Author Topic: Lunar [Open*]  (Read 620 times)

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Offline Serrate

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Lunar [Open*]
« on: June 01, 2017, 11:39:34 PM »
Directly following The Sons of Gemini

------------------ ☾☀ ------------------

The queen was dreaming.

It was dark. She hasn’t been here before. The ground beneath is water so still it’s as if she stands on glass. She doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t know how she got here. She doesn’t know where she’s going. All around her was inky blackness with depth unknown. It is darkness so vast that the weight of it threatens to suffocate her. It was time to make a choice.

Let it. Or walk. Part of her wants to continue sleeping. Part of her wants this to be the last dream. It would be easier. It would be better. She could let the things beyond close in and she could never wake.

(Her sons challenge the Old Gods. The water is still before her and she considers allowing it be for nothing.)

No. No. No. Make your choice. MAKE IT. She starts to walk. Behind her she leaves ripples and behind her the pitch draws ever nearer. But—but. She was wrong. There’s a light just on the horizon she hadn’t noticed before. A tiny dot in the distance. It grows nearer. The void creeps along the ink and it says, Serrate, where are you going? Serrate. Come back. You don’t have to die today. Serrate, come back.

It’s a sweet song. She listens to the lull, but the light pulls her forward. Not yet, she asks, and it’s sweet, too. Just a few more steps. Just a few more moments. Just let me see. I won’t be long. The Ancients give her leash some slack. She drifts onward.

It is a crystal that catches the light that shouldn’t exist and glows softly, softly, softly. What a thoughtful gift it had been, a lantern meant to dispel her fear of the dark and show her the way onward. It was blue.

She lifts her eyes, and continuing on in an unwavering line, is a light on the horizon. The thing behind her beckons her back. No, no. Not just yet, she asks. There’s something else. I’d like to see it. She walks. It lets her.

It is the single scale of a fish. The edge is so sharp she nearly cuts herself on it. Was this all that remained of the meal laid at her feet? What a useful gift it had been, nourishment for a body weary and broken. It was blue.

The scale is like an arrow. It shows the way. Something else waits for her. Serrate, sing the things of the deep, surely you’ve seen enough by now? No, not yet, she decides. You can have me just a bit later. Please be patient. She walks. It lets her.

It is a rose with curling petals. There was no reason for it. It was just nice. Sometimes that’s all something had to be. Nice. Soft. Pretty. It was blue.

There’s something else. It seems so far away. She considers retiring. Sometimes it simply had to be enough. She starts to turn back. A firefly flickers by her nose. She turns her head to follow it and a silver moth lights upon her ear. She shakes it free but it leaves stardust behind. They follow where the thorns point. She doesn’t listen to the thing behind her. She walks. It lets her.

It was the boy who died. It was the boy who came back. He looks up at her with the firefly and moth circling round and round his head. He looks up with eyes wet with tears. She tells him it’s alright—she found the way, she found him here. He says it’s not, and he begins to sob. The sky is too big, he tells her, and it rises all around them, distant pricks of light reflecting on until the end of times. It was hard to find the piece she was missing, he hiccups, but he thinks he has, and with paws crusted with salt, he offers her a piece of the sky. It was blue.

She wakes slowly, like the eternity that passed between a red boy’s realization that his mother was dead and his realization that she was not. She wakes quickly like a blue boy’s final descent into the sea.

There’s a strange feeling. Like something rising. Like the first evening star. Like the moon. Like the last lonely gasp of air from a boy drowned. She opens her eyes and nestling in the reds of her kingdom and birthright is the last gift the sons of Gemini gave to her. A little flaw.

(IT WAS BLUE.)

She opens her eyes. She can see. The grit between her toes. The scars shifting beneath her fur. The whorls and dips in the roots of the old, kind tree. She hadn’t known how she missed the details until the leviathan put the crevice in her skull, and it whistles and draws weaker bugs still, but the fog lifts and leaves behind only wisps. Almost like it had never been there at all. Thank god. Thank god. She was so tired of SHAPES.

She walks. Nobody holds her back. Not even the deplorable things that lurk in the dark. Someone else fought it too. We are our own worst enemy—isn’t that right? She steps into the night and the moon’s light sweeps over the dissipating fog and hits the cracks in her heart. Darkness creeps across her face, but tonight she is still here. The night is grateful for her. So, too, is she.

But life is always changing. Nothing stays the same. Her son lies below. The moon hangs above. It grows dark as celestial bodies click into the places they were always meant to be. The sun aligns with the earth. The earth aligns with the moon. She looks up as that familiar face darkens and the night sky turns red. Together they were, and together, they eclipse.

She stands still as sailors delight at their good fortune. Her boys meet on a distant shore and they crash together as they’d always meant to be. Together they rode rivers in the heavens and plotted new courses through the treacherous void. They wake up tomorrow together.

A storm was rolling in from the sea and it came from lands unknown, but it didn’t worry them. Dark clouds roll over the red and lightning lances and crackles across the surface of a blushing moon. She watched it all, and as the rain began to pour and wash the traces of someone who wanted his last steps to be forgotten away, all she could think was how, how, how—HOW THE STORMY SKY WAS BEAUTIFUL.

She didn’t know if she was crying or if it was the storm washing over her in great dark waves but she found she could not bear to look away. She could see it. She could see it.

She wanted to see all of it.

~ ☀⊕☾ ~

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« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 02:30:16 AM by Rhiow »
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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #1 on: June 02, 2017, 12:44:51 AM »
The world was dark for only a mere moment, the dawn radiating warmth in the crimson waves of the ocean. The Earth stood between the Moon and the Sun, rotating each story like one turned a page. An arc had ended, another one began. Life was a cycle as was the universe where stars died and another was born, condensing into gas until light emitted from heavy gravity.

The little girl dreamed of nebulae in the face of her father, his eyes twinkling with pride as her siblings rode on with the Mother. The son would twitch against his adventures, following his Alkaid into the darkness or light. It did not matter, they were the constellations that ventured around the world, that placed fate into the cosmos. Aldebaran would follow his Alkaid.

The storm would grow, a familiar cold that the demon tasted in younger days, when the world was nothing but savaged beasts fighting for survival and plants as thick as fungus. The mists swirled, his tendrils mixing in with the chaos of the rain, the brine and rot fading away into the soil. The soul was quiet for once, not laughing that echoed along the thunder claps. The bleeding heart of his host stopped and began with the rolling waves, his breathing ebbing and flowing against his lungs that should’ve been filled.

He too dreamed, of darkness and cold. The warm body pressed against him was as much as a ghost as the demon was. The shade saw that, mocked him in the form of a cold boy searching for warmth. Of a father who loved too much, too little. The fallen King had survived — survived the coup of a slave; survived the poison force fed to him; survived the falling ash and fire; survived the long journey to find his daughter; survived the dark depths of an ocean cavern.

He had no brother to reunite with.

A father cuddled up to his lover and his children, missing the warmth of her love when he was away. They had travelled so far, he had missed all of the pieces of the puzzle. The book closed, but not his. His was open, the pages turning to better things. Green eyes glanced to the window, feeling the chill of a storm against a fire, the rain pelting the glass, sliding down as the God’s cried.

He was used to this kind of weather, his dark coat thick. The black wolf was ignorant to a father’s love, to a mother’s love. To a brother’s love. The universe did not smile upon him like it did the King and the Prince, as they orbited around each other as binary beings. A blue and a red star, much like Castor as the other two orbited from a distance. A King and a Princess. He was no Prince, he was only a black boy who held no reserves on love, with no friends. But his eyes turned as everyone had to the heavens, blue against blue.

My favorite color is blue, too.

Finally, the mother. The angel of death who danced with the King on a night full of stars and blinking lights. Of fireflies on a field of green as the sun set on their love. Two lovers, two stars that tried to orbit, but she had another fate. She would birth the stars of the King, to send them out to shine as the Pleiades. She would bleed, she would die, she would live for them alone. Golden eyes would stare out, catching the white of her King’s skull lying next to the twin stars. She smiled then, knowing they were happy in their own world.

She smiled, her tail curling along the small bodies of her children, her growing children. The red string of fate might have been cut by the scissors of destiny, but the Valkyrie would stand against the coming storm.

I love you.

----------------------


Oh, but the page was not done, was it? Always an epilogue.

The red prince could not move his head, he was sick, always had been from birth. A brother who had no stars to orbit, he was alone in his own little corner of the sky. The flaw that drove the blue prince off the edge of the cliff hadn’t burrowed as deep within this one, but that speck of red was still in his body. A growing plague of pestilence. The pale boy he sank his fangs in would live, but the dying prince wasn’t so sure. He may die alone, but in this moment of the storm outside, his pale sore eyes glanced to the roots. The specks of rain seeping through the cracks.

If only he were strong enough to write his own pages.
« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 12:45:20 AM by Gothy »






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Offline Chelae

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #2 on: June 02, 2017, 01:08:47 AM »
How many dreams had she had? Drops of that undiluted nightscape all came together into an ocean that threatened to drown her. Maybe she should have recorded them, maybe she should have tried to remember, but they washed away just like paw prints in the sand. Yet it had been so long since she'd had a nightmare. Tonight wasn't so different: another sky that opened a gaping maw another sea rising up to swallow and it's the same over, and over, and over. One sibling tugs the red string and the rest down the line feel it. The line snaps and the horizon fades into a single solid shade of blue.

Chelae woke up alone, as always.

The storm rolled in and she felt the change of weather in her fur. Something breaking over the back of Gemini, poised to drench it in a torrent. Would that have cleaned away all the blood? All the tears? Bah... she didn't have time for such petty philosophizing. And yet she couldn't help herself but wonder. When she emerged from her den, makeshift hole in a heap of rocks, she turned her mismatched eyes to the sky. For a moment she felt tiny below the grey sky, like the little girl she'd been cowering between Ori's legs. Then she reminded herself: it's just another storm. They'd seen storms before. They'd get through this.

(There is nothing to do but move forward).

(But they are not free from the shadow yet).

As she tore her eyes away from the sky, she decided it was time. Maybe the conditions wouldn't be right, but she could make this decision here and now. The nightmare was the deciding factor. Oh, she'd though about it a long time. She'd thought, maybe what she needed to do was get to the heart. And where would that be? Back at the beginning, of course. Chelae turned her nose towards the sea and took two steps and... stopped. No, she couldn't go alone. None of them had been alone, then, all of them forged together. Bound together. But who could she possibly ask.

The answer was obvious.

Wasn't it?

So this time she turned her nose and turned her heart towards the den she knew her brother slept in. Maybe it would start raining, but that didn't matter. What was a little more water? It didn't take her long, of course, and soon enough she stuck her head into the den and let herself block the light. He had to be here. The new fear that nobody would remember her in her dark coat gripped her, but - how could he forget?

Chelae regarded her brother for a moment and tried to gather her courage.

"I'm going back to the island," she announced. No fanfare. No explanation. He'd understand, wouldn't he? But then she felt something in her waver, her resolve crumbling. If he said no, she wasn't sure she could bare to go. She needed him, her brother in arms, the only one who she might have dared to talk about her dreams too.

Besides, who else could she ask? Hyperion? As if.

"...Come with me,"
Chelae tried to make it a request, but her voice crumbled into what could only be described as pleading. "Zenith."
« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 01:12:44 AM by Chelae »



#AB5656
when I ran out of thread
i couldn't let go
but that's not sewing, that's
that's just poking holes
and it's a strange breed
a different kind of creature
looks for love through the eye of a needle
but the creed of the seamstress is
that you're pretty in pieces

played by spear

Offline 源氏

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #3 on: June 02, 2017, 01:28:55 AM »
Something stirred in him. The gentle whispering voices of sleeping dragons as they twisted over him where he slept, having found refuge up in the tightly-wound branches of an old tree. He felt the wind slide gently over his fur like the scales of sea-serpents.

(In his own dream, he cannot see the sky. He sinks beneath the sea. Far off, in the real world, someone else does, too. He opens his eyes and hears the sound of voices, far off, muffled by the water. He stays underneath. He breathes and it is natural. In the deep blue, the shadow of Leviathan passes underneath him, and says: Now is the hour.)

He awoke— eyes wide. He gasped for breath, as if he had been holding it.

He stood. Now, now, now. He could feel the dark shadow of Leviathan underneath him, passing through the earth as if the earth was water. It was-- damp. He slid down. Drifted down from between the gnarled branches, almost, sliding against the sideways trunk until he reached the ground.

Something about the sky had changed. Something about Gemini too, he realized, had also changed. Some shift in energy, some great and terrible power had moved. Stars aligned and then broke apart and fell, one by one, into the sea.

He stared forward at the moon (red, red, red), and then down, watching the shadow of Leviathan disappear off into the distance. His direction was purposeful, his course was secure. All around him the earth seemed to surge, as if a whole pod of whales or dolphins or some sea entity was swimming around him, and he parted the herd like a rock in the river. Water from the sky made rivers that formed over them.

(There was an eel, a fleeting and brief vision—)

(Another wave crashes against battered cliffs.)

(Now, now, now— home, to me. To the birthplace, he knows. To Leviathan's birthplace, and his own.)

He ran; his feet slid on the wet ground, but he held his eyes on Leviathan and ran.

Offline hyperion.

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #4 on: June 02, 2017, 03:14:05 AM »
The ocean called to him, like a mother to her child.

(like church bells to the congregation)


There were two lights ahead of him, two giants swirling hotly around the other in a rhythmic dance whose radiance swept over him like a wave.

Red and blue set the darkness ablaze as the two beings circled closer, tighter — their orbit no longer a dizzyingly unified tango which left him in a trance. His skin began to burn and he could feel the gelatinous flesh on his eyeballs peel and sizzle from their brilliant radiation, but he could not look away. The Red Giant quickly outgrew it’s Blue counterpart and the immense gravity pulled the other being into it’s atmosphere, then swallowed everything until there was only Red. They were burning too bright, too HOT, too fast -- only one of them could shine in the end.

THE STRONG PREVAILED. THE WEAK WERE SWALLOWED AND FORGOTTEN.

Red consumed. It poisoned.

Like it had with Kariya and like it WOULD WITH—

it filled his vision and drew thick in his ears until he could hear the violent undertones, screaming; YOU ARE WEAK, YOU ARE BURNING TOO FAST, TOO HOT,

lightning struck. He woke with a start.

The dismal song of the sea beckoned him from his den.

(like an anglerfish to his prey)

The storm raged above him and caused a maelstrom below, but he was not afraid. The massive waves crashed into the cliffs violently and sent salty foam flying in all directions around him as he looked down into the water from hundreds of feet above. Something pulled at his flesh and ached his bones, come closer, it cooed, we will love you, it promised, let us fill the void you desperately are trying to claw your way out of, we can, we can, we WILL.

He thought he’d saw a fleck of shining red sinking beneath the undulating surface. Everywhere he went he saw red. RED RED RED RED it was the curse of his mother’s family and the ancient blood that sought to consume it’s host.

Through the howling wind, the earth shaking thunder, the crackling lightning and the crashing of waves; a bell chimed in the distance.

He took a step from the cliffs, hair blowing wildly around him as the storm surged. He turned from the red and made his way to the borders of the territory. All you have to do is go, no one is stopping you, leave this place of ghosts and shadows and write your own story before the red ink soaks into each page and takes over your book.

So he did. His bones ached and the ocean’s call became more desperate, more violent, you don’t GET to leave, you will DIE without us, your family, your home….

“Please, come back.”

Was all he wanted to hear.

But it was just the wind, just the thunder, the lightning. There was no family beckoning him home, just the siren song of the sea…. and a chime. It rung deep within Gemini and mesmerized him, soft, caring, gentle, things he craved so deeply that it drew him back.

Not his family, no, but a bell would do for tonight.
« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 03:17:08 AM by hyperion. »

Offline Avery!

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #5 on: June 02, 2017, 06:59:18 PM »
The storm took their little world in its grasp and washed everything in a dull red haze. Luminous cracks disrupted the skyline and with them came a rumble like the roar of something huge and old and fearsome as their every curse, as every wandering phantom trying to find its way home, as every should-not-be amalgamation of the fear and rage in their hearts, as every son and daughter and unending chapter of incomprehensible Gemini that would not let them close the book, no matter how they tried.

The storm took their little world. It tried to drag her out of her skin. It tried to lift her up and batter her and lance its lightning like a spear through her heart; it tried to take her every thought and blow on them like a child with a dandelion (make a wish) and let the ruins of whatever had been Avery fly apart like ashes in the tempestuous wind. It told her that old dangers were alive. It told her there was no escape. She clutches close what she holds cradled in her front paws and closes her eyes against the din. She counts backward from a thousand. She remembers the mountains. She defies.

(get out. eff you.)

She'd gone to see her ailing nephew as the first traces of the storm began to creep in like a foreboding draft. Keep your promises, Avery. We do for those we love what we say we will, even if it burns us. She returned because she'd said she would, because she should have been there, because surely if she fought hard enough, showed her teeth long enough, kicked and snapped and screamed loud enough --

(GET OUT. eff YOU.)

-- she could pull him from the mouth of something that had already good as swallowed him. That had already crushed him in its teeth.

There was no hope. There were never any monsters she alone braved. There had never been a demon on that poor boy's shoulder. There was only senseless tragedy that came and tore you to pieces. There were only the swarms beneath your skin that it left behind. Would that her throat too had jaws of its own, that she might close them on the head of every Queen who tried to pluck their tendons.

An empty den greeted her. Her body blocked out the light streaming in from the entrance. Like the earth between the sun and the moon. Oh, she'd said in dull, empty surprise, and it was then she knew for sure. The gift at her doorstep. The absence. The careful obfuscation, that he might never be found, his pieces used as morbid garden decor. The little boy I once took to the riverside has crawled off somewhere to die. The prince who called me auntie has gone back to the sea.

And now.

Avery lay watching the lunar eclipse tipped onto its side. She was in her den, lying on one side. The dark trails of old tears dried beneath her sagging eyes and in them both reflected the light still shining behind the back of the great crimson hole in the sky. Clutched against her chest was the head of an eel; in its second set of jaws was a lovely blue blossom rather than the remnants of a cruel Queen. A little boy, still fat with youth, still scared of storms, climbed atop her as though she was his own personal castle. Surely the thunder could not catch him if he was in here with her. He looked with eyes a paler yellow than her own into her face.

"Godmum. How come you're sad?"

"I'm okay, kiddo."

"Your eyes look funny."

"Yeah. Come down here a sec."

Machete did, sliding down the slope of her ribcage. Avery rolled up sphinx-like, set aside her eel, placing it with tired reverence against the wall of the den, and pulled him against her in its place, pudgy cobalt wriggling impatiently before settling down, his head lying in the crook of one leg. He breathed slowly. He watched the stormy sky with suspicion; elsewhere the old Sabora watched it with awe.

"I don't like that."

"Me neither. But you know something about storms? They're loud. Maybe they make things dark for a while --"

"-- I thought there was a monster in the corner!"

"Yup, you did, and it was just our shadows. Storms are tricky. But when we're in here safe, they can't hurt us."

"They can't?"

"Nope."

The eclipse in time lost its red and became pale as the eye of a dead boy free at last. They watched this phenomena, one they might not see again, before the warmth of the other lulled them both into untroubled sleep.

You did good, Kariya. Tauro.

I'll miss you. I'm sorry.
My fire is wild
My rage is deep
One black eye
Busted teeth

Played by Kotake


Offline .Deimos.


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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #6 on: June 02, 2017, 09:18:46 PM »
The counterforce fell. The beautiful blue-grey moon turned red and black.

Deimos had felt the last little string lightly snap, and that was it, that was the end of it. That's what probability and genetics gets you. That's what happens with gravity. Kariya had left her a gift and she knew the meaning, she had taken a moment to stare at the symmetry. The shell was large and spiraled to its center. Kariya must have known she'd like the mathematics of it, the neat, perfect curves. The poetry of a beautiful structure, hollow inside. It reminded her of him, too, because of the color. Because it made her think of water. The flower was a nice touch, too, Kariya. Thanks for the dead flower. The dead nautilus. They would be two beautiful things for the living to hold and look at and remember. Deimos set them in her den near the entrance. Then she went for a walk.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
-
The audience looks at their pocketwatch. it has two hands and one is stopped but the other keeps ticking (just one one one one one). That's not right, you think. The audience taps the glass. Someone once thought time was a bullcrap spectator. But time doesn't spectate - it's not even watching, it doesn't care. It's not paying attention. You are. You're the one who watches the scenes time is painting. You're the one who taps on the glass and changes nothing. You're the one who has to burden loss. You're the one who is wondering what happens now, in the shadow cast by heaven's calculated orbits.
-

Deimos didn't wonder. Deimos was angry, but when the hunter rose up to bite down on the shadow of that anger, she bit holes in it until it whimpered in the place her soul should have been. It's not yours, the princess would tell the beast in her blood. You don't have a claim on this. He was my brother.

She retraced steps. Followed the strands of red string. Followed the miles of DNA. The audience recognizes familiar landmarks.

Loss is just another kind of entropy. Chaos is the universe slowly dying. Grains of sand are the fragments left over from mountains, each a tiny corpse washing ashore after what the ocean did to it. Spiraling through the hole in the hourglass, twirling in gravity's arms. Kariya's ending was beautiful, you probably think. Meaningful and poignant. Poetically juxtaposed. Deimos would say no. Kariya died the way everyone dies. A body breaks. The hand of a clock strikes and stops. A one flickers and a zero stays a zero for eternity. Kariya was at the bottom of the ocean getting nibbled on by worms, his little red flaw eaten through by eels, and so to Deimos, it wasn't poetic - it was a waste. Kariya could have had more time, she thought, had he just been a little less lazy.

What a selfish thing to do to your sister.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
-
The audience watched the counterforce fall. It fell from a cliff and had a belly full of rocks. Oh - the audience remembers, when they are done with their catharsis. When they eventually have to look away from the beauty of two dead boys. Oh - the audience remembers, this is still going. This isn't done yet. There's still a King. There's still a princess. There's still day and night. There's still life and death. The moons and suns burst apart and the cosmic dust debris builds new moons and new suns. Supernovae are just violent, brilliant ends and violent, brilliant beginnings. Corpses of stars, corpses of brothers, that's not the end of the story. (Even if you wish it was. Even if you'd like to stop on a note so bittersweet and beautiful. You don't get to stop yet. The clock keeps ticking for the rest of us. Gravity keeps pulling the rest of us. Kariya doesn't suffer anymore, you say to yourself. You're right. Kariya is dead. But there's still more loss for those of us on this shore, and even if time doesn't witness it...you will.)
-

She paused a moment on her path to look up to the heavens at the gathering storm. At the tilting bodies and the blackness they beamed outward. Deimos and her brother had both loved the sky. They both liked its colors. Here's a question - is the sky blue, or is it black? In the space between all these storm clouds and of all these planets, is the sky as blue as the sea?

One one one one one said Deimos' heart. It did some of the things hearts normally do, like pump blood and nestle between ribs and count the passage of time. Kariya was the only person in the world who had ever seen her. The only one who knew the curves and spirals of her emptiness. The hollow, opalescent chambers. The sea and the moon could not generate light, they only reflected it, and Kariya was the one mirror the universe had given her. Kariya jumped and gravity shifted. All the gravity in all the universe lurched. You couldn't hear it, because of the distance and the void of space, but gravity shifted and a single planet's orbit began a new spin.

One. Said Deimos' heart as it reached out to pull on something that wasn't there anymore. One.

The princess walked in the soft grass. Deimos had a red scar on her ankle. The only flaw on an otherwise perfect shell. Gravity held her back, back then. Kariya had held her ankle in his teeth.

The void was empty and now Deimos was the only one looking at it. There were no bugs. There were no queens. There were no stars. There was only infinity. Endless, lonely infinity. As much infinity as you could fit into nothing at all.

The hunter was bleeding and silent and afraid. What did Deimos feel? She walked through the soft grass of Gemini and didn't say a word. She passed flowers of all colors and disregarded them. She passed anthills and rivers and dens and she knew them for what they were - objects. If she felt pain, she regarded it for what it was - her brain and body. She walked the length of the pack, retracing steps, following the DNA. [they shared it. they all shared it.] She followed the broken thread to where it lead her. She found a red flower. She found a rabbit hole. She found an old, old tree. Not as old as the stars, but old. She found foxfire. She found a riverbank. She found a cliff overlooking the sea. It was beautiful way up here, even with the storm. What did Deimos feel? The princess sat down. A salt breeze rose up. An unanswered question was draped across the whole sky -

Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
Do you love me
"Do you love me?"

Deimos sat on the cliff overlooking the ocean.

The sky is blue. Water is wet.

"You're my brother."
« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 09:21:08 PM by .Deimos. »
     










Obsidian, you watch it all,
black-boned universe biting itself
you stare into the abyss and
it feels like a looking glass
where you pull back a stray hair
from an immaculate face.








Offline dayne

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #7 on: June 02, 2017, 09:31:35 PM »
Somewhere, a wayward princess strained a look far across the border as darkness overtook, towards home. She wondered if her family missed her. She wondered if they knew she was gone.

------------------------------------------

A little boy with no eyes felt a shift in the air. He felt the cold swirl around him, but it presented warm. "Hello, Aeon!"

------------------------------------------

A woman with long hair lay relaxing in her own spa, watching the sky with both eyes and smiling at the change to come.


------------------------------------------







- ---- ----------------  ----------- ----- -----











------ ----  -- -----  ------- ---    ----  --  --  --- -- -   -









Somewhere else entirely, far away, in a prison built of strangling thorns, pale, empty eyes looked up into the darkness. Distraction was deadly, as a figure stood behind.



Quote
Ready to go! We’re drawing every new step             
The future began, another chapter opens
          This baton road, a drawing I know
It’s always you inside my head

Offline Skylar

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #8 on: June 03, 2017, 07:19:08 PM »
Indeed, the Aldebaran would always follow his Alkaid.

Into the cosmos, into the unknown. He would face any challenge brought to him and his family. Despite the cheery face he gave the entire world, Skylar had a determination to protect his entire family. From a young age he vowed to ensure no harm would come to anyone he loved, and Maia was no different. Perhaps with even more fervor he trailed after his leader, the soldier ever diligent in watching over her. So connected were they that it wasn't surprising if they ventured in dreams together.

Now though, something stirred him from sleep. Whether it was the pull of the eclipse, or something else, was unclear. Regardless, light blue eyes shone brightly in the dark cavern of his family's den. He lifted his head and glanced out the entrance to their home, the red tone catching his attention. One book was closing, but this one was barely beginning, page by page frantically etching words as he strove to make his mark and depart on his adventure. Interaction after interaction, day after day, journey after journey. The ink barely dried on the previous page before the next one started.

You closed the other book, but did you pick up the other open ones?

Small paws shifted as the star child stood and approached the entrance to their den. He did not step out, but he lifted his head and looked to the stars above them, the red tone lighting his pelt in a dull pink color. Something about it sent a shiver down his spine, but fear wasn't it. He felt safe within his family's arms, and besides. He had to be brave. The brave little soldier.

Gong.

The sound of the bell (was it from the tower, or a recollection of the incident?) told of a new path opening. Life was full of twists and turns, and with each choice in life, new branches revealed themselves and shone to entice the traveler. And if you looked back, you would find some branches dimming to embers. It was almost too great to understand, but the young mind of the boy wasn't worried about that. Not right now at least. A moth fluttered by, alight by the light of the eclipse that the star child stared at with wonder. Bugs buzzed, but this one was silent as it suddenly landed on the pup's nose.

He went cross-eyed looking at the moth, distracted from the nature phenomenon occurring above all of the Fringe. Silently he smiled, exhaling softly and sending the moth on its way. Skylar watched it go, the normally chatty pup quiet tonight as though sensing it was just the right thing to do. Looking back at the eclipse, now fading into the normal pale light he was accustomed to, he felt himself relaxing already. He looked back at his mother, a soft smile reserved just for her. Something bad may have happened that he was unaware of, but with his expression he promised his mother that things would be okay.

The Valkyrie would stand against the coming storm, but her little star soldier would stand with her.

"I love you, Momma."


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-=played by Moons since 03/01/2017=-

Offline Gaius.

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #9 on: June 03, 2017, 07:23:03 PM »
GAIUS Ω  ,,
Everything was dark—
 
Warm liquid that trickled across blacks and reds pooled around the corner of his sights as mechanical, shift switch limbs trudged forward, mindlessly, hollowly. The salty smell in the air meant they were closer, closer still but feeling like forever a ways away. Silence danced around him like a soothing aura as he kept himself in check; singular vision dared look up at the sky as it beckoned him to acknowledge it; it told him to see what it had to show him.
 
The moon tried offering assistance in the darkness; he didn’t feel deserving. His head remained down, low, with blurry vision staring at the beyond.
 
Gaius did little to acknowledge his company, finding himself in peace within his own space and mind, reflecting on his own demons and deciding which to kill first. The scent of water, salt, and rain kept him conscious enough to be aware of their path; aware of his path and what he was walking into. He wondered what she’d think, would she be relieved, would she be sorry, would she be sad? It was little to late now, for he wasn’t even sure if she was aware of their absence. At least someone knew, someone had expectations; a young girl-King who would get her answers, an end to a different book.
 
The sound of viscous liquid dripped against grass felt like it echoed endlessly, like the only noise between him and a woman was the rhythmic pattern of heartbeats and drops, breathing and death.
 
It was warm, it was sticky; it was a reminder. She had it too. The mark of a new part of the story and the end to a ragged, chapter that had folds in the corners and rips at the seams. It was read far too much and for far too long.
 
Blue, blue, blue, blue— Gaius couldn’t possibly know, but he’d find out soon enough.
 
Black, black, black, black— Just as they would.

He wondered where royals went when they died.
 
A distant rumble and a swift flash illuminated the sky as it sparked at the corner of his left eye, beckoning him again to look to the sky. Gaius refused, he refused to look up and he refused to look right, he refused to look left, he refused to look at her, to look at it. There, closer than he'd realized, was a Queen who gained her sight back, here, sooner then she'd known, was a man who wanted to see nothing.
 
Everything was red—
 
All he could see was red. Finally his head swung up, giving in to the force as the obedient thing he is— the lunar eclipse, the blood moon.
 
Gaius stopped. He stared. He smiled. Maybe this was for the better.

Something had changed— here, there; forever.
 
Let’s hurry up.
« Last Edit: June 03, 2017, 07:23:37 PM by Gaius. »

« PROFILEROLEPLAYS • played by ARKYLS  »

Offline Iaera [rp]

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #10 on: June 03, 2017, 08:29:15 PM »
[i a e r a]
ooc; basically she's at a nondescript location somewhere between her home and coastline, nearer to the coast, she seems a form, it's totally up to whoever if it's your character or she's just freaking out in the storm.

I don't typically write like this, so I apologize if it's kinda meh.

-------------------------


PROFILE











 

      Another night swept over Gemini, another sleepless night for the Latin woman. Purple eyes scanned for stars, stars lost in the sky, missing where they should have been. And yet... yet there were two new ones... Her pelt bristled, stomach churned, Imperium mythology echoed in her skull. Stuck in her throat was a sickly feeling of dread, the air all around felt sticky with dread. Perhaps if she was more susceptible to the sparkling nebula of mysticism that was Gemini, she would have seen the ghosts dancing in the falling rain,
in the oceans,
in the bloody moonlight.

The eclipse came, the eclipse went. Something was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Her muscles were quivering, ears pinned hard against her head. Iaera might not have seen ghosts, but she could feel the aura, suddenly she felt as if she couldn't be alone anymore. The tiny woman's throat was tight, eyes stinging with fear and confusion that she didn't exactly comprehend. A storm was brewing on the coast, she didn't want to go towards it but she couldn't not. As if she wasn't in control of her own body anymore, magnetized towards something. Waves cracked hard against the coastline, somewhere a swan had dived, but the proof was gone now. Not that the gray and tan woman would have known to look for anything, hell she wasn't even sure where she was going. OR WHY. Purple eyes were concerned, the woman was working to fathom why she was feeling so emotionally awry. The Whisper would blame it on the storm, the storm must be the source. Maybe she just really wanted to see the storm from the coast, to watch the ocean churn.

She'd never seen the ocean torment itself during a storm; she didn't know it was lamenting in the death it had caused. Or tried to.

Iaera hated to be alone, and curiosity and fear and and and... something ate at her. She wanted company, needed company. The wolfdog stumbled, tripping over something. A rock? A tree branch? Bones? SKULLS? Nobody knew, she didn't. She was running now, the rain was pouring, hitting against the tiny woman like water spilling from a dam. The maiden stumbled again, this time tripping, falling off her feet and landing hard on her face, twisting her paw. Eventually the fear subsided, she was confused and felt foolish, disturbed by the air and the storm. The wolfdog curled up, until she heard a bell tolling and violet eyes shot up. In front of her was the form of a stranger, "Somebody? I-I-I'm s-s-sorry, I-I-I got... scared..."

But was she was staring at a packmate, or a chanting shadow?
     

#CEA980

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Offline Absinthe

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #11 on: June 03, 2017, 11:00:36 PM »
In her mind, she walks a straight, striding line with her head held high and eyes wide open.
 
In her mind, she is beside him and bumping shoulders and they're telling stories, back and forth- 'do you remember?' she asks him, and he replies 'of course! I was there too, you know!' And they both laugh and laugh and laugh while the Stars guide them home. They are warm with connection, a new and budding bond, a friendship for the record books.
 
In her mind she is carrying a gift, a present for the Kingdom, something they all wanted and she could give them. She is appreciated, loved, and cheered for. She is a Heroine, and he her Hero, a white knight who carried her when she needed him the most. It is romanticized by children, they look up and aspire to be the duo. They play games they call 'The Knight and his companion, The Warrior'. They fight over who plays who, and who gets to play The Devil. She watches them and smiles. It is just fantasy, after all.
 
Just fantasy, after all.
 
In reality, Absinthe's gait is slow with her head low and both eyes shut.
 
In reality, Absinthe- The Coward- follows behind Gaius- The Shield.. The silence is necessary, she needs it to see her way. For his change in direction, for his breath, to know he is still there. She refuses to look at him, she refuses to see the world coated in red. It was always like that for her, anyway. They are no more friends now than before, because friends don't use each other. Not the way she used him.
 
In reality, she knows she is wrong for what she's done, that she carries nothing but regret and shame and oh! How it weighs her down! The children will never look at her with awe and inspiration, they will see her as the Villain, and run when she comes their way. They will mock her, jab at her, sink teeth into her face and show her her place. Just like that angry boy, Corrosion, had done when he lost his sister. She was always meant to be the Bad Guy, she knew that the day she woke up with Echo's eyes on her in the pit.
 
'Let's hurry up,' he says, all the while brimming with hope she cannot see or feel. She is tormented, more now than before.
 
Absinthe replies, but only with a muffled whine.
 
They are not alone, though. They are accompanied by a figure cloaked in black.

Offline Azuhel

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #12 on: June 03, 2017, 11:07:19 PM »
She’s confused. She’s cold. She’s lonely. She looks to the sky, unaware of the importance hanging over her, unaware of the people and their sorrows. Then she looks to the distance. Wondering, for a moment, if she should stay.

A part of her, growing larger every day, misses the prison she called home.

And the warmth of momma.




The figure follows, hollow and aching. The buzzing, buzzing, buzzing that once kept them company is oddly quiet, along with the haunting apparitions that twisted through their ears.

They look to the sky, with a wide sickened gaze, glassy and gleaming with droplets of water—

where is she?

where are they?


……………

it’s okay, I’ll find them.

Offline Iridescent

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #13 on: June 04, 2017, 11:59:10 AM »
It was just a moment, but it was a moment unlike any she'd seen before. For just a moment, the world went dark. A sickly dark tinged with red, like the moon was bleeding into the sky.

Fear swept through her body, and the familiar glow of her pelt was the only comfort. A feeling of loss, of loneliness and anguish ripped through her, a feeling she'd only experienced one other time. The night the old wolf left this world. The night she lost the only other soul she'd ever connected with. She'd hated him, his constant complaining and nagging, the neediness. But she needed him as much as he needed her. She was a youngling, she had no one else. She couldn't survive alone. She'd loved him, the stories he told her at night as they curled against each other, watching the stars. The way he murmured good girl when she brought back enough meat to fill both their bellies. The way he proudly called her his daughter when the occasional wandered stumbled across their secluded home.

But she wasn't alone anymore. Still fresh to the pack and she had already made several meaningful bonds. The ache, still strong, eased some. Under the bloody moon, she found comfort in her new family.

Akhlut. She'd never had a friend. She loved him, not romantically, more than that. They'd formed a bond the night they spent together, a bond she hoped would last a lifetime. A brother, a friend, someone she could count on by choice, rather than necessity. She ached to see him again, to stroll the packlands speaking of the sea and the beautiful creatures that called it home. What are you doing right now, Anky?

Skylar. The little puppy that had reached out to her on her very first day, who made her smile. His energy and joy gave hope to anyone he came across. She hoped he didn't feel the sinking pit of despair this odd darkness instilled in her. Are you safe, little one?

Iaera. Just as new as Iri, the sweet latin woman had been the first to welcome her and reach out to her, on her very first day. Does your language have words for what is happening in the sky?

Livid. The female who had enough faith in Iri from only a brief interaction to open up these lands to her, to welcome her into the safety of home. Though Iri had not seen her since that day, she never ceased to be grateful in these few weeks since her entry. Are you proud of me, Livid?

She leaned against the cool stone wall of her den, set into the cliff face above the fairy pools, which gave a gentle blue glow in this lack of light, then turned to the east where the shoreline glowed as it crashed. Even in this darkness, this momentary emptiness, comfort can be found, if you know where to look.

Played by Nicki

Online Ceraphena

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Re: Lunar [Open*]
« Reply #14 on: June 06, 2017, 11:51:11 AM »
The aurora gazed upward, warm brown eyes bright and shining as the moon embraced the sun; arms tight around the neck, lips to the throat, a passion the boy would never sample through out his lifetime. The solar eclipse picked at his skin as they laughed above him, entwined in one another in a way they hadn't done in centuries. Made his horns itch, dripping fresh velvet, and then his colors washed away. They pooled around his paws, and disappeared under the sky's red glare. Only red silhouetted his frame, highlighting him from the background around him. Doused in the angry dark, the boy looked at his colorless coat. He felt something like fear stir in his chest, rabbit heart racing through his ribs to burrow in his throat. Ba-ba-bump, ba-ba-bump! He wasn't brave like Hyperion, smart like Chelae, or even wise beyond counting like Zenith.

He was just... Corona.

Corona, the rainbow boy that couldn't utter a simple phrase: I love you. Lead mouth, traitor tongue, clout head, the family's burden... and now, he couldn't even shine.

How could he help anyone, if he couldn't do the one thing he did naturally? Would mother see him, or assume he was just the dark come to haunt her? Would anyone know him now?

These skittering thoughts hurt him. They lanced his heart and spread through his body, tree roots seeped into the marrow that tugged him to the ground. Chained to the hard, unforgiving earth that screamed with a thousand hurts. A million souls come and gone, screaming beneath the sediment that brushed his toes. Brown soil was brown because of blood, right? His brother's blood, his mother's blood, everything he would never truly know or kiss. Learn to love and laugh with that blood, because an outsider killed him (oh the truth was so much worse, for a mother's love truly knows no bounds than to soothe the hurt with a simple ending) and snuffed the life. Too soon, too quickly gone, and he knew the truth. Saw it through the red sky, the sun and moon's gasps of completion, and even the ink smeared ground. Gemini was a sponge. A sopping, wronged sponge. Everything terrible that could happen, would happen. The land beneath cackled at him for his stupidity, and his face grew wet with tears.

Corona sucked in a rattling breath and forced himself back to his feet, breaking the chains that bound him. Fenrir snapping through the silken cords, the dwarves shaking their heads as Jörmungandr rose from the seas. The waves snapped at the shoreline as the orcas's cries swayed on the wind, those once friendly songs reverberating as siren calls. It called him: the sea, the whales, the unknown surrounding the dead land he stood upon. He could go there with Genji, and they could dance in the depths. Writhe together in the cold water and simply succumb to Gemini's whim: die, alone among a throng of fellows. Never truly connected, the second generation of Serrate's line. They were the wayward spawn, the life that should have been celebrated. Pitied instead, looked after with such worry and fright that they were smothered. Smothered with concern and care, but still stifled beneath the too many eyes that watched him.

Watched him in the dark.

Sought for him when he was alone.

Stared at his retreating form as he felt the weight of their too bright gazes.

It... burned, like the red that slathered his colorless coat.

Broken glass breathing, jagged and sharp, but his ribs expanded. His diaphragm moved, and he felt his body go on auto-pilot. The hellion's legs moved, paws heavy beneath his body as Gemini's blood seeped into his footprints.

Kariya's blood.

Mother's blood.

Father's blood.

Tauro's blood.

Gemini was supposed to be a safe place. Life didn't go the way the world wanted. It spun, and racked up cobwebs. Tangled weave that tormented whoever it ensnared, and it was them. They were the flies, and they weren't meant for long. Would this be his day, when the sky stole his coat and replaced it with the crimson mantle? Was this his time, to join Tauro in the soil? Maybe they'd understand one another then. Death spoke all languages, even the one he could barely grasp.

So now Corona walked, his gait staggered and slow. His ears flopped above his brow, and the dual tails drug lifelessly behind him. Alone in a land with so many people, and a family so broken...? How could he hope to mend any of this? He was just as useless as Tauro's words. It didn't mean anything, in the end. He'd be snuffed, just like their previous life on the island. Stolen by people he didn't know, thrust into Gemini for "the better good." Here he was, blue horned prince, but he might as well just be another glimpse in the periphery. There, but not. Gone when fully looked at, like how his mother looked through him even though he pressed against her. Kissed her. Embraced her. Gave her all of his love and attention, but... It wasn't enough.

Corona wasn't enough.

The boy stopped, and sat. He looked at his paws, the blood (Kariya, Mother, Father, Tauro, KARIYA, MOTHER, FATHER, TAURO, MOTHER, MOTHER, MOTHER) splattered things, and he did the only thing a scared child could do.

Corona cried.