+- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum)
+-- Forum: Live (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=17)
+--- Forum: Pangea (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=89)
+--- Thread: [open] before i'm alone (/showthread.php?tid=30023)
before i'm alone - nazghul - 08-20-2021
The night is dark and silent, without even the moon to illuminate the scene. He slips through her ribs and onto the dew-coated grass as a pair of ragged claws. Slowly, he pulls himself free of her. He is much more gentle than his brothers in the past. The newborn leaves her whole and unscathed from his birth. In fact, the pregnancy must be like a terrible fever dream for her now - a few months of madness and, suddenly, peace.
Nazghul lifts his head and examines the world around him. His long legs are clumsy at first, stumbling through the grasses. There is a hollow, gnawing hunger forming in his belly as he begins to sniff the air for something delectable. Here in Silver Cove, there is precious little misery for him to feed on that he has not already created himself. But then he catches the scent of loss and he crawls toward it. He crawls until the ground becomes dry and red. Each step leaves the barest hint of claw marks in his wake.
Greedily, he snaps his teeth on things unseen - sorrow, rage, and a bit of madness. He devours these lingering emotions until his belly is full and content.
Then, at last, the shadows fade from his skin to reveal the shimmering gold of his little body. The boy gives a little yawn before curling up in the shade of a towering plateau near the effigy of his brother. Nazghul hardly seems to notice the strange carvings, giving it only a fleeting glance before he lowers his head and dozes off.
NazghuL
RE: before i'm alone - Desire - 09-01-2021
Desire
She almost ignores him.
From several paces away she watches him, the small golden boy curled near the carving of the dead once-king. He is lost, clearly, since no one is currently here to birth children besides herself, and he is certainly not hers. Despite being a mother—and a fairly good one at that, because she loved them all immensely—there isn’t much of a maternal instinct to stir at the sight of him. Pity, perhaps, because she is not exactly callused. Self-centered and haughty and utterly spoiled, yes, but she is not quite cruel. She would not do anything on purpose to harm him, and he is much too young to be without a mother.
She almost walks away, thinking of letting the desert decide if he lives or dies, but she is feeling charitable today and so with a sigh she steps closer to him.
“You lost?” she asks him, not unkind, but also not in that high-pitched coddling tone everyone seemed to use with children. By now the glow of her halo and the scattering of stars across her body illuminated the area in their direct vicinity with a dim, silvery light, and she stares down at him with slow-blinking, entirely black eyes, waiting.
From several paces away she watches him, the small golden boy curled near the carving of the dead once-king. He is lost, clearly, since no one is currently here to birth children besides herself, and he is certainly not hers. Despite being a mother—and a fairly good one at that, because she loved them all immensely—there isn’t much of a maternal instinct to stir at the sight of him. Pity, perhaps, because she is not exactly callused. Self-centered and haughty and utterly spoiled, yes, but she is not quite cruel. She would not do anything on purpose to harm him, and he is much too young to be without a mother.
She almost walks away, thinking of letting the desert decide if he lives or dies, but she is feeling charitable today and so with a sigh she steps closer to him.
“You lost?” she asks him, not unkind, but also not in that high-pitched coddling tone everyone seemed to use with children. By now the glow of her halo and the scattering of stars across her body illuminated the area in their direct vicinity with a dim, silvery light, and she stares down at him with slow-blinking, entirely black eyes, waiting.
so we're slaves to any semblance of touch, lord we should quit, but we love it too much
@nazghul
RE: before i'm alone - nazghul - 09-08-2021
He doesn’t know to be afraid of things larger than himself, yet. His world is built entirely upon
only his needs for now: hunger, sleep, warmth. He startles awake when she speaks and he lifts his bright golden eyes to meet her stare. Nazghul stares for a while longer as he tries to decide how to answer her. Words will not be his forté for some time, unfortunately.
“I don’t think so,” he says in a voice that is hardly more than a whisper. Slowly, he stumbles up onto his awkward child-legs and shakes some of the dust from his brilliant coat. Maybe she wants to tell him to get going, that he isn’t welcome here. He turns his head to stare in what he thinks is the direction he came from. A crease forms between his brows as he dwells on the matter a bit longer.
“Should I not be here?” he finally asks, bringing his gaze back to her. There is no shame or caution to his tone when he speaks but rather a mild curiosity. The little bodach searches the deep black color of her eyes as he tries to read her expression. Having so little practice, of course, he finds himself entirely inept at this.
“I’d like to stay.”
NazghuL
RE: before i'm alone - Desire - 09-26-2021
Desire
When he speaks his voice is so soft, and when he stands on those clearly still-new legs there is finally something that tugs inside of her chest. A glimmer of empathy, as she is reminded of what each of her children had looked like at that age, but also a twist of something closer to anger as she wonders who was careless enough to let their newborn wander off. She had been raised by a mother that, for all her flaws, loved her beyond measure, and had instilled in Desire what was likely her only thread of kindness.
A thread that is strong enough to cause her impassive expression to relent into something kinder, and her voice softens when she answers him, “If you want to stay, I will not turn you away.” She studies him again, looking past the fact that he is a lone child stumbling across her borders. There is something different about him, something that she cannot quite place, and she makes no attempt to hide the way that she analyzes him. Her gaze sweeps him up and down, noting the brilliant gleam to his skin, but otherwise she cannot find anything that acts as proof for her theory.
She will have him stay, just in case whatever secret he is harboring is interesting, and perhaps useful.
“My name is Desire,” she tells him once her eyes have drifted back to his face, the introduction spoken with a slight smile. “Don’t you think your mother might be looking for you?”
A thread that is strong enough to cause her impassive expression to relent into something kinder, and her voice softens when she answers him, “If you want to stay, I will not turn you away.” She studies him again, looking past the fact that he is a lone child stumbling across her borders. There is something different about him, something that she cannot quite place, and she makes no attempt to hide the way that she analyzes him. Her gaze sweeps him up and down, noting the brilliant gleam to his skin, but otherwise she cannot find anything that acts as proof for her theory.
She will have him stay, just in case whatever secret he is harboring is interesting, and perhaps useful.
“My name is Desire,” she tells him once her eyes have drifted back to his face, the introduction spoken with a slight smile. “Don’t you think your mother might be looking for you?”
so we're slaves to any semblance of touch, lord we should quit, but we love it too much
@nazghul