07-04-2017, 03:51 PM
you can have my isolation,
you can have the hate that it brings.
you can have the hate that it brings.
Before Kerberos has even managed to utter the third sentence of his scathing, scornful discourse, Offspring has grown bored – averting his dark eyes elsewhere, tracing the thicket of tall, sloping palm trees, and the heavy clusters of coconuts nestled among the broad, gleaming fronds. Behind him, the sea is stirring, lapping gently at the shoreline with a soft rustling that is almost soothing, if not for the seemingly endless tirade stirring him from his reverie.
Quietly, he observes the tension within the shining metal of Kerberos’ jaw line - the sunlight is unyielding, and its reflection draped over his gleaming skin is nearly enough to cause him to flinch and shy his gaze away, but he does not. He maintains a careful stillness, though the fire is bristling and burning within, stirring as irritation festers as if it were an open wound.
He is listening, but only half-heartedly – if his brash tone and sharp, biting words are an attempt to frighten or stir discontent, it is a wholly pathetic one, and he is hardly phased. His tone is condescending, and childish at best – not someone he, himself, would ever desire any alliance with, or even neutrality – in fact, his preference would be to pretend that he did not exist at all, but the shrill exasperation in his voice is difficult to ignore.
Finally, the darkness of his burning eyes level with his, though the gruffness of his voice does give his own frustration away.
”Are you done?”
But he does not wait for an answer.
”Decorum is clearly something that you lack. Our intent was hardly hostile, and my emissary waited at the border of your kingdom, as to be expected – to be respectful. Though perhaps you do not know the meaning of the word.” His eyes narrow then, sharp – glowering, distaste rising to the surface of his tongue like an acrid bile. The heavy flame along his spine is growing into a feisty inferno; a reflection of the anger building up within the hearth of his chest. Gently, his touches his forehead to Jord’s shoulder, nudging her towards the restless sea – to the volcanic island that was their own.
”Come, let us go home – he, and Ischia, are a waste of our time.”
And then, he is gone, with his emissary beside him, long before the unusual, screeching narwhal has arrived.
Quietly, he observes the tension within the shining metal of Kerberos’ jaw line - the sunlight is unyielding, and its reflection draped over his gleaming skin is nearly enough to cause him to flinch and shy his gaze away, but he does not. He maintains a careful stillness, though the fire is bristling and burning within, stirring as irritation festers as if it were an open wound.
He is listening, but only half-heartedly – if his brash tone and sharp, biting words are an attempt to frighten or stir discontent, it is a wholly pathetic one, and he is hardly phased. His tone is condescending, and childish at best – not someone he, himself, would ever desire any alliance with, or even neutrality – in fact, his preference would be to pretend that he did not exist at all, but the shrill exasperation in his voice is difficult to ignore.
Finally, the darkness of his burning eyes level with his, though the gruffness of his voice does give his own frustration away.
”Are you done?”
But he does not wait for an answer.
”Decorum is clearly something that you lack. Our intent was hardly hostile, and my emissary waited at the border of your kingdom, as to be expected – to be respectful. Though perhaps you do not know the meaning of the word.” His eyes narrow then, sharp – glowering, distaste rising to the surface of his tongue like an acrid bile. The heavy flame along his spine is growing into a feisty inferno; a reflection of the anger building up within the hearth of his chest. Gently, his touches his forehead to Jord’s shoulder, nudging her towards the restless sea – to the volcanic island that was their own.
”Come, let us go home – he, and Ischia, are a waste of our time.”
And then, he is gone, with his emissary beside him, long before the unusual, screeching narwhal has arrived.
you can have my absence of faith,
you can have my everything.
you can have my everything.
OFFSPRING
Offspring and Jord left prior to Caw and Kali’s arrival.