[html] | | Winter nights had a very particular quality to them, of silence and solitude. Of a reflection that Poe was tired of seeing, and a cold that she was too accostomed to. She might have looked for someone, a stranger with a streak of kindness and laughter to banish it for a night, but there was no one. She lived alone now, and company was dreadfully few and far between. It hit her as the sun was setting, a frantic, instinctual drive to escape this emotional carousel that the snow-dusted landscape was setting her up for again. Quickly, she moved to the coast, to the ocean and its powerful expanse that peeled the frost and snow from its beaches with the promise of relative warmth and a different mindscape to view. Past the spot that she had rolled onto shore after Europe, and the memories of a haunted something that had been lost entirely. Beyond the ship that carried a fistful of memories with a different face, but threatened to a similar fate. On to the half-tide sandbar that led to an island, the tiny paradise that never fully touched the mainland.
Or its reality, Poe chose to believe then, moving hurriedly through the sand until her feet hit water. It was cold and salty, a shock to the senses that woke her body and mind from its emotional swamp. Her breath caught in her throat and her fingers on the hem of her dress, pulling it out of the way as she began to wade, knee-to-thigh high into the water. For any average werewolf, the depth would not be such a bother at this point, but the current pulled close enough to Poe's center of gravity to bring her to a fullstop once she was sixty feet in. And there, under a hollow moon and an expanse of stars, she looked from Thunder Island, to Lightning Bay, to the dark expanse at her right. Of these, the belly of the ocean and its abyssal in-between had always wanted her the most it seemed, and she considered this as her toes dug into the cold sand below.
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indent Rachias had taken over the room that had once been Misery’s. It was not a shocking turn of events for Ahren to find her gone, considering she had pulled this vanishing act many times over. Still, the fact that he was once again stuck watching after a child (even though she was self capable) gave him more reasons to avoid the world on whole. He could barely be found in Clouded Tears anymore, more often wandering through the empty streets of a ruined city, struggling with self loathing and denial as he considered the things that had come to pass.
indent He walked without real purpose or thought, a cigarette hanging in his left hand, soft footsteps in the snow. It was quiet, and it was dark and cold. There was no comfort here. He could smell the coyotes on the wind, think idly of his son, his former mate, and leave these things by the wayside. He considered throwing himself into the sea to experience what could happen. This thought was torn asunder when he spotted Poe, standing in the water, moonlight playing on her figure. He stopped at the expanse where the water met the sand, but said nothing. It was a beautiful moment.
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[html] | | It was a long way out to nothing. She was quite sure of that, but the pull was still seductive and kept her considering it for a moment longer. Not hoping for nothingness, for that cold, isolated sink—that would be what turned her around in the end—but for the well worn approach of (usually figuratively, but there were exceptions as this) going with the flow. For good and bad, it had taken her to more scenes, more faces, more experiences than she had imagined as a stubborn, dreamy child. If what will shall be, then she was exempt from the responsibility over the results. All of the goodbyes that she had bade, and the few she had left without. She shivered then, clenching fabric between her fingers and turned around in full. The day that she might resist the current was distant but there, as she found fewer hands to grab onto further down the shore, and her own power became a factor. But right then, right there, Ahren stood watching her from the shore. Angelic tones and devil’s eyes, he was suitably surreal for her train of thought, and left her staring in silence for some time before making any move. His presence always struck a particular chord in her, one that never rang out a tune that she could get a hold on but set her into movement. But it seemed crisp and clear from across the water, and she was certain that right then, he was precisely who she wanted to be near.
Without disturbing the lap-lapping solo of the expanding shore, Poe reached out a dark arm and motioned for Ahren to follow her out.
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indent Maybe someday the ocean would rise up and swallow the world whole. The apocalypse was something he would be curious to see. Perhaps things like that happened when someone died—they saw the end of the world; at least, their world. Yards away from him, the dark girl with her mother’s eyes held out her hand. Without thinking, considering anything, he moved. Under his feet the water pushed away from the sand until that cold shock of a black sea hit him. Still, though, he walked forward, taking the waves as they came.
indent Soon he was at her side, and in that darkness, found nothing to say. He wanted to explain everything, to tell her he had realized that he didn’t need Matinee anymore, that he was dancing with addiction again, and that he was confused and just wanted everything to go away or go back to what it had been before. Not a word passed his lips. Instead, his right hand reached out for her left, he felt her palm on the carved number, and found comfort. They were alone here together.
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[html] | | He came to her with loaded eyes and still lips, taking her hand in his. It felt warm, strong, a little calloused and very solid in that liquid moment, allowing her breath to relax. To loosen her grip on the panic and rage, thoughts of things lost and others never found. Physical contact soothed her, and Ahren instilled an unusual sense of trust in her that she examined for a second with the sight of light and dark palms pressed against one another. There was no sense in dissecting it, she quickly concluded, its significance minored in the context of this night between these grave-deep waves. Her eyes (mother’s eyes, more acquainted with Ahren than this devil’s daughter) reeled back to his, open and patient for something. Words perhaps, but she still spoke none as her aching legs lifted from the soft, cold sand below, and began towards the island. The waves shook her and the current dragged at her heels until the very end, while Ahren’s offering kept her secure.
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indent Touch was a primal sense, one he cherished, hated, forgot, and lost in cycles. Far too often did touch leave him with scars, or deformities he would never speak of. It was not a matter of hubris, but self-respect. Ahren believed in self-preservation above all. At his right, Poe moved, and he trailed with her speed, barely feeling the cold water. After so long, the soft ground lost its chill and they were on the island. Ahren paused there, and looked up to the moon. Barely realizing what he was saying, the blonde spoke. “My mother used to love the moon. She told me stories about how all the animals in the world once live up there.”
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[html] | | Poe had a skewed instinct when it came to self-preservation. A piece of her, or what once as close as could be, pushed her onto the brink of physical destruction, and left it unclear if it also reeled back, or if that was simple luck. There were too many questions in that consideration, leaving this D’Angelo to ignore the reason, even in times of desperation. Even when she ran along coast lines, twirling with the disturbed dusts of what ifs and maybes. Perhaps like some adrenaline junkie, she had come to love destruction on some plane. Placing her hopes on the impossible and diving in.
“I like stories like that,” she responded quietly, a distantly manipulated breath. She was still aware of the temperature, the tension in her muscles and the drain of water down furred legs, but her sights hung from the moon and her forethoughts on the words and ensuing imagery from her side. “Did you believe in them?” Louder now, but in the same nature. Thavardo had never been more than a rumor, mentioned once between the two a long time ago. If he looked like her, she remembered. Poe had hoped for an insight then, a point of similarity to keep the mysterious city boy from leaving. She wanted him to stay now, too, but for very different reasons. He was no longer a mirage against a setting sun; he was just the broken puzzle of Ahren, a strangely-placed friend that would walk her through the ocean.
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indent “I used to,” he breathed out, eyes locked on the ghostly-rainbow halo that surrounded the moon. “She told me that the reason the animals came down here was because a rabbit and the moon got into an argument. Then the sun found out what the rabbit had done and turned all the big animals against him.” He smiled faintly, turning his head down. The realm of religion and mythology was one he had walked precariously in, even now. “Do you believe in them?” He asked her then, red eyes turning back to the dark-haired girl who so long ago had shown him that there was hope in the world.
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[html] | | "No," she answered him, the word warm despite its connotation. She had not believed in the stories her own mother had told while she and Samhain dozed at her side, of Tak and Ankh and the origins of earth and time. Nor had she believed the holy scriptures she would come across in Italy, or even the ancient tales of sea serpents and the birth of stars. She too moved precariously from story to story, never sinking her toes too deep into one or another for fear of missing the next and forgetting the last, or maybe a lack of trust in them all. But it was those stories and pictures that churned the imagination and propelled her forward, one way or another. "But I love them." Despite of? Because of? She could not explain her reasoning and did not attempt, instead choosing to give his hand a firm pulse and move to soft, dry land. The beach looked like an untouchable tropical paradise, but the air licked with a chill and the sand reflected no heat from the moon, and she kept close to Ahren.
"I'm glad you came here." The statement came without premeditation, to explain the grasp of her fingers or the lean of her shoulder. Words had never been at her command, but they crawled from her throat anyway. "I think I needed it. Or you." Because she had been walking too close to an edge before he came. Because even his side felt warmer than she had felt in a month, and it peeled away a numbness. "One of those nights," she murmured, allowing her gaze to skid from one end of the beach and back before climbing up Ahren's limbs to his face again.
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indent Literature flowed through his veins, striking it at odds with the opiates he could not chase away. Still, though, he understood why she loved those stories that they could not believe because he loved them too. Escapism was a part of every child’s life and for those conceived in rape and wretchedness, there was nowhere else to go. Everything in those stories worked out, even if not for the better. It gave him something to look to and contemplate, to declare difference to. They were not those characters—they were not their fathers.
indent Each word she spoke brought him a little closer to understanding what they shared. The music in her voice was more beautiful then he had ever imagined it could be. Smiling in spite of the times, he kept his eyes on her face. “I’m glad I found you,” he said quietly. And without thought, without reason, his free hand trailed up to her face, held it gently, and he planted a soft kiss on her lips.
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[html] | | There was more common ground between the two than she had, and likely would find outside of her bloodline. Perhaps because much of their lives had been spent in the same orbits, circling Chimera, Misery, and various searches for things neither had found. It was strange as such, that they had never really collided before. But now, a sweet and small kiss drew on a gravity that Poe had not expected to come across tonight. It pulled her body closer to Ahren's and a led a hand to graze the paths between his ribs from front to back, from beginning to end of that one kiss.
Their eyes were inverted mirrors, she thought in the instant they opened, red and green. Abstract and consumed by him in that instant, she studied his face with care for a moment, a warm breath. Then her eyelids and lashes bowed to him and her toes lifted her into another kiss, heavier and potent.
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indentIt no longer mattered what had or had not passed between them and their families. They were absolutely alone on this island, on this planet, and they recognized that now. So they clutched onto each other, spinning complacently in the dark, with only the here and now. He spoke a little, though he could not remember the words. Above them, a dark sky moved on, as ignorant of their deeds as it was of war, famine, birth and death. No matter what else happened, it would always be there.
Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel
indent Down and deeper and they blended their souls, touched and felt and breathed each other in. He lost himself in her, in the action, in the instinct behind it. He needed her, tonight. He needed her because she was going to be a part of him, because she always had been. He didn’t have to promise her anything, they both knew that. This meant everything, but this meant nothing. He might have been laughing, he might have been crying, but he didn’t know anymore.
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade in your city by the lake
The place where you were born
Believe, believe in me, believe
In the resolute urgency of now
indent When they were finished, he lay next to her on the beach, smoking, watching that sky and the too-full moon. He didn’t realize it, but this was the first night he didn’t think of her.
The indescribable moments of your life tonight
The impossible is possible tonight
Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight
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[html] | | Stunning post, Mel. Pardon my tardiness.
Edit: This post was revised for a more conclusive ending. And because it was weird(er) before. :|
It was not meant to be, but for that stretch of time, that length of flesh, Poe welcomed it for what it was. Their fall into a sensual abyss came with a startling suitability. A unique moment in the right place at the right time, she found planes of a strange and striking body that fitted her own. She was a fierce lover who spoke no words, but communicated rawly, confidently with her body and eyes up until the last seconds when senses melted and blurred into something so far deep, it seemed far away.
When the heat had left her body and the small island in its big ocean came back into focus, she held and released a long breath from her lungs. A heave of her modestly unclad chest, a drag of limbs, she rolled to her side to face her one-time lover. The moonlight reflected from his pale form, highlighting details in his fur and alluding to the structure below. He looked different to her, now. A little more complex, a little more familiar or closer to her source of comfort. Naive perhaps, as these things rarely came as simply as she made them out to be, but it left her unabashed and unconcerned for the wake. So a hand stretched out across his stomach and draped over his side and her cheek melded against his shoulder. "Well," she murmured, tasting the smoke on this tip of her tongue as she did. "The night has changed." Her gaze carried across and beyond Ahren's profile to the constellations surrounding the belly-full moon, and she too, did not think of a lost her.
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