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 Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 11:19 pm
His wings themselves held little heat, but the gesture itself provided enough warmth as they supported her in a loose embrace. She was blissfully ignorant to the thoughts of darkness and descent that plagued his mind, though perhaps it was for the better... she would undoubtedly be tempted to soothe those concerns, and when she didn't even begin to comprehend the reasoning behind them, it wouldn't end well.
Besides, she understood that a part of him was as dark and unreachable as her malicious half, and would quite possibly always remain that way. It was inevitable, that they had secrets that would never be told, burdens that would never be lifted... but light could co-exist with dark, in some instances. She had little light to share, but what she had would be gladly given if it was accepted.
She prayed that their companionship would foster one of those instances.
Her smile brightened with good humor at his light-hearted response to her joke- for a moment she had forgotten that he could be a creature as hostile as the sire she had never known- but it seemed that a teasing prod at his pride didn't provoke as volatile a reaction as it would have with some. Stranger still, his self-deprivating comment drew a soft chuckle from her lungs, though it was a quiet sound.
Hard-headed indeed.
Taking a moment to assess her own condition, she surveyed her wounds with a barely visible wince. Unicorns, in their selfless act of healing, could not heal themselves, and her own case was no different. She wasn't entirely sure that she would, even if she were able- the memory of her attack was enough to convince her that yes, these physical scars would do well to remind her that she should be wary of her demons.
His calm gratitude and beautiful words of kindness made her pause and blink in astonishment. Blessing? Angel? Surely he was giving her far too much credit... she was as dark a creature as he. What right did she have, to be labeled with those words? Titles like that belonged to the true angels of this world, like her hahaue... not one who would shed the blood of those who offered her a home.
Her gaze lowered at her realization, and her weight shifted uneasily within his winged embrace. She should pull away, distance herself from him, save him the further strife of witnessing her failure to control her kalona half or becoming the victim to its bloodlust... but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Perhaps it was her selfishness, finally asserting itself after the long, lonely years of her adulthood, but she wanted to stay by Shyam's side, consequences bedamned.
But... she couldn't do it without saying anything... without warning him, in whatever way she was able, that her beast could reassert itself whenever it so pleased.
"Angels do not spill the blood of their own kin," she replied softly, although her silver eyes lifted again to meet his own, sadness leaking back into their depths as she waited to gauge his reaction.
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 11:58 pm
Shyam glanced down at the unikalona before him, ears pricking lightly as a shadow dimmed her features. There was a sense of forlorn hurt, of pain that resided in her silver regard; one that Shyam struggled to understand.
She killed. . . .
And that was a problem why?
Oh, yes, he understood that it was frowned upon. Murder wasn't looked kindly on where he had once resided and it hadn't much changed now that he walked the mortal path either. Kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted, such was the way the world worked. If Amaya lost herself to the taste of flesh, to her inner demons and shadows, what exactly was the big deal?
Oh, certainly, it might be detrimental to both of their health; if she attacked him he would only naturally fight back. He wouldn't kill her, mind, but he would keep her fangs at bay and probaly find some pleasure in doing so. If she chose to kill others than who was he to stop her? If anything a part of Shyam wanted her to more fully embrace such things. . . .
Just as he wished her to reach out for that light that he had witnessed, he also wanted her to grapple the darkness within. She was a strong spirit but even the most strong had their secrets, their demons, desires and lusts. Shyam was an instigator the majority of the time - he liked to stirr things up, to see what buttons he could push.
If Amaya craved blood than he would assist such a need. . . .
If Amaya secretly desired good than he could work his magic just as well.
"Than you have never met an angel," he ever so gently reprimanded, his little nubby tail swishing lightly. Reaching over, unable to resist, he could help but lip lightly upon some of her blood stained armor. Watered down perhaps but still tasty. Turning his nuzzle towards one of her ears, he added softly, "take it from me. . . I lived with angels daily and you couldn't believe the sins the most pure oculd willingly commit. And yet their names are praised. . . ." He paused for a moment, recollecting names and faces of those most high.
"Angels aren't perfect nor do I require such a thing; but you have done good where those born of the most holy blood have failed. You have sacrificed more than the self-righteous martyrs and those that call themselves blessed. Take it from an angel, from one who used to be so bold, and know that what I say is true. Just because you harbor darkness doesn't make your kindness any less true."
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Posted: Sun Aug 24, 2008 7:22 pm
Her brow furrowed beneath the patterned steel mask, eyes narrowing in confusion and incomprehension at his casual acceptance of her admission. How could he so easily and readily dismiss the crimes that she had agonized over for so long? Amaya understood that Shyam killed, and didn't begrudge him that... but she was reasonably certain that he did not befriend his victims before he dealt them their death.
It was different, was it not?
If she were to lose herself to her darker half at this moment and attack him in bloodlust, would he understand then? She would likely never forgive herself for the loss in control... no, she couldn't hurt another innocent soul again. Not because of her own foolishness and lack of foresight. Some way had to be found to prevent such an incident from happening again... even if it meant isolating herself from potential victims.
Blinking in surprise at the warm nuzzle to her ears, she rose her gaze to meet his own once again in time to hear his proclamation... and inadvertant admission of what he was, of who he was. The affectionate gesture brought a fleeting warmth to her cheeks, but it was quickly forgotten in the shock that paralyzed her heart when her mind finally registered his words.
'Take it from an angel'?
Silver hues widened fractionally as comprehension finally dawned on her, and it all made sense, in a slightly twisted way. Was he... one of the fallen that she had heard about? One who dwelled in the heavens, but fell to the earth for some unforgiveable sin? It would explain the strange wings she had never laid eyes on before, the otherworldly wiseness he seemed to possess... and if she were to believe his words, the angels that she had revered and admired were not the saints they were made out to be.
Taking in a shaky breath as she steadied her limbs once more against the trembling weakness of blood loss, she looked into the crimson hues she had so quickly come to appreciate and admire, lowering her own head to offer an answering nuzzle beneath his chin- feather light, but still there.
"Nor does it yours," she murmured, fighting the dizzy sway that seemed to pull at her frame. "You cannot convince me now that you don't hold just as much light or kindness, especially with the burden you must bear with your falling from grace. It may be buried... but that light does not simply disappear from one's soul."
A slight pause followed her words, her face heating slightly at her boldness, but she continued to speak. "Perhaps the term 'angel' holds a different meaning for you than it does to one such as me... but if I am worthy of that title, than so are you."
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Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2008 1:03 pm
The stallion's ears pricked a bit at the mare's words. A part of him was surprised and starteled by such a bold claim, and so soon after their meeting. It was one thing for him to speak in kindness but to have another claim him to be an angel?
Well, clearly she didn't know exactly whom it was she was speaking to. Such a thought caused the stallion a small moments irritation, displeased that they had only just met and that she couldn't possibly know the monster that cradled her. And quite the monster he truly was. . . Though he could be polite and kind and even hold a fraction of the gentility he once possessed there was still a darkness about him that didn't allow him to be looked on as holy. He wasn't pure, he was tainted, corrupt, broken and unlike many that were shattered there was no way to heal such mess.
Still, just because she didn't know of the pool of stagnancy, torment and corruption he walked didn't mean that her words had any less of an effect. Though he automatically wished to dismiss such judgment he also understood that he'd be labeled a hypocrite to do so. "Such kindness radiates yet again," he murmured, averting his crimson gaze to stare down upon her hooves.
They were cloven, unlike his own, muddied and stained with blood. She harbored a sense of guilt, it seemed, over causing pain and torment to her friends and others. She felt hurt by whatever it was that she had done that had stained her crimson else she wouldn't have commented about it previously. And yet, despite all that he still found her fascinating and lovely, as many a mare was. . . Her darkness only accentuated her light and part of Shyam was beginning to think that she might indeed harbor a light that absolutely glowed.
"You're far too generous to dub me as such," he began, silken voice falling quiet as the cogs of his mind began to churn. "But I fear you may be mistaken. I see the light you possess and have been fortunate to meet it and cherish it. But you regret murder, you regret pain. . . I feel none such thing." There was no regret to his words, though he was a bit slower to admit such a thing to his current companion.
The angel in him, whatever fragmented portion might still be left, didn't regret his choice. He could still do good and choose to do good but perhaps that was what separated him from the sinners that still worked in heaven. While the angels above could regret and lived in remorse for their actions and duties, Shyam felt no guilt or need to ask forgiveness. He lost no sleep over those he murdered, if anything he often felt joy with taking a life he dubbed unworthy.
He had a chance to be an angel but had ultimately picked his choice. He had chosen Nimue and for her happiness had also chosen his suicide. He had given up his light for her and found it not enough; he had ended things, just for her, even if his life was to be one made of torment. Yes, he had betrayed heaven just for Nimue's love, even if it wasn't entirely requited. His fall had been worth it . . . . but never again could he be dubbed something holy.
Shyam had been selfish.
"I am a selfish creature, Amaya," he spoke, still keeping her weak form wrapped within his wings. "I often live for myself with little thought of others. I'd hate for you to confuse the small and few niceties I possess in to something I'm not and never can be. . . . I don't regret inflicting pain and manipulation upon another. But I also have yet to choose to do such a thing to you. . . and would hate to cause you wrong before such a day and time." It didn't mean he ever would choose to walk such a path, but Shyam also understood that there was always a chance.
It was a risk one took when walking with him. . . and was a risk he was certain would cause the unikalona to shy away from his presence. She might not understand the compliment he gave her, but he did, and a sliver oer him was pleased. Moving on, he added, "You still seem weak. Perhaps I shouldn't have pushed you to your hooves so soon." He brushed his nose lightly against her neck, feeling the tremors move throughout her weakened body. "You should rest, graze, regain your strength." He wasn't about to leave and he certainly wasn't going to let the rain continue to pour upon her. Furthermore, her blood might very well attract lurking predators and any rogue kalona. . . .
Though he wouldn't say it, he wasn't going to leave. Was it truly so wrong for a killer to be a protector? One could say such a thing ran in his genes.
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Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2008 10:47 pm
He was a walking contradiction. Perhaps not in the literal way that she herself was- half healer and half murderer- but did he not realize the conflicting ways he had spoken to her only moments ago? To tell her that he was a killer, and one without remorse or mercy... and then lament that he had pushed her too far too quickly? Selfish, perhaps... that was a trait that every soul possessed, perhaps some moreso than others- Amaya herself was selfish in the desire to remain in his presence when she was a danger to him- but she could not bring herself to believe that he had an evil soul.
"There is no redemption for ones such as you and me, I am aware... but you cannot honestly have me believe that you would attack me at this moment without provocation. Selfishness is something that all of us harbor... it is the only reason that I remain living. That you kill upon a whim... I cannot say that I condone it, but I can't say that I begrudge you for it, either." She paused, allowing herself to lean into the warm embrace of his wings as her strength wavered, but continued to speak softly. "Maybe there is some rhyme or reason as to who you choose to be your victims... I do not know, but I would choose to believe that."
Silver hues closed as she continued, voice dropping a decibel in her weary state. "If you chose to attack me at this moment... I don't know if I would understand it, but I could forgive you for it. Part of me almost wishes that you would- that you could end my misery in at least the company of one who could understand my burden- but I am hopeful that you might provide another solution for it. One not quite as... dark." Another brief hesitation followed, releasing a shuddering cough as a thin rivulet of crimson leaked from the corner of her mouth. Distantly, she was aware that her entire body was burning, throbbing in pain, but it seemed to be numbed in his presence, in the warmth he enveloped her with.
Was it a foolish endeavor, seeking to gain his companionship, risking her entire being for the simple pleasure of calling him a friend? Maybe... but Amaya was never one to take for granted any opportunity, large or small, to gain a valued companion. It was something that didn't happen often, and she wasn't about to let it slip through her grasp so easily... even if it would have been the more intelligent course of action for both of them.
She couldn't believe that he would simply attack her now, with concern apparent in those crimson depths, with his feathered wings wrapped tenderly around her form, with his muzzle brushing her neck in what she could almost consider an affectionate manner. No matter what he said, there was light and goodness in his heart... probably more than he himself knew or wanted to acknowledge. It would do no good to point it out to him, as evidenced by her attempt at such earlier... no, such things had to be broached cautiously and with time and patience, if ever.
Content for now simply to remain at his side, a soft sigh escaped her lips as she lowered her head to rest against his shoulder, making sure to keep the sharp tip of her horn away from his skin- but her eyes snapped open in alarm at his calm suggestion that she rest. Was he going to leave, just like that? Would she ever lay eyes upon him again, converse with him again, if he did? The possibility that she may not filled her with an emptiness that she couldn't describe or comprehend, though it did not show through her gaze- she had long learned to keep those things to herself, as it never brought about anything good.
The feelings, however, made her pause and contemplate in disbelief and a bit of dismay. Was she so attached to his presence already? They had only known each other for a short time, and she barely knew anything but his name and that he carried a weight not unlike her own, but it was enough. She wanted to know more... and she wondered if he felt the same. Her eyelids drooped in exhaustion, but she fought it with a shake of her head, clearing the drowsy haze from her vision as she raised it again to meet his own.
"...Are you going to leave, if I do?"
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Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 6:26 pm
The stallion said nothing for a moment, absorbing her words and attempting to place them within his shattered logic. She chose to believe that he possessed some sort of standard and rule on whom he abused and killed; she chose to believe there was more good in him than he himself understood or knew. She chose to believe that he was a better creature than he was and the ebony stallion felt touched.
Oh, he still knew without a doubt she was wrong.
But a sliver of him wanted to let her believe whatever she wished. Too often did many assume the worst around him; too often did they believe him to be a brutal, mindless killer that was searching only for his next meal and next moment of bloody glory. As it was, the stallion held no objection to oblige such ideas. . . . And yet here the unikalona believed something he himself couldn't see. She believed him to be good, or at least possess some fraction of his former goodness. . . . She believed in him and some imaginary light. . . so who was he to argue and ifght?
He could give her that goodness so long as she believed.
Shifting ever so slightly, the stallion turned and bared his fangs. They were long, sharp and well morphed in to something that could easily snap bone and saw through flesh. For a moment he pressed such fangs against her neck, away from her armor, allowing her to know all he had to do was bite and her blood would once again spill. He said nothing as he did so, nothing but his warm breath tickling her damp neck. "It is good of you to believe," he finally broke said silence, careful that his teeth didn't graze.
A part of him wanted desperately to bite down, to allow carnage to ensue and to prove that he was indeed heartless, souless and damned. A part of him felt no reservations when it came to condemning her, ending her suffering and pain and wallowing in her blood. . . .
Then again, another part of him objected. A selfish part of him, a stronger part that found himself fascinated by her every move and thought. Was she perhaps the mare that he had fallen for? Was she the one whom he had given his all for? No . . . she couldn't be. . . . could it? Oh, if only he could remember; if only he could piece together the emptiness and put a name and face on what he considered his most beloved.
Any mare could have been her. . .even Amaya.
Removing his muzzle and fangs, the stallion heaved a shaky sigh and gave his tail a little swish. The thunder had ended but the rain fell harder now, causing the ground to turn in to mud and his hooves to slowly slip within the sludge. Thankfully the trees attempted to provide shade, and his wings even more over the unikalona's figure, but the night looked to be ugly and damp. The night would move on, the clouds eventually would clear, and part of Shyam assumed that the mare would eventually take her leave.
His presence wasn't particularly charming, afterall.
But the mare moved in a way which surprised the stallion. She rested her head against his shoulder as if she had some minute need for his presence. . . . and then actually questioned whether he'd stay or go should she rest! How . . .how. . . how strange!
Crimson stained eyes drifted down to meet her own; she needed sleep and rest and otherwise needed to get off her hooves. A small smile crept across his features, a genuine spot of good humor lighting his gaze, foreign as a feeling was. Well wasn't this an interesting predicament he found himself facing. . . . Canting his head, ever so slowly, he couldn't help but ask, "Does it matter either way if I do?" Surely it couldn't. . . His mind was struggling to grasp the concept that perhaps it might; somehow he'd manipulated her WITHOUT intention for a change!
Ah, but Shyam couldn't stand to leave the mare struggling for words. He honestly didn't expect an answer and before allowing her to speak continued on with his own answer. She had asked him a question and it was his duty to properly respond. "Either way, I will be perfectly frank in saying that I shall not. Blood stains the air, even amidst the storm, and I should think it unwise to leave you be." Furthermore, he would kill any who dare touch her. . . .
Tonight, if he were lucky, he would feast well.
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Posted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 8:44 pm
She was unable to prevent the instinctive tensing of her body beneath the press of his fangs, the affected skin twitching under the discomforting stimuli as her own incizors clenched in involuntary response. After a moment passed, however, and the pressure didn't increase, her muscles relaxed, jaw releasing itself from the unconscious strain. She didn't truly believe that he would harm her, especially with no provocation... but it was impossible to ignore the thinly veiled threat behind the gesture, especially with her own history of hostile encounters.
A soft sigh was expelled from her lungs as silver irises lifted to settle upon his form in a melancholy stare, sympathy shining through the metallic depths. Why couldn't he believe that there was something in this world for him other than hate and bitterness? For the longest time, she had been tempted to believe the same- it would leave no room for disappointment, for failure, for regret... but her hahaue, Gaia-okaasama, Ezriel-san, and even Shyam-san himself... they had all proven that the hoping was worth something, in the end.
Even when redemption for yourself was lost... there was still joy to be found in this world, was there not? Or, at least... to make someone else happy.
How could she prove that to him?
Her gaze was sad as she lowered her head, dipping it beneath those dangerous fangs and resting it against his chest, undeterred by the rigid stance of his frame. Gently, she nuzzled into the slightly coarse, wet fur, careful to keep the sharp edges of her steel mask and the point of her horn away from exposed skin. There were no words, there was no other action behind her movements... no suggestion of an ulterior motive behind the gesture, other than the offering of warmth and affection.
"Hai, Shyam-san, it does matter to me."
Amaya was sure that there wouldn't be an immediate change, and he may not even believe that she wanted him to stay simply for the desire of his company... but she could show him that she was sincere in her belief of the light he harbored, even if he didn't believe in it himself. He might never... but Amaya was never one to give up on a lost soul.
Shyam was kinder than he let on.
Her eyelids were getting heavy, and she swayed slightly on her feet as her eyes became unfocused. A soft smile graced her features despite the exhaustion at his quiet admission, relief clouding her already hazy senses as her weight leaned into him a small bit as her balance wavered. Her breath escaped her mouth in a whisper, carried along the wind as her drenched forelocks clung to her fur and his.
"Arigatou... sumimasen..."
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Posted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 10:48 pm
It . . . . mattered?
Once again, and not the first time that night, a sense of surprise came over the stallion. How was it that the unikalona continued to throw him, continued to say and do things that the majority of the world would not? Why was it that she continued to cast him in to untrodden territory, territory that caused him to raise a brow and hesitate?
Shyam was no spring chicken and he always lived a life of action so why was it that he knew not how to handle Amaya? Why was it that she caused his intrigue to grow, that she managed to side step his reason and logic, that she didn't follow 'the rules' of the world? His life and presence wasn't meant to matter to anyone. . . so why dare she say that it did?
Ah, but she was tired and out of sorts. She had lost blood, she had lost energy from healing his wounds, and it only made sense she wasn't thinking straight. It had been a long day for the mare, or so a sliver of him imagined; after a good nights rest she'd be back on her hooves in no time. . . . and only then truly relaize whom it was she claimed matter.
He was a killer. . .a fallen. . .disgraced by choice and without regret for the lives he stole. The fact that it mattered whether he stayed or went had only one answer. . . . and the one she spoke wasn't it. Regardless of his certainty of the fact, the winged stallion couldn't help but allow a silken smile to cross his features, bemused, but he said nothing.
They were but strangers, in a sense. . . two lives that drifted together and would soon part. Amaya would come to her senses and he would continue to taint, corrupt and otherwise manipulate the world. Strange how this rainy night allowed a small reprieve upon such spirits. . . .
It was a shame it would be over too soon.
Glancing down, he hid his surprise well as she pointedly cuddled against him. Her face was pressed against his neck, he could actually feel the heat from her form against him, as well as the cool press of metal. . . If it had been any other mare, if it had been any other moment the silken tongued devil might very well attempt to draw her to a new level of darkness. . . .
But he respected the unikalona - she was no victim, she was no toy. . . She was Amaya, a kindred spirit, and one that seemed to rock his world. Shifting where he stood as the ebony soquili's feet began to buckle, the stallion tightened his wings around her to cushion her fall. It was time for her to lie, and with great, almost tender care the ebony and striped creature urged and insisted she lie.
"Sleep well, angel," he shushed her apologies, making sure she stay settled before rising. "The shadows won't hunt you tonight." Such would be his promise to her, such would be his eve. Standing near, wings still outspread even as the rain fell, Shyam had no intention of leaving her side. He would stand sentinal once more after years of playing the hunter.
There was good in the most evil of hearts. . . and for a little while, it was if he were back to his former glory. What tricks were the spirits up to? For Shyam only time would tell.
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