05-10-2020, 12:30 AM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Glory to death as it stands among them, the stars come down and touch the earth, or maybe it is the sun herself who decides she’s had enough of this listless, spinning world. There is no time for screams to escape the mouths of the innocent: there is light, and fire, and there is nothing all at once. If this is what death feels like, he accepts it as it comes crashing; in that moment he does not stop his clawed hands as they reach out and cup the sides of Emil’s broad face to press their foreheads together. No one can see them now, dead or alive as they are. It is this, and only this - the sun, the love, the touch of his skin. They can melt together, just like this, eyes closed and faces touching, and he will go at peace.
“It’s okay.”
He stumbled out of a hospital and felt the world explode around him, once, bodies hitting the ground as hard as his pawsteps. He’d felt his face hit the ground and the rest of his body follow, the tumbling with the turn of the earth, every sound reaching a fever pitch that screamed in his ears and rang for days to come. It feels like that, now.
“It’s okay.”
The absence of sound and the fullness of it hits him all at once. Screaming reaches his ears, like the earth itself is aching as it splits beneath them and mountains, gorges are formed with the crashing of the waves. He feels water hit his face but cannot react to it, focusing only on the pressure of his forehead touching the surface of the bison’s fur and relishing it as one might follow the light of the reaper.
He might’ve said he loved him. He might have said he was sorry. He tastes salt water on his tongue, waterlogged words caught in the bubbles of air that spill from his mouth. He’s underwater, and Emil is no longer in his arms. His lungs fill with something heavy. Dead, then? Ahab feels himself swimming but does not recall moving his limbs, only allowing the rushing rip current to throw him against the wall of trees that built the now-ragged jungle. Dead, now, for sure - or, he’s jumping the gun once again.
Nothing, again. Unconsciousness. A firm smack on the head will do that to you, at just the wrong angle. Something rattles in his head, strikes the nerve he was told to be careful with. He can hear but he can neither move nor see, and in the fray he can detect voices crying out, names delivered just above the din of the ocean. He staggers up, blinks, heaves sea water among other things
If he bleeds he does not see it, does not taste it in the air. From his skull, the great horn standing jagged above his eye is, maybe, a little more pronounced. He staggers one, two steps, makes a sound that could be a roar if he was in any better shape. The patch over his eye is ripped from his face, having been thrown far into the sea with the crash of the meteor - now the exposed eye, glossy and pale, sits half-open in the socket and still turns as he searches for a familiar face. Emil is out there, as is his daughter and all her children, and may the stars help him if they are still alive after such a brutal breaking of the earth.
ooc: if you want ahab to move your character to safety, please let me know and include their injuries + if powerplay is allowed!
“It’s okay.”
He stumbled out of a hospital and felt the world explode around him, once, bodies hitting the ground as hard as his pawsteps. He’d felt his face hit the ground and the rest of his body follow, the tumbling with the turn of the earth, every sound reaching a fever pitch that screamed in his ears and rang for days to come. It feels like that, now.
“It’s okay.”
The absence of sound and the fullness of it hits him all at once. Screaming reaches his ears, like the earth itself is aching as it splits beneath them and mountains, gorges are formed with the crashing of the waves. He feels water hit his face but cannot react to it, focusing only on the pressure of his forehead touching the surface of the bison’s fur and relishing it as one might follow the light of the reaper.
He might’ve said he loved him. He might have said he was sorry. He tastes salt water on his tongue, waterlogged words caught in the bubbles of air that spill from his mouth. He’s underwater, and Emil is no longer in his arms. His lungs fill with something heavy. Dead, then? Ahab feels himself swimming but does not recall moving his limbs, only allowing the rushing rip current to throw him against the wall of trees that built the now-ragged jungle. Dead, now, for sure - or, he’s jumping the gun once again.
Nothing, again. Unconsciousness. A firm smack on the head will do that to you, at just the wrong angle. Something rattles in his head, strikes the nerve he was told to be careful with. He can hear but he can neither move nor see, and in the fray he can detect voices crying out, names delivered just above the din of the ocean. He staggers up, blinks, heaves sea water among other things
If he bleeds he does not see it, does not taste it in the air. From his skull, the great horn standing jagged above his eye is, maybe, a little more pronounced. He staggers one, two steps, makes a sound that could be a roar if he was in any better shape. The patch over his eye is ripped from his face, having been thrown far into the sea with the crash of the meteor - now the exposed eye, glossy and pale, sits half-open in the socket and still turns as he searches for a familiar face. Emil is out there, as is his daughter and all her children, and may the stars help him if they are still alive after such a brutal breaking of the earth.
ooc: if you want ahab to move your character to safety, please let me know and include their injuries + if powerplay is allowed!
[align=center][div style="text-align:right;width:59%;font-family:verdana;"][font=verdana][size=11pt][color=transparent][url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=13462.0][color=black][b][i]LET HIM WHO THINKS HE KNOWS NO FEAR
LOOK WELL UPON MY FACE
LOOK WELL UPON MY FACE