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Played by Offline Obsidian [PM] Posts: 189 — Threads: 28
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Night Court Battlemage
Male [Him/his/he]  |  Immortal [Year 500 Summer]  |  16.3 hh  |  Hth: 37 — Atk: 43 — Exp: 74  |    Active Magic: Shadow-Forging  |    Bonded: Thia (Shadow-creature)
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tenebrae

The work of the eyes is done.
Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
~Rilke


The beach is moonsoaked. Silver lies upon the top of the sea and shines like diamond light over the crowns of all those who drift along the beach. Though the searches for trinkets and shells was a daytime activity, still there are those who come and pick their way through the dark, night-painted, objects littering the beach. They hold them up to firelight and let the flames reveal their identities. 


Tenebrae listens to them all. The sounds of children blowing into shells that cry out like ships at sea. It is a mythological noise, he theinks. One that belongs between the leaves of leatherbound books and upon the tongues of those who gather round the logfires upon the sand. He has heard their stories too, those of ghosts and gods, mermaids and kelpies. 


Kelpies. 


He is looking out to where he hears the sea sigh. He looks, even with his unseeing eyes, like a man yearning. He should look more like a monk, he thinks. 


Maybe Morrighan finds her new Regent like this, caught by the seduction of a sea he cannot see. Though he listens to it, as a mermaid who has lost her tail and found herself landlocked with legs she can barely walk upon. He is learning how to be a man blind. The Disciple and Regent is learning what it is to live on without his sight. The pulse of grief twists in his breast, throbbing like needle pricks. Boudika and Elena have taught him well, to know what grief is, how it stings, how it weighs one down…


Morrighan comes. He knows the way she breathes, the way her body parts the air and her feet touch the ground. Tenebrae has already learned the song of her feet upon the earth, the rhythm of her footfalls. The smoke that clings to her skin, a whisper of fire beneath her skin, plays across his tongue and she smiles, warmed by the embers of her. She is a glow he might always turn to. “Morr,” the monk welcomes and reaches his muzzle towards her (where she parts the air with her breath, her body). 


“I am proud of you,” her Regent murmurs, low and warm as whiskey. And he is proud of her, it is there in his moonlit smile that tips up small (for neither of them have ever enjoyed grand gestures). “I hope you will find quiet time too, tonight.” For heavy is the crown, Tenebrae thinks.











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Morrighan
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- ✦ -


T
he sea had never been a place where she felt at home. It had always been hanging in the air as a breeze passes through. She could always hear the waves crashing in the distance, but it wasn't often that she went out of her way to walk its shoreline. The Court wanted to enjoy its beauty and the joy it can bring for the transition into summer, so it only seemed appropriate that she join them. It wasn't until the sun left and the moon took its place that she truly felt herself. She drinks the moonlight in just as it settles on the ripples of the water.

This is how she finds her Regent, looking out at the ocean, although he no longer could see it. It pains her to see him in this way and wonders just how far his punishments will go. Will he lose a limb next? Part of her is wondering if she needs to take down the Order entirely for how extreme their measures are, but then they all willingly go into this life. Even with their conversation on the mountain seasons ago, it didn't stop him from being blinded (either on his own or by the Order themselves).

Still, Tenebrae's voice is comforting. If anything because he doesn't call her Queen, but uses her nickname. When he reaches his muzzle towards her, at first, she hesitates. But then Morrighan steps forward and they touch in greeting. She is learning again about the closeness to others. In how it doesn't have to sting or be exclusively romantic. She can still learn to love without it having to hurt, but rather begin to trust those she should trust. The ones who have already helped her and showed their loyalty. To Maeve, too, who looks up to her even if the fire raging inside can be terrifying when her anger shows through. Her daughter still loves her despite it all. So do those few that she would like to call friends. At least still there are some who don't feel betrayed.

"I am proud of you."

The words feel strange. No one has really told her they're proud of her, only that they were disappointed or nervous in some way. She can't actually recall a time that Antiope outright said those words to her either. This feels more impactful and she remembers why she's grateful for having the monk by her side (even if she will never understand his lifestyle).

"Thank you," she says, keeping her voice low as well. "I have, now that things are calm." The liveliness of the day's festivities have died down and there is just the sea next to them with the occasional laugh in the distance. There is quiet at last and she didn't realize how much she needed it until now. Morrighan had been around earlier and it had actually drained her energy with so much going on.

"I wonder at what point it'll be second nature- all of this," she adds, her eyes wandering up to the moon. Tenebrae will likely know what she's referring to. This is what she had wanted after all, but it still feels different. She's not so much expecting it to get "easier", but at least become a new normal. Morrighan never considered herself to be as great as the Sovereigns before her, but maybe in time she could live up to their legacies. At the very least, the Court wouldn't have to worry about her shutting them out from the rest of the world.



i've lost a part of me ; tell your friends to sharpen their teeth
« r ; art » | @Tenebrae <3









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