IP: 67.142.161.28
Posted on March 5, 2012 at 00:25:31 AM by myrddin
best you could have attained,
Myrddin
Male
21 – He is actually ancient, but started out new on Shaman.
Kate
Meticulously clean, bony and poised. Porcelain toned skin, ruddy cheeks, and big hazel eyes that are noticeably owlish. His hair is a gold tinted brunette and is usually cut short, he still isn’t used to actually having to cut his hair – the entire idea seems absurd.
She came slowly, like a piece of fog drifting down the hillside, toward him. Her eyes burning blue like the fire kindling inside her bones. She was everything he had created her to be: a vile, bitter shell of carefully orchestrated magic.
Maybe it should have surprised the periwinkle magician, but it didn’t in the slightest. He had known from the day of her miraculous conception, when he pulled her out of his very mind that she would come back for him. The stallion merely chuckles as he watches her come, her navy ears pinned against her haughtily crafted head and her bottom lip slack. He had named her Animal, he had given her a piece of his magical abilities, and how had she thanked him? By hating him for the past hundred or so years, following his coattails, and wanting to get inside his head.
She was a mistake, he would admit that.
As the mare leveled out in the valley he could see her changing, the rippling effect as her entire body wet completely invisible; oh, but the magician knew she was not invisible, merely camouflaged. That had been her greatest source of power, to be able to change her color at will and to teleport herself to various locations; she would never be as powerful as him. As she approached he could see, with his violet eyes, the rippling of the world and he smiles toothily.
“Come to get your revenge on dear old daddy?” He shakes his head, silver forelock falling into his wizened eyes. He is earth and sky and wind, he has been everything and has seen everything – she is not the first who has tried to kill him. Sergius looks pointedly at the mare as she shifts into an angry red; her eyes still the same cold blue as before. Animal flicks an ear at him, her tail whipping at her bony sides as she tries to decipher what exactly is going on between them.
“Let me tell you this, daughter, you’ll only win if I let you.” There’s a hint of sarcasm to his voice, dark and sickly sweet. He knows she was never meant to be a child, never meant to fill any sort of void in his cold heart – he had made her out of boredom and need for an apprentice. She wasn’t anything more or less.
“It’s not for you to decide what happens, father. There are gods above and below, they decide.” The mare simmers down to magenta, her face stoic and unreadable. She’s grown hollow to his remarks and advances, he no longer stings her like he used to. She knew that if the fiery god of the North wanted the periwinkle magician dead he would have done it himself, it was a disappointing thought.
The mare watches her maker with a steely grip, her muscles tense and her jaw clenched. He’s just standing there blowing smoke rings from his nose, relaxed and unafraid. It’s more than she can take.
Animal vanishes.
Sergius sighs.
In the blind of an eye she appears just behind him, rearing on her hind feet and pawing out with mouth open. The sky is dark, cloudy.
He remembers the feel of her teeth, thousands of lifetimes flashing before his blood filled eyes, and then there was the sound of the ocean.
**************
Myrddin – that’s his name now.
He raises his head up off the sand, rubbing at his left temple because he feels a migraine coming on. There is something weak about this body, two skinny legs and two frail arms.
Carefully he gets up, wiping sand and mud from his trousers. He remembers dying; the sour taste is still in the back of his mouth. Clenching a fist he spins around, brows furrowed and mouth puckered as he surveys the world around; a world entirely new.
“Animal!” He screams into the clear sky, he spits blood and pieces of a molar onto the sand. He stomps up and down the shore, the salty water washing up around his bony ankles. “Animal!” He curses again, this time setting a flock of bizarre looking birds into frenzy out of the nearby palms.
With a growl he rubs his face.
It’s another lifetime. It’s another growing up.
Myrdinn trudges back out of the water; he sinks onto the sand and watches coldly as the waves lap onto the shore. He’s is a new creature, there’s nothing to be done about it. Quickly he tries using his magic to no avail, it’s gone, all of it. Shivering and wet he lies down on the sand again, watches the never changing sky with a look of utter disgust on his face.
“You win, huh? Happy now, Animal, or are you still a miserable piece of horse meat?” He chuckles loudly, maniacally, fist pounding the sand.
Male
21 – He is actually ancient, but started out new on Shaman.
Kate
Meticulously clean, bony and poised. Porcelain toned skin, ruddy cheeks, and big hazel eyes that are noticeably owlish. His hair is a gold tinted brunette and is usually cut short, he still isn’t used to actually having to cut his hair – the entire idea seems absurd.
She came slowly, like a piece of fog drifting down the hillside, toward him. Her eyes burning blue like the fire kindling inside her bones. She was everything he had created her to be: a vile, bitter shell of carefully orchestrated magic.
Maybe it should have surprised the periwinkle magician, but it didn’t in the slightest. He had known from the day of her miraculous conception, when he pulled her out of his very mind that she would come back for him. The stallion merely chuckles as he watches her come, her navy ears pinned against her haughtily crafted head and her bottom lip slack. He had named her Animal, he had given her a piece of his magical abilities, and how had she thanked him? By hating him for the past hundred or so years, following his coattails, and wanting to get inside his head.
She was a mistake, he would admit that.
As the mare leveled out in the valley he could see her changing, the rippling effect as her entire body wet completely invisible; oh, but the magician knew she was not invisible, merely camouflaged. That had been her greatest source of power, to be able to change her color at will and to teleport herself to various locations; she would never be as powerful as him. As she approached he could see, with his violet eyes, the rippling of the world and he smiles toothily.
“Come to get your revenge on dear old daddy?” He shakes his head, silver forelock falling into his wizened eyes. He is earth and sky and wind, he has been everything and has seen everything – she is not the first who has tried to kill him. Sergius looks pointedly at the mare as she shifts into an angry red; her eyes still the same cold blue as before. Animal flicks an ear at him, her tail whipping at her bony sides as she tries to decipher what exactly is going on between them.
“Let me tell you this, daughter, you’ll only win if I let you.” There’s a hint of sarcasm to his voice, dark and sickly sweet. He knows she was never meant to be a child, never meant to fill any sort of void in his cold heart – he had made her out of boredom and need for an apprentice. She wasn’t anything more or less.
“It’s not for you to decide what happens, father. There are gods above and below, they decide.” The mare simmers down to magenta, her face stoic and unreadable. She’s grown hollow to his remarks and advances, he no longer stings her like he used to. She knew that if the fiery god of the North wanted the periwinkle magician dead he would have done it himself, it was a disappointing thought.
The mare watches her maker with a steely grip, her muscles tense and her jaw clenched. He’s just standing there blowing smoke rings from his nose, relaxed and unafraid. It’s more than she can take.
Animal vanishes.
Sergius sighs.
In the blind of an eye she appears just behind him, rearing on her hind feet and pawing out with mouth open. The sky is dark, cloudy.
He remembers the feel of her teeth, thousands of lifetimes flashing before his blood filled eyes, and then there was the sound of the ocean.
Myrddin – that’s his name now.
He raises his head up off the sand, rubbing at his left temple because he feels a migraine coming on. There is something weak about this body, two skinny legs and two frail arms.
Carefully he gets up, wiping sand and mud from his trousers. He remembers dying; the sour taste is still in the back of his mouth. Clenching a fist he spins around, brows furrowed and mouth puckered as he surveys the world around; a world entirely new.
“Animal!” He screams into the clear sky, he spits blood and pieces of a molar onto the sand. He stomps up and down the shore, the salty water washing up around his bony ankles. “Animal!” He curses again, this time setting a flock of bizarre looking birds into frenzy out of the nearby palms.
With a growl he rubs his face.
It’s another lifetime. It’s another growing up.
Myrdinn trudges back out of the water; he sinks onto the sand and watches coldly as the waves lap onto the shore. He’s is a new creature, there’s nothing to be done about it. Quickly he tries using his magic to no avail, it’s gone, all of it. Shivering and wet he lies down on the sand again, watches the never changing sky with a look of utter disgust on his face.
“You win, huh? Happy now, Animal, or are you still a miserable piece of horse meat?” He chuckles loudly, maniacally, fist pounding the sand.
myrddin.
Replies:
- accepted - By Merlin March 5, 2012 at 01:29:55 AM
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