’t feel like a burden at all and he enjoys the pleasures that come with it, enough that maybe he can see that Aela has a point… That he could be more than a Prince. But he has no desire to see the world burn like she does. There is nothing that he would change in the golden striped mare. She is who she is and he accepts her for it. But can she accept him for who he truly is beneath his dark exterior? Someone who wasn’t perhaps as cruel as he came off to be? He ponders these paradoxes in his mind as he wanders his home and is lost in these thoughts when he comes across a stranger. The unknown stallion smells of Pangea, of Aela’s old homeland, and it brings him into focus as his red gaze narrows with interest and a sudden surge of jealous protectiveness. For his scent is vaguely familiar, one he had caught off Aela’s skin when she had finally returned home for good. “What do you want outsider?” His expression is unreadable except for the sneer he throws out for good measure at Skandar, waiting for the answer that he had just demanded. obscene @Skandar Here's a rambling starter for you <3 RE: Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Skandar - 06-30-2021 skandar @Obscene RE: Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Obscene - 06-30-2021 I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Galaxies weave stories along the entire canvas that is Skandar and he can’t help but see exactly what Aela can see within those webs of nebula and starry patterns. There is a clear picture in his mind of how those scents of the swirl patterned stallion had ended up on the golden plains of Aela’s coat. A deep seething jealousy bleeds out from that fiery wrathful thing that lives deep within his core as it awakens and starts to slither to the surface. The stallion speaks of opportunity and he allows himself to release a little of that angry energy into his laugh, expelling some of that tension that squeezes something hollow in his chest. “An opportunity.” He repeats, tilting his head and considering him. “And who benefits from this opportunity, you or me?” He can still feel that sinewy movement tightening around his ribcage, squeezing at his insides and searching for release. But his expression remains as unreadable as ever as his crimson gaze darkens with disdain. “Why you, I wonder…” He muses aloud, not caring at all if the other hears him and becomes insulted. He hopes he does, hopes to bait him for the truth that lays beneath his lies. “What is it that she sees in you?” This is not another brother he thinks, no this is someone.., something else. Something he has reason to be envious of just as much as he is in awe from it. The cool winds of fall send a cold breeze through the long strands of his raven mane, littered with thistles and other wildflowers that have been caught in their wild tangles. He rolls a gold lined shoulder to ease the ache of tension he feels broiling inside. He knows that for the sake of this kingdom, they need power and bodies. And there was an opportunity here, he wasn’t that blind to see it. He exhales slowly, easing his temper into a colder place. One that didn’t feel quite so much. “What can you do for us then? Why would I need you?” He sneers and waits to see if he might find a reason to lie to himself and believe that there was nothing to worry about concerning a stallion of the galaxies that could make the world burn in the blink of an eye. Exactly what she had always desired and what he might not be able to give her. obscene @Skandar RE: Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Skandar - 07-03-2021 skandar @Obscene RE: Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Obscene - 07-05-2021 I can see through you, see your true colors Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
The answer is one that he expects and his nostrils flare slightly as he snorts in feigned indifference. The reaction that shortly follows as he muses aloud is not. As the star scattered stallion’s ears fall back, so do his own. They flatten into the wavy tendrils of his raven mane, his red eyes flashing as Skandar champs at the air, but does not flinch from the display before him. He sneers even harder as the other throws his head, as orange turns to red, as he sees the beauty in the chaos of the man before him. “Keep wondering”. An ugly thing begins to crawl around with the snake, seeping into its scales that begin to break through the black of his fur. No, he doesn’t need to wonder. He has his answer right here, in the tightness of Skandar’s jaw, in the glowing hum of his vibrant red eyes, the scowl that finds his violet lips, the way he suppresses his temper as red fades back to burnt orange. He recognizes those little pieces of himself in him. He sees so much more. He hisses softly, his own ire flickering in the depths of wine red as his fur begins to fall away beneath the spread of scales, ignorant as always to the way his emotions seem so tightly wound into the creature within him. Jealousy flares his temper and he wonders what Aela had hoped to accomplish here. This wasn’t just another “beautiful and powerful” to add to the ranks. There was something more to this stallion, something he can feel in his gut. Something he can read in that scowl, similar to the one he returns. When Skandar’s skin starts to fold in on itself, clicking and snapping into place with something new, his own body twitches involuntarily in response. It isn’t a pleasant experience to watch himself rise from beneath the twisted and mutilated layers of Skandar’s flesh as it forms into a perfect replica of himself. Right down to the violent look that he knows reflects in his own eyes. How he wants to be angry at this display, how he should be offended. But he can’t. His violent look fades as the Fae in him momentarily forgets their silent vendetta and he meets the smirk on his doppelgängers lips, matches it with that smug one of his own. “Ah. I understand now.” He says quietly, his expression unreadable as the scales fade back and the flames of his anger flickers, uncertain. Skandar might take that as simply a response to his question of worth but it went much deeper than that, one tied into their complex relationship with Aela. He has gotten so good at hiding his emotions behind that mask of indifference he gives now and he is glad for it as a range of emotions begin to swirl within. He flips through each one carelessly, fingers ripping through worn pages. The delight of one trickster recognizing another. The jealousy of knowing that Skandar was different, that gut feeling lingering. The anger of not being able to compete with the likes of someone like the mimic before him. The curiosity of wanting to know him better himself. And then he finally lands on a similar realization, a similar choice, as the one Skandar had already made awhile ago. That this was another pawn and they perhaps weren’t so different after all. It’s this that he settles himself with, not unlike the cruel armor he had put together for himself so long ago. It’s easier to live in a lie and he makes a decision to do so, turning a blind eye to what he knows is truth, as his smirk turns into something rather charming. As he decides to keep this one close. “I would have the name of my Champion.” He asks in a way that’s clear it’s not open for discussion. obscene @Skandar RE: Love doesn't discriminate between sinners & the saints - Skandar - 08-28-2021 skandar @Obscene |