without saying anything

POSTED: Thu May 21, 2015 2:07 pm

oh hay is this where u live (is in drifter bay) [---]


There were days without shadow and wildfire.

They came through the bay, delightfully unaware of the danger that loomed close. Salsola was South, Semini had thought, and this was West, a moment away from the mountains they nestled within at night. It was easy to be deceived into safety, for the land was welcoming and bright. Birds took flight as they ran through. She caught one and then another, and laughed openly for the joy of feathers and flowers and sunlight. The redness of play and hunt was washed away by the time they drifted to the salty reaches, where the wildling and her trident combed through the broken shells and whirling tidepools. The ocean wind brushed a hand through the ivy in her hair, now woven with bird feathers and sunflowers too. They opened a crab and ate the tender meat inside, and when all was settled the two watched the day die down on the water.

She had missed the sea. Travel forced them to stay by tiny trickling streams and fields of green, but nothing was quite as beautiful as the glimmer on the water's surface. Those jewels promised freedom, and she could pluck them for herself if only she had a boat. Her feet carried her to the beckoning tide like she might try anyway.

The boar lingered where the rocks and pools were sure. He was her trident, but the salt of the bay was strong. He could not swim half as well as his canine mother. He huffed a small complaint and laid in the dampened mud, his nose to the wind.

She eventually returned to him, drowned with running bay water. She flicked some of it onto his bristled hide, a present from her journey, and brushed the knots that had been made of his dark mane. A song returned to her as she groomed her boar child; it was the only diamond her mother had ever given her. Her voice hummed in the dusk, broken and smooth.

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San
Luperci Angler, Carpenter, Striker Tusk Stubborn Love bbleeearrrrghhhhhh
THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS
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TEARS, SWEAT OR THE SEA

POSTED: Fri May 22, 2015 4:41 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

She knew.

It fell around him now, this small sense of peace he had held in the keeping of such a bittersweet secret. Time, and time, and time again, would fate prove to Lokr Revlis that nothing would ever remain his own - Not Salsola, not his soul, and now not even his selkie love.

In the end, Salvia would take it all. She knew. How could she possibly have known?

The answers were stark in the woods around him. He had always been a creature of tall pine and lone wind, a creature that thrived in the roots of a mountain. Yet now the tall groves felt full of eyes - Once he had commanded, but now he was betrayed. How many spies did Salvia have? He had been so careful, each time he had gone to Semini. So careful to leave no trace.

It would never occur to him that their meeting had been nothing more than coincidence. His belief in Salvia's omnipotence was far too great.

So he left the fields and the blanket of branches, and went to the ocean, where for miles around the eye could see. No birds aloft. No skulking shadows. This was her place - And the rich smell of salt made him long for her.

It was the scent of boar that caught him first, for no matter their cleanliness, the beasts always seemed to carry a musk in their bristly hide. Because he was a hunter, and because there were more than three boars in all Nova Scotia, Lokr thought little of it but a meal, and something to take his mind off of the potency of his Queen's wrath.

Then the singing; And was he imagining her? The hunter had always walked the thin precipice of madness. It would not have startled him to find that he had been mad, all along.

He followed the gentle tune along dune and scrub, and at last, with the seawind rising to bite uncomfortably at his terrible eyes, Lokr's voice rose to call out to her. Semini, he called, a lonesome cry. Is that you? Semini, a wavering howl, for he did not trust his voice to be snatched away by the growl of the wide waters.

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Alaine
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a voice in the deep

POSTED: Sat May 23, 2015 2:11 am

surprise! (sem is very confused) [---]


Like the stories of old, her voice had summoned him. She and the boar grew quiet and still in the dusk.

His call stirred her blood like a restless tide. It all crashed within her, until the elation died in her throat. The Queen would have told him – the Queen would have sent him. As she hadn’t forgotten his eyes, she hadn’t forgotten the dark of his hands. What cruel things did the tiger make him do?

And had it all been his very nature to do them, like Salvia wanted her to believe?

She soothed the bristles of her trident and kissed his sloping nose. If I do not come by morning, you must return home, she told him in a whisper. The wind would have bitten the words away but she did not trust the land, anymore. Her voice cracked in pain. Go, now, and the boar climbed into the swaying grasses, compelled by her urgency, but she did not watch as he receded into the fields. If the dragon claimed her quickly, then Velazquez would be hunted like common swine. The thought could ruin her if she looked back.

There were rocks nearby but her hands grabbed a seashell. The leather of the sling hummed again - familiar and distant, the feel of a hot day by a riverbed returned to her fingertips. She rubbed the sorrow from her face and determined that she would not meet her death - for surely, that was coming - as meekly as she had hidden from it. Her siren song was powerful. It would give her strength now.

The selkie glided around tidepools and crested a dune, where she saw the shoreline unfold and nearly swallowed in it, her dragon. She could have cried — and if she survived, she surely would, for it was pure cruelty that he had come to finish his Queen’s work.

A callous wind stole leaves and petals from her hair. Pieces of her braid uncoiled and lashed with their freedom. A song rose from her chest, and it climbed into the air with every pounding breath.

— is the heart of the ocean
— are storms from the sea in my soul

She stood tall, the sling whirling and her voice drowning in the waves. The melody was slow and haunting, a dirge for the winds to carry out to sea.

— I am restless and deep — before I can sleep
— I must go where the black waters roll

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Luperci Angler, Carpenter, Striker Tusk Stubborn Love bbleeearrrrghhhhhh
THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS
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TEARS, SWEAT OR THE SEA

POSTED: Sun May 24, 2015 5:14 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

Above the esker she rose in a glory, and her white hair was stark as snow. A halo, he thought, though those had never been his gods; Creatures of ivory silence, creatures of the great halls of a place where dead men wept.

Tucked away by the crevice of the shingle, where the water crashed with a thunder and a fury against the pebbled shore, the two lovers faced one another. In her palm the weapon circled like a predatory bird. In her voice, the anguish of the waves. So strange, that he could hear her singing; but his own weak words were snatched away by the ocean's hungry roar.

He reached for her, buffeted by the wind, and by the words of her song. He reached: Semini - "Semini!" And this time, his voice broke through the wild air.

Alive, she was a alive. Salvia had not spoken of it much, but her anger had been such that Lokr could not be certain. His lungs trembled within the curved bones of his ribs. "Stop, stop singing," The dragon begged, because her voice could drown men, and he needed to speak with her in more mortal ways than these. "Did she hurt you? Please, please... Are you hurt?" His black fingers itched.

In the darkness of his mind, Lokr wondered still; Perhaps she is a ghost, come to haunt me. Perhaps Salvia ate my selkie, and licked clean her bones. Until he felt the warmth of her, he could not know for sure.

"Come down to me," He shouted, commanded, pleaded.

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a voice in the deep

POSTED: Tue May 26, 2015 10:48 pm

hnnnnnnng [---]


A seashell would not crack bone like a rock; it could crack nothing at all. It was a brittle remainder where life had once lived - for her, a reminder of what she had become in the midday sun.

The sling lifted above her head, whirling fast — Semini! — faster still — Stop, Stop singing!Did she hurt you? — her palm caught the sling in an abrupt halt. The other hand unraveled ivy and feather, flowers rung from her braids until all the wilderness was ripped from her sea foam hair. It uncoiled like a wave.

"No." She answered.

"Your Queen did not hurt me," but there was pain in her, more potent than fear. She bowed her head to the moment's passing. "Salvia did not hurt me." Her gaze lifted into his to deliver their deep molten fire. It was a provocation to speak her name; this she knew very well. But it was hers now, as the sun could bear witness. Semini clutched these things, these insubstantial, these nebulous things and transformed them.

And then her look became sharp and fragile at once — a sea glass dagger. The accusation was there; you have hurt me.

The selkie slid down the dunes and rocky pools, a streak of navy melting into the sand. She broke with a fist against his chest that softened upon impact, as a tide might throw itself against a cliff side. Glimmers of a shattered seashell fell away from her palm. Anger was in every ripple of her body, and sorrow at the pit of her throat. Her eyes searched him, fierce and close. "I told her you would come to me —" she breathed, her chest heaving like a whipping wind.

"Now you are here." Her fingers reached for his cheek where they had once held him as gently and fearsomely as she felt. She seemed caught between the words, hitched with realization at the present and always slipping into the past. These absences fell around her like the blanket of night.

Beneath the flutter of dark lashes, her gaze became embers. "And you will leave." She said, the words like smoke in her eyes. Her hand recoiled, holding nothing. "You'll always go."

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Luperci Angler, Carpenter, Striker Tusk Stubborn Love bbleeearrrrghhhhhh
THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS
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TEARS, SWEAT OR THE SEA

POSTED: Wed May 27, 2015 10:59 pm

hark that warning whisper in your heart

Small leaves and little debris blew past him. Ivy, feather, flowers - Tethers to the dark earth. When the wilderness was stripped from her mane it curled and frothed. Semini had become the ocean.

When she spoke, his face contorted; A snarl, a smile, a thousand fleeting emotions that thrashed with one another. Don't say her name aloud, Lokr wanted to hiss, wanted to warn. She will hear it. When had his path become so deluded? Sirius had tried to become a god. Had Salvia taken his place at last - Her blood ascending from the pettiness of mortality? The fear that gripped him was so foreign it felt possessed.

Instead of this, he said nothing, but waited. The sand began to blow over his feet. How long until it buried him?

In the end, he did not miss her silent accusation. Lokr had hurt many people. Semini was not the first, nor the last of them. But oh, he loved her still.

As a cresting wave she rushed toward him; The tiny white of her fist smashing against the bleakness of his rocky chest. He felt no pain from it; The force was just barely enough to make him brace. In this small battle, the ocean would lose - All around them the waves crashed against bluff and stone, only to retreat, only to crash again. But over the many eons of life, the war would be won, and the cliffs would be battered away into particles and sand.

Near to him, now; She was near to him. He wanted to embrace her, to hold her against his flesh, to feel the pulse of her heart through the little veins in her wrist and throat. Alive, he wanted to assure himself. She is alive. But the fury in her eyes, unseen before now - The malignant hurt, the shadows in deep water, the slice of a fin that tore the surface - kept him at bay. White tendrils of her hair slashed against him, wild and free.

He searched her eyes for the crisis. He heard her heavy words with caution. One ivory hand, a seabird caught in a maelstrom, moved as though to rest against his face - there had been a time when she had touched him there, wantonly, as though to memorize the sharp wickedness in it - but hovered, abstained. He longed for the touch, if only because he knew it would break her.

And you will leave - He felt the change in the air about her, tenderness that melted into agony, refusal that blossomed fresh with the truth of it - You'll always go.

In a quick movement, the strike of a snake, he caught her white wrist. Tendons moved beneath his palm. A pulse beat there.

"Come with me," He hissed, with the furor of a dying man. "Be mine. None will dare touch you. She will have no claim to your skin," Could a man own the open sea? Even as he asked it, the dragon knew its wrongness, deep in the soul that was left to him. Perhaps he could steal her fur coat, perhaps he could fence her in with pine and stone. She would hate him then; but he would have her, all his own. "Be mine," Lokr asked again, his terrible face alight with fire.

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Alaine
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a voice in the deep

POSTED: Thu May 28, 2015 12:53 am

okie doke [---]


Her movement ended against his chest, which might have been a wall for all of its indifference. She was aware of his completeness; she perceived the ages in him that came high against the sea. She could not see through the obsidian stone in his eyes. She could not know of his longing, could not believe in his restraint.

When the claws caught her, she became still. Something wild spilled across her face; a moment of pure, ecstatic anger. It lasted long enough to fortify her will against his desperation. The words seemed a mockery of her sorrow, so futile that it was; careless as a beggar's plea.

"No, Lokr." She said, "She will have everything." Her fur bristled as if scorched by the memory. Fire had but one quality that made it great; a deep, all-consuming hunger. She saw the truth of it immediately. Salvia would have more than her skin, she would have her soul. Her wrist twisted in his grip, reddening where the hand had become a trap.

"I can't live that way —" Her voice burned with pain, almost in accusation. How could he live that way? Days in the shadows had made her weary, made her faint. "And I can't live this way, either." The realizations tumbled from her, truths turned clean by the salt in her eyes. She softened in it all.

"I am yours, I only want to be yours; don't you know this? Can't you see? I can give myself to you, and it is my choice and my will, all mine and mine alone." Everything else fell to the hand splayed across the moment of her chest, where white became blue. Salvia swore that the chains were of his own making, and she believed it as much as she refused it.

"But what of you?" she whispered, her strength breaking with the question. She wrenched further from him still, watching him in his entirety. Her eyes followed the handsome curve of his muzzle, licked with darkness and the deep clay of the earth. Rivulets of white ran beneath his eyes, as though gouged from a time when water ran freely, before being evaporated by the heat of a great green fire. His dark hands, forearms marked in the red of the woods, the dove unfolded across the dip of his neck. Everything of him called to her without speaking.

What did the tiger promise him? Was it power? Was it blood, or duty to his thistled home? "What do you want, Lokr?"

For the selkie, it had always been simple.

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San
Luperci Angler, Carpenter, Striker Tusk Stubborn Love bbleeearrrrghhhhhh
THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS
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TEARS, SWEAT OR THE SEA

POSTED: Tue Jun 02, 2015 4:16 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

She refused him.

In his grip her wrist twisted, wanting to break free. He felt it move, raw against the iron clasp of his fingers, wild against the titanium steel of his claws. The fury in her was diminished by the ice in him; He had not expected her adamant rejection. He had not expected her anger.

Against his cruel grip she suddenly softened, and the anguish of her ebbed out like the tide. This was heartbreaking, too, and as though snapped to awareness he released her - Suddenly, dreadfully, aware of the cruelness of his grip. The physical hurt would be as nothing compared to the pain in her voice, but it would be there, nonetheless.

I am a monster. He knew this. He had always known this.

But what of you? The selkie asked him.

What do you want, Lokr?

He shuddered once; The sound of deep cracks in blue ice, the eerie echo of a boom.

"I want my crown back," He said, and his voice was deep and dark, treacherous like his heart. "I want the throne that was taken from me. I want the realm that is my bloodright," The words flowed like blood from a grievous wound, so black and terrible, so utterly bleak. He had forgotten that this truth existed inside of himself. He had forgotten the arrogance of a boy, the willfulness of the wilds. He had forgotten that his father was a King.

"Salsola should be mine," Said the traitor-Lord, words he would speak aloud to no other; words that defied his most beloved Queen. "One day, it will be. I would have you by my side."

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Alaine
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wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Tue Jun 02, 2015 9:09 am

well [---]


She receded quickly from him, grasping the wrist where the skin now burned. The words that thundered in her ears were not his own, but Salvia's.

The only chains he wears are his own ambitions.

The tiger was cruel as sunlight for all that she revealed. Lokr was true to her now, truer than I have ever been. He had once been a lost thing, he might have come to her. But her anger was a wicked force; her words had churned loose old poisons that were better forgotten in the mire of time. He found himself in the tide. She watched him unfurl dark words, dark wings.

Her birthright had been Amaranthe. The ship had been a home. And she had looked foolishly for her place in people, because there was nothing that she loved more.

Her desire to slip away trembled in her arms, the sling dropped to the sand and left alone. She came forward instead, taking the hand that had chained her, and she kissed it soft as the first drop of rain. You'll always be good to me. White fingers slid like a tide across his earthen pelt, to the rise of his chest and the tangle of his tenebrous hair. Ages ago called to her, the feel of him and the cold of a winter long past. Now the coldness came from within them. She was pained into stillness.

The world she had seen in him shattered. He sank within her.

She kissed him in the quiet of dusk, haloed by the dying light. Something of her reached as the ocean reached infinitely for the land.

And then the winds called her back, so she receded from him. Her eyes burned, betrayed by the salt and the sea.

"You can have Salsola, but you won't have me."

She stepped toward the dunes and tide pools. Night glimmered against them. It began to swallow her, until she turned suddenly from afar.

"I wanted you, Lokr," she called. The winds buffeted her words to him. Her heart was a shipwreck, and she wanted him to know. "I only wanted you."

Whatever came to pass, he would understand this loss, and she would not forget.

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San
Luperci Angler, Carpenter, Striker Tusk Stubborn Love bbleeearrrrghhhhhh
THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS
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TEARS, SWEAT OR THE SEA

POSTED: Tue Jun 02, 2015 9:42 am

hark that warning whisper in your heart

For a moment, silence. His words had poisoned the air and made it foul.

He could not take them back. Something was broken - A bone that had never healed properly, a mutagen in the blood that contaminated everything.

-------------

She came into his arms, and pressed the warmth of her against him; And he was blissfully happy, for a time. But the wretchedness would always remain beneath the surface, beneath his dark skin, under his silver tongue. Her ivory fingers curled in the blackness of his hair, and his chest heaved painfully, because he knew. Happiness was here, in her arms - And he had given it away.

She kissed him sweetly then.

The taste of her would stay with him for weeks, haunting. The scent of her, suddenly found as he unfurled his cloak, would keep him awake long into the dark nights that would come. In his arms, here and now, she was a beacon of light; Silver and grace, something more than a mortal man can ever hold. So he took as much as he could; The feel of her spine beneath his fingers, the feathery brush of her gilded hair against the white arrow on his chest.

When she pulled away, he did not trap her - But his eyes, oh, they were terrible to behold.

You can have Salsola, but you won't have me.

She returned to the sea, pausing only once; The white of her hair spilling over her shoulders, so lovely, so wraithlike in the darkness. His agony swallowed her words, carved them into the stone of his useless guts - And so he stood, soundless, lifeless, until Semini had truly gone.

Only then did he fall to his knees in the sand. He clutched the necklace to his chest and shouted, and snarled, and frothed and raged, and beat his fist against the shore; And when no fury could hide it, he cradled the necklace in his rough palms and curled up around himself; A chrysalis made of flesh and bone. Beneath his skin the transformation continued.

-------------

Some time later, once the pain and the fury abated and he was able to breath again, Lokr rose, brushed the sand from his shins. The tide had come in, and lapped about his feet - But the salty water was cold, and unwelcome. In his chest, his heart had turned to ice. There was murder written in the lines of his face.

He kept the little gemstone tucked into his pocket, and turned back the way he had come.

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a voice in the deep

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