"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
10-01-2018, 04:49 PM (This post was last modified: 10-01-2018, 04:49 PM by Ophanim.)
In my dark times, I'll be going back to these streets, promising everything I do not mean. In my dark times, baby, this is all I could be
Every parent only wants to give their child the world. Jenova has tried to do just that, telling her son how perfect he is and showing him that nothing is worthy of his concern in this life. And to her that is the simple truth of the matter, that love and hate and all the other messes of emotions are such a waste of time that he simply shouldn’t bother. It doesn’t mean he should be cruel, obviously, but she’s shaped him into a rather aloof and uninterested boy. Even now in the playground he simply watches the other children with his chin held high.
None of them stand out so much that he feels the desire to approach.
Ophanim flexes his wings and enjoys the way they soak up the warmth of the sun as the hundred golden eyes glimmer in their own glow. Around his neck, the halo tattoo shines as equally as the lines like tears running from his eyes. He’s only just begun to fill out but the curves of muscle beneath his red and white skin look promising. At least he’s already got the handsome angles of his face to match the personality he’s developing.
He steps further into the playground and idly kicks at the larger rocks he spots laying on the ground. Jenova had told him to try and make friends but she never mentioned how, exactly, to do that. When he met his father, she had done all the work for him. All he had to do was stand there and look presentable – shoulders back, head high, and without trembling. He was good at the not trembling bit but to not slouch? Impossible.
He kicks the rock a little further and slowly trails along after it without paying the children around him any mind.
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
Starsin had all of Beqanna at her figurative fingertips.
Most children had a mother telling them where to go or where to stay, but not her. Starlust has always done the bare minimum to raise her children, essentially just enough to keep them alive, and only because they were beautiful. Starsin was no different. From the moment she had stood, she had been more or less on her own. If she was hungry, she had to actually find her mother. But the stark white mare was like a ghost — disappearing the moment she diverted her attention. She didn’t mind. It meant she had no strings, and she could travel wherever and whenever she saw fit.
The playground was the last place she thought she would go. Her interest in other children was non-existent, to the point that not even reading their minds could amuse her. Their thoughts were all terribly similar, and disgustingly dull. The adults that lingered in the common lands weren’t much better, but at least a majority of them had already withstood so much trauma that she could sift through their memories and read them like a semi-interesting book.
On this bright summer day, however, the onyx colored filly finds herself walking the path that lead to the playground. Through the trees that dotted the landscape she can hear their high pitched laughter, and already she bristles in annoyance. Her small ears tilt part way backwards, inwardly rolling her eyes at how ridiculous they all sounded. She was just about to turn around when a roan colt catches her eye, and her dark blue eyes narrow to study him. The sun glints off his golden markings, and a pair of magnificent wings sat perched upon his back. He was already handsome, and his apparent disinterest in what was happening around was all she needed to see.
With her interest mildly piqued, she makes her move; her gait not as awkward as most her age, and the sashay in her stride did not match her still too young body. She sighs a dramatic sigh once she is close enough, watching the rock he kicked go tumbling across the ground. ”I think they’re boring too,” And she gestures to the playing children as she says it, offering the colt a too sweet smile. ”I’m Starsin. Sorry if I interrupted this enthralling game of Kick the Rock you’ve got going on.”
In my dark times, I'll be going back to these streets, promising everything I do not mean. In my dark times, baby, this is all I could be
Ophanim thinks he wants the kind of freedom that Starsin has and he dreams of wandering as he pleases, without a mother to scold or control him. But at least she builds him up to the sort of boy he’s already becoming – confident, with a kind of gravitas to his eyes despite his young age. These eyes initially give her a sort of bored, unamused stare when she approaches. Something like offense fills him until she speaks and hushes the dismissal blooming on his tongue. She doesn’t quite have her nose in the air but her body language says everything her mouth doesn’t.
He doesn’t curl around her finger quite so easily, though he considers it.
His wings spread open and the golden eyes stare, an unblinking mass as the boy gives her a slight nod of his handsome head. “My name is Ophanim. Want to be my girlfriend?” he asks with a tilt of his head. The new angle makes his cheeks glimmer in the summer sun as they do in the dark. He’s direct because he believes he deserves a girl like her, another child who believes themselves above the laity already.
And then he’s stepping closer to her with a mischievous gleam to his golden-hazel eyes. A thought occurs to him and he wants to test the waters with her, see how long she lasts with each of his wild ideas. “Let’s stay out all night and see if any ghosts come up. If you get scared you can stay close to me.” His smile is devilish as he baits her. Will she drop the façade of sweetness on her perfect face or will she retain that grace she carries so easy? He can’t help it, a muffled laugh bubbles up his throat as he toys with her.
And why shouldn’t he? His mother only shakes her head and laughs when he crosses the line or misbehaves. A feral woman like her could never raise civilized boy so it’s only to be expected that he grows up a prince of the wild.
lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me, do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
She is drawn to his skin, where it shimmers like golden sand in places. He is heavenly, with his halo that encircles his neck, and his celestial wings that spread from his back. She is dark alongside him, still coal black with cobalt eyes, and so far hardly a hint that she would one day gray. She is nothing remarkable on the outside, other than being beautiful, even at such a young age; but inside, she is calculating, she is watchful, she can hear his thoughts and plan her actions accordingly. He radiates a quiet confidence, perhaps with a little bit of arrogance, and she is similar; she is a pretty little thing, and even if she knows it, she tries not to show it.
His words bring a demure laugh, and she turns into a lamb, shy and sweet, peering up at him from beneath long, black eyelashes. ”Your girlfriend?” She coos, a look of false surprise on her childish face. ”But my darling, we only just met.” Her satin-smooth skin is pressed against his, her lips finding the angle of his shoulder, and her touch is feather light until, for just a second, her teeth graze against him before she swiftly pulls away. She laughs, her hips swinging like tall grass in the breeze before she twirls around to face him again. He is toying with her, but he is playing her favorite game, and she will play whatever part he wants her to.
”There is more to fear in the night than just ghosts, my Ophanim.” her voice has lowered to a murmur, her night-sky eyes settling with his, her small brow furrowing just slightly. ”My mother leaves me to spend every night alone.” A melancholy sigh drifts from her lips, but they soon lift into a smile when she looks at her new angel-boy, slipping closer to him once more as she inquires softly, ”You could protect me from anything in the night, couldn’t you?” Her eyes flicker back and forth across his face, and somewhere within her sweet smile there hides a Cheshire Cat grin. She has so many roles she could play, but which does he want?
10-21-2018, 11:43 PM (This post was last modified: 10-26-2018, 10:13 AM by Ophanim.)
In my dark times, I'll be going back to these streets, promising everything I do not mean. In my dark times, baby, this is all I could be
She’s warm against his skin and he closes his eyes for a moment. He’s too young for lust so instead he dreams of napping beside her in the summer sun, dreaming of their future. The days will all be golden and saturated with happiness. But then she’s speaking and he opens his eyes once more as he listens to her objections to his request. Wow, okay. Rude. Starsin’s lips are on his shoulder though and it dispels the annoyance that had momentarily flickered in him.
He follows when she dances out of reach and, to his surprise, laughter flows from his lips when she twirls to face him. Their eyes meet when she warns him of the things going bump in the night. His are wide with wonder as he hangs on her every word, drifting obediently with each syllable as it falls from her lips. But how could her mother leave her alone at night? Jenova kept him curled close to her when the sun set and distracted him from any fears that might arise in the dark. Who kept her safe, then?
She asks him to fill this void and his chest puffs up once more. Of course he could. All his imaginary foes would tremble before him, he’s certain. The gold and white of his wings spread once more in a display of his might.
“I’ll protect you from everything, day or night. Rain or shine,” he declares with a proud grin. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”
Ophanim figures if he’s persistent then she will resign herself to his wants. Before she can object once more, he turns to press himself against her and folds a wing around her small torso. He hasn’t quite learned how to make his smile more sincere but there is a childish sort of charm to his expression all the same. The angel boy bumps her cheek softly with his nose. In truth, he’s too shy to steal a kiss from her just yet, but he’s more than happy to simply sneak these simple affections.
“You can spend every night with me if you want. I know I wouldn’t like to be alone.”
For a moment, his smile is more genuine than before. The heart of their friendship begins to bloom as he feels some honest concern for her now.
10-23-2018, 01:13 AM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2018, 01:14 AM by Starsin.)
do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
He seems taken aback that she doesn’t immediately accept his proposal, and she has to hide a smile. He really had no idea what he was in for when he asked Starsin to be his girlfriend. She is not soft and mild like those other girls; the girls he would probably end up preferring, because of how easily they would fall in love with his handsome face and charming smile. They would cradle against his side and do anything to please him, always loyal and always there. But she, she is more spice than sugar, and instead of dreaming up ways to make him happy, she would rather spend her time driving him insane. Push him to he edge, and then pull him back in, like the waves and the shore.
She watches as he drinks in her words, can see in his mind how he tries to wrap his head around the idea that some mothers don’t care about their children. Starlust was likely not the worst mother out there, but she wasn’t the greatest. The little black filly didn’t care. She didnt know any different. In fact, when he drapes a wing and pulls her into him, it is arguably the most affection she’s ever received, and for a moment she stiffens against it. Her petite muscles go rigid, the lines of her face tensing. He has managed to catch her off guard, and for a moment she debates yanking herself away. But the feel of his soft muzzle against her cheek somehow settles her, and she tilts her head to look at him once more, and gradually, she lets herself relax into him. Her dark blue eyes are perplexed, but she catches herself, quickly returning back to her nonchalant self, as she says with feigned disinterest, ”I mean I suppose I could spend some nights with you. But I’m not afraid of the dark, you know. I’ve survived this long.”
She would never tell him that the idea of having a warm body to sleep against sounded lovely; nor would she tell him that she actually hardly slept, because how can you, when you’re by yourself?
Gathering herself back together, but still remaining curled beneath his wing, she offers him a demure smile, her lips mindlessly trailing over the mark of his halo around his neck, ”So if protecting me and keeping me warm at night is how you’re a good boyfriend,” Her voice is again honey-sweet, as she now reaches to play with the short mane that curls at his neck, ”what do I have to do to be a good girlfriend?”
In my dark times, I'll be going back to these streets, promising everything I do not mean. In my dark times, baby, this is all I could be
When she regards him with a sort of confusion, he worries that he’s made a mistake in cradling her to his side. He briefly considers stepping away and allowing the space between them to grow miles wide in just a few inches. But then she settles in and permits him some happiness by offering him a few nights with her. Her acceptance is a cold cloth to his fevered head, soothing his fragile ego even as she explains that she is never fearful of the night. And he believes her. Starsin seems to possess a quiet strength within her that he envies like a magpie eye, aspires to cultivate for himself.
He lifts his head to offer more of his throat to her as they huddle together like kittens learning to groom and preen one another affectionately. His eyes drift closed while he listens to her question and he realizes he has no clue what a girlfriend is supposed to do except be protected. Ophanim gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, briefly shifting his wing across her back before it settles again. In truth, she could continue to do exactly as she does now and he, in turn, would continue to trust her with his world in the palm of her hand. But maybe she’d like something to do? He becomes nervous that he may get the question wrong.
Obediently, he lowers his chin when her lips roam to the baby-fluff of his mane to offer it up to her.
“You can do whatever you want. I’m not the boss of you,” he finally says after considering what he might like her to do. The idea of controlling her disinterested him. He wanted to leave her wild as she is now so that the future was entirely unpredictable. The thrilling danger of some untamed woman drew him in closer to her until he rested his head beneath her chin.
“Just be there for me whenever I’m sad. That’s all I really want.”
And it’s the truth, really. Jenova never seemed acquainted with sorrow or tears and so she never knew quite how to comfort her son when he became upset. Nothing ever seemed to bother her and it frustrated him that his mother couldn’t understand why it angered him to have to share his father with his siblings. He traveled all the way to Nerine just to ask Leilan to spend the day with him and found his father busy with the multitude of offspring he had helped create. There no time for him there.
But he doesn’t have to share Starsin’s time with anyone while they’re together here in the playground. She doesn’t chide him for what he says or overlook him while he tries to get her attention. In this moment, she sees only Ophanim, and he is finally content.
