faded flowers, fatherless dead

POSTED: Wed Jun 12, 2019 5:05 pm

(396)

*rubs hands together*

Tawny fur meshed with off-white and dilute gold in the cold watch of night. Somewhere beyond the ivy draped window a raven called as the siblings took their rest. The yearlings were still as they dreamed of landscapes and faces both foreign and familiar. Their chests rose and fell in unison, Wisteria’s pale arm lifting with each breath as it lay languidly over her brother’s chest. Her forehead pressed against his ribs, her long legs draped one over the other.

The walls around them were dark and bare, wisps of shadow playing upon them as silvery light crept through the swaying branches of trees outside. Clothing lay in piles, some folded, others draped across scant furnishings. Notable among these was a bycocket cap, feathered and frivolous it rested just beyond the pile of furs towards the tawny man’s side. All was quiet, save the soft sighs of air passing through two sets of lungs and the distant snorts of horses.

Wisteria shivered in her sleep. The prickling sensation crept from nape to tailbone, treading up her spine like the grim march of soldier ants. Her breathing hitched, switching from diaphragm to chest, becoming all at once ragged and broken. Behind closed lids her ember eyes blinked doubly and darted.

She dreamed a dark and desolate space. Faces passed, her mother's, her father's. Others blurred before her mind's eye, nameless and unfamiliar. A raven called, a horse cried. She felt trapped in a foggy abyss, paralyzed as the scenery shifted to a stone cairn. The grave was marked by a rusted blade and the longer she watched the more the stones appeared to move, shaking and breaking, parting. Within their stone cradle lay the bones of long dead children tiny and forgotten.

In the waking world her body shuddered, her lips parted and she murmured nonsense words. She spoke of a flower, bastards, betrayal, and death. Her eyes remained closed, but she saw...everything.

The stone cairn shifted to a well-worn path. Beyond it a solitary fire glowed bright, a flaxen horse grazing within the halo of light. The air was fragrant with roasting meat as golden hands reached out to turn a spit before them. A rustle nearby caught her attention and then tawny hands wrapped around her chin and the crown of her head. The horse screamed and bone cracked, then darkness.

Wisteria woke up.

Last edited by Wisteria Valentine on Wed Jul 10, 2019 9:45 am, edited 1 time in total.
Wisteria Valentine
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POSTED: Fri Jun 14, 2019 3:29 pm

seester y u wake me

Sleep came easy.

Granted, there were few times that it hadn't - but there was something to be said about the cool carress of Northern air that crept in through slats in wood and stones, snuffed out at the points of platonic contact that the siblings shared, intwined for warmth, for security, in a tangle of comfort that they shared clear back to the womb.

Summer was setting in. The delicate, refreshing chill would not last much longer.

Aurelion was snoring, ever-so-softly, more or less the smallest of rattles against the back of his throat with sleep-laden breaths, though it paused, as he swallowed, feeling the face mashed into his ribs shift, the curl of a spine under the hook of his arm twitch and shiver.

His eyes cracked open, slow and bleary, while he blinked away. The rasp of his voice was low and quiet thing, not entirely his own yet while it crackled with residual sleep. Bringing his hand up to knuckle at his eye, he half-listened to the pallid, silver-washed dark.

"Wiss," he mumbled, his lips thick and numb as he slowly sparked into waking. "You're talking."

His sister, pale-white and ghostly suddenly started awake, and her legs knocked against his with enough force to jostle him from his subtly disturbed half-slumbers, and he sat up, looking bewildered as though seeing their room for the first time all over again.

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POSTED: Fri Jul 12, 2019 3:18 pm

()

The sensation in her gut was like the twisting of nesting snakes, knotted and coiled around one another a writhing mass of flesh and muscle. She felt sick, she felt scared. The crunching of bones still echoed in her ears, her vision darkness even after she’d opened her eyes adjusting to the dark. She blinked and for a few long moments she didn’t remember where she was. Who she was. Her chest rose and fell with hasty breaths, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might open her ribs and leap out of her chest.

Slowly, like a photograph developing in a chemical bath the room began to take shape. Her brows furrowed, orange eyes luminous yet squinting at tables and shelves...a bewildered tawny shape. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. What was his name?

Her lips trembled, her mind seizing upon a memory. “Aurelion?” Her voice cracked, her eyes hot, not with the fire of her yearling temper, but...wet. She shivered before she regained herself and wiped her eyes hastily. “Go back to sleep.” Her voice was groggy and too stern, too sharp. She denied her own vulnerability, her fear even as her hands shook and she drew her knees to her chest. “I- I was just cold. Sorry.” The pale girl said as if this might explain it all, as if this would stop his questions before they could start. Her voice might as well be a winter breeze, cool as always, but not composed. Not now. She’d be rocking had he remained asleep, shooing away the horrors of what she had seen. What she had felt.

Her pale hands lifted to her throat, checking for swollen flesh, jutting bone. But it was intact, normal, Though her pulse raced beneath her pads.

Wisteria Valentine
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POSTED: Sun Jul 28, 2019 4:13 pm

:eyes:

She was always such a bitter and bosys little thing, but that was ever on the surface. Things stirred, still mixing, still shifting, beneath Wisteria's surface; they were young still. Impressionable. Like the ever-moving dark, not in focus, people, too, changed.

Blinking the sleep from his blue eyes, he watched her pallid form, moving about in the dark, and her eyes, not yet her own, pinned his bewildered shape. Inky pupils were blown, fat and round. She did not yet recognize him, and the amber-halo glow of her gaze caught the light, wet and glittering like dew.

Go back to sleep. His brow furrowed, and nose twitched, whiskers bristling forward as he pouted his lips.

"Do you need more blankets or something? Water?" he observed, watching her press her fingers against her neck - parched? Troubled? Wisteria did not move as he'd known her, and he blinked, feeling the tepid air; Cold - he did not yet quite believe that, but didn't pry into it further.

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POSTED: Thu Aug 15, 2019 2:31 pm

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If he’d noticed the cold tears that welled up from her lower lids he didn’t say anything. And neither did he go back to sleep. She grit her teeth wishing him away even as she was tempted to draw him close. He was at least warm, familiar, their scents alike with shared blood. “A blanket.” She said then cleared her throat. It was sore as she swallowed, a phantom pain that lingered even now.

Why didn’t he just go to sleep? She could handle this on her own, she’d be fine. She’d be fine. She wasn’t.

She sat up taller, dragging her knees to her chest so she could clutch them. In the silence that followed she blinked her fire-bright eyes. The room began to come into focus, the walls dark and looming made her feel small and vulnerable within their cage. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and looked away from her brother. The dream faded ever more, replaced by questions, and a deep uncomfortable fear: she was losing control. To what, she did not know.

“Did Maman ever say what Grandpére looked like?” She spoke to the silence, eyes drawn to the window. “Did they ever find out how he died?”

Wisteria Valentine
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POSTED: Mon Aug 19, 2019 9:03 am

--

A blanket - of course, a simple request, and a simple comfort. Aurelion pushed up on his palms, and went to fetch one for her off a wardrobe shelf. His hands shook it out, before he returned to the bed, and wrapped the fabric around her shoulders tightly the way mother did for him, for her, for Sanguine -

It felt like the right thing to do. Wisteria, despite her bluster, looked so small in that moment, with her knees against her breast, and her warm, fiery eyes like disks in the dark, refusing to look at him. Aurelion furrowed his brow, and smoothed his broad palm over the blanket and across her shoulders, the friction rubbing warmth into her shape. The question gave him pause.

"I don't really remember," he answered honestly. "I always figured that he looked like Maman - right? That would make sense."

The morbid question of death made him fumble even more so, and he cleared his throat loudly.

"Well, uh, I thought he just kinda... Y'know, up and disappeared, right? Probably retired to some cottage somewhere -" It was a hopeful, optimistic thought. He thought of the old bones they found, what felt like ages ago, worn and bleached by the sun, the pores beginning to fray from the elements. "What's with all these questions, Wisteria? You okay?"

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