Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt

Attila

POSTED: Thu Mar 06, 2014 9:48 pm

Right then and there, she wanted nothing more than to cry.

But that would be weak. That would be running again. She mustn’t cry. So she didn’t. Instead, she just rubbed the heel of her hands into her eyes, a shaky breath rolling through her chest, an unsteady hand running through her hair. She paused at one of the feathers weaved into her tresses, and pulled it from its hold, running her finger long and slow along the tender plumage. She done something wrong. It’s not that she hadn’t made other mistakes in her life; she’d made plenty. But this was something different. It wasn’t so much her daughters themselves; it was what she’d done to them. It’s what she’d done to everybody, to her entire family, to Domovoi. Oh, she could list all of the things wrong with what she’d done. But she had to stop dwelling on it, and start fixing it.

The feather was slipped back to her hair, and Oce picked up one of the wooden statues she’d traded for in her travels. It was finely crafted, depicting a wilted flower, a fallen petal carved skillfully into the base. The woman carried it to the entrance of her den, examining the fine work even as she stepped out into the weak sunlight and sparkling snow. Her fingers began to trace the grain of the wood, ever so carefully, a touch so tender she could have stroked Oliva’s feathers with it, or Amorette’s cheek. Suddenly she was overcome. Overcome with the weight of her self-disgust and the despair that there was no way to fix herself, to fix all of the hurt and the heartbreak she had caused. A scream bubbled to her throat and she didn’t choke it down like the last few times; it ripped past her vocals, short and unimaginably, painfully angry. The wooden statue wasn’t in her hands anymore. The Hineyu had thrown it hard; it sailed surprisingly far. Nobody should underestimate the power of an angry, hopeless, heartbroken mother. It was deadly. Oce stood for several moment, letting her frustration fester, letting it grow and cloud those bright eyes to an unrecognizable point; until it cleared all at once, like a cold snap of water. The woman crossed the forest to the broken statue. She kneeled in front of it, the many splinters of beautifully carved wood littering the white snow. She wasn’t even upset. Why not throw more loss at her? She wanted to laugh at the sky, she wanted to laugh, taunt it, just to see what it would give her next. But instead she just turned and sat, pressing her head against the tree, closing her eyes and pressing her hands to her eyes once more.

((400+)) Midday, near the triple lakes.

Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Mon Mar 17, 2014 5:35 pm

The now three month old Orleans trotted alongside his giant father. He was already curious, an eager learner. And that was something Attila was eager to nurture and not crush. He'd made mistakes in his own life and he would not make mistakes again. Tiva had assured him that he was bound to screw up once or twice, yet that didn't stop him from bending over backwards in order to protect Orleans from life's eventual pitfalls. At least not until he was a little older.

From a while away, he heard the sound of thrown (and now broken) wood. The sound echoed across the scenery and made the father and son duo look up. Attila had heard what she'd done. Not like it was exactly a crime. And thankfully Orleans was old enough that he could stay close by as Attila comforted his sister, and not know anything of the situation.

'Oce?' he said, scooping up the small tawny boy up in his arms.
Attila Aston
There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

User avatar
Vida~
Luperci

POSTED: Tue Mar 25, 2014 10:40 pm

She didn’t completely know what her problem was. She realized what she had done was wrong and more than likely something to be frowned upon, but it wasn’t a major sin. It wasn’t something that continuing on wouldn’t cover up. It’s not that it wouldn’t fade. Maybe it was the way that her daughters had looked at her. The way that she had acted, the way she had welcomed them; with a whispered utterance of disbelief. Maybe it was because Ocèane hadn’t told a single soul. Maybe it was because she’d left Domovoi when he needed her, but she didn’t know what to do. She was scared; she was a coward. And all of it snowballed into one big issue. The tribe and her family only saw the tip of the iceberg; everything ran so much deeper.

Shakily, the woman took a heavy breath, pulling her hands from her eyes to run unsteady fingers through the part in her hair. The whole of AniWaya had probably heard her shattering moment. Carefully the chocolate woman pulled herself to her feet where she sat on her heels and pulled her arms against her knees. It was an almost childish position; one that could belong to a pup who’d lost their mother. Or, in this case, a mother who’d lost her pups.

The voice was what drew her unusually dark gaze from the criss-crossings of branches above her. The Hineyu steadied herself by sinking her claws into the tree at her back, managing to find her feet and stand, though not completely on her own strength. “Attila,” She breathed, and took several shaky steps toward her brother, where she threw her arms around his neck in a half-hug. It was unlike Oce to so readily initiate physical contact, but right now she needed the pale man’s steady figure. It was several moments before she peeled away, sea foam gaze moving to the small boy in his arms. “Orleans… right?” She questioned, hoping she’d gotten his name right. The Aston had only gotten a whisper of the news on Attila after he’d returned from Anathema, and was sure a lot of her info was out of date.

((300+)) ❤❤❤

Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Sat Apr 05, 2014 1:41 pm

The embrace was unexpected. Unwelcome too, but that was a facade Attila had put up in order to punish his sister. It was falling away now, the Itse honestly didn't have the heart to shovel more pain onto Oceane. He wasn't a cruel man. Hard headed, stubborn, headstrong perhaps. But not cruel. The woman peeled away soon enough though, and he considered that it was probably just as awkward for her as it was for him.

'Uh, yeah', Attila said, glancing down at the boy in his arms. 'Two months...' Orleans wiggled forward, pawing desperately at his head to flatten the ruffles out having been almost crushed by his father stooping to console his aunt. Now he hung over his father's arms peering down questioningly at the chocolate woman. "Who?" he demanded, his tiny ears pricking forward for an answer.
Attila Aston
There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

User avatar
Vida~
Luperci

POSTED: Sat Apr 12, 2014 2:35 pm

It was common knowledge she wouldn’t stay in one place for long; she’d traveled the Americas, and recognized them better than anyone she knew. But in the process, she’d hurt her family, she’d showed them that her wanderlust was more important than they. She’d tried to console Attila and promise him that she would stay; her last adventure had scarred her so deeply that he need for excitement was sated, and now she turned to her family to try and make up the time lost. But Océane’s actions and mistakes seemed to run too deep, and the embrace was clearly unwanted and too close. She moved away quickly, some part of her hoping that would fix it all; that she could move from one problem to the next, but that was too hopeful. It seemed she was dealing with more and more guilt as the days wore on.

Even though the Hineyu was very tall, Attila was a giant, and Orleans hung at eye level to her from her brother’s arms. She couldn’t help but smile at his puppy-ish demand, marveling at how small his features were. She’d missed such a phase in Amorette and Olivia’s life, and was simply glad she could witness it from other sources. “Your father’s brother. So, aunt, I guess.” The Aston offered, still thinking she didn’t deserve any of the titles she was given, like ‘mom’ and ‘aunt’, even ‘lover’ wasn’t something she deserved to be. She reached forward to stroke her nephew between the ears, tipping her head at him to mimic his puppy-like look. “Attila,” Her voice raised in a question, and she moved her eyes to him. “I’m sorry for being… me.” She couldn’t come up with any other word to describe her thoughts, and that was the closest thing to the bill. Sighing, Océane dropped her hand from Orleans head, ears lowering.

((300+)) ❤❤❤

Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Sun May 04, 2014 4:01 pm

Orleans' questioned wasn't exactly answered, but it was more his own fault. He wasn't quite sure what any of those words meant, and so gave a little frown. The tawny child kept quiet for now, somewhat contented to sit and enjoy in company. Attila was just glad Orleans couldn't understand what was being said.

'Look, Oce...' Attila began, but he didn't know what to say. Arguing would only make things worse and he could see his sister had suffered enough. But he wasn't sure what else he could say. 'You know, I used to pretend it was only me and Claudi when you were gone?' He'd done the same with Noir, but that was to mask pain. Not anger, betrayal. 'It's kinda weird having you here now...' He gave a light chuckle.

'I missed you.
Attila Aston
There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.

User avatar
Vida~
Luperci

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