"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
He lands somewhat gracefully, wobbling as he comes skidding to a halt with his gold and white wings splayed out to keep his balance. The spring rains have grounded him for now but he gives his head a little shake, sending droplets flying from his mess of a forelock. His laughter spills from his lips like a bubbling spring. The angel boy blinks the rain from his eyelashes so his golden eyes can scan Loess with the faintest hint of a smile still lounging across his face. Slowly, his wings fold over his sides and the numerous glowing eyes hide themselves within the feathers once more.
Ophanim would like to believe that his disappearance was simply owed to his irresponsible youth. He’d like to smile and lie but there is something in the pit of his stomach that knows he’s made a mistake. Or two. Or five. He can’t really remember at this point but autumn had been a blur of trying to scratch an itch that never seemed to be alleviated. One of them had eyes shaped just like Starsin’s while another touched his neck as she did. Like he was something holy, some sliver of salvation to cling to while the world continued to rock from side to side. They each offered up a little piece of themselves that felt like home, like his lover, and he immersed himself gladly.
But the blinding mornings after painted his mistakes a sickly yellow. Gone was the needful stare or the bell-laughter. They were just strangers with a hunger like him. Each of them had used one another and then parted, perhaps never to see each other again.
His heart guides him home to her despite his crimes, though, as it aches to anchor at the shoreline of her promises. The golden boy waits patiently as he idly paws at the fresh mud. He knows Starsin will realize he’s here one way or another. A little trail of blood trickles from his nose but he doesn’t seem to mind as it drips off his lip and into the puddle beneath him. His symptoms have been light, with minimal coughing and only some aching in his joints after flying or running too far.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
It had not escaped her that Ophanim had been absent. It had been easy to ignore, at first, with Loess serving as a suitable distraction. Somewhere in the corner of her mind she was irked at the fact that he was missing during autumn; she was young, but not stupid. She knew what this season meant. However, there was also a part of her that, against her better judgment and everything that she had been taught, almost trusted him. Perhaps trust was not the correct word — she assumed, rather, that she knew how he would behave. She was the wanderer; she was the one that could not be tethered, the one that handled his heart so flippantly at times. Ophanim had always been steady, unyielding, her anchor to reality. The idea of him purposely doing something that could possibly push her away was not even on her radar.
For him to disappear was uncommon, but it didn’t bother her until things quieted down enough that she began to grow bored — with the kingdom, with Litotes, Whitter, and anyone else she had been whiling away her time with. That was when his absence truly became apparent, and the longer he was gone, the more her impatience began to simmer into a slow boil.
She smells him before she ever sees him, and stubbornly, she does not seek him out right away. She stands beneath one of the few groves of trees that hardly offer protection from the rain that showers across the land, darkening her coat from a slate gray to something that is almost black, save for the scattering of glowing dapples across her sides.
When she finally approaches him, she regards him with a subjective stare, her dark blue eyes nearly glittering with suspicion. “You have been absent,” She says almost idly, but the weight of her words could not be mistaken. She slips alongside of him anyway, her soft lips caressing the damp skin of his cheek before sliding down to his jaw. It is then that she notices the remnants of blood in his nose, and she purses her lips. “We need to find you a healer. Which shouldn’t be hard,” There is almost a hint of amusement when she speaks, knowing they still had a few healers being kept here.
If there had been concern at the sight of the blood, it disappears when she looks to him again, her delicate head cocked to the side when she asks in a voice that is a little too sweet, “Did you miss me at all while you were gone?”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
03-27-2019, 11:21 PM (This post was last modified: 03-27-2019, 11:23 PM by Ophanim.)
Ophanim
He doesn’t seem to mind the wait until she curls against his side, the demon playing house pet. Ophanim doesn’t even hesitate when he leans into her and trails his lips along her shoulder, up her neck, and finally along her slender jawline. She states the obvious and he laughs softly against the warmth of her skin. Being pressed so tight to her side spreads the same golden haze as when he first wakes up, that blissful place before he remembers all his troubles. He doesn’t even mind that she smells like other men or wonder just how long she had to be around them to carry their scent mingled with her own.
“You don’t have to worry about me. It doesn’t hurt so bad. I feel better already just being around you, Starsin,” he whispers as he tries to ignore the narrowed suspicion in her eyes. Nevermind the others, nevermind the way he tried to fill the void while she was away again. He’s grown ravenous for her affections and laying awake at night wondering if he has to fall asleep alone again. At least when he vanished himself, he knew for certain there was no one seeking him out to fall asleep beneath his wing. Every second away from her left him feeling like all the life between his ribs had been hollowed out and left to dry.
But he doesn’t admit any of this. He just nods in response to her question.
“Sometimes I try to hold my breath until I’m with you again,” he says with a smile already sneaking across his lips. “I get dizzy a lot.”
He coughs lightly and shifts his weight, freeing up enough room for his wing to spread over her and pull her close to him once more. The golden glow of the eyes tattooed across his wing make the stars across her skin shimmer even more brilliantly. Ophanim doesn’t seem to notice the bright fresh blood trickling from his nose while he grooms her mane carefully.
“What about you? Did you miss me even a little?”
Then he pauses, lips pressed into her mane and the golden lines running down his cheeks catching the sun just right. He watches her from the corner of his eye and tries to breathe softer as he strains to listen. His ear turns to catch anything she has to say as he mentally begs her to confess some ounce of adoration for him. Please, please just say something. His ego hinges on her approval, now and forever.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
He always knew how to get under her skin, in every way possible. She shifted back and forth between fighting the way she felt, and succumbing to it. It would be so simple and sweet to just let herself love him the way that he loved her, instead of hiding behind her stoic walls and nearly impenetrable barriers. But the mistrust that had been bred into her and taken such solid root inside her mind was impossible to ignore, and she refused to let herself look like a fool for loving someone that might later betray her.
“I still don’t want you to be sick,” and the message of the words could have almost been sweet if they hadn’t been spoken in such a nonchalant tone, shielding whatever genuine concern may have been there. But she responds almost instinctively when he lifts his wing, settling her lithe body against his and ignoring the delighted shiver that travels the ridge of her spine when the weight of it is rested against her. “Don’t be so dramatic,” she murmurs, but there is a teasing note to her chastising, her lips lingering against his jaw before lowering her head to rest it against his chest.
His heartbeat echoes in her ear, thumping rhythmically to match her own. It always happens like this. She thaws beneath his touch, even when she tries to fight it. Even when his thoughts are scattered with words like others, and mistake, she still stupidly lets herself be drugged into placidity by him, by his words, and his touches. His pleading thoughts, though, are louder than all the others. There is silence that stretches between them after his question, but his thoughts are still screaming in her mind. She is still for a long moment, still pressed tightly into his chest, before she finally whispers into his skin, “I always miss you, my perfect angel boy.”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
He didn’t mind that she kept her walls built too high to even consider trying to scale because nothing felt real whenever she was gone. Almost like a dream and yet just concrete enough to keep him somewhat grounded. With Starsin, though, he could feel his pulse thrumming in his veins and hear the rhythm of it in his ears. Her teasing tone gives him goosebumps and a brief ripple of hardened scales rise up from beneath his skin before they recoil in favor of smooth gold and white coat once more. Dramatic? Him? Never. He laughs softly even as her lips find his strong jawline and then drift to his chest.
Is he warm enough for her? Is the down of his wings soft enough to comfort? These are things that normally never even find the surface of his thoughts and yet they seem to thrive in her presence. The fire within him crackles contently.
I always miss you, my perfect angel boy.
He feels a bit thankful that she can’t see the ridiculous smile spreading across his lips when she says it. The expression takes over his face to the point his eyes squint a little just to make room for the joy showing through him. Perfect. Always missed. And most importantly, hers. Ophanim leans his head down to rest his lips against the little space behind her ear. She smells different, like others, but this fact is entirely lost on him in this moment. He forgets the others and the mistakes and the troubles of before. He forgets the way his nose bleeds or the ache in his lungs. There is only her.
There is only ever Starsin in his heart and in his mind.
“Would you.. ever start a family with someone like me?” he asks suddenly, surprising even himself. But the words are already spoken and he can’t pull them back into his mouth. He swallows nervously and wonders if she hears the way his heart tha-thumps a little harder against his ribs.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
Her lips rub almost mindlessly against the scales across his chest, feeling the texture of them. When he touches the sensitive skin behind her ear she can feel herself begin to tremble, and that strange warmth that only he can conjure begins to spread the length of her body. Everyone has always been just a game to her. They are entertainment, a way to pass the time. She doesn’t let them touch her the way he does, and even if they did, they would never be able to break past the barriers she has erected. Layers upon layers that she has crafted, that she lets him and only him peel away just a bit more every day.
But his question causes her to still, and she suddenly withdraws from him. She remains beneath his wing, but she shifts until their sides no longer touch. She knew nothing of family. She had spent her childhood chasing a mother that wanted nothing to do with her, she has never known who her father was, and even though she had countless relatives on her mother’s side, she has never met nor cared to meet them.
Ophanim was all she has ever had, even though she treats him like an afterthought.
“I...I don’t think I know how to do that.” She doesn’t know how she could ever be a mother when she wasn’t raised by one. She doesn’t know if maybe it’s just how her family is; maybe she is just like Starlust, and she would treat her children exactly the way that she had been treated, and in turn, the way she sometimes treats Ophanim —usually absent, and yet greedy for love and approval, but reluctant to return it.
But she knows him, and she knows that answer will destroy him. That almost rejection, the uncertainty in her voice. His thoughts are racing, so fast that she almost can’t read them, but she can see the expectant and hopeful way that he is looking at her. “But if I had to try and figure it out with anyone,” The words are slow as they leave her lips, her dark blue eyes leveling with his in a rare moment of sincerity as she continues quietly, “I would want it to be with you.” She leans back into him, her glowing side fitting like a puzzle piece against his. With her cheek pressed into the tendrils of his mane, he cannot see the worry that has slowly begun to creep into the lines of her face, as she once again is reminded of how unworthy she is of him. She had no doubt that he would make a wonderful father; he could have a perfect family, but instead she has tethered him to her.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
He would burn for her. He would set nations heaving in torment if it meant another perfect smile would sculpt across her face. Ophanim is a gentle soul without a thread of cruelty to him, but for Starsin the whole of Beqanna would break beneath the shadow of his wings. The lives would be a fleeting nothing in his eyes compared to her, the sun of his existence. The world is ink black when she retreats from his touch save for the lightest weight of his wing across her perfectly sloped back. He wants to pull her back to him but he is not coarse or rough enough to demand such things from her. Instead, he merely watches her with his brows twisted into the shape of concern and fear.
She did not want him. She did not want the perfect family he dreamed of.
His prayers turn to ash while his heart collapses around them in sharp-edged fragments. Ophanim has no idea how to raise children even after Jenova took great care to raise him into a strong, independent man. He hasn’t the first clue what a father should be or act like. Even still, something in him wants to learn, wants to sow a perfect life for the two of them. Together.
But then she speaks as the ugly eclipse has passed. Her side finds his again and he realizes he has been holding his breath since she first spoke. Ophanim exhales suddenly and laughs, perhaps out of nerves or embarrassment at his own vulnerability. There is no sign of regret even in his deepest thoughts despite the way his cheeks burn.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have no idea either. I think I’m always just diving face first into life,” he says with a light chuckle like honey and warm summer rays. “But living this way brought me to you so I’d say it’s working out pretty well for me so far.”
And then he kisses the side of her neck as he finally begins to relax again.
Meraxes stares, long and hard, his sharp vision taking in the gold-and-white figure off in the distance. He has wings, and a halo made of pure light shining around his head, but other than that the two of them could possibly be twins? Holy crap, is that his dad? His mother hadn’t described the man much – she is kinda boring and pretty much just pumps out kids anyways – but there is no doubt in young Mer’s mind that the dude he sees way over there must be his dad.
His claws dig excitedly into the dirt beneath his hooves, and he giggles out loud as he kicks up into an excited lope. Of course his dad looks so much cooler than him, it only makes sense! His mom could shift into most any animal she sees fit, but it had been a mystery to the kid about where his cool abilities came from; they definitely weren’t from her. She doesn’t have talons, or sharp vision, or – get this – firebreathing! He doesn’t really know how to control it yet, but it’s still really cool! He just knows that he’s going to grow up and all of the ladies will be falling over the little dragonling, begging for a touch of his fire.
He skids to a halt about ten feet away from them, loudly exclaiming, “Hi!” The stallion has a little bit of a nosebleed and the two of them are standing a little too close for Mer’s comfort. “I’m Meraxes, what’s your name?” He’s mostly addressing the man he thinks is his dad, but he grins broadly at the celestial woman as well, his icy blue reptilian eyes gleaming happily as he innocently ruins their happy reunion.
Suddenly he gasps, then raises a clawed foot excitedly. “Look at this cool thing I can do!” he tells them, then brings his claws down upon his opposite foreleg. He grimaces in pain, but it is only brief as the flesh almost instantaneously knits itself back together, and he giggles happily as he gauges their expressions.
and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
She can almost feel the way he begins to splinter, and the guilt wells inside of her like a crescendo. He was her kryptonite; the only thing in this world that had the power to break through her superficial hostility and make her second-guess – and sometimes almost regret – the way that she behaved. He had a way of leaving her wishing that she could be more transparent. If only she could lighten herself even a miniscule amount, and not be so intent on appearing indifferent to everything he does and says, but even though she consciously thinks it, her shield is thrown up involuntarily.
But she lowers it, for now, her lips finding the curve of his cheek, and lipping at his throatlatch. “Sometimes I feel as though I’m a curse to you rather than a blessing.” Briefly, her silvery lids cover her eyes when he lays a kiss against her neck, almost unable to ignore the butterflies that it stirs to life in the pit of her stomach. She had just dipped her head to rest it beneath his when a childish voice interrupts the subdued spell he had put her under.
Instantly, her dark blue eyes snap open, irritation flashing in them first. It’s not until she turns – disentangling herself from Ophanim in the process – that suspicion rises like bile in her throat. The colt’s coloring is almost a mirror image to Ophanim’s, with similar bright blue eyes, and talons that are reminiscent to the other draconian qualities that he possessed. She can feel her heart thundering in her chest, with heat flaring in her cheeks. When her razor sharp gaze snaps to the face of the stallion next to her, her eyes are void of any of the kindness that had previously been there. Whatever warmth he had managed to procure was now ice-cold, and her words are just as frigid as she all but ignores the colt’s introduction and asks Ophanim directly, “What the hell is this?”
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted. ( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
04-21-2019, 06:36 PM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2019, 06:39 PM by Ophanim.)
Ophanim
He opens his mouth to tell her she’s been the furthest thing from a curse but a small child comes toddling up to them before he has the chance. Ophanim turns his gold and white head to look at the boy, the same colors splashed across his tiny face. Meraxes. The angel boy lowers his head to meet the boy’s eye level and curiously bumps his nose to the colt’s face. He watches with fascination as the boy shows off his talents, which initially terrify the new father until the wound seals itself shut once more. Then he’s a giggling child, all joy and an eager stare as he awaits their reactions.
What the hell is this?
Her voice is broken glass and a quickly building rage that makes him turn his head to meet her furious stare. His own mind is still trying to piece it all together but it’s all square peg, round hole for him. Why does Meraxes look like him? Jenova and Leilan don’t even look like him and even if they did, he highly doubts they would conceive a second child together. But then whose son is he?
At long last, the pieces fall into place and his gut feels like its suddenly been twisted and knotted into a painful mess. Meraxes looks like one of those mistakes that Ophanim had struggled so hard to forget and yet the boy is standing before them now. He’s beautiful, like he always imagined his children would be, but staring at his small face is painful for him now.
“My name.. is Ophanim. This is my wife, Starsin,” he says softly as he continues staring down at his small son. He swallows hard as he struggles to think of what else to say. “Do you.. need a home, Meraxes?”
His blue eyes, terrified, turn to Starsin and suddenly those golden tear trails running down his cheeks seem to fit his expression.
