GHAUL -- Year 209
"(souls are not meant to live more than once — death was not meant to be temporary, and she is so sure that every time her heart starts to beat again that irreversible damage is further inflicted)" -- Anonya, written by Colby
the thing that goes bump in the night; any
12-23-2018, 01:26 PM
She hated the dark.
Hated the thing she became in the dark.
It was why she was just standing there alone. Because she was a skeleton, all clacking bones as the skin sloughed off her and her hair fell out in clumps. Even a mother couldn’t love a freak like this that became worse than the walking dead at night. So she hated the dark.
But the dark loved her!
It made the skeleton-foal gleam in the faint light of the moon and a few stars. She looked nightmarish but beautifully so, even at such a tender age. Soft smooth bones, still growing and not pockmarked by injury or time. Until she moved - -
Each step was disjointed and jangly.
Why? Because skeletons dance! They don’t just walk and trot like any old horse. She - poor thing was just a sad sad girl - danced, it was jarring and grotesque but it was a dance as long as midnight held sway over the land. Dances until the first rays of the sun peeked over the eastern edge of the horizon.
When the sun rose to its fullest, the hair grew back in upright tufts from her neck and her skin once more clothed her bones from sight. She lay curled up by herself in the grass, panting and tired from the night before and all the maniacal dancing.
The Den was not somewhere the stallion normally ventured, he’s never had cause. His own children would never be found here and never has he felt the pull of fatherhood so strong as to take on someone else’s broken offspring. Today, for unknown reasons, he decides to cut through the magical little place…just to have a peek. He’s found nothing in the field today, maybe this will be at least mildly fruitful…
Chemdog’s skin prickles as soon as his big feet start to scar the sand and stone of the Den’s earthen floor. Faeries flit and chitter, swooping on him, brushing him off to the side, aggressively herding him in a direction he assumed was the exit – but it was not. The creatures harass him, even sting him a few times (with what, he does not know, but it felt electric). “Ow, fuck!” He snapped emptily at one of them, but it only giggles as it is much faster than a silly horse.
“Oh,” He snorts, stopping just before he gets a little too close to the little black bundle down below his nose. “I do so apologize, little one,” He stays a few steps away as to not scare it, looking around, the Faeries have fled. Why would they want him to see this little thing? If he had the physical ability to shrug he would do so now. Fuck it.
“Are you injured?” His smile now is genuine, one of the rare times that it is. “Sick?” his teal eyes blink down at her bright, and alert, he shows no signs of the rot that has invaded him. He is reckless to be in the Den; perhaps that is why the faeries led him to her...perhaps she is sick too and the sickos are better off together.
astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
idk but ily you kris <3
not sure whats going on here but im excited
01-19-2019, 10:44 AM
She lay there, spent and beginning to cough and shake as the airborne spores of plague found her. They travelled inward on an inhale and spread deep and fast through her lungs, wiggling their way like worms into her bloodstream until fever began to cook her blood to a boil and sweat ran from the pores of her skin. Gollum is not sure what is happening but the plague begins to mess with her mind, and her vision swims already with exhaustion so that she falls asleep in fits and starts.
Her head jerks upright every so often from where it has fallen low enough for the tips of the grass to tickle her nostrils. She sneezes and wheezes; chest rattling with mucus that has no place to go but builds and sits and multiplies inside her. Gollum thinks that she can see fairies, see them flitting about on fairy-errands and fairy-business. She pays them no more mind and tries to go back to sleep again.
There’s a heavy thump-thump on the ground that she can feel. It jars her awake, pain ricocheting in its wake as it zips and zings through her body. Everything hurts! She blinks through bleary year-filled eyes, trying to see him better as she hears his apology and offers up a weak watery smile. No one ever cared before if she was okay, not even the silly fairies that feed her just because she’s here and she’s an orphan, that much she knows about herself.
His smile puts something in Gollum at ease; probably a worry or a fear that had reared its ugly head up at his coming. Maybe, she’d thought for an instant, he had come to smite her at the fairies’ behest. “Sick,” she echoes faintly as she tries to stir and stand but her weak limbs give away beneath her. She groans, swings her head and tries again - success! Gollum stands but the effort has winded her mightily and she sucks in air noisily before lifting her eyes to his kind face.
“Have you come to end me?”
Because that would be a mercy right then, to expire. But no, says a small sharp voice in her head. You don’t get to go that easily, and Gollum sighs, hanging her head again. She really was such a neglected pathetic child.
Chemdog ahhhh! ily you too! sorry she’s so mopey at the moment lol
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