Posted on July 28, 2012 at 03:41:52 PM by S A I N T J I M M Y ;
 Today he looks every minute of the eight years he has languished away in turning tides of acceptance, power, and exile. Even his usually genial face, with the forever smile dancing beneath the surface, appears weather-worn and hard pressed for any bit of gentleness the lord usually possesses. Perhaps his wandering - through lands of fire, snow, and water alike - are finally beginning to deteriorate his iron-clad bones. Not likely, in all honesty, but perhaps today is simply the one where the snake of overexertion has come to rear that ugly diamond head. And this is how he appears, nose curled to thick breast, as he fights his way against the grainy bite of the sand storm taking flight all around. Even his feet, ever sturdy and true, falter as the ground beneath shifts and takes flight with scant a moment's notice. Exasperation fills those bottomless black eyes, and the heavy snort that shakes the whole body of this man is lost to the sound of the whispering wind. Unfortunately, as the storm builds, so does my iron-lord's usually docile temper. How the gods have forsaken him, to deposit him within this arid wasteland so shortly after his rebirth from the vast depths of the sea. Onward he goes, for he has never been one to become victim to the never-ending avalanche of backsliding. He does not believe in returning to what you left behind. Though I must admit, that is mainly because all the ones that remain where he once stood have fallen to nothing more than shadows whose milky bones litter the open land and damp graves with no discrimination. This is no boast of his war feats - he would not leave behind a graveyard so willingly. In saying this, I encourage you to not bestow the title of coward to this man's head. He has seen his episodes of war, yet he was always the one to champion for peace. He may be a fighter, but only when forced, and even that makes him no less of a man. No - the bones that haunt him are those of his beloved, the ones he let down. And if you knew Jimmy as I do, you would know that he cannot forgive himself of his self-proclaimed traitorous actions. For every breath he has ever taken has been filled with the need for valor and honor; for the chance to protect the weak and become the rescuer of the downtrodden. Yet all he has accomplished is rendering their bones to be picked cleaned by dogs and crows alike, with the sun to bleach the skeletons for eternity, lest the ground claim them and the worms carve them away first. The gods have forsaken me as their justice, and I deserve not one day of suffering less than what they intend to give. Silly boy, you punish yourself for deeds caused by other men, that could not have been stopped even if a thousand noble knights opposed those disgusting horrors long past. A toss of his head and a pinning of the ears shakes the sand from his face, allowing his forelock to create a temporary ebony screen across his eyes. A low gasp dispels from his lips unknowingly as he finds himself falling - a headfirst tumble into a sunken hollow in the waste. The gods must be laughing, for it is now that the storm ceases, with my storm-cloud man hunkered in the valley of a dune like a frightened child. When he as regained his composure, long legs unfold beneath him and demand that noble body to rise once more. And rise he does, out of the hole, to stand as a stone sentry of a small rise. Here he shall wait, and venture no more, for the scent of a lord long-present in the lands has reached his nostrils. While Jimmy may be valiant and headstrong, he has enough years upon his back to understand when he has wandered into another man's home. Thus, he remains still, with all the time in the world to await the arrival of this unseen lord. "speech"; thoughts; post [word count: 688] HTML, Character, & Posts Copyright Kelelen. |
Replies:
- Let there be fire. - By BADR July 31, 2012 at 10:08:32 PM
- x. - By badr August 28, 2012 at 08:21:44 PM
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