3 Year Old
Stallion
None of
Aurum
7 posts
Played by Kezz
Offline
ossian
Crownless
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Mar 26, 2016 15:39:50 GMT -6
Post by ossian on Mar 26, 2016 15:39:50 GMT -6
I must lie down in the foul rag and bone shop of MY heart. • Darkness felt like home, more than anything or anyone ever had. He could not thoroughly define the calm which settled deep in the marrow of his bones come nightfall, but he supposed it mattered not, for to whom would he relay this determination to? Ossian had always worn solitude well; it suited him. In the company of others his fluid saunter became a stifled and stilted crawl - gentle breath hitching, spiderleg eyelashes sweeping against high marble cheekbones. The cause? Not nerves - no, Ossian was not an anxious man, instead such perturbed mannerisms lay at the hands of something written deeply into his design. He was made of wintry starlit skies, of northern lights set upon the mountainside, of the ocean and all it's aphotic depth; he was an illustration of isolation, and upon his face lay the etchings of what came to pass when his seclusion was breached, plundered, infected. Ossian did not often think back to the scar's origin; it brought only a hangover of malice and regret, and oh how hard he had fought to wash such states away. Vast liquid-gold eyes studied the mist, a haunted smile clawing at the edges of his mouth - but it died before it had even begun, and onwards he moved - onwards into night.
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6 Year Old
Stallion
- of
Obsidian Stronghold
Aurum
21 posts
Played by SPACED
Offline
Rhaskos
Kairosian
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Mar 30, 2016 1:02:51 GMT -6
Post by Rhaskos on Mar 30, 2016 1:02:51 GMT -6
In darkness Rhaskos felt invisible - a wraith that meant little to nothing to anyone and anything. He was easily forgotten, a shadow of strength and forgotten legacies, haunted always by the success of his siblings and the disappointment of an absent father. Too often he told himself otherwise, too often he had to struggle to find himself amongst the belligerent and aggressive thoughts of self-loathing. It was a hidden flaw within himself, that unending fear that he would never amount to much. It was difficult to keep such thoughts away when he travelled alone through the night, nobody to protect - no lover, no friends, no family. He sighed, a sharp huff of air meant to expel the loneliness - moving all but silently, never as graceful or beautiful as his siblings, but just as skilled. Rhaskos was beautiful, but not in the delicate, avian way of siblings. Muscles lined his thick, broad shoulders and his jaw was hewn of rough granite rather than satin. His eyes may have glowed aureate in the night, but they did not gleam with that sharp intelligence and nor did his tongue slip like silver. Rather, he was silent and stoic... and alone in the night.
Mist made him a silver cloak, and as such it was he that saw the other man first. A sharp intake of breath followed - for the man looked so similar to an old friend that Rhaskos had to squint. This was not Ixion, though they could have been brothers. They seemed to share the haunted set of their shoulders, though, and it was this that made Rhaskos haltingly move forward - his baritone voice echoing through the silent night;
"- Wait."
He could think of nothing better to say and fell silent, sure that the man would scorn him and continue on... and perhaps it was for the best. Nobody made friends at midnight.
doc; ossian kezz bae <3
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