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Post by Orik on Jul 9, 2014 9:31:26 GMT -6
 He staggered through the misty world that was everything and nothing. It was painful... oh it was painful... and yet... he had no right to feel this pain. He had done nothing to prevent what had happened... it had been his own negligence that had ended everything in such a way. And so he gritted his teeth against each other and let them push further pain and pressure into his skull. For the moment, because sometimes it was easier to express and release emotions, he was in a human form. White hair and antlers the markings that he was truly who he was as he wandered through the mists, still entirely connected to his country with the vow he taken. And even so... even so... He fell to his knees, willing back the anguish that plagued him. Orik hadn't the right to feel as he felt in this moment... and yet... all the world grieved within him. The lives in the sea, their brothers on land, their sisters the trees... No creature was left untouched when something like this... when someone like Dym perished... And for those immortals fortunate enough to be so intimately connected to those precious lives... Every person and creature's pain and confusion was echoed within him. Those poor immortal fools who vowed to protect and cherish the mortal world... they ended up in Orik's precarious position... the normally regal and admirable god who had patience as vast as the sky was doubled over on the ground, head nearly between his knees, tongue clenched between his teeth as he fought with his animal urges to grieve and howl and mourn. He couldn't... he couldn't... he hadn't the right... this wasn't the time... there was no place for this emotion right now... He had to be a rock for the world to lean upon... others needed him... let the pain subside... please let it subside... Oh the irony of the situation... that the steadfast earth god would be set upon again and again by waves of grief and discord... enough to nearly turn him feral. An oak tree did not lean upon anything... and so the immortal had tried to be. Strong and proud and steadfast, he'd seemed. And yet he had not been able to sense even the most obvious of wrongs. Had not been there to help when the pivot of this world's balance had been threatened. Had let a friend die alone in whatever hell they had created for his end... Had he... had he the right to grieve? No. Had he the right to feel as if he'd lost something? No. But he felt it all the same. The pain echoing from the water and the air. He wanted to take Neviah in his arms as a small child and comfort her... but what comfort could he offer? He wanted to support Jag in his moment of crisis and inform him he would never stand alone... but what good would that promise do in the light of what's happened? He wanted to go to Brynne and beg her forgiveness... or punishment... but doubted she could offer him either... and even if she had... would it be enough to quell his pain? Orik felt his stomach heave and he retched upon the ground in his terrible fight against himself. Or was it himself? He wasn't certain in this moment which was he and which as they... |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2014 23:35:24 GMT -6
| Breathing hurts; that is the foremost thought as she fails to notice where she's found herself; each breath is shallow, and Shetani carries herself with a strange hunch. Her eyes close shut with a squeeze and she brings an arm down, an anatomical sling of sorts, to brace herself, but the wounds were earned in combat against creatures never seen; beasts of a world far beyond anything she can fathom. She is out for a stroll, and when things grow wispy and foggy, her head raises slowly, and those sharp blue eyes gaze about--it is enough to bristle the hairs on the back of her head.
One step follows the other, and she feels something rather heavy, nearly-tangible, dragging at her pores. She recognizes the feeling and her nostrils flare, her nose twitching, eyes widening to pick out whatever is emanating this feeling of utter agony
(they're all gone, all dead and gone, and she stares into the water and ponders why she is the one to make it out alive)
that pulls at her. There is something here that is hurting, and Shetani feels the desire to find what hurts and cease its hurting, to make it feel better; her hands rub her dress, the dress still slightly bloodstained. She doesn't have her knife at her side, but she hopes whatever she runs into will not be a hostile creature; as such, she advances through the fog, her breathing rushing, her nose flared--the smell is new in a slow sort of way.
Slow is certainly the word; Shetani cannot place the smell, but it is earth, the smell of Earth itself, and of the wilds, the untamed places; that is what the smell is, and she trails it slowly; her eyes search the fog, and even her keen eyesight struggles. Her gift aids her, though, as she sees a figure, she sees horns. Shetani pauses.
Then she steps forward, clearing her throat so very softly, approaching the figure, her hands outstretched before her. The figure, he is on his knees, and so Shetani kneels, her fingers twitching, her palms extended. This, she thinks, is this Orik? The same from the arena. If so...
"W-whatever is--" She speaks, soft, her voice shaking. If this is Orik, if these horns are the same from the beast in the arena, she is facing a god, and not her god. But Orik is a God nonetheless; she grits her teeth and takes a wild guess.
"I am so sorry for your loss." She takes a shot in the dark, far from Shetani's usual modus operandi--but she takes a shot, anyway. She must.
He makes her heart want to break; the suffering is nearly tangible.
| tagged: | Orik |
"AND WHAT WORLD IS THIS?" "ONLY THE WORLD OF THOSE WHO ARE BEYOND YOU." |
TEMPLATE BY EDWARD |
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Post by Orik on Jul 14, 2014 21:22:33 GMT -6
He could hear a voice... but was it next to him or was it one of the many within the forests and the seas that were whispering and praying...? No... no this voice was... directed at him... not as a request but as inquiring... no one would be able to see that unless... He lifted his eyes, dark and stormy and filled with tears that he was doing his best to suppress. His eyes, soft and amber in this moment, locked with the steadfast blue... blood... he could smell her injury. He could smell the sand of the arena and the stink of those shadows... She had been injured. She was here to seek his help? His befuddled mind could barely register that she might have found him to console him. As if forgetting his form, he twisted himself as he would have if he were a great beast like an elk or a horse, and moved to touch his horns to her injury. His eyes slid closed as they glowed a jade and the glow was echoed by the antlers that he was so well known for. Upon touching her skin, the light would envelope her as she was healed from her ordeal. She would find peace and rest here as long as she would need it. It was the least he could do for her suffering the event they had endured. Those creatures... and that... monster... of a woman and her servant. "... I am sorry I did not protect you and yours properly... I... did not... truly... take authority in the situation as I should have... I see that now. Please forgive the damage I have caused you." His voice was cracking and creeping as he spoke, his eyes down and dears slipping down onto the dirt. From those crystalline tears, beauty sprang up from the ground.  "All of you... are but children... and I have not been the father that you've needed in these hours of need... and yet... there is much I cannot yet..." he bit his lip as he heaved and shuddered in his attempts to control himself and continue to be lucid.
"...Forgive me... but... You ... should leave... I do not think I am... suitable company in this state and I... do not wish to burden the innocent..." he kept his eyes turned down in fear she would see weakness there... the desire to cling to another, even a mortal, in this moment when all the world seemed to be clamoring for his aid... But she was fragile... she was Brynne's own flower... he did not wish to crush her with his own selfish desires...
And despite his human appearance... he was a creature of nature. Of balance. Surely this would make him stronger. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2014 11:34:56 GMT -6
| The dissonance strikes her so supremely that Shetani's mouth feels thick and full of gauze. She is a nothing, a speck in the timeline of things; he is a God and he has seen, therefore, all the world; time stretches before him in a spiral and he is--so much more than she, than she will ever be; she is nothing but the daughter of a murderer and a thief, she's a cook, she's--and he is healing her. Shetani arches up as jade shimmers in his eyes and her back twists, because she can take a deep breath again, she can stretch her lungs; she does, once, twice, three times, and Shetani feels her hands beginning to shake.
"I--" What can she say? She knows loss. She saw it, too, saw the act of murder; and her blue eyes squeeze shut for a moment, before she twists forward, her arms looping gently, so gently, around his sides:
"Loss. It--it burns." She mumbles, softly, her throat thickening. Shetani can feel it, coming from him in what she can only describe as waves yet would not ever wish to describe; it is horror, to feel it, to realize that something so omnipotent--
The realization sweeps up her spine like a wave, and Shetani looks at Orik, tilts to stare into his eyes. It must be his first time feeling this loss. And if it isn't, it must be close to then: she'd never wish this upon a soul. So she mumbles, again. "It's like--it's a boulder. At the start. It pushes your chest and h-hurts. But--" Her hand, clumsily, forms into a fist and presses her chest. "W-with time, the boulder becomes, it...it dulls. It is slowly, slowly, turned into a little pebble. That pebble stays with you but over time it becomes...nearly bearable." Shetani slips her hands down to twine her fingers into his hands.
Beauty born of sorrow blooms as his tears fall, but Shetani holds his hands gently, a soft little smile crossing her face. "I--I've lost...when I was younger, I lost my family. I'm the only one, now. So I know about loss, and I know...I know it hurts, an--and pardon my hubris, but..." She gulps, swallows the lump in her throat. "I...I'm here. Everyone needs comfort when they've lost, when they're hurting--everyone."
Shetani can only hope she hasn't...crossed some line.
"I truly do not mind."
| tagged: | Orik |
"AND WHAT WORLD IS THIS?" "ONLY THE WORLD OF THOSE WHO ARE BEYOND YOU." |
TEMPLATE BY EDWARD |
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Post by Orik on Jul 16, 2014 13:59:07 GMT -6
As her arms slipped around his human form he felt his muscles tense and twitch at the uncommon feeling before slowly accepting the embrace. Her description of loss... the whole world echoed it back to him and it bubbled inside him with a truth so clear that it could have been the wind through his hair... It could have been him... it should have been him... he should have sensed it long before the foul murderess made her appearance... the death of something so strong was... it wasn't fathomable that Dym was stuffed out... and to think... he had died entirely alone... with no comfort that there would be justice and no ease in saying goodbye... Just gone.
His hands grasped her shoulders gently so that he could lever himself up with some bit of decorum rather than being a sniveling child. Though tears still pooled at his eyes he patted her head tenderly and leaned up to kiss her forehead in gratitude. His whole body was tremors... grief and fear... rage and pain... it was everywhere around him and it hurt so much. Not only his but so many others... Jag and Neviah, all of Aquavia and everyone who'd bore witness at the tournament. All of their emotions pooled in his heart and cried out for some kind of absolution that he was powerless to offer at this point. But they needed him.
He was a god. He had to be strong or he couldn't help anyone.
"...I am deeply sorry for your loss, little flower. You are very steadfast in this time and the Gods bless you for that. You are right... everyone right now is hurting... and because of who and what I am... I feel every tear... and hear every heated prayer and oath of vengeance... I smell the scorching of hearts and souls as Aquavia struggles with this new reality, and worse still I can taste the acrid bitterness of betrayal as so many think that we've abandoned them... I have not abandoned my children... but I cannot... this is just... it is... an oak tree is meant to be strong but this... this is fire in my very chest... It might yet consume me..."
"I truly do not mind."
He laid his forehead on her shoulder, feeling his antlers rub through her hair gently and took a few deep breaths. His nose took in the scent of her, her sincerity and her altruism. It was a nice smell... the smell of moss growing near a spring, thick and cool... The sound of a thicket, full of soft summer song, was her breathing and heartbeat. She was a flower. This flower was not his to burden... and yet...
"... Never before... have I witnessed a foe that had the ability... to do what was done today... to take from our world... one of the pillars that kept it sound and safe... We all protect each other... and I have trusted Dym with many of my cares..." His arms slowly made their way around the young woman's waist and his palms laid flat against the back of her ribs, just a gentle pressure, nothing that she could not move away from as if he were afraid he would break her.
"...I have failed... I have failed Dym and Aquavia and all the world I swore to protect. I do not... I cannot understand..." His voice grew more and more broken as he went, his body trembling with the weight of his own pain as well as what he believed was the entire world's. "... How did this happen without even an inkling...? What did Dym see to pursue these creatures that I cannot? I do not yet know... how to destroy this... monster of depravity..." Even as he spoke, he would slip into ancient tongues and deep animal whines of mourning as he slowly lost concept of one form or another... and with his eyes closed and with someone so close... it was far easier to let the waters of his feelings rush forward.
Perhaps it was time... for the oak tree to take on a speaker at long last... even though it was... difficult for him to ever do so because of his nature. He wanted to be there when his people needed him... when his children needed him... but he did not want his power to overshadow their freedom unless it was ... no... this wasn't the time to think of that... it wasn't time to mention that... that was something... that needed to be hidden more than ever before...
...which made it all the harder to rely on anyone else...
But the warmth of this child's breath... the softness of her skin and heart... the sweetness of her spirit...
...He would bless her if she were not already chosen. That her spirit would guide her to him in his moment of weakness... He would find a way to make her life more blessed. Someday.
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