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+---- Thread: [AW] i like myself (most of the time) (/showthread.php?tid=4518)
i like myself (most of the time) - Ismene - 01-07-2020
to be upside down is a fine way to be  Ismene liked to play games, even if it was with her own life. The frigid winter winds had whipped the ocean's waves into a frenzy. Whitecaps crashed on the sands, each one louder than the last. The small pegasus stared out over the waves with keen yellow eyes - the cold winds sliced right through her winter coat and even split some of her smaller feathers. Her breath came out in great clouds. For a moment she was astounded that her lungs could hold all that steam before it was snatched away by the wind. She'd been running her own private "tests" for a while now, ever since her father had passed away. It was borderline madness. It was suicidal. The Halcyon, her heart chittering somewhere between her mouth and ribcage, took to the skies. Easy, easy, easy... Flying was second nature to the unit. They prized calm in difficult situations. They were unshakable. Ismene hovered a few feet above the waves, flapping her wings gracelessly every few moments to stay aloft. She was trying to fly against the breeze - probably more foolish than anything else she was about to attempt, especially for a weakling like herself. Which was why she needed to train. Harsh conditions, stress, dangerous gambits: a regular Halcyon could fly in all conditions. Exhaling another cloud of breath, Ismene struck out across the shallow water. She soared low over the waves, her rear hooves occasionally grazing the water and cutting a small wake. Just as she was about to turn back towards shore, satisfied with her small progress, the wind picked up. It dragged on her wings and blew her backwards. Further out to sea now than she'd ever intended, Izzie's eyes widened in her terror. No, no, no-no-no-fuck! With a final burst of strength and fluttering-flapping-artless flying, she managed to close in on the shoreline just before her wings - and then her legs - locked up. Only a few feet above the shallow water wasn't a particularly long way to fall but it felt like an eternity while she was stuck in her own mind. The episode only lasted until she hit the water, but by the time the cold ocean enveloped her, her wings were waterlogged and difficult to manage. She had landed just shy of where she would have been able to grab purchase with her hooves. Ismene floundered in the shallow water doing her very best impression of the world's worst shorebird. Swallowing her pride, unwilling to call for help, she resigned herself to death. That's what she deserved for straying so far to practice in secret - it was a big idiot move. Which you are. Idiot. And now you're going to be a dead idiot, idiot. |
RE: i like myself (most of the time) - Aeranas - 01-07-2020
We'll leave this empty room, into the air we'll climb
The sea called to him once more, she kept beckoning for him to return for a visit. She ached for his stories so that she could sweep them away, into her depths. Aearanas spilled his sorrows to her, for he could speak them aloud to another living soul. The great weight of loss was still heavy upon the ghost's slender shoulders. Aeranas hunkered down into the gentle blue boa wrapped around his nape. It kept the biting wind away from his sensitive, porcelain face. He listened to the sea whisper sweet nothings to him, as he paid little mind to his surroundings. It was a kind of meditation for him to traipse the shoreline of Novus. He had been to Delumine, and Terrastella and back thus far. It was an invisible path that he walked on, but it would be worn someday by his hooves. It was not until he noticed a sound that interrupted the wind and the whispers of the sea that he looked out into her vast horizon. The small frame of a pegasus was weaving over the rolling waves of the winter sea. Her wings were the colour of dark storm clouds against a gentle gray sky. Her bodice was finely chiseled marble, like his own. Upon her visage, she wore a mask of red that dripped into her mane. The storm clouds of her wings drifted into the banner trailing behind her. Aeranas had paused all his movements to watch and admire the pegasus who could kiss the very sky she was made of.
A blustering gale was exhaled from the invisible maw of the sea, and it knocked the small pegasus backward. Aeranas felt the familiar spike of panic that began to surge through every inch of his body. It surged and surged until he saw her regain some semblance of control, but his heart did not quiet. There was a warning in the whispers the sea spilled across her shoreline like the scattering of stars in the night sky. She struggled toward the shallow ends of the ocean, and then she plummeted like his stomach. Aeranas did not think before he was moving towards her. The bird that the sky had thrust into the unforgiving and greedy sea that he loved so dearly. The sea was no friend of the birds. The ghost let his limbs extend as long as they could, his muscles protested at the sudden movements he'd made. Even his beloved scarf could not keep him warm when the winter sea sank her fangs into his pale flesh. The bird made of storms was not far out, not as far as the gust had knocked her back. She struggled, but he thought it to be a half-hearted attempt. Concern surged through him as he fought the frigid, immovable sea. Aeranas did not stop until he reached the struggling woman, his long limbs allowed him to reach where she could not. His body trembled in the frigid water, the sea would not forgive him for plucking her prey from her maw.
Aeranas reached out to grab onto her, any place that he could take a hold of as she struggled and thrashed against the churning winter sea. He could feel his panic rising, he feared he would not be able to help her. Aerie was not ready to write another story of sorrow, the sea would not listen to this one. Tears had begun to drip into the sea as his heart raced on. Aeranas realized he would be unable to help her by trying to drag her, he was not a soldier. His lanky limbs were good for nothing but holding up his lithe frame. He dove beneath the waves, beneath her. The winter sea bombarded his face with her frigid breath, and when he resurfaced. If she had not moved, she would be able to sling herself across the broad side of his back. Then he could carry her back to the shore with ease.
A blustering gale was exhaled from the invisible maw of the sea, and it knocked the small pegasus backward. Aeranas felt the familiar spike of panic that began to surge through every inch of his body. It surged and surged until he saw her regain some semblance of control, but his heart did not quiet. There was a warning in the whispers the sea spilled across her shoreline like the scattering of stars in the night sky. She struggled toward the shallow ends of the ocean, and then she plummeted like his stomach. Aeranas did not think before he was moving towards her. The bird that the sky had thrust into the unforgiving and greedy sea that he loved so dearly. The sea was no friend of the birds. The ghost let his limbs extend as long as they could, his muscles protested at the sudden movements he'd made. Even his beloved scarf could not keep him warm when the winter sea sank her fangs into his pale flesh. The bird made of storms was not far out, not as far as the gust had knocked her back. She struggled, but he thought it to be a half-hearted attempt. Concern surged through him as he fought the frigid, immovable sea. Aeranas did not stop until he reached the struggling woman, his long limbs allowed him to reach where she could not. His body trembled in the frigid water, the sea would not forgive him for plucking her prey from her maw.
Aeranas reached out to grab onto her, any place that he could take a hold of as she struggled and thrashed against the churning winter sea. He could feel his panic rising, he feared he would not be able to help her. Aerie was not ready to write another story of sorrow, the sea would not listen to this one. Tears had begun to drip into the sea as his heart raced on. Aeranas realized he would be unable to help her by trying to drag her, he was not a soldier. His lanky limbs were good for nothing but holding up his lithe frame. He dove beneath the waves, beneath her. The winter sea bombarded his face with her frigid breath, and when he resurfaced. If she had not moved, she would be able to sling herself across the broad side of his back. Then he could carry her back to the shore with ease.
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RE: i like myself (most of the time) - Ismene - 01-07-2020
to be upside down is a fine way to be Pale seafoam lifted her aloft on its strong, warm back. Ismene was too scatter-brained and terrified to question the sudden presence beneath her. She was only grateful, grateful, grateful. Maybe she had been ready to throw her life away, but the sea had said no, or rather, not today. Once she was borne upon the ocean's - Aeranas' - back, she tried to make herself as small and lift as possible. The water helped to buoy her heavy, oceanlogged wings until his much taller frame dragged her back into the cold air. She had been here before, carried safely on a back. The memory of her father made her heart clench as if a fist had grabbed it tightly and tried to wring it of all warmth. This would have made him so terribly sad. Ismene cried, her salty tears mixing soundlessly with the briny water that soaked her through. Perhaps he could feel her wracking sobs as he brought her to the shore but she did not make a sound. Once they had arrived safely on the sand, Izzie wriggled off of his back and to the shore. She stumbled like a newborn. Her legs were rubbery and unfamiliar, chilled through to the bone. As she struggled to get back to her hooves, she craned her head back to take a look at him. Her split mane was wet and half-covered her eyes, but her first impression was: tall. So tall. From the ground she had to crane her neck in such a way that her muscles began to complain just to get a good look at him. Slowly she floundered to her feet, casting cold sand every which way as her wings righted themselves. Once she was standing tall the very tips of her ears were just about even with her withers. "Thank you," she coughed, seawater dribbling out of her mouth. Disgusting. Izzie turned away, hacking a deep cough. There was an itch in her throat that she couldn't quite clear. It was probably just residual panic. "I'm sorry," she added, the platitude small and pointless on her lips. Sorry for what? She wasn't sure, but it felt good to say, like scratching a not-quite healed wound. Equal parts pain and necessity. "I'm Ismene," she mumbled, trudging further from the ocean both to put distance between herself and the beast that had swallowed her and to collect her things. With some difficulty, she nosed her satchel over her head. It felt better to have it on. The weight was familiar. "And... and thank you," Izzie sputtered again, unsure what else there was to say. Thank you, you've seen me at my very most stupid and vulnerable. We are now indelibly linked. You will probably ask uncomfortable questions, or worse, chastise me. Her eyes were screwed up, stinging from salt. There had to be somewhere they could retreat out of the cold and wind. The coastline was dotted with coves and caves, but she stood there lamely, peering up at him with curiosity. He must be kind, to brave the bracingly cold water. She liked kind. |
RE: i like myself (most of the time) - Aeranas - 01-07-2020
We'll leave this empty room, into the air we'll climb
She nestled atop his back, clung to it. He could feel the fear in her bodice when she clambered atop his back. Aeranas did not dare move until he was sure she was secure, he would not lose her to the sea. No matter how dear a friend the sea was, she would not take something from him that he did not give her. His heart shattered when he felt her body begin to tremble with sobs. He understood. The ghost did not stop his movements until they were both back upon the shore until they were both cold and numb with exhaustion. Aeranas felt her slide off of his back when they reached the firm ground. The stranger stumbled unsteadily, he reached out to instinctively steady her. The bird made of storms righted herself, but she was shaken. Her wings drooped at her sides, and she appeared forlorn. Tired. The expression was carved into her face, but she was breathing and walking. Relief flooded through Aerie, long enough for him to forget that his fur was freezing, as were the creases of the scarf that was securely fastened around his nape. The ghost peered down at her when she craned her neck to peer up at his shivering form. Words of thanks rushed from her mouth, they too were sad. Aeranas still found himself worried about her.
There was something unusual about the encounter, about her half-hearted fight with the winter sea. The ghost grew suspicious of her actions, or rather inactions. These thoughts were kept quiet, they could be pulled from his vast pools of memory. The ghost tried hard not to forget. Seawater slipped from her maw when she apologized, and he again instinctively reached out with his muzzle to brush it away. Doting. Aeranas was attentive, he wanted to reassure her that she was no burden to him. He was relieved that he was there to help her. The storyteller was at a loss for words, momentarily, his jaw felt as frozen as the rocks bound with ice. He shivered violently in the breeze, the sea was not ready to forgive him yet. Aeranas moved towards her, he seemed to keep himself in between her and the sea. As if the sea would rise up in retribution for his good deed. To reclaim her prey. The bird made of storms introduced herself as Ismene. Still, the ghost could not speak, he could only haunt her trail back towards her satchel. Ismene settled more and more as the time dragged on, he was still riding the adrenaline he had used to weather the cold maw of the sea. His face ached from the cold, and yet he persisted. He pried his lips apart, they had frozen shut when he emerged from the sea. She thanked him again, but he didn't want her to thank him.
Yet, he understood. "You are no burden, I do not need an apology. I would leap into the sea again without a second thought for you. I am relieved that you are okay... Ismene, are you okay?" Aerie could not keep the gnawing question from his mind any longer. He worried for her still, and his worries would not rest until he asked. The wonder he often found in life, that inspired his poetry, was absent. It was replaced with concern. Ismene peered up at him, she studied him. He could feel it. The ghost did not try to vanish before her eyes, no, he wanted to embrace this stranger to convey how relieved he was. Aeranas moved again, toward her to embrace her if she would not pull away. They could find shelter after. "Please be careful, you are a precious treasure, Ismene. You are the bird made of storms, the one who is daring but not invincible." He whispered to her gently, but they came out in sobs. Aeranas could not help it, his emotions caught up with him. He was not numb, and he ached to crawl back into the safety of that numbness.
Aeranas pulled back and peered down at Ismene. His tears began to subside, and he cast a glance away from his new companion. "I'm Aerie. We should get out of the cold. This way." He offered her, with a nod of his head. The maw of a cavern still hung slack from the cliff above. He had stopped inside the caves along the shore when the snow had gotten bad between Delumine and Terrastella.
There was something unusual about the encounter, about her half-hearted fight with the winter sea. The ghost grew suspicious of her actions, or rather inactions. These thoughts were kept quiet, they could be pulled from his vast pools of memory. The ghost tried hard not to forget. Seawater slipped from her maw when she apologized, and he again instinctively reached out with his muzzle to brush it away. Doting. Aeranas was attentive, he wanted to reassure her that she was no burden to him. He was relieved that he was there to help her. The storyteller was at a loss for words, momentarily, his jaw felt as frozen as the rocks bound with ice. He shivered violently in the breeze, the sea was not ready to forgive him yet. Aeranas moved towards her, he seemed to keep himself in between her and the sea. As if the sea would rise up in retribution for his good deed. To reclaim her prey. The bird made of storms introduced herself as Ismene. Still, the ghost could not speak, he could only haunt her trail back towards her satchel. Ismene settled more and more as the time dragged on, he was still riding the adrenaline he had used to weather the cold maw of the sea. His face ached from the cold, and yet he persisted. He pried his lips apart, they had frozen shut when he emerged from the sea. She thanked him again, but he didn't want her to thank him.
Yet, he understood. "You are no burden, I do not need an apology. I would leap into the sea again without a second thought for you. I am relieved that you are okay... Ismene, are you okay?" Aerie could not keep the gnawing question from his mind any longer. He worried for her still, and his worries would not rest until he asked. The wonder he often found in life, that inspired his poetry, was absent. It was replaced with concern. Ismene peered up at him, she studied him. He could feel it. The ghost did not try to vanish before her eyes, no, he wanted to embrace this stranger to convey how relieved he was. Aeranas moved again, toward her to embrace her if she would not pull away. They could find shelter after. "Please be careful, you are a precious treasure, Ismene. You are the bird made of storms, the one who is daring but not invincible." He whispered to her gently, but they came out in sobs. Aeranas could not help it, his emotions caught up with him. He was not numb, and he ached to crawl back into the safety of that numbness.
Aeranas pulled back and peered down at Ismene. His tears began to subside, and he cast a glance away from his new companion. "I'm Aerie. We should get out of the cold. This way." He offered her, with a nod of his head. The maw of a cavern still hung slack from the cliff above. He had stopped inside the caves along the shore when the snow had gotten bad between Delumine and Terrastella.
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RE: i like myself (most of the time) - Ismene - 01-08-2020
to be upside down is a fine way to be The phantom who had saved her wept openly. Ismene's already fragile heart couldn't take it - they cried together. The whipping winds tore at her feathers and at his scarf - he was wearing a scarf. Blinking back tears, Ismene focused on the brilliant shock of color draped around his neck. She stepped forward when he went to touch her and buried her face in the cold, wet scarf. Such tenderness given so freely... she felt safe. Warm, even against the bone-chilling cold. How could he be relieved that she was fine when he didn't know her? All of her faults, shortcomings, failures. Was a useless life saved something to be grateful for? Pushing the needling thoughts out of her head, Izzie let out a shaky sigh. Her adrenaline was coming down and as her heartbeat began to slow she felt even colder. "I am no bird. I am not daring," she rebutted, but her words felt weak and lame against his poetry. Perhaps she was daring, but she was no bird. Just a storm. Nervous energy and thunderous noises - no more and no less. Shelter sounded lovely. Willing her stone-heavy limbs to move, Ismene followed Aerie back to the relative shelter of one of the caves further away from the shore. It was safer from the storm but just barely. The wind still licked at the mouth of the cave fiercely. If she cocked her ears just right it sounded like a shrill whistle or a lady's distant scream. Shuddering, Ismene made her way deeper into the cavern until the shrieking wind was a more distant memory. She felt awful. Her waterlogged wings added pounds and pounds of weight to her body. Although her frame was stocky and delicate in equal turns, she would have found this extra weight difficult to bear in the best of conditions. "Pardon me," she murmured, then slowly folded her legs beneath herself until she lay in a huddled, dripping mess on the sandy floor of the cave. The quiet of the cave versus the noise of the beach outside was such a stark contrast that her ears rung faintly. Seawater dripped from her everywhere. Ismene felt like she'd never be dry again. |
RE: i like myself (most of the time) - Aeranas - 01-11-2020
We'll leave this empty room, into the air we'll climb
Aerie was surprised when she buried her face into his body, into the scarf his grandmother gave him. It still glowed with a warm, dull tone despite the fact that it was soaked. They had shared tears for a few moments before they made their way to the cave. She looked far more miserable than he was. Aerie had no wings, so he could not imagine what it was like. His flesh was frozen, but he would warm and dry much more quickly than Ismene. As they trailed toward the cavern, he kept his eyes focused upon the ground for anything he could use to start a fire. It was something he'd thankfully learned from the pirates who had ferried he and his grandmother into this new world far from home. The ghost gathered bits and pieces of things as they moved toward the cave. He found what he was looking for, thankful to have learned such a useful bit of knowledge. Aerie had been more focused on finding something to help warm and dry them, and so he did not respond to her denial of being daring. The ghost disagreed, but that could come later. Aeranas followed her into the cavern, she did not stop until they were deep in the belly of the cave. Where the stone turned to sand, and the howl of the wind could no longer be heard. He could feel the wind still, but he dared not start a fire so deep in the cavern.
Aeranas placed the items he'd gathered at a midway point between the sands where Ismene now lay, and the cavern. It was just close enough to the mouth of the gaping beast so that it might beckon the smoke away from them. It took him a few tries, but eventually, he started a small, but warm fire. His hope that the smoke would waft out of the cave had come true. He had placed it close enough no to smoke them both out of the cavern. Aeranas did not leave the fire's side until he was sure it would not go out quickly. Then he hung his scarf on a nearby rock to dry. It didn't take the scarf too long to dry usually, the material did not absorb water for too long. It is only then that he went to retrieve his companion. She was still resting upon the ground and he dropped his muzzle towards her nape, the gesture was as gentle as before. Aeranas then moved to rest beside her, in the hope that the warmth he'd gathered from the fire might be passed onto her. "Ismene, you are a very daring bird. If I had wings, the distance you flew at, above the sea? That is daunting. That is daring. You're free to disagree with me all you like, but that is the story I have written for you." He finally answered her, and silently hoped she would not pull away from him. He was still in shock about the whole incident.
Aerie was not surprised that he'd treated her like an old friend, that was how he treated everyone. He didn't care about others because he got something out of it, he simply cared. Life was precious, no matter who it was. "Why is it you flew out there? Why is it that you seemed as though you had resigned to give up before I jumped in?" Aerie asked her, there was not an ounce of judgment in his words. His pale rose gaze fell upon her, though he had to crane his neck to peer at her. Aearanas wanted her to warm up more than anything. "Do these dangerous trials make you feel alive? Are you one who will accept the consequences without a fight?" He asked her again because he wanted to understand.
Aerie cast his gaze down at the sand beneath them, he wondered if they should move beside the fire for now. It would probably warm them both up faster, he could not carry the heat of the fire with him for very long. "We should sit by the fire, we'll warm up faster that way." He tensed his muscles to stand, he moved in such a way that he would not disturb her. "And Ismene, if that is why you flew out there... Please don't do that again. I meant what I said about you. You are precious and even I, a stranger, care very deeply about you." He spoke, his eyes were sad but his words were no less genuine than before. Aerie waited for her to join him, if she refused to lie beside the fire then he would also deny it. Aerie did not want her to feel alone or frightened as he did now. It reminded him of the truth his grandmother had divulged to him before her passing. The world terrified him, but he had to keep going.
Aeranas placed the items he'd gathered at a midway point between the sands where Ismene now lay, and the cavern. It was just close enough to the mouth of the gaping beast so that it might beckon the smoke away from them. It took him a few tries, but eventually, he started a small, but warm fire. His hope that the smoke would waft out of the cave had come true. He had placed it close enough no to smoke them both out of the cavern. Aeranas did not leave the fire's side until he was sure it would not go out quickly. Then he hung his scarf on a nearby rock to dry. It didn't take the scarf too long to dry usually, the material did not absorb water for too long. It is only then that he went to retrieve his companion. She was still resting upon the ground and he dropped his muzzle towards her nape, the gesture was as gentle as before. Aeranas then moved to rest beside her, in the hope that the warmth he'd gathered from the fire might be passed onto her. "Ismene, you are a very daring bird. If I had wings, the distance you flew at, above the sea? That is daunting. That is daring. You're free to disagree with me all you like, but that is the story I have written for you." He finally answered her, and silently hoped she would not pull away from him. He was still in shock about the whole incident.
Aerie was not surprised that he'd treated her like an old friend, that was how he treated everyone. He didn't care about others because he got something out of it, he simply cared. Life was precious, no matter who it was. "Why is it you flew out there? Why is it that you seemed as though you had resigned to give up before I jumped in?" Aerie asked her, there was not an ounce of judgment in his words. His pale rose gaze fell upon her, though he had to crane his neck to peer at her. Aearanas wanted her to warm up more than anything. "Do these dangerous trials make you feel alive? Are you one who will accept the consequences without a fight?" He asked her again because he wanted to understand.
Aerie cast his gaze down at the sand beneath them, he wondered if they should move beside the fire for now. It would probably warm them both up faster, he could not carry the heat of the fire with him for very long. "We should sit by the fire, we'll warm up faster that way." He tensed his muscles to stand, he moved in such a way that he would not disturb her. "And Ismene, if that is why you flew out there... Please don't do that again. I meant what I said about you. You are precious and even I, a stranger, care very deeply about you." He spoke, his eyes were sad but his words were no less genuine than before. Aerie waited for her to join him, if she refused to lie beside the fire then he would also deny it. Aerie did not want her to feel alone or frightened as he did now. It reminded him of the truth his grandmother had divulged to him before her passing. The world terrified him, but he had to keep going.
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