"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
02-05-2020, 06:20 PM (This post was last modified: 02-05-2020, 06:20 PM by ghaul.)
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
His ego is overfed by the wealth of captives he’s taken from both the northern and southern kingdoms. When he flies, he hardly even looks over his shoulder to see if anyone follows or cares to notice him. They could track him by scent if they felt the need to bother. And he would let them. Ghaul makes no effort to disguise his shape or the claw prints he leaves wherever he goes. He screams into the storm and he dares it to answer. And thus far, it yields to him.
The summer sun reflects off his gold-colored scales as he rides the warm air currents back to the south. He delights in tormenting the kingdom of false idols, the ones who tried to keep Clarissa shut away from his love. And they had failed miserably in that endeavor as well. His heart warms at the thought of her as he tucks his wings to descend, talons extending with a practiced fluidity now. Gluttony had taught him well despite having only feathers to give her flight. He lands with a light thud and he greedily crosses their borders, his claws kicking up dirt behind him.
His head turns slowly as he surveys the area for anything of interest, scanning the outlines of the residents. He does not hear the creature swooping down on him until they are inches apart, and then he is dragged to the ground by the fangs clamping down on his wing. Ghaul shrieks and tries to rip the golden boy from his limb, but Ophanim is smaller and faster by far. He drops his body on top of that flapping wing and keeps his teeth gripped on it so the drake is pinned to the ground.
The prince of Pangea breathes his fire and gnashes his crooked fangs, but he cannot angle himself to get to that awful angel. And even if he could, Ophanim was clever enough to already armor himself with his own scales. His slow turning halo burns with a fury he has not known before now. The desire to kill is thick on his tongue and he eyes Ghaul’s throat as he waits uneasily for Starsin to unleash all that rage she has been building since Malone was taken from them.
Suddenly, he releases his bite and he kicks out with a hind leg right at the base of Ghaul’s wing. There is an awful popping sound that turns his stomach but he kicks again just to be sure, causing the monster to shriek once more. His thrashing grows more violent and he finally manages to roll so that Ophanim is flipped off of his now dislocated appendage. It hangs limp against his side and he turns to face the divine Loessian, horns glimmering and frothy drool dripping from his jaws.
He lunges, talons extended to catch the angel by his holy throat.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She is a beautiful, terrible thing when she’s angry.
It’s been a long time since she last had an outlet – a real one. She could explode trees and boulders, watch their debris rain like confetti. She could manipulate and toy with strangers, maintaining that saccharine sweet smile as their minds boil.
But it’s not enough.
The tempest that brews inside of her chest has been slowly gathering strength as time ticks on, but finding out that Malone had been stolen would be the catalyst for her loss of control.
She loves all of her children, but her first born would always be a different kind of special to her. Because he was the first physical, tangible thing that she had to show of the love that existed between her and Ophanim, back when she was afraid that it was not real. Because he was her first chance to prove that she would not be like her own mother. Because he was undeniably perfect in all the ways that she could never be, and she would shatter entire galaxies for him if she needed to.
She is seething when she arrives in Loess, and she does not have time to register the feeling of relief that stepping back onto this red soil brings her. Because she is too busy trying to contain this tumultuous storm that craves to be unleashed, when she looks for the wretched creature that she knows will be her target, and for the angelic form of Ophanim.
The dueling pair land in her crosshairs, and she surges forward when she sees the horned boy go for her husband’s throat. Her mind flashes back to the shadows and smoke of Tephra, and to the diamond-encrusted dragon tearing into her angel boy. This time is different, though, because she knows exactly what she is capable of, and she has honed her skills to almost the ultimate level. She knows she could shatter any piece of him with hardly a bend of her mind. She knows she could collide with him the way she had the dragon girl and she would revel in the feel of his blood and flesh warm against her skin.
But just as she draws close enough, Draco flashes through her mind, and she falters.
He has already suffered so much, and if she had failed anyone as a mother, it was him and Dove. Even though her mind so desperately tries to remind her that this draconic monster had stolen Malone, and that he deserves every ounce of pain that she could set upon him, she cannot risk upsetting her other son by murdering the only constant companion he had besides his sister.
And so she swerves, and instead of colliding with the intent of a full explosion, she latches onto the remaining healthy wing. With a swift jerk of her head she pulls, and with a precision that could only come from years of practice, she shatters the wing just as she releases it.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
Some people believe that monsters do not feel love, that they lack even the capacity to understand what it means. But Ghaul loves perhaps more deeply than most. He would lay down his life for Clarissa or Draco without a second thought. He would rip kingdoms asunder to protect Greta or Gospel. The beast comes to Loess to find a plaything for his brother, for precious Draco, but he is instead met with a force that tears straight through him unlike anything he has encountered before.
At first, he feels nothing at all. His breath catches in his throat at the odd sound and he turns his head to look at the ugly stump of his wing. The red outline of the torn thing twitches and it serves as a catalyst for the wave of agony that burns through him. Time moves so slowly in this instant as he crashes into the ground, screeching and writhing so wildly that Ophanim shies backward from him. His bright blue eyes find Starsin’s and he knows that this has to be done, but the blood splattered across his face and chest turns his stomach.
Ghaul’s talons frantically scrape at the dirt as he cries out and scrambles onto his legs. His great chest heaves and drool oozes from his mouth as he turns to Starsin, contemplating between waves of torment. Every pulse sends another dribble of red down his golden sides. They smell like the hero boy, the one with his eye swollen shut, and he grits his teeth. “I will eat him. I will devour him slowly and-” But the pain is too great. He is silenced by the awful pain and he chokes on his own words. His first defeat. It is almost as terrible as the way his broken body feels but he must live to fight another day.
He must see Clarissa again.
He stumbles backward and the stars begin to weep down his face. Draco will hate him for this failure, he is sure. Ghaul gathers what strength is left in him and he skitters away from the Loessian border. Anaxarete or Clarissa will pluck him from death’s door, surely. They will not let their angel of fury pass so easily. He hopes.
Ophanim blinks after what feels like eternity and releases the breath he did not realize he was holding. His gaze drifts to the puddle of blood and tissue before him and swallows nervously. Ever since Tephra, violence has left a sour taste in his mouth.
“I’m sorry I froze up. I should have finished him. I just..” he trails off, never averting his eyes from that awful pool.
02-23-2020, 01:57 AM (This post was last modified: 02-23-2020, 02:00 AM by Starsin.)
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
Perhaps one of her greatest faults – and she has so many of them – is how quickly she can shut herself down when she needs to. How she can turn her heart to stone, how she can hurt anything and anyone without an ounce of guilt. How she can shatter his wing and feel absolutely nothing as he writhes on the ground, how his blood sprayed across her face stirs nothing inside of her. She can flip her empathy off like a switch, and as far as she is concerned, this wretched beast deserves none of hers. She has hurt those that she truly cares about without a second thought; there was no reason for her to show him any mercy.
When her eyes catch Ophanim’s, and she recognizes the look of hesitation on his face, that is the only thing that makes her stop. The only thing that refocuses her tunnel vision, the only thing that draws her away from destroying Ghaul completely.
She lets him struggle to his feet, her eyes hard and fury still brimming in the lines of her face as she hisses in response to his threat, “And I’ll fucking kill you if you do.” He stumbles away, and she does not tear her gaze from his retreating form until he has fully disappeared from view. She watches him, trembling with the adrenaline that still begs for release, her pulse pounding in her ears as she fights to regain some semblance of calm now that the threat of danger has passed.
Ophanim exhales, and the sound stirs her from her furious stupor, and when she looks at him – the sadness in his eyes, and the blood on his golden skin – she can feel herself deflate. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” but her voice sounds flat, and she flinches inwardly at her own frigidity. Coming alongside of him she gently reaches to guide his face away from the bloodbath they had left on the ground, her lips lingering across his cheek as she repeats in a tone that is much softer, “You didn’t do anything wrong, angel. And we’ll get Malone back, I promise.” She clenches her jaw, trying to not think of Malone being trapped in Pangea; trying to not think of what Ghaul might do to him in retaliation to what had just happened.
With a sigh she ducks her head to slip beneath his wing, her silver body resting against his, the way she alway does. They are a storm of emotions, both of them, and she can feel how troubled his heart is inside her chest, and it feels like a knife between her ribs, because she doesn’t know how to fix it.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
When she threatens Ghaul, the words sound muffled as though he’s underwater as his pulse throbs in his ears. But when she speaks to him it is somehow crystal clear when it reaches him. Still, he keeps his eyes trained on that awful red stain on the ground, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks to trace the glowing golden lines. Starsin says he did nothing wrong, but he feels a deeply rooted shame twist and writhe inside him. Her voice is still cold, yet he feels the way her heart beats in his chest, reassuring him she means what she says.
He complies and lifts his head when she guides his face with hers. As always, her lips on his cheek make him breathe a sigh of relief. Her love has always set the world back in motion on its proper axis for him. Ophanim traces his lips across her face in nervous kisses as he settles with his pale wing over her, hugging her close to him. It’s been so awful to not wake up with Malone nearby every morning. He misses tugging at his oldest son’s mane to get him up while the younger children laugh and watch.
“Why does this all feel like déjà vu?” he asks when his eyes focus on the strange trail Ghaul left behind him. The blood, feathers, and claw marks all feel like a nightmare from some fever but he can’t quite fit the pieces of it all back together.
But he has Starsin with him this time, he reminds himself as he leans his head to her, softly lipping at the corner of her cheek. Their love has become the bedrock of his life that keeps him from drowning in whatever ails him. Her strength compliments his fawn heart as though they were always meant to settle into one another this way. He closes his eyes and tries not to imagine where their firstborn is or if anyone is there to wake him before noon.
Lord, I could never show you anything as beautiful as you.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
He kisses her and she can feel her chest tighten, because behind the sweet touch she can feel that he is distracted, and still upset. They have always been polar opposites, the two of them; where she was cold and quick to condemn anyone for the most miniscule of reasons, Ophanim had always been far kinder than she could ever dream of being. Even when she had been younger and far courser, she had been able to recognize that he was better than her in every aspect imaginable. She was still combing her mind and working on a calculation that would lead to Ghaul being dead, while Ophanim was fighting his own demons. Anything that caused him pain – such as now – was enough to spark fire in her veins, but she fights to quell it.
He didn’t need her anger right now, even though that side of her was always easier to give.
He needed that quiet side of her, the side that he coaxed out the best, and so she tables any ideas of revenge — for now. She could kill Ghaul a different day, she decides. All that mattered right now was Ophanim.
She melts against him when his wing pulls her closer, and when she sighs into his neck she feels the last threads of her fury finally fade away. He had always been the anchor that kept her from drifting into a sea of chaos, and though his own heart still felt troubled and sorrowful in her ribcage, hers was settled and almost content inside of his. Almost, because she can never be truly happy when he is not.
Following his gaze with her own when he speaks, she frowns, staring at blood on the ground before saying thoughtfully, “Because it’s similar to how your mother died. But…” She trails off, idly tracing her lips against his shoulder as she tries to recall the events of that day. “We never did figure out who did it, did we?”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
