a magician and a heritic

Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-03-2011, 05:35 PM

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Trepidation bleed from her crème hands to his own, a shade darker, a shade more like the dust and dirt he had been formed from. Ezekiel was a creature of nature, meant to live in the wilds he had roamed. The human name and human things he carried were tools, meaningless objects that he had made meaning out of. This was how he knew he was alive, and how he knew he was free. He was not bound to any singular thing without having made that choice (save the scars, though he supposed these bound him to Cwmfen).

So he smiled sadly, able to feel her pain and her doubt but unsure how to face it. She blamed herself for his choices, a naïve thing that made him wonder just how deep down she had hid in her self-made cave when the monster took her. His poor sister, whom he loved, thought she was nothing but a blight on their house. If anything, the fault lay within her stars.

He squeezed her hand and continued to smile, but his eyes had become like flint. “If you had died, I would never have left Tristan. I would have never come home again. You brought me back, Tali, and you’re the reason I’ll stay. Not for anything else.”

Talitha de le Poer · 03-03-2011, 06:07 PM

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Maybe Ezekiel needed her like she needed him. The mutual bond they shared was clear, but the sunset Luperci had begun to wonder if it was a good one. Did they share the dependency for reasons that benefited the twins, or was their attachment a parasite on the lives they would live otherwise? Ezekiel's presence benefited the unstable female, she knew that. Without Ezekiel, she was so much worse for wear. But without Talitha, she believed her sunrise brother would have flourished into a stronger being, and perhaps a more social one.

Inferni was her world. As days moved on, however, she questioned if it was the right place. "Maybe you shouldn't have come back, Zekie. I'm starting to think this place...isn't right." Her words weren't elaborate, and she knew she could never help someone understand the meaning, but it was there in her mind. Something about her family was emerging to the maturing Lykoi. She saw it most easily in her father, who was so different from her childhood; it was easy to assume she had simply fabricated their moments together in youth, however.

Finally, the princess turned her eyes to her brother's face. He was smiling, but it wasn't the smile she found familiar. His eyes held no cheer. Clutching his fingers, the russet woman leaned forward, pulling her head to the side so that she might give him an affectionate bump on the cheek with her nose. It had been a stupid mistake to confide in the male; clearly, she had only served to upset something in him. Once more, she failed to offer comfort to her family.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-04-2011, 09:03 PM

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It was not within his character to think of things that could have passed. He was a being that focused singularly on the present and now, and his thoughts did not linger often on then and if. Ezekiel was aware of his past, and most certainly aware of his heredity and the ghosts that he was made up of, but he did not allow it to change his course. This single-minded stubbornness had gotten him through two years and back home, to the father who shared his name with an angel and the sister that had within her the power to be reborn. And he the prophet son, who brought no miracles but spoke in tongues yet.

Still, she doubted. In her doubt grew and twisted like ivy. If she doubted Inferni, if she doubted their father, she would have no place here. Ezekiel knew his father would not turn away his daughter without just cause. A dull fear turned in his belly, but his face did not betray such a thing. So at her touch he forced his eyes to become bright again, pushed aside the shadow and the sickness he had carried long before he had been touched by a demon. It was with the face of a boy untouched by wickedness that he smiled at her. “The world isn’t right,” he offered her vaguely.

After a pause, he tilted his head doggishly and winked at her. “Do you still want that food?”

Talitha de le Poer · 03-05-2011, 02:29 AM

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3+

Her stomach had started to ache from lack of food, but the sudden breakdown of her mental facilities left her without an appetite. When Ezekiel gave a wink and asked if she wanted food, she shook her head. It was easy for her brother to pass over the fears his sister had; they weren't his fears, or his concern. The de le Poer princess wasn't afforded that luxury. Her mind teemed with shattered ideals and the onset of fear that lingered around the corners of her thoughts. Inferni was home, but she knew she would be judged as not belonging. Gabriel wouldn't make his princess leave, not without cause, yet Talitha worried more on his disappointment in her; it was an unfounded fear, as Gabriel had never told the russet female that he felt anything at all.

"I'm not really hungry, Zekie." She expected reprimand, perhaps anger, at her fading desire for normalcy. Though others saw it, she couldn't find fault in what she did. Suffering for others. The Lykoi believed she deserved her personal punishment, a penance for her failures in life and to Inferni. She had fled, she had lead Ezekiel away, and she had used the kingdom like some waiting whore instead of a home. She had caused death, fratricide, murder. A sigh escaped her cream maw. "Cook anyways. I might eat something," she mumbled, trying to pacify rage she waited for.

Her underweight body fell to the side, laying to face the firepit with half-lidded crimson eyes. Her fingers twirled auburn curls in tight circles. "Do you ever think of your future, Ezekiel?" It was a topic she found herself drifting toward frequently, but she was unsure if others wondered the same. Time was not a concrete item in the mind of the Luperci woman. She didn't understand hours or minutes or seconds, but days and seasons kept her time. She knew she was born in a winter month, and each new year started for her when she realized she and her twin had moved another year into their lives.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-05-2011, 02:57 AM

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Despite his sister’s sudden lack of hunger, Ezekiel rose and began to gather things for the fire. He did not truly understand the complex torrents of emotion that controlled her. Without such fears he was focused on functioning and nothing more. His mind was less focused on the internal and more on the external, as made sense to the golden-bronze coyote. Dried wood was hard to come by during the winter, but he had made a point to dry several pieces in his den every few days.

With dried grass and flint he started a spark, coaxing a flame out as his sister spoke from where she lay on the dirt and stone floor outside of his den. As the fire grew to a more sizeable tent-like structure, he settled with a rather straight stick and produced his knife from his bag. Idly he began sharpening a point on one end, stripping the bark as he went. “Not really. The way I figure it, God has a plan for me. So as long as I keep living, things will work out.” A shrug, as if this would explain everything.

Satisfied with his first stick, he moved to the deer hide and pulled a chunk of meat from it. This was skewered with the same efficiency as his arrows were used. Those same hands picked at the leather-wrapped bundles in his bag, tossing herbs onto the meat. He was especially pleased that he had traveled along the coast and picked up salt. This stick was balanced near the fire, though it would not be cooked fully through—simply charred on the outside so the flavor was present.

Talitha de le Poer · 03-05-2011, 03:27 AM

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Crimson eyes watched his movements as he worked to start a fire, following the pull of muscle beneath golden fur. For a moment, her chest ached, but it passed as she focused elsewhere. The den itself became a target to her opinion, and she wondered why Ezekiel had chosen that particular den. She knew why she had picked out her own; the close proximity to Gabriel's created a safe haven from her miserable thoughts. The golden prince was nothing like the russet princess, however, and her mind couldn't begin to assume his train of thought in choice.

God. Ezekiel believed that God had a plan set for his future, but his sister wasn't so sure. A dainty claw drew in the dirt on the floor of his home, eyes cast down. "What if God doesn't have a plan? What if He expects you to make your own?" she asked, voice innocent and absent of the distress that passed through her eyes. Her own belief was still steadfast, but manifested in a different way. She doubted their God had any plans for her.

Her twin tossed some unrecognized plants onto the meat before standing the stick near the fire to 'cook', and his sister pulled herself closer to the warmth of the fire. Her hair fell over her shoulders, brushing the dusted ground and obscuring her vision as she watched the flames. "I don't think there's much for me here. Inferni is all I have, and that seems to be failing. That leaves me with you; you'll still love me if father stops, won't you?" Though her voice carried the seductive coating that often accompanied her speech, the words each clung to inner anguish that Ezekiel might leave her with nothing. Without Inferni, and without her brother, she was truly alone in the world.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-09-2011, 12:20 AM

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The first time he had returned to Inferni, he had lived within the human mansion. After his sister had left those walls had become cold and unwelcoming, and the cave he had made his own was purely out of necessity. Facing west, he could watch the sun set and smell the sea. These were things that reminded him of his childhood. So they kept him content and sleeping soundly, smelling salty air and listening to waves crash.

She didn’t seem to think that there was a plan. Had he been more devout, Ezekiel would have chastised her for this doubt. Yet her brother only smiled in that same boyish way, shrugging his broad shoulders dismissively. “I don’t think I could stop loving you,” he grinned. “So if you think you need to make your path, I’ll support that.” Of course, he did not realize she was destroying herself in doing so. If that was the case he would have sought to break her ultimately.

Talitha de le Poer · 03-09-2011, 12:46 AM

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3+

Her crimson gaze watched the flames lick the air as her thoughts turned somber. Their God, the God of their father, protected them, but she didn't believe he laid out their futures. That would make the world too simple, to be given something on a platter. After all she'd been through, she couldn't bring herself to agree with her brother's ideal. God wouldn't have planned out such pain for one of the children who loved him. At least, she hoped that was so.

The words of her brother reassured her of her place in his world, but not of the world around them. Ezekiel would never stop loving her, a fact she so desperately wanted to believe. A heavy sigh passed through her muzzle, body shifting to face the golden male; for a moment, she merely gazed at him. Faint tears built up before the hated crimson eyes she shared with their mother. "I wish I could be more like you, Zekie. Where did all that time go? When did we grow up?" Days had blurred into one solid mass, leaving her confused about how and when she'd reached the point they were at. The deceased uncle who'd pushed her into herself had left marks that hadn't healed, still fresh for the world to see. All that time, and nothing had changed. She was merely older.

She fell back against the ground, staring at the earthen roof of her brother's home with dull eyes. Everything was different, and she just wanted something normal back, something she could use to ground the rest of her world. Despite clear proof of the contrary, Talitha believed she could return to what was; it never occurred to her that God had made her in the image of her family, lacking fundamental sanity necessary to pursue a life of joy. With Ezekiel in her life, everything seemed possible. It was disappointing that nothing was.

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Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-09-2011, 11:07 AM

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If she had known what their father knew, what he had told his son when he lay in agony for two months, she might have understood. God is cruel. That was simply the way he functioned. Why else would Ezekiel be attacked by a demon and his sister raped by one? Why else would their father try and protect them only to have free-will bring them back and into harm? Fate, destiny, whatever it was; these things were cruel. In order to grow they had to suffer.

Her eyes went cloudy with tears but Ezekiel made no move to comfort her further. He had done so once, and further attention would only reinforce a habit. Yet he smiled and turned the meat, touching the crisped section of it with a single finger. Satisfied by this, the coyote looked back to his sister with bright eyes. “Hey, don’t worry too much about it. We’ll fatten you up and you can learn to be a better cook then me, okay? Here,” he said, grabbing the stick with the chunk of meat on it and passing it to her. “Hopefully it’s not too bad.” Another wink, boyish despite the scars on his face.

Talitha de le Poer · 03-09-2011, 11:20 AM

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She's mostly gonna eat now. Gotta feed the awkward anorexic, ch'know? *waves the magic thread-end stick*

Without an answer to her question, the world she lived in tilted to the side just a bit more. She had never experienced a crisis of faith, always blindly believing in the same God as the golden male beside her, but that seemed to be coming to a close. He offered nothing stable, nothing fair. Hardships had proven that to be fact. All her life, things were wrong. Gabriel had sent them away, and she had returned to be with him, which prompted the loss of something she would have otherwise kept. No longer was the damaged girl prone to naivety, or true innocence in her opinions of the world. Andrezej had destroyed that part of her, but opened up a dependence that hadn't been there.

The tears faded as quickly as they'd come, watching Ezekiel's hands turn the meat and listening to his words. They offered comfort in the most minuscule scale. As soon as the shape of the charred meat was passed to her, she sat and backed against the wall. Her teeth tore into the food without regards for decency, not worried if her brother watched her scarf down a meal. She was so hungry, it didn't matter.

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