Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

Live through this ~~lie~~
Posted on March 19, 2018 at 08:51:55 PM by S H A M WARI

Was I left behind?
Tell me, tell me I survived.

The chill of autumn sends a shiver down my spine. I shudder briefly in the aftermath of the bitter cold. It's a reminder of just how woefully unprepared I am for winter. Back home, Paradiso continues to try to maintain any sort of semblance of normalcy. Evaline and Vita Nova are playing along. I know they are worried. One day, I'll come to thank them for how they rallied behind me. But not today. Today, all I feel is numb and exhausted. It's Jabari whom I should be worried for, but I'm too consumed in my own fog to give him the attention he deserves. Maybe I'll come to appreciate Evaline and Vita Nova and Paradiso for hopefully filling that role, too.

All I can focus on is what's in front of me now, and even if that is a chore. My brain keeps bringing me back to Bri. To the memories I have of us together, to that final, fatal image of her lifeless body. It is a constant exercise to restrain my thoughts. It's tiresome. It's a battle I know I won't win. But I have to keep trying, if I ever want to pull myself out of this hellhole. So tonight, I focus on the waves. My dark, brown eyes are wide and solemn. I watch the barely visible white-churned water as it crests over itself, and laps at the damp sand near my chipped hooves. It's methodical and quiet. It's dependable, at least for now, on a calm and cool night on the Crossing Isle.

I know she's there, in the distance, but I keep my eyes trained on the waves ahead of me. I only divert my gaze at the sound of her soft coos. At first they're only that, tones and pitches that are gentle in the night. As she approaches, a brilliant, illuminated being that goes so sadly unappreciated, nearly unnoticed in my current state, I realize that she is speaking in words I cannot discern. She's speaking in an entirely other language. For a second I am lost in my thoughts, trying to remember if she did, in fact, speak to me on the night we had met before. I cannot remember. I should feel guilty about this, but all feeling had been robbed from me. I had nothing left to give to anybody else.

Still, her voice is nice. The exotic tones, the way she flicks her tongue and twitches her lips is mesmerizing. It is comforting even, whether she means it to be or not. I lazily watch her body as she speaks to me, and approaches in vague familiarity. I nicker again, inviting her in, if she so chooses. It feels oddly assuaging being near her again. I don't want her to leave, but I'm not sure how to tell her that. I stare blankly at her as she fidgets. It seems the communication barrier is more frustrating for her in this moment. One copper-colored ear lobe flicks forward and then the other, and even my heavy cranium perks up with slight interest as I try to make out what it is that she wants. A red tail flicks across my haunches in anticipation.

Then words emerge from her lips that make sense. "I wait here." I stare at her stiffly for a moment, waiting to see if others will tumble out to complete the thought. "Wait with you," she says. It drives a sudden melancholy response to the forefront of my mind. "You'll be waiting a long time then." I grumble back hoarsely, as if I don't care if she understands me or not. But I do care. This mare, whom I cannot even speak freely with, has stirred the most emotional response from me in weeks. Her kindness, her ability to register something in me is pulling desperately at something inside of me that I'm not sure I'm ready to hand over to someone else. But the fact that she waits is enough. I offer her a sheepish grin, perhaps undetected in the shadows of the dark night, before she moves closer to touch me. The velvet-softness of her nose against my chest shoots a chill down my spine. And if only for a moment, I'm alive again. My barrel rises suddenly and my nostrils flare. I gasp for air as suddenly as if I were drowning.

My eyes are bright, and I'm studying her curiously now. "Darshan." I repeat, in understanding. Then I arch my own neck to meet my nose against hers. I breathe in deeply, taking in her scent. She is not my Bright Eyes. She doesn't look like her, nor act like her. But like Bri, she sees me. She feels me. And she doesn't need shared words to do so. As we pull a part my attention is fully on her. I am the most alert I've been in weeks. "Shamwari." I saw aloud, hoping she will commit it to memory. "I am Shamwari."

ooc: omg your post gave me chills! I'm obsessed with Darshan <3 <3 <3 <3

Replies:

May there always be victory - By DARSHAN March 23, 2018 at 12:35:30 PM
- Live through this ~~lie~~ - By S H A M WARI March 27, 2018 at 10:00:49 PM
  - May there always be victory - By DARSHAN April 5, 2018 at 01:27:19 PM
    - Live through this ~~lie~~ - By S H A M WARI April 11, 2018 at 09:17:11 PM

Post a reply:

Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:

Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post: