06-10-2021, 09:13 PM
![[Image: b8HzBLA.png]](http://i.imgur.com/b8HzBLA.png)
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tw // death mentioned throughout (but no actual death)
Life had been dark for far too long. Cold, though sweltering blackness that stretched as far as the eye could see. After billions of years, they had adjusted to the stygian emptiness, had learned to accept it; to welcome it, even. The darkness was home.
They used the term "life" very loosely. Rather, the undead, though they weren't sure that quite fit, either. They had never been alive to begin with, simply existing in the unyielding blackness of... Time.
They thought that perhaps every time they had been hauled weightlessly out of their hole in the cosmos and into a warm body might be considered a life. In which case they had already died, many, many times. Is that what life was? To live and to die? One might think that, as one of the single creations to have existed as long as life itself, they would know the answers.
They didn't.
They hated it. Life was a nuisance, and even worse was death. They hated that all living things had to succumb to something so... Empty. To their brother of all beings. If he even was a being at all.
Perhaps this is why they did not revel in the twisting, tugging sensation in their gut that accompanied a calling. If the being could sigh, they would. Instead, though with a feeling of resignation; they succumbed to the call and allowed themselves to be lifted from the vast emptiness they had once again become accustomed to.
At last, they felt the warmth of a body once more.
It wouldn't last. It never did.
Loose flesh rolled grotesquely over muscle and bone, folds of skin filling out as a new being, bigger than their last not in physicality but in divinity; manifested within the cage of... Life.
The scent of roses filled their nose, turned them dizzy. They stood, slowly, as muscle and fat seemed to melt, their new form becoming gaunt and sickly. A groan passed from parched lips as joints popped back into place, as bones rearranged inside them. Their eyes blinked open as they registered the feeling of slimy wetness seeping down their fur, flattening hair to their body. They chuckled. Rose oil was a familiar sensation, though to wake almost drowned in it every time... It was maddening.
They twisted and turned to examine their new body, deep hums rumbling from within their chest; a lion, broad and skinny with a thick, shaggy, pink mane, their pelt a lavender-grey. It would do, they decided. They quite liked it. There was a certain... charm.
That in mind, they moved from the makeshift stone "altar" at last, paws crashing down into the sand with a thump, joints crackling in protest. They payed it no mind, sauntering over to a cluster of wax candles slowly and, after a heavy beat, blew out the flame.
Finally.
Life had been dark for far too long. Cold, though sweltering blackness that stretched as far as the eye could see. After billions of years, they had adjusted to the stygian emptiness, had learned to accept it; to welcome it, even. The darkness was home.
They used the term "life" very loosely. Rather, the undead, though they weren't sure that quite fit, either. They had never been alive to begin with, simply existing in the unyielding blackness of... Time.
They thought that perhaps every time they had been hauled weightlessly out of their hole in the cosmos and into a warm body might be considered a life. In which case they had already died, many, many times. Is that what life was? To live and to die? One might think that, as one of the single creations to have existed as long as life itself, they would know the answers.
They didn't.
They hated it. Life was a nuisance, and even worse was death. They hated that all living things had to succumb to something so... Empty. To their brother of all beings. If he even was a being at all.
Perhaps this is why they did not revel in the twisting, tugging sensation in their gut that accompanied a calling. If the being could sigh, they would. Instead, though with a feeling of resignation; they succumbed to the call and allowed themselves to be lifted from the vast emptiness they had once again become accustomed to.
At last, they felt the warmth of a body once more.
It wouldn't last. It never did.
Loose flesh rolled grotesquely over muscle and bone, folds of skin filling out as a new being, bigger than their last not in physicality but in divinity; manifested within the cage of... Life.
The scent of roses filled their nose, turned them dizzy. They stood, slowly, as muscle and fat seemed to melt, their new form becoming gaunt and sickly. A groan passed from parched lips as joints popped back into place, as bones rearranged inside them. Their eyes blinked open as they registered the feeling of slimy wetness seeping down their fur, flattening hair to their body. They chuckled. Rose oil was a familiar sensation, though to wake almost drowned in it every time... It was maddening.
They twisted and turned to examine their new body, deep hums rumbling from within their chest; a lion, broad and skinny with a thick, shaggy, pink mane, their pelt a lavender-grey. It would do, they decided. They quite liked it. There was a certain... charm.
That in mind, they moved from the makeshift stone "altar" at last, paws crashing down into the sand with a thump, joints crackling in protest. They payed it no mind, sauntering over to a cluster of wax candles slowly and, after a heavy beat, blew out the flame.
Finally.
thoughts in italic white + attack in bold black + roleplayed by SYKES