Jude
Without losing a piece of me
How do I get to heaven?
He had not seen the smoldering emptiness that Jude was, an aftermath of a cataclysm with nothing but ash stained eyes. He was a soul forced to inhabit a rotting corpse of a body that he could feel rotting in around him. Flame bathed him and tore sinew from his frame and that was all his prince had seen, the mended body that had been broken down by another. Obsession creeps into his bones and he can’t shake the need to see Isorath at least one last time to quiet the roar of his heart. Jude can feel his pessimism settle and tenderly kiss the bitter tears that fall from his eyes. What had he been thinking so recklessly leaving home? He wonders if his orchids have withered and turned brown in the sunlight. Somehow the idea of his flowers dying only feeds into his heartache and the tears only seem to fall more violently than before, striking the ground.
Jude doesn’t see him. He doesn’t see the north star that he has been chasing descend, too caught up in the fit of self pity and emotion. Tangles of hair hide his face from the light of the sun and it isn’t until there’s a voice breaks through the noise of his crying. His head lifts and the hair falls away. There’s a pain in his chest and his heart plummets as he catches the image of white. This must be some sickening game of this place, some conjuring of his desperate mind. Fear settles in and he forces himself to his feet, turning to face that white light he never thought he’d see again. Some part of him wants to charge into Isorath’s embrace, to throw himself down and weep into his chest but it’s still too good to be true. Anxiety grips him and he finds himself frozen in place as the tears still fall.
Words get caught in his throat and he suffocates. He opens his mouth only a choked noise comes out, a garbed nothing that can’t even begin to articulate. Jude shifts his tail and clamps his mouth shut as he tries to find a way to speak. All there is is the echo of the ocean and the roar of the tide in his ears.
“Isorath,” he whispers when the words at last fall from his lips. “.. I.. Yes.. It’s me Jude.” He watches the stallion he met in a time that feels eons ago. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
"a second option."
This styling is also nice for some non-obtrusive OOC credits, wordcount or banter. Don't forget that divider up there.
Without losing a piece of me
How do I get to heaven?
He had not seen the smoldering emptiness that Jude was, an aftermath of a cataclysm with nothing but ash stained eyes. He was a soul forced to inhabit a rotting corpse of a body that he could feel rotting in around him. Flame bathed him and tore sinew from his frame and that was all his prince had seen, the mended body that had been broken down by another. Obsession creeps into his bones and he can’t shake the need to see Isorath at least one last time to quiet the roar of his heart. Jude can feel his pessimism settle and tenderly kiss the bitter tears that fall from his eyes. What had he been thinking so recklessly leaving home? He wonders if his orchids have withered and turned brown in the sunlight. Somehow the idea of his flowers dying only feeds into his heartache and the tears only seem to fall more violently than before, striking the ground.
Jude doesn’t see him. He doesn’t see the north star that he has been chasing descend, too caught up in the fit of self pity and emotion. Tangles of hair hide his face from the light of the sun and it isn’t until there’s a voice breaks through the noise of his crying. His head lifts and the hair falls away. There’s a pain in his chest and his heart plummets as he catches the image of white. This must be some sickening game of this place, some conjuring of his desperate mind. Fear settles in and he forces himself to his feet, turning to face that white light he never thought he’d see again. Some part of him wants to charge into Isorath’s embrace, to throw himself down and weep into his chest but it’s still too good to be true. Anxiety grips him and he finds himself frozen in place as the tears still fall.
Words get caught in his throat and he suffocates. He opens his mouth only a choked noise comes out, a garbed nothing that can’t even begin to articulate. Jude shifts his tail and clamps his mouth shut as he tries to find a way to speak. All there is is the echo of the ocean and the roar of the tide in his ears.
“Isorath,” he whispers when the words at last fall from his lips. “.. I.. Yes.. It’s me Jude.” He watches the stallion he met in a time that feels eons ago. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
"a second option."
This styling is also nice for some non-obtrusive OOC credits, wordcount or banter. Don't forget that divider up there.
