12-04-2019, 12:45 PM
You’re uncontrollable
and we are unlovable
and we are unlovable
On the topic of holes and emptinesses, Leilan feels like a Swiss cheese; more air than sustenance, more hole than whole. He oftentimes thinks that that is the fate of the immortal; then again, counting back the years, he is not older than 15, except to those who count the strange years in which he lived Beyond not as 3,5 years but as… what had it been? 25? Decades at least… at any rate, for him not much time had passed, and he decided 15 or perhaps 16 would top it.
So then what causes all this drama? Why couldn’t he peacefully live forever with his wife, like Shah and Ilka?
He knows the answer is his own nature: his draw towards adventures, to forbidden fruits, his incapability to hold his tongue when causing another to be only annoyed more is just too good an opportunity to let go. But one can speculate if perhaps there is some curse on him, say it’s an outside source. Why are so obsessed with me, drama?
At the crossroads then, where one Swiss cheese meets another, they hide inside the bushes to the side to the road, hoping not to be spotted, hoping not to be melted down or grated over some delicious meal.
They hide between words: prickly jokes and juicy secrets are their game, and the story of the salty sheep continues between cheese and thorns and berries.
The scaled roan shakes his crest a little. ”Not for just anyone, of course.” He tilts his head at her. Do with that what you will, he seems to tell her. ”But you shouldn’t be negotiating with me, I think.”
And so, he closes the topic, feeling that he’d already shared plenty information about his roan niece, and that it should be enough now. Murmurs and gossip wouldn’t bring Lilliana to her goal; actually verifying the rumours, just might.
The cheeses dance around the bushes some more; carefully avoiding sight in hopes of not getting stuck on the thorns they’ve thrown up between themselves and the world. ”Squirrels, hmm? Any one of them interesting in particular? I hear some can have a mean bite, but others might be sweet.”
Her question about his own hobbies make him laugh. Of course. ”I’d say so. There’s also freezing butts, irritating certain diplomats and kings alike, and scaring little children.” He chuckles, reminded of a conversation with Kensa not long ago. ”Hoarding gold and kidnapping pretty maidens. Eating the least profitable ones.” He shakes his head as he says it, but can’t help stop the stupid grin on his face. ”You know. The usual.”
So then what causes all this drama? Why couldn’t he peacefully live forever with his wife, like Shah and Ilka?
He knows the answer is his own nature: his draw towards adventures, to forbidden fruits, his incapability to hold his tongue when causing another to be only annoyed more is just too good an opportunity to let go. But one can speculate if perhaps there is some curse on him, say it’s an outside source. Why are so obsessed with me, drama?
At the crossroads then, where one Swiss cheese meets another, they hide inside the bushes to the side to the road, hoping not to be spotted, hoping not to be melted down or grated over some delicious meal.
They hide between words: prickly jokes and juicy secrets are their game, and the story of the salty sheep continues between cheese and thorns and berries.
The scaled roan shakes his crest a little. ”Not for just anyone, of course.” He tilts his head at her. Do with that what you will, he seems to tell her. ”But you shouldn’t be negotiating with me, I think.”
And so, he closes the topic, feeling that he’d already shared plenty information about his roan niece, and that it should be enough now. Murmurs and gossip wouldn’t bring Lilliana to her goal; actually verifying the rumours, just might.
The cheeses dance around the bushes some more; carefully avoiding sight in hopes of not getting stuck on the thorns they’ve thrown up between themselves and the world. ”Squirrels, hmm? Any one of them interesting in particular? I hear some can have a mean bite, but others might be sweet.”
Her question about his own hobbies make him laugh. Of course. ”I’d say so. There’s also freezing butts, irritating certain diplomats and kings alike, and scaring little children.” He chuckles, reminded of a conversation with Kensa not long ago. ”Hoarding gold and kidnapping pretty maidens. Eating the least profitable ones.” He shakes his head as he says it, but can’t help stop the stupid grin on his face. ”You know. The usual.”
and I don’t want you to think that I care
I never would, I never could again
Leilan
no. 7 | ice forged in fire
@[lilliana]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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