[m] patron saint of the lost causes

POSTED: Mon Dec 12, 2016 5:08 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count → ??? :: we lay in bed as she whipped around us

With each step west the burdens lifted, until he could look back at them as though reminiscing on tragic stories that belonged to someone else.

The setting sun burst splendid in death upon the far horizon. Oromocto was a dark slash in the sky, bathed and basking in the fading amber light. As its shadow fell over him, a cold pallor settled deep into Lokr's bones; But he had walked this path many times, frost or snow or hell upon it. The man took a moment to breath into his palms, rubbing them together for warmth and pulling the thick oiled doehide cloak tighter about him.

Somewhere ahead in the frosty dusk a little cabin was waiting. There would be a warm fire crackling in the hearth, and curled sumptuous beside it - perhaps with a book, or a little clay mug of tea, wearing warm furs and her own divine skin - would be his lover.

The thought of it, intoxicated and effervescent like mulled wine (he could already smell her, feel her alive and welcoming beneath his cold, cold fingers) was enough to make the weary hunter lift his step.

It was deeper into dusk when at last he reached the quaint shack. Stars glittered brightly overhead, but he did not care for them; It was so very cold, and his breath billowed out in silent gusts of mist. The frontward window was draped with old cloth, but even through it pulsed the light and the golden warmth, calling to him as the little spiral of smoke that rose from the stone chimney had called.

He left his ghosts - Ondine, the stranger they had found on the border, his wife, his daughters, Salvia - on the doorstep, knocked off with the ice and the first crisp snows of winter. Pushing gently on the wooden door, the hunter slipped within, bringing a flurry of white with him.


slithered here from Eden

User avatar
Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Mon Dec 19, 2016 1:46 am

when I die, I'm coming right on back for you

Semini liked to arrive early to the cabin, to clean and to cook and to repair anything if there was time. By the end of it, she would wait at the hearth where he once waited for her, and while feeding log after log into a hungry fire, she pondered projects that might further restructure their house into a home. When she spoke of painting the windowsills in the spring (white, they decided), or planting wild flowers in front of the broken foundation, she meant to keep her mind off the uncertainty of the future, and in a way, reassure herself that there was a future they inhabited together.

She was a hopeful creature by design, but prone to doubt when left too long to think. Their love lit a path through the dark and at the same time, illuminated many obstacles and their own failures too. It was easy for a thought as bitter and cold as the winter to find its way in, and to make her shiver fully blanketed, propped by a warm fire. She often thought of their situation as a kind of limbo, and this pained her so greatly sometimes that she believed nothing could console her. The damnation that found them seemed apt for the time of day, for it was during twilight that lost souls, those who could neither ascend for their blessings nor descend for their sins, would roam. Twilight, they had decided, was when they would meet.

A thud at the door stirred her from sleep. The book in her hand had slipped onto the cold stone, and the fire had thinned to little more than a candle's size. She turned, and the gentle curve of her nose was gilded by the low light. For only a moment longer, she let the dream linger in her eyes, forgetting that as she drifted there was firelight spinning gold in the rings of her white hair, and that the room was quickly growing cold. Long were the shadows that stretched between her and the love of her life.

She saw him come through the door, a pelt of winter hanging across his shoulders like the skins of his prey, and this made her smile. There, he looked less like the commander of a kingdom and more like an honest man returning home. She stretched with the thought, and discarding her blanket, she tried to discard the notion of his wife who likely thought the same.

Wait there, she told him with a voice made husky from sleep. She rose and gently stretched in movements that made her pelt shimmer like a restless sea. She then brought over the fur blanket warmed by her body and exchanged this for the doehide cloak (or what she assumed was his cloak peeking beneath its snowy baggage). There you are, she concluded as it was hung from its place on the back of the door.

She returned quickly to him, and the blanket around his shoulders was fussed with until it became obvious as a ruse to come closer, and then she simply didn't leave. She could smell the season on him, the evergreens and the mountain wind, the glittering snow that lay miles between their homes. I hope the journey was not terribly cold. Her voice was low again like the sleep hadn't quite left her, but the sound was different, changed by her coy smile and the flutter of her lashes as she looked up into his eyes.

The days between their visits felt too long, and the night they spent together, too short. But every time she met him at the door, these moments fell away, and she readily remembered the sureness of his warmth, his heart beating steady under her hand. The future could wait for them, she decided.

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

POSTED: Mon Dec 19, 2016 2:37 am

Word Count → ??? :: Stay with me till you're no longer
Burdened by a broken heart;

The warmth greeted him like a fleeting breath of summer; Even as it slipped past, light fingers in a gentle caress, and dashed out into the cold beyond the open doorway.

He stepped in hastily, bringing with him the clinging white and the rustle of furs, the soft hush of leather on a packed earth floor. In his mind, Lokr had made plans to lay stone and thick clay in spring, when he could dig them free of the mountainside; And plant sweet heather, a trellis of vine to hide the cracks in wood and rock.

It was easy to make these whimsical designs for a future that only rose with the moon. It was easy because seeing her now, turning to him with sweet sleepheavy eyes and a secret little smile, felt honestly like coming home.

Lokr shut the door behind him, and with it, closed out any doubts that lingered in his mind. Let them wait in the cold until morning. Let them die out there, if fate was kind.

The blanket was soft and smelt of her, but nothing was as good as the real woman herself. As she fussed with the furs he watched her intently, the quietness building in his throat until he could bare it no longer; Reaching for the selkie to pull her close, hold her still, hold her near. "Oh - My hands," He said, apologizing too late. They were cold and sharp like the season, icy where the coat had not covered them - And they were sliding softly through her hair, white as the snow that still despondently clung to his eyelashes, his nose.

"For a seal-woman, you do stay rather warm," The hunter added, and his black lips curled into a toothy smile, "Is there no winter in the ocean?" The laugh that swelled in his voice was welcome now. Semini had brought out this side of him, once unfamiliar, but growing ever so - He found joy in all the experiences of being near her, even the bitter bite of winter.

With an arm possessively encircling her waist, he pulled forth a somewhat frozen rabbit, and threw it softly to the old reed weave before the hearth. "Any tea to be had?" She was known to make a good, strong brew, one he craved of late almost as often as wine. Well, maybe good was speaking too kindly of it, though the strength of the flavor could hardly be denied; And few things (perhaps the hand on her hip that began conspiratorially to wander) could so quickly defrost a wayward soul.


slithered here from Eden

User avatar
Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Wed Dec 21, 2016 2:31 am

when I die, I'm coming right on back for you

She could feel his eyes on her and the tension coiling tightly behind them. Even now, she found his intensity intimidating, shocking but not unpleasant, not unlike the bite of a bright winter's day. She smiled a secret kind of smile, one that upon close inspection (and he was very close) revealed an inner revelry, a pleasure that was purely hers and made purely by him. His cold hands were accepted as collateral to their collision - she giggled, but she also made certain that he felt her skin as it gave a generous shiver.

There is a winter, and it brings us handsome snowmen to warm with our bodies. She murmured against his neck, and grinning foolishly, she was grateful he could not see her undignified expression. Sometimes their banter was not unlike tickling, and afterward she felt awash with both great embarrassment and deep contentment that he could share such unadulterated moments with her.

Her attention was brought to the frozen rabbit and his request (and to his wandering hand, which she noticed more), and like any dutiful lover she guided him to sit nearby while she fed the fire and set the kettle on its hook to boil. The light expanded all around them, over slatted wood and gleaming stone, and in the strands of her white hair as she blew into the flames. She sat back on her legs when the fire was assuredly rejuvenated, and then she looked to him. It won't be long, she said, bundling her hair away from her overly warm face, You don't mind waiting, do you?

Realizing that her statement might have seemed intentionally cheeky considering their history, she grinned. She straightened a little more, pronouncing places that might have been overlooked, and peered at him with a gaze that could only be described as tempting. I've heard you're a patient man.

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

POSTED: Wed Dec 21, 2016 4:38 am

Word Count → ??? :: where is my mind? way out in the water, see it swimming

He laughed in surprise at her words, a warm and outraged bark. The sound came from deep in his throat and hummed in his chest long after it had ended. "Trust me to forget you commune with sailors! Who else but they would say such a thing," She made him feel years younger than his age - But older, too; Kinder, calmer. A better man than the one whose skin he wore.

Merriment thrummed within the sharp lines of his dark face. Lokr allowed himself to be ushered to a little three-foot ramshackle stool by the fire. Though it rocked slightly beneath his weight, it was sturdy and authentic, built right like the cabin had been. As Semini stoked the hearth back to life to scald the bottom of the hammered tin kettle, he began the arduous task of unbuckling his leather tunic, releasing the straps of the belts that held his daggers and his quiver.

His fingers were still a little frigid, and fumbled with the last dull silver buckle; By the time he had it free the woman was done with her tasks, her gaze bold and alluring as it lingered on him. A shiver raced up and down his spine at the temptation of her words, and he met her eyes evenly, letting her see the deep forest that grew within his own - Branches and old boughs, opening in welcome to the glossy reflection of her. "Have you now?" He said quietly, and the smile that grew slow about his face was truly wicked.

He moved fluidly to sit aside her, on the old woven mat before the fire. "I think people have been telling you lies," The hunter warned, his black fingers reaching for the arch of her elegant neck; Visible now that she had messily pulled up the ivory fall of her hair. As always, he was transfixed by her beauty. Stirred by the moment, the wickedness slipped away - When he met her gaze again, his face was solemn, serious.

"Though I would wait forever for you, il mio cuore," Somewhere beyond his line of sight the kettle was beginning to bubble. Unable to resist her, he leaned in close to try and steal a tender kiss.


slithered here from Eden

User avatar
Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Fri Dec 23, 2016 1:11 pm

when I die, I'm coming right on back for you

There was a thrill in the chase, and an even greater one with a hunter such as Lokr. She watched, transfixed, as the wilderness in his eyes changed him from man to beast in a second, an experience that was markedly different from how he had been shedding his last tokens of civility just moments before. Her body stilled under his surveillance, and only her eyes followed his movements from the stool to the mat beside her. She gave a low hum as his fingers caressed her neck, but her gaze that followed him was anything but demure. Everything within her stirred awake and swirled around the point of his touch.

In another heartbeat, it all changed again. Some softness entered his face, tamed in fascination, perhaps, or he could feel the vibrations of her blood, her body, her soul reaching for his own. She leaned in to meet his kiss. All that was cold had already melted away, but when their lips met she felt the pleasant jolt of her heart like winter had ushered in once more. Parting just slightly, she breathed, You won't have to.

It wasn't long that she took, but only a moment to brush the damp strands of his hair gently aside and admire his handsome features. The only forever that rang in her heart was this: his nearness, his joy, his soul laid bare in every touch. She would do anything to find her way to him. She looked into his eyes, and then kissed him until the kettle's cry was too loud to ignore.

She stood with fingers tracing his arm, reluctant to leave him bereft even for a moment. From above he looked all the ways he had been, a young man before the northern woods, before the thorns had grown in and shrouded the life in his soul. It was said sometimes that love was the veil, the illusion of sight. She was not convinced of this as much as she believed that to love was to hone in narrowly on what was essential in a person, perhaps to the exclusion of all else. The thought was lost with a little sigh, and she moved to silence the boiling water.

A trail of steam followed her way to the counter, where the tea awaited its preparation. Bearing water, she felt like the fabled Waterbringers of Laevisa's stories, and this helped to calm the wild colt of her heart. See? Not long at all, She said as she returned to the mat, cup in hand. She settled herself while passing this to him, and this time much closer, so that her head might rest against his shoulder while he drank.

The fire crackled now, awake. Her mind drifted over the flames, lifting like its smoke to the dark sky and the stars. I dreamed you were at sea. She said suddenly, and a light laugh fluttered from her throat, for she found the image of the hunter so far out of his element both endearing and humorous. And when you came in, I thought you'd brought it all back with you. The salt, the sun, the wind. Her fingers sought his unoccupied hand, and weaving through them, she massaged at the little hills of his knuckles. She thought about words spoken so long ago of life after love, and about the way a feeling that was true never died. She had and continued to think this was about Lokr to her, and how from the moment they first met, what was real in them had called to one another. He alone roused the sea inside her chest, and brought to surface the pieces of her buried by time and land and conflict. Little by little, that other life fell away, and Semini was as she was meant to be. I missed you.

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

POSTED: Sun Jan 01, 2017 10:27 pm

Word Count → ??? :: Your kiss made me a believer // Cleansed my sins somehow

Her reassurance was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. Her breath tasted like life; her lips like a forgiveness he'd been chasing all his life.

It was difficult for him to believe in gods, or fate as many understood it. That there was something greater than this quiet moment, something that transcended the feeling of her silky hair beneath his fingertips, was a fallacy that he couldn't reach for: How could there be anything more than this? Why give devotion to something ethereal, something that could not reach back? He stirred beneath the gentle touch of her hands, feeling the little intricate beat of her pulse like faint notes of music on the still air.

When they kissed again, it was deeper, and Lokr felt himself warm with need.

At the last moment Semini pulled away. The kettle was shrieking now, a happy burble of steam gushing from its spout. His eyes traced the woman as she rose, fanatically memorizing every movement, the way the glowing coals changed the blue-grey of her to a brilliant color he'd never be able to describe with words.

He was composed again by the time she returned with the little clay cup. As he sipped, careless of how it scalded his tongue, the man's free hand rested lightly against the crown of her head where it lay on his collarbone. The fire danced blithely before them, and after a soft moment she spoke again.

Lokr listened to the dream, trying to picture it in his own mind. "I dream of you, too," He said in a quiet, thoughtful voice, "That you live in the moon; That I am building a ladder to reach you, but the night sky is wide, and dark." He wisely did not tell her about the other dreams, the ones that involved fire and blood, but in thinking of them held her a little tighter.

"It won't be this way forever," The hunter promised them both, feeling the certainty of it deep in his soul where all the darkest, and truest, parts of him lived. "I'll find a way to make it right, Semini."

He did not talk about the plans he made, in that deep and secret part of himself. They were treacherous, after all; And treason only lives when it is never spoken aloud.

Tired of his own solemness, he put the tea down half-empty, and turned his attentions to her instead; To lay her down gently by the fire, and love her as he ought.


slithered here from Eden

User avatar
Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

POSTED: Wed Jan 04, 2017 10:50 pm

when I die, I'm coming right on back for you
377 going old school "you are my sweetest downfall"

At its simplest, love was to endure and overcome the trials of life, and theirs had not been been an easy journey. It was one that continued to wind its way through brook and vale unto open water, and they, stranded in each other's hearts, forever maneuvered towards one another until they could reunite. If their arrangement became unsustainable, it would not be by their hand but by the cruel machinations of fate.

Semini did not fear this now, and she was comforted by the notion that she had seen him bring the sea. As the fire swelled higher and her head fell to its natural place against his chest, she understood this to mean that he had made his home among the pearls and treasures in her sunken heart. The good of him, the best of him, the selkie coveted as a beast of her own design, and determined to preserve him for all the ages that they lived.

In his promises she heard that melancholic echo belonging to those adrift, and she thought a promise was always a sad thing for what it exposed of their circumstances. Hope lived in the dark. Her hand settled in the grooves of his own, and she thought of the way that mapmakers of old would see how the universe aligned and how she thought in that moment, they did too.

Their love began on a night as cold as this, and she almost mentioned it before he swept her gently into his dark and beseeching arms. Warm and cozy laughter bubbled from her throat as she was laid soft against the mat, her hair spilling out beneath her like waves of the frothy sea.

If I am in the moon, she said to him, and her voice was the invocation of that celestial and arcane power, her heartbeat the hum of their incandescent love, then I shine my light for you every night. She cupped her hands liked crescents around the dark of his features, and her eyes, glowing like the dawn, heralded each moment of light he made within her.

How she needed him, her fingers said, a gentle rain against the forest of his skin.

How she loved him, her kisses spoke, tender against his lips.

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

POSTED: Thu Jan 12, 2017 5:32 am

Word Count → ??? :: It is only, you are the only thing I've ever truly known

"I know," He breathed into the the last spaces between their lips, a warm invocation on the exhale and nothing more, "It's all I see."

Her body was familiar to him now, but still he sought its secrets and was delighted anew. Every little sound she made was an encore; Every arch and languid sigh a summon. The first time they'd made love it had been a wild sort of passion, the heat in their bodies rising aflame to keep the wretched cold at bay - Life in spite of death.

This time he was slow, and purposeful. In the little cabin there was both endless time and endless night. It was a greater test of his will than any he could recall, to be patient, to be thorough; But he was rewarded by the temptation of her, and found many a wondrous secret better held well and forever in the empty spaces within his chest (slowly, they were filling up; one day perhaps there would be no echo when he called in that place, only a memory of the sound of her gentle surprised inhale against the cusp of his ear).

And when he could wait no longer, when he could so little restrain himself that he was no more than a rough woodsman come in from the pines with nary a manner to his nature, he held her tightly and let the smoldering warmth burn them both to ash.

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

He reached over to swell of her hip for the little mug to sip at the tea, but it was unbearably cold. Lokr grimaced in a way such as showed his many sharp teeth, and murmured in a husky voice: "Oh, horrible!" But he drank the rest regardless, for pleasing a woman like Semini was a thirsty task; And, for that matter, a ravenous one. Where his soul felt full and brimming, his stomach was of a sudden most terribly empty - And announced as such with a growl.

Lokr followed it up with a growl of his own, his arms possessively laced about the woman's gentle curves. With the warmth of her body against him, it took a long moment to consider exactly what it was he was hungry for. "Love?" He thought to ask, but became instantly distracted by the inviting curve of her collarbone, and set to lightly raking his teeth over that instead.


slithered here from Eden

User avatar
Alaine
Luperci /
wrath of the north
a voice in the deep

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