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 Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 6:08 am
Rules of Romancing.
xxx( Hasani Rahal & Soraida Keopichenda. )
xxx( la mort noire - - xx & Sephiros Immortalis. )
xxx( The Shore. )
xxxxx♚ ♚ ♚
Finally!
Hasani let out a sharp breath, stretching his arms over his head, fingers grazing his bare shoulder blades. Classes were out; classes that he'd attended for once. The eighteen year old had never been fond of uniforms. Clothing of any sort other than that which he'd worn back in Persa. It was constricting, hot, stuffy. It had taken what seemed like ages to get out of the Common House, and now that he escaped, he was still unsure as to where he was going. Ciphar was huge, there was no doubting that. However, Hasani could only go so far now that evening was coming. He could stray all night, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to deal with the consequences. Tying his pale brown hair back into a high ponytail, Hasani took a glance back at the Common House. Light poured from the windows, but they weren't inviting.
Sighing, the Persan turned, intent on getting as far away as he could in the course of a few minutes. Padding along the rough trails, Hasani took careful, lazy steps, passing the training grounds and the edge of the forest. His mind wandered. It had been so long since he'd felt comfortable, and the growing unease in his stomach was just begging him to lash out. He wanted throw a blow, and he wanted someone to throw one right back. He craved a fight, a dance, a one night stand. Things he knew were near impossible to get with the small population of the island and the likelihood that he was living in the same damn building as the people he'd be making passes at. And that was not attractive in the least. But a few more weeks of this and all caution might just be thrown to the wind. But for now, Hasani tried to hold out. Which was hard considering that the loss of company was foreign and uninviting, but what he'd been living with nonetheless. Twisting, the eighteen year old paused, wondering just where he was headed. Nowhere, really. Great.
The roar of the ocean caught him off guard. A faint, distant sound filled with seagulls and sea salt. Filled with fickle intrigue, Hasani moved towards the shores. His mind told him off. What if there were people there? Not that he was any sort of introvert, but that would just be a cruel taunt towards all of the sharp tongued comments he'd been keeping in check. But lady luck had it out for him, as when he reached the sandy turf, it seemed almost barren. Salt tang stung his eyes, and strong winds greeted him with licks and nips. Kicking off his boots without much thought, Hasani slid down the slight slope to the shore, white sand sticking to his feet and calves as he rolled his pant legs up. His fingers twisted tightly around the jeweled anklet before he let go and stepped forward into the surf, the powerful waves licking his legs.
Sighing, Hasani began to trek along the beach, lazy and ignorant of the time. The sun started to sink, dissolving late afternoon into early evening. He made it along the shore, wondering when to turn back, when to head home. But something kept him going. Something forced him not to return. Minutes felt like hours and his thoughts wandered, until with a sway, Hasani paused in his step. He stared up at the deep gold and purple sky before tilting back, falling. He fell and the surf hit him, licking at his face, washing into his mouth, choking him for a moment. When it returned to the ocean, Hasani coughed and took a deep breath, now flat on his back, soaked and covered with sand. For a few moments he stayed in silence, before finally propping himself up on his elbows and staring out at the great expanse of water. For some reason, he felt a deep seeded emotion clawing its way into his gut that he couldn't quite name yet. But it made him long for company. A company that he did not think he could find, not now.
Not here.
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Posted: Tue Aug 03, 2010 4:32 pm
It was his exploratory nature that had brought him this far, pulled him up from out of the depths of Ciphar's civilized society and out here...to where things still felt wild, and that bitter tang of sea-salt in the wind beckoned to his impetuous desires like the tears of a disconsolate lover. It was worlds away from the confinement of the swamps, a place where the air was never clear and clean, tainted somehow. Not like this place...Somehow it felt as though everything had been washed in anticipation of their arrival, a sparkling whiteness to every surface, and the ocean was no different. Already Soraida had made his way through the town, the gardens, their own quarters....but this... This stole his breath, a fierce lady beckoning to him to bask in her untamed beauty. Ne'er before had he beheld so very much water, much less the sort that moved in a sinuous dance, prancing up and onto the lands in an open invitation to garner playmates.
Running down to the seaside, chucking boots off to feel the sand between his toes, yet another marvel, as the stuff was so fine, grainier than a fine mesh rug, but with all the depth that he relished. As the tide swept upwards, it dampened his pants, running up his calves only to slide teasingly back down again. Chuckling softly, he leaned forward to brush his fingertips through the water, the entirety of his surroundings seeming rather ethereal, otherworldly. Travelers had told of the sea, traders that he'd spoken with, and whilst he'd always understood the existence of such a thing, to see it and experience it for himself was quite another. No wonder they wrote ballads and poems about a body of water.
Grinning, an idea came rushing upon him, and the young Azhe abandoned maturity for a few moments, for once caring little for the upkeep of his appearance, and digging digits into the dampened sand for a moment, he then went barreling down the shore, an elation rising up in his chest that felt almost as though it would choke him, so immense was the emotion. The crash of the waves pummeled at his senses as he sprinted through the shallows, the waves his merry comrades in a spontaneous game of tag. They licked at his heels and threatened to trip him in his thoughtless dash. There was simply so much energy within the very core of his being, this the first truly joyous place that he'd beheld since he'd been brought to Ciphar. All else seemed blank, devoid of color, but the waters... this reckless lady...this alluring mistress, had touched something within his soul.
As the sun dipped low in the sky, the colors of sunset played upon the waters, Soraida finally slowed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and as adrenaline released her brutal grasp upon his person, he was forced to take great gasping breaths, lungs screaming at him in exertion. Pushing spray-damp hair back from his features, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, limbs trembling having been forced to go so far in such short order. Ah gods, but that had been beautiful. There was no place back home...to simply run, tossing all thoughts to the four winds. This seemed a dream, and it had pushed the slender Azhe into an almost giddy state.
As he was now, he almost missed the form in the sands, soaked by the tides, regarding the sun's farewell upon the shifting waves. Stopping a stone's throw away, he raised a hand. "Evening..." Somehow, formality did not seem an important thing now, of no value whilst lying at the feet of the tempestuous ocean. A capricious friend allowing an easygoing setting where normally such would have been painfully awkward. A lazy smile appeared on his features, scanning the damp young man before him, Soraida continuing his approach until, had he been on Hasani's level, he could have touched him with a hand. Following where the others gaze had been fixated, he sighed wistfully, wishing himself a part of that dancing color scheme, the whites in which they were clad seeming drained of life amidst the glow of evening. "It paints a pretty picture, doesn't it?"
Not that the teen he'd stumbled upon wasn't a part of that picturesque setting, as a matter of fact, he was, seeming almost a thing dreamed up in one of Soraida's drifting fantasies. That someone should be here, in his fretless moments, it seemed fate's way of enriching these too-quickly fading seconds. How very kind of such a fickle mistress.
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