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+---- Thread: [private] we were on one endless road (/showthread.php?tid=31125)
we were on one endless road - Israfel - 03-22-2023
ISRAFEL
Israfel leaves the safety of the forest one dawn. It had been so effortless to slip back into old habits, to become invisible while the world was rolling through strange levels of chaos. She doesn’t understand any of it beyond the disappearance of the home she had made. It distressed her for so long, that absence - Nerine and Reave both at once - but the ache of that has healed now. She misses them but she is no longer wandering in search of either.
And for the first time in a while, she feels what might be hope in the potential for a new beginning. There is something about this spring that feels different from the others and it gives her courage to step into the light where she becomes visible once again. The sky above the meadow and clear and blue, so Israfel must blink her golden eyes against the brightness. There are flowers growing amongst the long grass and they draw her attention more so than the other horses moving or standing around.
Or perhaps it is just easier to focus on those blooms first. She did just work up enough courage to actually emerge, walking up to someone else and attempting to strike up a conversation on top of that just seems like being overly ambitious. Better to wander slowly, her attention downwards, and literally just go one step at a time. A soft smile appears on her face as she pauses near a patch of flowers that are soft purple.
And for the first time in a while, she feels what might be hope in the potential for a new beginning. There is something about this spring that feels different from the others and it gives her courage to step into the light where she becomes visible once again. The sky above the meadow and clear and blue, so Israfel must blink her golden eyes against the brightness. There are flowers growing amongst the long grass and they draw her attention more so than the other horses moving or standing around.
Or perhaps it is just easier to focus on those blooms first. She did just work up enough courage to actually emerge, walking up to someone else and attempting to strike up a conversation on top of that just seems like being overly ambitious. Better to wander slowly, her attention downwards, and literally just go one step at a time. A soft smile appears on her face as she pauses near a patch of flowers that are soft purple.
@savage
RE: we were on one endless road - hadrien - 03-23-2023
There had been a world before this one.
He thinks that certainly there will be a world after it, too.
He knows nothing but change, this constant metamorphosis, seas rising and skies splitting open. There had been absolute darkness once, too. Creatures have emerged from each of them: the risen sea, the cleaved sky, the terrible darkness. And he has watched it change, unmoved.
There has been some other cosmic shift, he can feel it, but it is as inconsequential to him as the rest have been. He is a constant, Hadrien. Not an immovable force, no, but a thing seemingly immune to the way things have changed.
He has found the forest to be the most comfortable place to loiter, but he has chosen instead to roam today. Spring is in full-swing, he can tell it in the way the meadow blooms. However, it is not the flowers that catch his attention but a glint of gold in the sunlight. He has seen many unfamiliar things, but this is perhaps the most compelling and it beckons him further from the edge of the forest.
How blinding the light that surrounds her.
He stops, head tilted.
He sees then that she is smiling and he hesitates.
(He is no joy-thief, Hadrien, he does not want to disturb her.
But then, isn’t it too late?)
“Sorry,” he says, not a greeting at all. “You just—”
But he cannot finish his thought, if there had even been one at all.
He thinks that certainly there will be a world after it, too.
He knows nothing but change, this constant metamorphosis, seas rising and skies splitting open. There had been absolute darkness once, too. Creatures have emerged from each of them: the risen sea, the cleaved sky, the terrible darkness. And he has watched it change, unmoved.
There has been some other cosmic shift, he can feel it, but it is as inconsequential to him as the rest have been. He is a constant, Hadrien. Not an immovable force, no, but a thing seemingly immune to the way things have changed.
He has found the forest to be the most comfortable place to loiter, but he has chosen instead to roam today. Spring is in full-swing, he can tell it in the way the meadow blooms. However, it is not the flowers that catch his attention but a glint of gold in the sunlight. He has seen many unfamiliar things, but this is perhaps the most compelling and it beckons him further from the edge of the forest.
How blinding the light that surrounds her.
He stops, head tilted.
He sees then that she is smiling and he hesitates.
(He is no joy-thief, Hadrien, he does not want to disturb her.
But then, isn’t it too late?)
“Sorry,” he says, not a greeting at all. “You just—”
But he cannot finish his thought, if there had even been one at all.
— hadrien
RE: we were on one endless road - Israfel - 03-26-2023
ISRAFEL
Someone else approaches, and there is still a smile on her golden face when she turns to look at him - thinking first that he too had come over to admire the flowers, because they are so fore-front in her mind she assumes they must be in everyone else’s. When he apologies, and then leaves a thought half-finished, Israfel’s peaceful bliss crumbles into confusion and something that dances along the line of worry and fear.
Her instinct is to apologize back to him, though for what she isn’t sure. She glances around herself, as though to try to find a clue about what she had done wrong, but she finds nothing. They are out in the open so she cannot possibly be in his way, and it doesn’t look as though she has trampled on anything more important than a few blades of grass.
So she looks back up at him, lost and a little wide-eyed, offering a quiet “I didn’t mean to.” Which would hopefully cover whatever grievance she might have accidentally caused.
Israfel is familiar with the feeling she is experiencing now, like the ground may slide out from underneath her gilded hooves at any given second. She’d come out here in the open for a purpose, and despite the uncertainty of this beginning, she doesn’t want this stranger to leave and force her to start all over again.
In an attempt to find her footing again, she changes the subject back to where her thoughts had been originally - gesturing to the blossoms between them. “They are pretty, aren’t they?”
Her instinct is to apologize back to him, though for what she isn’t sure. She glances around herself, as though to try to find a clue about what she had done wrong, but she finds nothing. They are out in the open so she cannot possibly be in his way, and it doesn’t look as though she has trampled on anything more important than a few blades of grass.
So she looks back up at him, lost and a little wide-eyed, offering a quiet “I didn’t mean to.” Which would hopefully cover whatever grievance she might have accidentally caused.
Israfel is familiar with the feeling she is experiencing now, like the ground may slide out from underneath her gilded hooves at any given second. She’d come out here in the open for a purpose, and despite the uncertainty of this beginning, she doesn’t want this stranger to leave and force her to start all over again.
In an attempt to find her footing again, she changes the subject back to where her thoughts had been originally - gesturing to the blossoms between them. “They are pretty, aren’t they?”
RE: we were on one endless road - hadrien - 04-01-2023
Her smile splinters, dissolving fast around the edges of something considerably darker. (Is that fear he sees? A kind of doe-eyed uncertainty?) His heart constricts, but he does not know how to soothe her. He does not know how to fix this thing he has broken. So, for the space of a breath, the two of them merely stand there reflecting their frowns back at each other.
And then, so softly it’s barely there at all, she offers up a sort of apology all her own and he shakes his head. “No,” he says and then pauses to swallow thickly, painfully. (Has he always been so awkward? At least, in his youth, he had been confident in his awkwardness.
Now, though, now he grapples with his own uncertainty.
Although, he thinks, it is almost certainly compounded by the beauty of the thing looking back at him.)
“You didn’t,” he continues, fumbling for anything that might reassure her, “you didn’t do anything.”
Nothing, he thinks, other than exist. He’s never seen such a glorious thing.
She shifts her focus back to the flowers but he cannot force his attention away from her. Still, he nods. He nods and he says, “they’re beautiful.”
He draws in a breath, takes one shy step closer to her, and asks, “what’s your name?”
And then, so softly it’s barely there at all, she offers up a sort of apology all her own and he shakes his head. “No,” he says and then pauses to swallow thickly, painfully. (Has he always been so awkward? At least, in his youth, he had been confident in his awkwardness.
Now, though, now he grapples with his own uncertainty.
Although, he thinks, it is almost certainly compounded by the beauty of the thing looking back at him.)
“You didn’t,” he continues, fumbling for anything that might reassure her, “you didn’t do anything.”
Nothing, he thinks, other than exist. He’s never seen such a glorious thing.
She shifts her focus back to the flowers but he cannot force his attention away from her. Still, he nods. He nods and he says, “they’re beautiful.”
He draws in a breath, takes one shy step closer to her, and asks, “what’s your name?”
— hadrien
RE: we were on one endless road - Israfel - 04-07-2023
ISRAFEL
Israfel's confusion only deepens, but she has not yet learned how to voice concerns or how to even pick apart her own thoughts to discover what she might want. She does not believe him, that she had done nothing - but at the same time who is she to argue? The feeling of unease inside of her does not seem like a strong enough reason to speak up. She spent too long being invisible and it is so hard to break those habits that run deep, and it is so easy to believe simply existing where her gilded form can be perceived is an illicit activity she can get in trouble for.
But he agrees about the flowers, and asks her her name, so perhaps for the moment she is being granted some grace on her crimes.
He even steps closer, and she has to fight against the urge to take a step back. This is good she reminds herself. She is naturally curious, and she does not need to squash that part of her.
The world will not end because someone is being nice to her. She does not have to run back to the safety of the shadows and the way they shield her from living her life.
“I’m Israfel.” When she speaks she is still looking down at the flowers at first. In tandem with the fight against moving away is the encouragement she is shouting at herself in her mind to try. So her golden eyes move back to his face, and she asks simply “And you?” Just two little words - but it is a start.
But he agrees about the flowers, and asks her her name, so perhaps for the moment she is being granted some grace on her crimes.
He even steps closer, and she has to fight against the urge to take a step back. This is good she reminds herself. She is naturally curious, and she does not need to squash that part of her.
The world will not end because someone is being nice to her. She does not have to run back to the safety of the shadows and the way they shield her from living her life.
“I’m Israfel.” When she speaks she is still looking down at the flowers at first. In tandem with the fight against moving away is the encouragement she is shouting at herself in her mind to try. So her golden eyes move back to his face, and she asks simply “And you?” Just two little words - but it is a start.
RE: we were on one endless road - hadrien - 04-09-2023
Is he holding his breath?
He exhales long and slow and shackles his focus more firmly to the flowers.
(Perhaps the weight of his gaze is unnerving. He guesses it in the way she doesn’t look back at him, studying the earth underfoot instead. The way she addresses the flowers when she says her name.)
This is the one gift he can give her: to bend the light to better illuminate the flowers she studies, so that she might see them more clearly, so that they might shine more brightly. (And perhaps the light falls soft on the gleaming surface of her, too. Perhaps he is a selfish thing, too, Hadrien.)
Israfel.
He files it away. He’ll keep it someplace safe. He’ll remember.
He’ll remember, though there are so many things that he's forgotten.
“Israfel,” he echoes, faint, like a secret. He chances a glance at her face when she asks him his name in turn. He smiles, just barely. “My name is Hadrien.”
The light burns a little brighter and he thinks he can see the flowers turning their faces to it. “I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter still, “I’ve just never seen anything like you before.”
He dissects the light then, lets it soften and then go out completely. (Still, the sun shines on and maybe it hadn’t even been possible to tell that he’d manipulated that beam at all.) He glances at her sidelong, acutely aware now of the intensity of his gaze.
He exhales long and slow and shackles his focus more firmly to the flowers.
(Perhaps the weight of his gaze is unnerving. He guesses it in the way she doesn’t look back at him, studying the earth underfoot instead. The way she addresses the flowers when she says her name.)
This is the one gift he can give her: to bend the light to better illuminate the flowers she studies, so that she might see them more clearly, so that they might shine more brightly. (And perhaps the light falls soft on the gleaming surface of her, too. Perhaps he is a selfish thing, too, Hadrien.)
Israfel.
He files it away. He’ll keep it someplace safe. He’ll remember.
He’ll remember, though there are so many things that he's forgotten.
“Israfel,” he echoes, faint, like a secret. He chances a glance at her face when she asks him his name in turn. He smiles, just barely. “My name is Hadrien.”
The light burns a little brighter and he thinks he can see the flowers turning their faces to it. “I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter still, “I’ve just never seen anything like you before.”
He dissects the light then, lets it soften and then go out completely. (Still, the sun shines on and maybe it hadn’t even been possible to tell that he’d manipulated that beam at all.) He glances at her sidelong, acutely aware now of the intensity of his gaze.
— hadrien
@Israfel
RE: we were on one endless road - Israfel - 04-21-2023
ISRAFEL
Israfel doesn’t miss the way the light seems to brighten upon the flowers, how she thinks she can feel it a little more warmer upon her metallic coat. Is it him, or is it just her imagination? At just the thought of the ability to manipulate sunlight existing, she feels a flush of jealousy - how can she just possess the power to destroy when other, beautiful abilities exist?
She thinks of the bird she had disintegrated in Nerine, and how the blood would look splattered upon these flowers.
Sometimes she thinks she can still feel it upon her flesh, tiny particles of it clinging to her.
Hadrien he introduces himself and the light brightens - but it’s his apology and then the fading of the light that finally grabs her attention enough to drag her out of her thoughts, even half-way. “Good, I wouldn’t wish what I am on anyone.” Israfel is surprised by this speech as soon as it is out of her. It’s the coldest her soft voice has ever been, though even then it is still on the grand scheme of things quite gentle. Even if that is what is fluttering around her mind, she hadn’t thought that she felt it so strongly to speak it. Not strong enough to meet his intense gaze - her golden eyes flashing to his face just once before she focuses back on the flowers.
She could go back to the forest, where she could disappear. She is not sure she likes how he looks at her, but it is clashing with her desire to be perceived at all. Maybe this is simply just what she attracts - she thinks she’s been down this path before.
The curiosity that had first driven her out of the forest as a youth is gone now, or buried, and she doesn’t feel the same questions bubbling up to carry the conversation.
Is it a conversation, if she doesn’t look at him?
She decides to speak again, to try to pull apart whether she wants to keep Hadrien who can weave sunlight close or to run away. And she just says the truth. “It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to anyone.” As if that can explain why she focuses so much on the flowers - who are a safe conversation, since they never respond in ways she can't predict.
She thinks of the bird she had disintegrated in Nerine, and how the blood would look splattered upon these flowers.
Sometimes she thinks she can still feel it upon her flesh, tiny particles of it clinging to her.
Hadrien he introduces himself and the light brightens - but it’s his apology and then the fading of the light that finally grabs her attention enough to drag her out of her thoughts, even half-way. “Good, I wouldn’t wish what I am on anyone.” Israfel is surprised by this speech as soon as it is out of her. It’s the coldest her soft voice has ever been, though even then it is still on the grand scheme of things quite gentle. Even if that is what is fluttering around her mind, she hadn’t thought that she felt it so strongly to speak it. Not strong enough to meet his intense gaze - her golden eyes flashing to his face just once before she focuses back on the flowers.
She could go back to the forest, where she could disappear. She is not sure she likes how he looks at her, but it is clashing with her desire to be perceived at all. Maybe this is simply just what she attracts - she thinks she’s been down this path before.
The curiosity that had first driven her out of the forest as a youth is gone now, or buried, and she doesn’t feel the same questions bubbling up to carry the conversation.
Is it a conversation, if she doesn’t look at him?
She decides to speak again, to try to pull apart whether she wants to keep Hadrien who can weave sunlight close or to run away. And she just says the truth. “It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to anyone.” As if that can explain why she focuses so much on the flowers - who are a safe conversation, since they never respond in ways she can't predict.
RE: we were on one endless road - hadrien - 05-06-2023
It is not a mere sting.
No, it is an arrow that buries itself in the meat of his heart to hear her say that she wouldn’t wish what she is on anyone. His pulse quickens and he swallows thickly, consumed suddenly by a heady kind of guilt.
(He should not have drawn attention to her brilliance. He should not have mentioned it at all, should not have let his wonder pass so plainly across his face.)
He, too, looks away.
And he considers it a long while, ruminates, lets the notion of it expand until it has filled him all the way up. She wouldn’t wish what she is on anyone and he wonders what about something so beautiful could be so impossible to live with. Is there some hidden darkness in her? Some evil thing lurking just beneath the surface? But how could there be with the way she cannot seem to meet his eye? How could there be when she acknowledges it so plainly. Surely, if she were as bad as she seems to think, she would not say so.
The silence stretches thin between them, each of them staring intently at those flowers. He does not know what to say. He was not born a fixer. Not even born a helper, but he feels some overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, to find some way to convince her that whatever it is she feels is so awful cannot possibly be that bad.
Her confession draws his attention back to her face and he studies her a beat before smiling, awash with something that might be relief. “That’s okay,” he says, though it hadn’t necessarily been an apology. “It’s been a long time for me, too.” He had spent so much time searching for his sister in the darkness. (Still, he has not found her, but he has more or less abandoned the effort.)
“I can go,” he tells her, “if that would be easier.” He pauses then. “But I’d like to stay.”
No, it is an arrow that buries itself in the meat of his heart to hear her say that she wouldn’t wish what she is on anyone. His pulse quickens and he swallows thickly, consumed suddenly by a heady kind of guilt.
(He should not have drawn attention to her brilliance. He should not have mentioned it at all, should not have let his wonder pass so plainly across his face.)
He, too, looks away.
And he considers it a long while, ruminates, lets the notion of it expand until it has filled him all the way up. She wouldn’t wish what she is on anyone and he wonders what about something so beautiful could be so impossible to live with. Is there some hidden darkness in her? Some evil thing lurking just beneath the surface? But how could there be with the way she cannot seem to meet his eye? How could there be when she acknowledges it so plainly. Surely, if she were as bad as she seems to think, she would not say so.
The silence stretches thin between them, each of them staring intently at those flowers. He does not know what to say. He was not born a fixer. Not even born a helper, but he feels some overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her, to find some way to convince her that whatever it is she feels is so awful cannot possibly be that bad.
Her confession draws his attention back to her face and he studies her a beat before smiling, awash with something that might be relief. “That’s okay,” he says, though it hadn’t necessarily been an apology. “It’s been a long time for me, too.” He had spent so much time searching for his sister in the darkness. (Still, he has not found her, but he has more or less abandoned the effort.)
“I can go,” he tells her, “if that would be easier.” He pauses then. “But I’d like to stay.”
— hadrien
@Israfel