|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 11:57 am
It was dusk, the sky erupting into searing violets and reds, tinting all the world below in it's soft haze, the warmth of the day only just beginning to relent in it's wake. It was an unusual time, suspended somewhere between day and night, yet like neither of them. The herbivores ambled onwards as usual, oblivious, casting elongated shadows against the ground that seemed to dance and move like sprites. All the world for once seemed at peace, content in the endless motion from day to night, unstoppable and unchangeable, the way of things.
Mrost hated it.
He sat beside one of the many waterholes that dotted the lands, glowering out at the slowly setting sun and the creatures that revelled in it, his incredibly blue fur only slightly tainted by the light. He resented them and it because they were alive, because they were happy and that was not the way things should be, it struck a dischord in his soul, made him bristle and moreover reminded him how apart from nature he truly was, war was not a natural thing, it was a result of corruption and hatred, therefore in many ways he was inorganic, his horns and claws dissimilar to typical leonine claws, his blood a thick violet rather than the usual black-red.
Life was expendable in his opinion and that was the way things should always be.
He stretched, flaring out his barely-there wings against the firey backdrop and yawned, as he did so letting out a typical leonine roar. Things were not changing fast enough for him, the smell of contentment and life passing by was sickening.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 3:56 pm
Bathed in the orange light, the small form of a small white lioness slowly moved through the patterning grass. Phib had long gotten used to her sudden and often unexplained absences, and although she rarely stayed out long past mid-afternoon, she was in no hurry to return. She enjoyed the setting sun- although it was the rising one which she might have reflected more readily upon. Her rounds had been made for the evening, and they always put her in a good mood.
She liked taking special interests, although how she chose them was really mostly subconscious. Améh was always present in forms of the healing process- but sometimes particular situations needed more of her attention then others. It was tricky- she couldn’t heal so much that one forgot what pain was. Life needed some pain, or else it wasn’t functional. It didn’t please her, but she had lived long enough off and on to understand that.
But they were heavy thoughts she had pondered for centuries, and she was less inclined to start the moral battle up over again. Instead, the small creature headed towards the scent of water; and more particularly, the slight pull she got behind the back of her ear which told her she was missing something.
She came upon the large blue lion as dainty and mortal looking as she always did with the others- although no doubt he’d know the difference between her token illusion and what she was. It made her apprehensive to suddenly be in the company of another like her- she rarely spoke to other gods, and even less did she appear readily. Today however...she was feeling whimsical.
"Such a quiet night," The female daintily spoke, her pale ringed eyes averting towards the setting sun. If she had said it directly to Mrost- she made no implications of it, although as she crossed besides the waters, it was rather clear she had aimed it towards the other God. She had not, however, made eye contact just yet.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 4:16 pm
Mrost hadn't been expecting any other lions around, generally most slept or hunted around this time, depending on their habits, leaving the waterhole untended. However, as movement in the corner of his vision tugged his attention away from his dormant fury at the quietly settling sun he blinked, catching wind of the rather subtle sense that this female who'd caught his eye was not all she seemed.
Angry as he was, he wasn't in the mood to start a trivial fight on his own, as he'd noted many times before, it just wasn't war if you were on your own, it was just nonsense. As he looked her over, invasive as usual, always giving the impression that he was weighing one up for a fight, he noted that she was a frail looking, dainty creature and had that look about her that in his eyes just begged to be marred and tainted. But like Eir, a goddess he held close to his battlescarred soul he didn't feel that put in the position, he really could harm this goddess either. Mortals were all he normally felt like harming, his own kind, other than his damnable brother were classed neutral in his eyes.
"You say that like it's a good thing." he spat sarcastically, flopping down onto the stone on which he sat with a grind of metal. "Quiet is peaceful" somehow he managed to give the word "peaceful" all the properties of the word "scum".
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 4:31 pm
The white lion hiked her ear up slowly, and turned her face to the battle worn male. She knew him well- although it was unlikely War took much time to notice those that had to follow behind him and pick up the pieces. Always moving on for more– Améh frowned, and lowered her unusual eyes. But by the time she lifted it back up, her expression was gentle, and almost impish.
“Too much loudness is no good for the ears, I am thinking,” she replied. It brought a slight smile to her face to think of it- and she reaffirmed the idea that she would not appreciate a night full of nothing but a cacophony of loud noises.
Haphazardly, she sat, and glanced down at the water. In the fading light it was hued orange, although some of it was already starting to slide into black. “It is peaceful.” She admitted, as if he hadn’t said it as a curse, but as an observation. "Does it bother you?" Améh quirked. It was obvious, but- she didn't have a reputation of trying to be a particularly cunning figure. Although it was very possible she hid a lot of what she knew.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 31, 2006 3:46 pm
Mrost died too often to remember fully those gods who were responsible for picking up what his element left behind, still partially limited by a lack of belief, his memories before his betrayal were scattered fragments of emotion and conversations that he couldn't put together. He glanced over at Ameh with a frown of his own. Loudness was something he longed for, the sounds of screams, distant battle in the night, the sound of animals setting up alarm calls over the battle that raged in the dark. "Too much quiet is bad for the mind though." he stated bluntly, an allusion to how torn up and close to crazy he felt trapped in a world where wars took great time and effort to begin.
He nodded without hesitation. "It doesn't just bother me, it pains me, grates on my nerves perpetually. Peace is an offense to life, too easy, too boring. A creature born and dead in a world without war and conflict is a creature that never truly lived. Until it begins, I am dead inside." Since meeting Eir, Mrost had grown less guarded as concerned his own emotions, beginning to grow secure in the fact that those who embraced their failings, eventually eradicated them.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 01, 2006 9:12 am
Such bitter thoughts! Améh did give them consideration, however, because she was one who spent a large amount of her life considering other people and their feelings. It had nothing to do with her divinity- it had developed into a kind of hobby. But if it did not have optimism in it, she rarely found herself adapting a new belief system. “I would think the mind thrived in peace,” She spoke softly, her head ears shifting. “Hard to hear yourself thinking when everyone is yelling at once. But- they say quiet can be deafening.” Not that she’d ever experienced such a moment when it was too quiet to think.
“A creature who never fights may have wished he did, but I have rarely met a warrior that did not long for the pain to stop.” In her own mind- Gods like Mrost simply abused the mortal inclination to wanting what it was they didn’t have, even if they rarely wanted it in the end. The world would always have it’s warriors- but of them, how many of them really fought for the sake of fighting and Mrost’s gospel?
But they were perhaps too serious of thoughts for the small creature. She furrowed her brow and turned away, her young face perplexed, and almost oblivious looking. "I would love a day without fighting." She admitted.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 12:21 pm
Mrost smirked "Maybe only pure minds thrive in peace. The mind of a warrior only gnaws at itself in the darkness with the lack of things to fight. They hear the voices of those they've slain and hope for the morning. So yes, in my case, silence is much too loud." he curled his tail behind him, his mind briefly on images of war, of times in the darkness when regret came to sow it's seeds amongst his men, tormented their dreams. Silence was an enemy.
"Perhaps they wish for the pain to stop, though in all too many cases the only way for that to happen is via more fighting, more battle. Warriors are forged of neccisity, the battlefield would only be populated by suicidal madmen in any other case." He knew he tricked mortals into fighting to the death for him, with every soul given up for his cause a delight to him. "It's just up to me to create those, ahem...neccisary situations." his grin turned almost mad in the darkness, war was not good for mortals, but it was good for him and in Mrost's mind, that was al that mattered.
He glanced over at her delicate form again and asked simply "What do you believe then? What gives you reason to live if not fighting for the things that matter?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2006 9:13 pm
Améh frowned, and looked away, her ringed eyes somewhat wavering between a clarity and the dazed expression she typically kept. She hesitated- for although she did like to occasionally make poignant remarks, she never wished to be considered intelligent. Whether she was or not was up for debate as it was- but she was humble. She would rather play the fool then play the wise any day. The wise could easily loose their way-
“Believing...” She replied, her wide eyes shifting towards him. “I have never felt the urge to fight. I know too intimately what fighting does. I feel it all the time...” Her voice trailed. Not in any particular tragedy; but in a manner that seemed to imply she had either lost her train of thought, or suddenly misplaced the word she meant to close the sentence with.
It was obvious speaking was coming somewhat awkwardly to her- but finally she did conclude herself.
“Nothing I could ever want would be won by fighting." She said, and her face fell to a gentle smile. "What am I to want anything, yes?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
