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 Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2012 10:26 pm
Rakitanos was not precisely what one could consider a happy individual, though he was making a considerable effort to appear so. Although it had been some time since he had last seen Cylistine - and, by extension, Eriesyi - he still kept up a calm façade, as though there was nothing that could possibly trouble his great and noble self. For in the event that he did see them - in the unlikely event that perhaps, just maybe, they would grace him with a visit - the last thing he wanted either of them to see was how truly broken he had become.
Over his years of warring with her, Rakitanos had come to develop a deep respect for Eriesyi - one he could never really show, even now, but one that caused him to appreciate her company more than she would ever realize, let alone deign to appreciate. She had no fondness for him, nor could he blame her for feeling as such, but with his realizations he came to realize not only his wrongs, but her strengths. A part of him had wished to reconcile, but he was wise enough to know that some things would simply never come to pass. The only thing he could hope for was a lesser degree of hatred, which would not be achieved if she saw him as weak, he was certain. So to that end, he could not allow his pain to show – just in case, for some unfathomable reason, she met with him.
As for Cylistine, Rakitanos could not bear for a moment causing her another second of grief. He knew if she saw his pain, she would be upset by it, and that was not something he wished. He wanted only for her to be happy, for her to move past the darkness he had wrought upon her and her loved one, and live the life she deserved. A part of him felt that it would be best to wish she forget about him entirely, but his heart could not bear to wish it completely. It was lonely, without her, his den a darker place. The thought of never seeing her again, while a just punishment for his actions, was too painful to contemplate.
It had been nearly six months since he saw them last, and for all his careful attendance to appearing unaffected by the change, there were signs that the Dragon was depressed. His den was meticulously organized to the point of obsession, which was entirely unlike Rakitanos, who preferred to have things strewn about if only so his home looked lived in. Now, everything was so precisely in place that it was almost eerie. Even the floors had been polished, the cleanliness a sign that Rakitanos was seeking ways to distract his mind without having to leave his den to do so.
Six months he managed to survive this self-seclusion, his home becoming more and more like a prison cell with each passing day, though he seemed oblivious to his own actions. It had taken him nearly half that time to figure out how to sleep properly again, without the aid of Cylistine or the fear of a nightly attack – and then worse, with the realization that he would no longer have his nightly chats with Cylistine, compounding the loss of her all over again. He had spent much of his first few months on edge, waiting for attacks that never came, then eventually hoping for them if only to have something to do with himself. It had been at that point the cleaning frenzy began.
Now, six months later, Rakitanos had finally reached the point where there was no more denying his need for distraction and, even greater than that, his need for companionship of any kind. He could not bear the thought of leaving his den, yet he could not bear its silent emptiness any longer either. With no recourse, no easy compromise, the Dragon finally caved and took flight, coasting on the winds and allowing his body to take over for a time, flying on automatic more than anything else.
He didn’t know how long he flew or how far, all he knew was eventually, his wings tired, which was a signal to look for landing. He saw a town ahead and, pinpointing an inn and bar, dove to a landing nearby, assuming anthropomorphic form without much care or thought. He was a handsome male, broad of shoulders to help bear the golden hued wings that came with him in this form, and quite tall – as was to be expected of a male of his species.
His hair was long enough that when slung over one shoulder, the tip of the tail rested about the middle of his upper arm. Golden eyes and golden horns marked him clearly as something unusual, for while the wings could be explained by some breeds, his horns were quite distinctive. All the same, Rakitanos paid little heed to his appearance as he entered the inn and made way to a table, taking an order for a tankard of mead the moment a waitress approached.
The inn smelled of woodsmoke, ale and all manner of people, which was almost an assault upon his senses after so much time in his unnaturally clean den, but it was a welcome attack. The sounds of chatter, the cluttered nature of the small space, and the smells all combined to the desired effect of making the Dragon feel less alone. With the help of the coming mead, he hoped to feel less of everything, with the proper application of much of said beverage.
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2012 11:11 pm
Balios Victor a well known flirt and renegade royalty was somewhat of a conundrum. He was a gentleman no doubts, or at least he could be but he was often far too busy being something of a tramp. It was no secret that he indulged in the pleasures of the flesh on a regular basis, nor was it a secret that it was with a new person every night. Besides his notorious ways of seeking out a new bed partner every night, there was also his record as a heart breaker. He never stuck around with one person for more than a few hours at most after the act. When asked why it was he did this, the answer was simple if a bit offensive.
“They aren’t interesting enough.”
It was that simple, Bali was tired of boring, and the everyday. He had an amazing amount of skill with his tongue, and not just when it came to talking. Aside from all of this he was also a slight sexist, women were below him. Meant for staying at home and raising children, doing the simple task of taking care of the housework and rearing; the easy tasks of the world. He could be an exceptionally ugly person on the inside.
Yet, here he was sneaking out of his mansion once more, sneaking away to one of the unsuspecting little towns. He descended upon the sleepy little town finding his way to the inn in search of something, someone of actual interest. Who would be his victim this night, who would fall prey to those sweet lips and that silken tongue.
Balios entered the inn, pushing the door open with one hand. A hush fell over the crowd as he entered, so obvious as it was that he was not a common born anything. His hair twisted high up in a ponytail, a beautiful chestnut brown laced with gold laurels and chains. Gold cuffs around his arm, and his clothes of a very fine material. He was a delicate little male, which hid his true strength especially with a blade. His skin like marble, flawless and beautiful, looking almost untouched in its perfection. He was without a doubt the most striking creature in the room at the moment.
His eyes drifted across the crowd before falling on the poor unsuspecting dragon. Now this was curious, he had never seen someone that looked like this. This male, with his broad shoulders, and large horns, he was not from around these parts of that Bali was sure.
He moved forward with a dancer’s grace, a predator’s gleam in his eyes. Catching the tray from the waitress that had been bringing it to the male, he took it from her and moved to settle himself in the chair across from Kita placing the mead down on the table between them. “You my dear look absolutely depressed, why don’t you tell me about it sweetie?” He asked in a voice like velvet and honey, reaching out a hand to place it over Kita’s in a comforting manner.
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2012 11:55 pm
Rakitanos had fully intended to simply sit amongst people in order to assuage the sensation of loneliness; he had not in fact planned to actually speak with anyone. It had been too many years since he had spoken with anyone other than Cylistine, quiet conversations held in the dead of night before the battles would begin anew. Before her, before the war with Erieysi, Rakitanos had been a carefully secluded creature. He had not been fond of company, and had preferred his books and ancient tomes in favor of conversation.
There would be times when he would find favorable discussion with a librarian, a historian or even a tale weaver, but for the most part, Rakitanos had been a creature of solitude. His time with Cylistine had taught him the comforts of having someone nearby, the pleasure in having someone to protect and the wonder of coming to love someone so dearly. His war with Eriesyi had taught him the pain of regret, the understanding of sorrow and the deep loathing associated to realizing your own actions were entirely indefensible and your love a stolen lie.
Then, after learning all of this, he had returned to a solitude more complete and isolating than ever before and realized how bitterly alone his life was. None of this added up to a man capable of easy social interaction, and in fact left him considerably inept in comparison to Balios – which, in this event, could very well make the Dragonfar more vulnerable than he realized.
Accepting his mead from the stranger who joined him, Rakitanos slanted him a questioning glance, before his eyes fell to the hand that rested itself over his own. It was a wonder, really, that he did not flinch from the touch, though his wings lifted outward ever so slightly, somehow seeming more like a cat turning its ears forward in alarm than a bird fluttering with panic with the action. Gold eyes seemed to burn as they gazed down, Rakitanos finding himself struck dumb by the touch.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been touched in this form.
There had been no changing, during the war. He simply could not bear to risk it, this form too vulnerable for him to dare risk exposing to Eriesyi, and though Cylestine would occasionally curl herself next to his side during their brief times together in the night, it was not at all the same as feeling her hand on his. The feeling was intoxicating, the mere touch of a hand leveling his intellect to dust by the sheer shock of how much it hurt and how much it soothed all at once.
Gathering his wits with considerable effort, Rakitanos turned his gaze on Balios finally, taking in his appearance with the quick assessment he had once been known for during his treasure hunting days – days that should not have ended when they did, but war has a way of interrupting the natural flow of a Dragon’s growth and maturity. It was clear that Balios was a man of wealth from what he wore, and the feel and scent of him was an indication that he was of nobility, though there was something about the scent that seemed almost contradictory to that, though Rakitanos could not place quite what it might be.
In the end, he simply cast his mind back to what the man had said, before giving a slight huff as it was recalled. Taking up his mead – using the hand not currently being touched – Rakitanos took an admirable chug before setting it down and replying, ”How many years do you have, to even begin to touch on the matter?”
It occurred to him, then, that he gave away too much with that answer, and he closed his eyes with another, softer, huff. ”Heed me not. I am far from good company just now,” He stated, giving both warning and permission – the man could go, or he could stay, but if he stayed he would do so knowing his companion was not in high spirits. It was the closest to social politeness that Rakitanos could muster in his state of being at the moment.
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Posted: Sat Sep 29, 2012 12:24 am
Bali waited through the silence of his partner with ease. He didn’t flinch as the wings were raised nor did he pull back. He simply sat and waited for the other to relax and come out with some sort of answer. Which the answer that was given was much too… vague for Bali’s liking, it was clear that there was a deep sadness here, and it wasn’t that Bali overly cared about that beyond his general curiosity but he could damn well play that he did. If it would keep this charming creature around and perhaps lure said charming creature into his bed then he was willing to do it without complaint.
“Oh, I see.” He said softly with a gentle tone as he patted the other’s hand. He didn’t say anything past that for a long moment. “Well, you know, I really don’t mind. I am more than willing to listen. I honestly have all the time in the world.” He said pulling his hand back and folding it in his lap. He gave the other a charming little smile before tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ear.
“I understand though, if you don’t want to tell me. It’s probably a personal matter, and something that is deeply painful.” He paused for a moment letting that sink in before he lowered his voice even more and adopted a sort of mellow almost sorrowful look. “I will not leave simply because you don’t feel you are fit company. Sometimes people need a little comfort and you just have to do it.” He said softly looking over at the other male. The fact that this was an extremely heartless thing to do, to play with one like this never even crossed Bali’s mind, which really said something about his morals and character.
“I understand you know, I’ve been hurt too. It’s not just you, so you don’t have to feel all alone. I mean, I’m sure I haven’t had it as bad as you but… I do know about pain.” He whispered again looking at his hands in his lap seeming a bit bashful honestly and like he wasn’t sure if he should be sharing this right now. “Won’t you let me help you? Perhaps we can prove a viable distraction for each other for the night at least.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 7:16 pm
Rakitanos was quiet as his hand was patted, his gaze looking toward Balios as he once again offered to listen to the woes of a stranger, a concept that Rakitanos could not fully bring himself to comprehend. He watched the man a moment, as he tucked a strand of his hair back, admiring Balios for his lithe beauty in a distant sort of manner. It was difficult not to notice, but it was not enough to break Rakitanos of his melancholy, thus the disconnect between the gaze and the appreciation that should have been there.
Balios’ words and expressions were well placed and his acting was quite sublime. Perhaps if Rakitanos had been of better temperament, perhaps if this encounter had come to pass before the Dragon met with Cylistine, he would have recognized the deceptions for what they were, but as the encounter did not come at such a time, the despondent Dragon remained quite unusually hapless to what he was dealing with.
The quiet comment that Balios too, knew of pain, drew Rakitanos from his melancholy contemplations, his eyes of molten gold raising from where they’d fallen to gaze into his tankard of mead, to once again meet with the gaze of the smaller male. His mind did not follow the path it may have been meant to when help and distraction were offered, but he did seem to relent somewhat, his wings settling into a more relaxed stance and his shoulders sloping downward slightly in a manner that showed he was allowing Balios to remain with him but would not be putting on any airs.
Thus relaxed, Rakitanos stated quietly, ”I’ve never been one for companionship, truth be told. I preferred solitude, until I discovered her,” He could not bear to state Cylistine’s name at the moment, but it was clear from how he stressed it that there was a deep ache for something long lost, as opposed to any form of bitterness. ”At first her company meant little to me. I was interested in her beauty alone. A treasure, nothing more.”
A rueful smile, and the tankard found itself relieved of half its contents in what appeared to be a single swig. Set down again, Rakitanos stated quietly, ”She was a treasure of a different sort, by the end. I grew…accustomed to her. Came to love her, even, I think.” Shakes his head, for he knows he loved her, knows well how much he loved her, but he had never had a right to the love he felt for Cylestine. Had never deserved to feel that way for her, and so he knew he had to let it go. It started with carefully denying having ever felt such an emotion, he knew. With time, he’d be able to shut it out entirely, and regardless of how dangerous it was, Rakitanos also knew it was the wisest course of action. For Cylestine and for Eriesyi, but mostly…for himself.
”To make short of a tale centuries old, suffice to say I did not deserve her, and it took centuries at war to discover such truth. Now, there is no more fighting, and she and her love are happy as they should be, and I…do not know what to do in the silence.”
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