undeserving - open; contemplation

[rhosmari]

FIRE AND "BRYMSTONE"

Sunlight filtered across cream colored figure as he finally stepped through the open gates. He allowed himself to breathe, to attempt to he at peace with the world but a nagging continued to pick and pull at the fringes of his mind. Troubles he never tried to allude or give anyone a reason to pry into his mind. This was not a time for him to show any kind of weakness. Metal covered claws dug into the hard rocky ground, some green pushing up from the crags to try and give it some life, but this close to the mountain it would shrivel and die from the heat that it exuded on a daily basis. The lava fields had once been his playground when he had even younger and without a care in the world. He tried to think, were they watching him then? With scorn in their eyed as the late Dragon raised a disturbing outsider? He wished he had a muzzle to curl in disdain as his eyes rolled in odd sockets. He knew that there were still those that opposed him as King. He knew that there might still be dissent about it even if he had proved himself. Not an Ironfolk by blood but by action alone.

Lifting his eyes up he looked at the molten river before him. The cliffside it plunged over to meet with the ocean. He thought back to how the strange illness claimed the late Dragon. It had happened so suddenly and claimed him quickly. The lion became nothing but a withering husk struggling to maintain himself. The rattling cough that echoed on the third floor. He remembered his own fear at having to be without him. In the end, there was nothing he nor anyone else could do for him and so he proclaimed him King. The looks, the whispers, the murmurs of that freak. He sat down heavily and wrapped his skeletal scorpion tail around himself. "And so it begins. An outsider wishing to claim his place. I'll have to be strong against any uprisings." Yet he hoped that none would happen. But only time would tell.

AND I'M BACK TO MY WAYS, CAUSE I'M HEARTLESS
SEVEN YEARS I BEEN SWIMMING WITH THE SHARKS NOW

Reggan

[SirDio]

To DeadWonderland, no one within the Forged was a freak. There were oddities, yes, but none she would title as a freak or monster. To her, their oddities only added to the variety! And who didn't love variety? Madmen!

The gentle tap of metal against stone and lava-rock could be heard from behind Brymstone as Dead walked up to him, a small smile on her face. "Hey, there's some dull bastards in the Forged, i think we can both agree on that. They fail to see the variety you bring." She sat beside him, taking a look at her peg leg. "Honestly, I can't wait to see what you bring to this place. You're more worthy than most of these ironfolk." She offered a smile to his grinning skull, a small hint of earnestness in her voice.

OF CANDY, AND JAM, AND ICE CREAM! [color=#ac778f]"Dead Speaking"

[mars.]

Willful the construction and subsequent upkeep of ignorance, errand only a fool may tend to. Once he may have permitted such, a safety precaution drawn taunt against the delicate chambers of untouched heart, shied from the iron that settled at their core. Long had been the time since such measures had grown more taxing and offered meagre profit, discarded alongside the naivety childhood is built around. Almost he wished to take the mantle once more, the ceaseless hum of contempt that rang through the halls piling up.

None was about him, of no matter any of it, so why must his heart grow heavy in his chest and his anger become magma searing his taunt veins.

Minimal the escape the heat scoured world beyond opened gates offered yet advantage taken, along crags treading, observed the lacking growth that adorned volcanic land. Visited upon beyond these shores laden with rubble and stone winter, yet here a distant dream had it grown, chased from old bones a chill he had tasted only on expedition elsewhere. Almost fond the gaze he cast where the ocean lapped at the shore, broken as voices arose, conversation he was not privy to and thus uninvited within. Curiosity a cruel and dangerous thing, trajectory shifting until he may enter a proximity permitting identification.

The boy king seemed courageous, even as evident grew his dour disposition, the final snippets he caught from Dead making clear enough thoughts he had caged behind empty eyes. "It is just empty talk," soft the rumble Dylluan allowed to tumble from lips shifting ever slightly upward, singular corner brief in the rise, lopsided smile falling in moments. Comfort meant, though if achieved he cared not to check as vision settled upon the flowing magma. "You're una us, they just can't get their heads outta their asses and accept that."

Do you accept that?

Mocking voice rang through his head, heavy the breath that arose from nostrils, head lowering slightly. Had he been strong enough to admit such dangerous truth he would have permitted a resounding no to bypass his lips, yet upon tail may chase a for now.

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such a daring disguise, look me dead in the eyes and cry when every stare has you gasping for air. won't you tell me why you're here, there's blood in the bag leaking love isn't fair, you can crawl back from where you came because I don't hear you the same

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code by Wisker

[rhosmari]

FIRE AND "BRYMSTONE"

Melancholy began to seep in like an old friend he hadn't seen in a long time. He knew what was right and what was wrong. He knew that it was better to work with others than to squash them like mere bugs beneath his paws. That had never been his way, at least not recently. He had once been within cruelty's mind's eye and he had once thought of how to get revenge on those that thought he was lesser. Now here he stood with the power to do so and yet he stayed his paws. He watched and he wanted to understand their worries and concerns. His ears swiveled to turn as he heard someone approach, a voice familiar lingering in his audits. He knew her. Knew of her. A careless chucke left his jaws as he turned to look toward her, tilting his head slightly at her tone. The implications of it and he hoped that it was true. He brought variety. The spice of life. An outsider's vantage point. Yet the chuckle he gave was nerves all the same. "Frankly I hope you are right about that. But the Ironfolk have done well to live by their suspicion. I don't take it too lightly. They have a right to it, as do you too." They all had one, their right to not trust anyone that tread upon their borders. It had leaked into him as well, the need for proof.

But his thoughts twisted themselves and he turned to look upon the eldest to arrive. Dylluan he gave great respect to. He was older and therefore much wiser in his eyes. He had seen more than the Dragon had in his four years. Though he seemed to accept him as King the twisted individual merely snorted a bit. "You'll both spoil me at this rate. But I do thank you for your words. I want all of us to be strong, I want the Ironfolk to be feared. The Iron Forged should be a name known across the Beyond. I want to make that happen." A dream that needed to be a reality. He cared little for taking land, he just wanted them to be known.

AND I'M BACK TO MY WAYS, CAUSE I'M HEARTLESS
SEVEN YEARS I BEEN SWIMMING WITH THE SHARKS NOW

Reggan

[mars.]

With age comes wisdom.

Witness to such, and other methods of deliverance pertaining to message same at core, yet ease had dictated his disregard. Minimal the worth behind years seen passed when unutilised, each a mere vessel, a manner in which to garner the true worth found in experience. For such he may grow humble but assured of his acceptance, his days a trivial thing when contest was staged between time and lived ordeals.

Slight the fondness that seeped forth through uplifted corners, beyond himself the chance to halt such before it began to bloom, a delicate ghost of a smile unnoticed. For only so long such occurred, realisation paired with a tremble, a desire to rid himself of it. It lingered there, however, seemed almost more prominent against soft blue backdrop. Cruel the moniker of boy he handed other with such fluid ease, such in eyes weary beneath jade, though no longer may he be called such. Fool the one to disregard how dogged the vitriol towards Brym had been, even from the days he was a fresh face among their ranks, despised for favour of their king had he received.

"Only speaking the truth." And he was. Still the title of King rankled, seemed embers burning his tongue as it was held and swallowed, but hope was still there. Retained his neutral mindset for now, all the same particular the fleeting warmth in eyes that touched upon visage of bone.

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such a daring disguise, look me dead in the eyes and cry when every stare has you gasping for air. won't you tell me why you're here, there's blood in the bag leaking love isn't fair, you can crawl back from where you came because I don't hear you the same

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code by Wisker