|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 5:19 pm
"This is a test, my name is Rye."
"This is a test, my name is Rye."
------
Cold rain fell and refused to stop. It poured down in sheets, and the lake's waters, normally silvery and clear like the surface of a mirror, rose in swells, swallowing the shore. Rye sat on one of the large, slippery rocks overlooking the lake, his feet dangling down. He lay back, looking like a corpse washed up, and closed his eyes against the water. It made him stronger, he could feel it. Idly, he dug his fingers through the rock he lay on, digging tracks through the stones. Rye was soaked to the bone, and he preferred it that way. The chill permeated his skin, slick against his bones.
Around him lay pearls and gold trinkets, braids of soaked silk, jewelry with semi-precious stones. He hadn't dredged all of this up from the lake, but they were the most recent spoils of his treasure hunting, which he occupied himself with all day. He always let Rhea see the treasure first, and she was gifted whatever she liked best. That was how it went. Rhea was always invited to help him, as well, although he could swim to incredible depths with his ability to process water.
The rain was starting to ease up, which made Rye less content. He relished the rain. He opened his eyes, reached his hands over them to shield them. His palms were slick with blood, blood that went up across his fingers. The rain washed it off, slowly, but there was so much of it. He closed his eyes, opened them, and it was gone again. Had it been there at all, really? He could taste blood in his mouth, smelled it in the rain. Who knew? The blood of another was such a trivial thing. He licked one of his fingers, as if testing for traces of it, and then let his hands fall to his sides. He moved up on the rock, so that his whole body lay prone on its smooth surface. The slick side of the rock almost felt like Rhea's sealskin, but colder, less familiar.
Beyond his mundane musings, he ached, because he was missing a part of himself: Rhea, with her smiles and all the goodness that he was not. And he was not good. He was everything that he would never allow Rhea to be: bloody, vengeful, chaotic, sadistic. He relished the pain of everyone but his twin. More than once, Rhea had stopped him from drowning a naive passer-by. Rye closed his eyes again and grasped his locket with one hand. He kept what was in that locket a secret to everyone. Why? It was said to be magical, that inside that locket was a picture of Rye's true love, or loves.
Without opening his eyes, he squeezed the locket and mumbled, "Rhea..." the tiniest of smiles forming on his lips.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 5:43 pm
 A chill rain permeated Rhea's skin as she traipsed along the shore, going at her own pace as she mused over what her brother might have found. For a moment, she felt a pang of jealousy at his ability to delve into the deeper waters even in more turbulent weather, but it was quickly pushed aside as the sandy coast took on a more rocky terrain. The pale Twilif was utterly soaked, having forgone any afternoon plundering for just a nice, long swim. The ocean had had so much to say, and sometimes it was nice just to be able to listen and forget the world beyond.
But she always came back for her brother. The thought of him brought Rhea back to the present and lifted her away from her thoughts as she scanned the area for signs of him.
"Wonder what he's found today," she mused with a little smile. Perhaps not one of her better qualities, but Rhea loved just going through what treasures Rye would have found, feeling like a child for a few moments and without another care in the world. Spoiled was a relative term in her mind.
There, up ahead, she could see something move along the rocks, the tawny hues more visible now that the rain was letting up. She sighed and shook her head, picking up her pace as she bound towards the little cove where her other half waited. Though she wasn't prone to admit it aloud, Rhea felt the distance between her and her brother quite keenly, almost as much as she would if she'd lost her precious skin. The two were synonymous with being a part of her, and more than once they'd been able to point each other out if the distance wasn't too great.
Sure enough, there was Rye, stretched out on the rock with one hand clasped about his locket and the other simply held out before him, as though he was searching for something she couldn't see. Rhea slowed somewhat as she caught his expression, wanting to give him what space he would need and also debating whether to try and sneak up on him. Not that it usually worked, but you had to give a girl points for trying, right?
"Daydreaming, brother mine?" she called quietly as she scurried up to join him on a nearby rock, a thin braided coil of seaweed bouncing against the side of her face as she smiled down at him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 8:00 pm
Of course, he had heard his sister bounding up the rocks, but he tried to save that knowledge, and instead embrace surprise. Pleasant surprise, opening his eyes. He moved gingerly, so as to not disturb the treasures around him, but swiftly; it had been too long since Rhea had left for the ocean. He would have gone with her, but he was busy combing the lake for some things he had left behind the day before. Rye hated leaving things unfinished, and that included leaving any treasure behind. His sister also couldn't follow him as deep as he needed to go, so it didn't make sense to punish her by making her stay with him while he delved. It sometimes took him an hour down there, fighting the muck and the murk.
He left the treasures on the rock he had been lying on and leapt over to Rhea, folding his sister up in his arms and breathing in the slick scent of her skin, the seaweed, listening to her bangles and the rain falling against them. It was a strange kind of heat, holding Rhea close, the rain keeping them both chilled. A constant fight between the rain and their own heat, not that Rye generated a whole lot of it. "Daydreaming? Why would I be daydreaming?" Rye whispered, his wet hair plastered against his forehead and cheeks, slipping against Rhea's face a little as he held on tightly. He pulled back, and hopped to his own rock, gathering up the treasures. "Rhea," he began, "Would you like to pick some gifts?" Rye smiled, his eyes glittering. The sun almost seemed to break and shine on him at that moment, but it was just a passing cloud that happened to let a little extra light down. All the same, it would have been appropriate; Rye's smile looked like he could lasso the sun and rope it down for his twin, if he wanted to. Rye would much rather secure her the moon, however; he found it more lovely than the sun. Rhea was his light, whereas Rye was the darkness. Deceptively angelic darkness.
"Anything you like, they're all yours, as far as I'm concerned," Rye added. It had a repetitive quality to it, as if he always said the same thing, made the same offer. If he could, he would always stay close to Rhea. It was better for his true nature that he didn't. When he was around Rhea, he felt softer, as if he was better than he truly was. He felt like he could do good things, be kind to others. That thought amused him, once he parted from her side. Rye was not that good. He enjoyed the pain of others, he liked to see them drown, feel the life snuffed out. That was what sustained him; pain, blood, fear. It was easy enough to feed on the fear alone, but it was a thin sustenance. Nothing like it felt to take a life. Except when Rhea was around, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. She was so bright, he couldn't hurt her that way. Even if his nature was far darker than she'd care to admit, or than he would expose her to, the knowledge was always there.
Rye idly slid his hand by his bandages, where he had wrapped up a gift for her. It was a secret, this one; a gift he had chosen for her himself. He had paid to have it done, since the material was too soft for him to work with. Pearls he dove for once, sewn onto a velvet band with a thin ribbon at the center. The pearls were attached to the ribbon, as though framed by its sheen. It was special. He wanted it to stay dry, so he had also bought a thin casing, no thicker than his finger, a box made of stone. It was a little heavy, admittedly, but he had bandaged himself extra tightly, pressed the box against the small of his back and hidden it there, where his shorts obscured it. His sister might still find it, but he would do his best to keep his back away from her.
Rye waited for her to help him relocate the treasures to the shore, so that she could take her time picking and choosing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 8:38 pm
Rhea smiled at her brother, happy to see the familiar face and feel the deceptive warmth of his embrace, his inner chill hidden beneath and masked by the rain. She couldn't help the little laugh that bubbled up in her throat at the feel of his breath against her neck, tickling her ear.
"That's what I said at first, but there's no one else out here to play with, so if it wasn't that then I'd have found some mystery washed up on the shore." Her sea green eyes danced as she teased him. She had on more than one occasion referred to Rye as a mystery of the depths, and heavens knew he had a least a few of his own. Though she could never really guess at the true extent of his dark nature, she knew it existed and tried to do what she could to ease things along into a better semblance of balance. Some days it was harder than others, but on days like to day with only the sea and sky to accompany them, things were usually much more pleasant.
"You found more?" She could blame it on being the younger sibling if she felt like it, but the truth was that Rhea just loved the trinkets her brother found. They usually had a story behind them, even if the two of them didn't know it, and she liked making herself seem like a living sea sprite, complete with glittering trinkets that rang like little bells when they clattered together. Her eyes went from her brother's gaze to the things he'd set out about the rocks and back again, knowing he wouldn't trick her about it but unable to withhold her delight anyway. Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck.
"Thank you, Rye!" She knew he didn't have to hand over everything he found, only knew he liked it and thus didn't question him beyond that. She had to laugh again, shaking her head. "If I chose everything, we'd never find enough room for it all." Which was saying a lot, all things considered. Their home wasn't overly distinguished or opulent, but it was definitely large: it had to be, to store what the two of them brought home.
"So what were you thinking of?" she half teased as she helped him relocate the treasures. Part of her wanted to know her brother more than she already did, to know him better still, but she also knew he tended to shelter her whenever she got a little close to whatever he wanted kept hidden. Still, she couldn't help but ask; her curiosity had a tendency to become overwhelming at times, so strong and as much a part of her as breathing.
The fact that he kept his back to her did not go unnoticed, but she just shot him a curious look a time or two when she thought he wouldn't be looking. Oh, she knew something was going on, but with Rye, "what" was a good question sometimes, especially if he felt like being cryptic.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 3:34 pm
Rye felt calm, despite the scene of turmoil around him: the turbulent waters picked up as the rain got worse, returning to its original state. It made him feel good, as though the temperature of the lake was dropping to match his own. He worried sometimes about his sister's comfort, but she was of the sea like him. His worries, he knew, were unfounded. They would both be happy so long as it rained, and he would keep his exceptional strength. He hated sunny days, because it felt as though he was drained; he barely left the water on those days.
"Mo chroi, you make it sound like it's unusual for me to find more treasure," he answered. Instead of laughing when he found something amusing, Rye's voice often got softer. He almost seemed vulnerable in those moments, smiling gently, speaking so softly. That was the tone he used then, addressing Rhea. He was almost startled into laughter when Rhea threw her arms around his neck and thanked him. He buried his face in her hair again and cradled her gently, breathing in the selkie smell again. He only held on for a heartbeat, before letting her go. It was as if he was scared that by holding on too tightly or for too long, his secret darkness would escape out, and taint his sister. Rhea was not to be tainted, as far as he was concerned. If he never used his violent nature for anything else, he would at least use it to keep her safe.
It was true; if they kept all their finds, they'd never have room for it all. They would live in extravagant piles of coins, but what kind of pillow was a coin? Rye preferred sleeping in a hammock, because he would sway himself gently, and it was as if he slept in the ocean's waves. The netting for his hammock was custom made, fibres from the ocean's creatures and plants. He never brought anyone back to their place. Why would he? The idea seemed ridiculous. He drowned things, he didn't take them home. He doubted his hammock would fit two beings. "If you wanted to keep them all, I would just have to buy us a bigger home, wouldn't I?" Rye answered. It wouldn't be just him; if Rhea wanted she could contribute some of her own treasure profits. They hunted together at times, after all. Rhea was not helpless, Rye just loved to spoil her.
"So curious, mo chroi," Rye added, pleased she was observant, as always. "Would you believe me if I told you I was thinking of butterflies and cool summer nights?" Rye's eyes reflected the dull light that escaped through the clouds, almost glowing with the light of the sea itself. He brought one hand up to his face and swept his bangs aside.
Rye gathered all the treasure up and leapt down to the shore, laying them out carefully on an oiled skin he had wrapped up in his bag, which he had flattened out in anticipation for this very activity. It kept the sand off the trinkets. Without giving her very much chance to respond, Rye leapt back up on the rocks, scooped Rhea up and jumped down, bending his knees to absorb the impact. In the rain, it hardly bothered him. He set her down, but not without a gentle kiss on her forehead. She might not have even noticed; his lips were cold, the barely brushed her skin. Rye was dizzy from all the contact with his better half, and he retreated to sit in the slick grass next to the sand, his feet dangling down the crest where grass became a downwards sloping dune side. "Anything you desire will be yours, you know," Rye said, tilting his head to the side. He dug the nails of his right hand into his palm until he bled, and brought it up to his mouth, licking the blood off. It wasn't nearly as good as the blood of others, but it would have to do for then. It wasn't something new; he often did that. It was one part of himself he had tried to hide at first, but he realized it would be nearly impossible to keep it from Rhea all the time. His own blood was better than shedding the blood of another in front of her, at least.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 6:50 pm
"The sky is crying," had been said by a child in the village not too long ago when it had been raining. Compared to then, the sky had to be suffering nothing short of agonizing heartbreak. The rain had picked up significantly, the sea churning and turning in on itself as it became even colder.
"Not unusual," she protested lightheartedly, tightening her hold for the brief moment they were together. They always felt a little too short, and she'd learned to treasure the feel of him in those short moments; the cool feel of his skin, the controlled strength, the smell of the sea and its darker secrets. Though she didn't thrive off of physical contact, part of her ached when he pulled back, wondering what went through her brother's mind to look like he did. It was as though he was pulling away mentally as well as physically, and perhaps in even more ways.
"More like I'm curious to just how much you stashed in this spot alone," she admitted playfully as they parted, scanning over the glinting treasure among the rocks. "I wasn't gone that long...was I?" True, with the sun hidden behind the clouds, it was a little harder to tell exactly how much time had passed, but they'd both enjoyed themselves and there'd been nothing important going on, so their time was their own, much like they preferred it. Her physical senses may have been heightened by the sea, but her sense of time wasn't. Sometimes, Rhea would swear it was far worse in counter.
"Mmmm, and how long would that last us until we'd need something even bigger? I don't know about you, but I certainly don't intend to stop any time soon." Rhea grinned at his statement about needing a new home, shaking her head with another smile; they hardly ever seemed to leave her face. But it was true, nevertheless; if they kept everything they'd ever salvaged, no place in the world would be large enough. She'd actually tried hammocks but had a horrible tendency to fall out of them at the oddest times and had since been trying to find a decent way to combine the idea with a regular, still mattress. Then again, there were times when she'd come out to the cove and just stay out on the rocks, watching the sea until she fell asleep.
"Butterflies, Rye?" she asked, unable to help the bubble of laughter. "Have you turned a new leaf and left it a surprise?" Her own eyes seemed unnaturally bright as she looked at her brother, shaking her head. He would, of course, keep his secrets. It was as natural as the rain and as familiar as the sea itself. Despite her curiosity driving the desire to know, Rhea wouldn't have it any other way. She was used to the dodged questions and knew that her brother would tell her if she truly needed to know.
The last part of her question rose part of an octave as he unexpectedly scooped her up and carried her over to the pile of amassed treasure, setting her down gently before retreating to a safe distance to watch and entertain whatever thoughts went through his head. She thought she'd felt his lips graze her forehead, but it was too chilly and the rain too heavy to be certain. The fact that he was licking his own blood from his palm no longer phased Rhea, certainly a far cry from the first time she'd seen him do it, and she'd come to understand that it was a way to stave off his darker nature. Of course, that was when she was around: she didn't necessarily know the extent of what happened when she was absent.
"Anything," she reapeated, letting her gaze fall over the pile. A few things caught her attention, including a monstrous medallion that she knew her brother had kept only for it's physical value and not what she'd think of it. The thing was covered in enough gems and semi-precious stones to pull whoever wore it into a vicious faceplant. There were a few others that caught her eye and were rather pleasing, and she absently let her finger run through the area, carefully bringing them closer to her without officially picking them just yet.
"And if I said I wanted what it is you're trying so hard to hide from me?" she asked with a raised brow as she turned to look back at him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 10:02 pm
Rye felt the cool winds blow against his face, lashing the rain against his skin, and he reveled in it even more as he felt forced to keep a physical distance between him and his twin. If he didn't, he was afraid he might forget who he was. He might start to think he really was a good moonfolk. It would be disastrous, if he couldn't acknowledge who he truly was. How many would he mislead and then hurt beyond repair? No, it was better for him to lack sufficient sustenance, but fully understand his nature. "Gone too long, mo chroi; always too long," Rye answered, quietly. He reached up and gripped his locket with one hand, squeezing it, as if that comforted him. As if it held something he needed as dearly as he needed this rain.
"Stash? I did not stash anything, silly. The lake has secrets, even from me, and I don't have your keen senses; I have to sift patiently," Rye was nearly inaudible, he was so amused. He tried to clear his throat and speak up so it would be easier for his sister to understand him. "Certainly true; why would we stop? This world is full of treasure for the taking" It wouldn't do them any good to amass so many houses of treasure that they had more treasure than they could even look at. What was the point of knowing one had that much wealth but doing nothing with it? No, Rye preferred things he could use. It was likely why he gave his sister whatever she wanted of the objects he found; he would rather they went to her, because she either used or admired the things she chose. He liked that about her, he liked that things didn't have to be practical in the typical sense. She had jewelry, baubles, bangles; he thought that his twin was beautiful, standing in the rain, somehow still glinting with a light he couldn't see.
And her laughter; Rye would kill for that sound, even if he would do so anyway. He would kill to protect it, as well. No amount of bloodshed would ever make up for it, if something stole the laughter from his dear twin. "What kind of leaves could I have? More like 'turned some kelp', but all sides of kelp seem so similar, don't they?" Rye mused, totally off topic.
He had stemmed the flow of the blood from his hand, letting the cool rain sweep the rest of it away, until it was barely a scar. He walked over to the water, waded in up to his waist and plucked a living plant from the water, winding it around his hand. It bound the wound. By tomorrow, it would be healed. The ocean, the water, lakes; all things aquatic, Rye was attuned to. It was only natural the twins would belong with that which they were made to be a part of. Destined, or fated; Rye did not know the difference, he simply knew what was, and embraced it. Even his darker nature. It had to exist, he knew, to balance out his sister's light. Perhaps there was a little light in him, as there may be a little dark in her, but he had not seen that in himself. Except when he was with Rhea. Rhea made him light. That was, perhaps, why he was so terrified of being in such close contact with her for too long. He was terrified that she would become a little more dark each time, that while she made him lighter, he would darken her. He didn't want that for her, not for an instant, even though he wanted to be close so badly. It seemed natural, to seek out the other half of himself.
"You might say that," Rye finally answered, still standing waist-deep in the water, "But how would you even guess at what I'm hiding? If I'm hiding something at all," Rye continued. "We often dare to guess what our hearts desire... and the result proves to be something entirely different." Rye paused, looked at Rhea with concern until he flattened his expression out to neutrality. Then, fearing himself too serious, his voice grew soft again as he lightened up. "For example, what if I were to say I indeed wish I dreamt of butterflies, but that's not what I really need?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 3:27 pm
It was almost impossible to hear Rye, despite her sharpened hearing. Rhea could make out his voice, the tone and some of the words, but the driving rain was hindering as much as it was helping, the hiss of raindrops slicing through the air before pummeling the surface threatening to drown him out unless she concentrated hard enough. Her smile softened, quirking at one corner of her mouth as though to admit she knew she was being silly.
"And nobody even realizes it!" she said with a sigh. All the treasure for the taking was theirs, unnoticed until after they'd pulled it up. Granted, she knew other spiritfolk weren't capable of traversing the sea's depths the way they were, but a little competition never hurt, either. At least, not in Rhea's eyes...so long as she knew she could come out on top, anyway. Still, the fact that nobody had any idea what bounty lay in wait under the surface was a little disappointing, too. It was like missing half the world and never even knowing it.
"You know kelp as well as I do," she pointed out, one hand going out to pick out a hair comb as she watched her brother, absently twisting the hair up and slipping the hairpiece in place. Wordlessly, officially claimed Rhea had a tendency to do that, picking out her brother's discoveries and keeping only what she could carry herself. Some days it had been quite a sight, especially if she wanted something badly enough.
"'Sides, similar doesn't always mean the same," she pointed out as she stretched, watching him as he dunked his hand in the water and brought it back up with a kelp bandage. Of course he was being cryptic again, though she expected little else. The younger Twilif's face seemed to glow at the term of endearment, resembling the luminescence of the dark water only a few yards away. Had she known the trail his thoughts were on, she would have been a little more somber: though not ignorant, Rhea had a way of viewing things in a light others rarely did, or simply did not allow themselves to. When it came to her brother, she found herself considering things from a viewpoint from different than her own, and on occasion, it worried her. At times Rye would keep his thoughts hidden in his shadows, to where even her light was unable to penetrate and shine through.
"Maybe you've had a little too much time to yourself, dear brother," she mused as she wound a strand of pearls around her wrist a couple times. Though it was a light jest, her expression said that she was actually considering his words quite carefully. Rhea would often take his words and examine them later, in private, searching for a possibly hidden meaning. His speculations had a way of ringing with irony, such as the times when they seemed to fit in with a situation Rhea would find herself in later in teh following days. So far as she knew, it wasn't intentional.
"Mmm..." It was hard to argue with the logic there, at least at first. "But how would we know unless we dared to find out? Some desires are hidden deeper than others." She tilted her head as Rye spoke of butterflies, disentangling herself from her brother's finds to join him at the edge of the surf, the water swirling around her ankles.
"I would say what we want and what we are aren't always the same, but that it never hurts to dream.," she responded simply. "I would also say you are my brother, and if you fancy yourself dreaming of butterflies, then I will have to bring them to you, so that the want and need no longer matter." She looked up at him, curious as to his thoughts. Though she'd meant every word, Rhea was normally lighthearted in these sort of situations.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 7:25 pm
"I just can't have any fun with you, today, can I?..." Rye mused, sighing. She didn't even indulge his joking about the kelp. He was pleased with the hair comb she chose, and he thought it complimented her. It was extremely endearing she would only pick what she could carry, and sometimes she came away from these exchanges looking like a relic from some ancient time, an adorned statue with more gold than anyone could have imagined just festooned from her every inch. It made him want to smile, on those days. They were rare, though. She was so good at taking only what she really wanted. He just had to try hard to find things she would feel that way about.
"You are right, things which are similar aren't necessarily the same, but what does it matter if we can't see the difference? If it doesn't really affect things?" Rye squeezed his hand, which undid any healing it was experiencing under the kelp. That re-tearing helped him deal with his frustration and the morose conversation he was having with Rhea. He didn't want this to continue; since when was she so sombre? Was he having a similar effect on her as she had on him? The thought terrified him. What if he was making his twin dark, while she made him light? He couldn't live with that, not ever. Rye had acknowledged, accepted and embraced the reality that he was not a good being. He loved shedding blood, feasted on stolen lives, desired chaos and destruction. And yet he wished none of that on his twin nor the environment they shared.
"Perhaps you're right," he said. Maybe he had been spending too much time in his own head. He wanted to run, though; he wanted to put himself far away from Rhea. Not for his own good, but to prevent her from becoming the darkness he was. He knew that was not the answer, though. To do so would only hurt them both. He would have to be more careful about hiding his darkness, and that should be enough. He hoped that it wasn't his own darkness reflecting in her.
"Mo chroi..." Rye sighed. He had interrupted himself, stopped himself from saying what he was about to. You know I can't give in to my desires, nor acknowledge them. "Some desires are buried intentionally, I will leave it at that." Rye shook his head, his eyes flat. It was hard, to want to be so close, and yet have so much he wasn't willing to share. It wasn't as though he didn't love his sister; the only secrets he kept were the violent ones. He cared so much for Rhea that it stung to be unable to tell her all about himself. He wasn't scared of losing her, but of asking her to stay even knowing what she would experience. She had approached him in the surf. He didn't think then, just made a choice: he took a step, then another one, and swept Rhea up into a firm hug. He used a little more of his strength than he normally would. Not to crush her, or injure her, but to hold her so tightly there was no way she could squirm away. He didn't say anything at first, just buried his face against the side of her head. He listened to the rain, and to her breathing.
"I would rather have you than a butterfly any day, mo chroi. But I worry for you, and I can't help it. Tell me my worries are unfounded? That you won't become what I am," he let it slip out, exhaling a breath he hadn't known that he'd been holding. His body was tense as he waited for her answer, squeezing his eyes shut.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 7:54 pm
Rhea exhaled in a little huff, strands of her hair moving only a little before replastering themselves to her head as she shook her head. Some days her brother was very much like the sea: so similar on the surface, but beneath, a tumult of hidden thoughts that made her want to just start picking his brain apart and shine a light in on all his dark places until he couldn't hide them anymore. She frowned for a moment at his question.
"Well, someone's got to know, right?" Leave it to Rhea to simplify matters a little too much sometimes. To her, though, even the tiniest life in the ocean had the chance to make that discovery. But for all her brother called her solemn, he seemed to have something rather permanently stuck on his mind and it was bothering him. The pummeling rain felt a little colder than it should have, and she couldn't help the small shiver that ran along her spine. Absently, she readjusted her sealskin, letting it lay across her shoulders and running a hand over the slick fur.
She started to laugh, started to respond to his words, but then the heavy sigh and downcast tone about desires caught her off guard, and Rhea actually stopped in her tracks, watching her brother with concern. Something was definitely, without question, off - if not wrong. It hurt that he wouldn't share, but she also knew that was how her brother worked, and as curious as she was, she didn't want to push. She wanted him to trust her enough on his own to come to her with what would bother him.
"Rye..." Anything else she would have said was cut short as he turned to her, covering the distance a couple strides and pulled her close and holding her tight, as though she were a lifeline in the stormy sea. As though, if he let go, he would drown in that secret, hidden darkness and never surface to see the light again. Her arms wrapped around him and she buried her face in his chest with a soft sigh, letting him hold her for a few moments longer before looking up at him.
"Now who's the one who can't have any fun?" she teased. "No more philosophy for you, dear brother. Not unless the pressure of the deep water addled your mind while you were diving." Rhea couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous idea. Rye was the one who could handle the deep waters, not her. Of course he'd be fine.
"You worry too much sometimes, Rye. I'll always be me. Who else would I ever be?" She pulled back a little to look at him, her playful smile returning as she tried to brush aside the somber mood and cheer her brother up. "Besides, what would you want with a butterfly? They're good for flying, but if you get them even a little wet, then they have nothing." She looked back up at the tarp full of treasure, then to her brother once again.
"Race you back home?" Her eyes glittered with the challenge, her toes already digging in to the soaked sand with anticipation. Between his stamina and her speed, it was a good challenge: it all depended on the way they went.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 9:09 pm
Rye wrinkled his nose. She had answered without really answering his question, but it would have to do. Lately, he'd been so difficult that he really couldn't expect any different from his twin. He sighed as she let him hold her. It really was getting late, though. He took what of the hug he could get, and crossed his arms over his chest when she pulled back. "Maybe I spent too long in darkness, down there," Rye suggested, in lieu of the water pressure Rhea had proposed. He sighed at himself.
"I know, I can't help it. Well, maybe you'll turn into me if you spend too much time with me!" Rye said. He was clearly joking, though he had worried about something similar just a moment ago. After all, they had spent how long together without changing, really? They didn't need to. Rhea and Rye, they were two halves. Where one twin failed, the other would succeed, and in this fashion, nothing was ever lost between the two. Rye would worry himself to death, at times, over Rhea and for Rhea. If not for her gentle reassurances, Rye's health would surely decline. It was the only thing he ever worried about. Nothing, not his health, the end of their world, could concern him in the slightest. No, he cared only for his twin. Would that change, someday? It was impossible for him to imagine, that he could love another. So he didn't think about that. He cared for Rhea. Watched out for her. Worried over her safety, her health... and yet, he wanted to give her the space and freedom to run as far and as fast as she desired. That was her nature, just as his left him wanting to delve into the deepest parts of the ocean, to explore the bottom of every lake. He longed to meld into the darkness, to turn his flesh into spirit and rejoin that which called to him.
His sister was his earthly link. Without her, he felt like he just might turn back into smoke and sea salt. "Delicious. Soggy butterflies," Rye added, breaking his solemnity for certain. It was his way of telling his sister she had been successful, and he wouldn't worry for the rest of the night, if he could help it. He hoped his peace would last longer than that, but he had his good days, and he had his bad days; he could seldom predict which he would have next. When she asked him to race, she startled a half-smile out of him, the corners of his mouth twitching. It fell away as soon as it had arrived, but it had been there. He hoped Rhea had seen it. It took a lot to make him smile, but of anyone, his twin was the one who made him smile easily.
"Alright. I'll do my best, this time," Rye said, "You'd better return the favour," Rye joked. He would never insult her with an easy win, and he expected the same courtesy from his sister. She could outrun him any day; she was so fast. He wouldn't give up, though. He could run forever in this downpour, but she'd always beat him to the destination if it was a matter of speed. Wordlessly, Rye wrapped all the remaining trinkets up in his oiled wrappings, those they had lain on, and he tied them with rope, securing the bundle into something he could wear. He strapped it across his back, the ropes crossing over his chest and shoulders. It was a little restrictive as far as arm movement went, but he could still race. "Ready, mo chroi? You call our start, and I'll follow you. Wherever you want to go," Rye offered. There was something sincere lurking under his simple offer. Inferred in it, as always, was the statement that he would always be there, no matter how fast and far she ran. He'd be right behind her. He'd get her back, even if there came a time when she no longer needed him there. He refused to imagine such a time, and instead readied himself, taking a preparatory stance, looking at his twin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 9:56 pm
"Then your eyes will have to readjust," Rhea teased right back as the broke apart. "Or I can always help you see again." She had no idea she was hitting buttons or what to what extent he was alluding, but she knew enough to recognize one of his moods when she saw it, no matter how long this one would last. She was also determined to keep him away from such thoughts. She knew her brother was the darker aspect of the sea, the secrets hidden by the cold, deep shadows, but she also saw in him real good, the potential for gentleness when his inner chaos would allow him peace.
"Pffft, Rye. That's like saying I'll grow scales!" She laughed and rolled her eyes. Her brother had gone from serious and brooding to being just goofy, if such a thing was possible. Still, his words assured her that she had indeed managed to bring things to a lighter note. In truth, she worried about her brother, but had found that voicing these worries did her little good. His secrets were still his secrets, and if he didn't feel the need to disclose his thoughts, he would give her that certain smile and either give her a cryptic answer or change the subject. But with so much time alone, she did worry for and wonder about him. Was it really enough for him? She had to hope so; he would assure her it was and she honestly didn't know what would happen if she suddenly found her brother divided.
In truth, she never doubted that her brother would always be there for her, and she trusted in that as much as she did his presence. They were two halves of a whole, and where one went, the other would surely follow. It had always been that way, and Rhea couldn't imagine it otherwise.
"Exactly," she said with an emphatic nod, catching sight of his exceptionally rare smile and brightening considerably as she was certain that it had been there, even if only for a second. She loved those smiles, lived for them, if only because it helped cement her feelings about him into place. She knew there had to be some good in him, buried deep, way deep, because he was gentle with her, and Rhea knew she could push buttons sometimes without even really trying. That, and just seeing him content enough to smile was enough to make her happy, as well.
"Always, but you're going to have to fight to keep up today, else you'll miss me in the rain," she teased as she helped him gather and wrap his treasures and tie them in place. She waited as Rye tied the rope in place, scanning the horizon to where their home lay beyond the cove, wrapped in a seaside view away from the cacophony of the rest of the world.
"Hmm..." She finger to her chin, tilting her jaw to one side as though considering her options. "Why not go down the shore until we reach the slope?" It was actually a relatively fair course, allowing for her speed as well as his stamina for the upward climb, especially if the gravelly path on the slope felt as though it should become an obstacle course, instead. Their course decided, Rhea settled into a running stance, grinning at her brother as they waited for her declaration, her toes curling in the soaked sand and heels digging in slightly.
"Ready....go! With the command, she took off running, a bubble of laughter caught in her throat and lodging there. This was almost as good as swimming, with the rain to cover her and permeate the air with moisture. Almost. The freedom was exhilarating as her muscles bunched and stretched. It felt for all the world as though the ground wasn't even there, as though her steady rhythm met only air.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 09, 2010 8:41 pm
Rhea was right; the rain was driving down hard, and his eyes simply weren't as good as
Rhea's. He would keep up with her, though, at least close enough to know where she was
going. "I'll keep an eye on you, mo chroi; I won't lose you, even in this
rough weather." Rye nodded to Rhea. He thought about her course, plotted it
out visually, and responded, "That sounds like a fine route." Rye stretched, loosening his muscles, preparing for the race. He rolled his head and shoulders, calculating the distance they would initially run.
Before he even realized it, they were on their way. He was slow at the start, slower than usual, because he was making sure the bandages were still secured firmly around the gift he had for his sister hidden against the small of his back. There was no way it was going anywhere, it really was secured underneath his bandages, with no chance of ever falling out. Reassured, he began to actually run as hard as he could. He was no match for Rhea, though. He could hardly keep an eye on her as she tore off down their planned route, and she kept going. Which way was she headed?... He'd seen it before, where Rhea just ran and kept on running, until they were almost irreparably lost. Rye kept his breathing steady and did his best trying to keep an eye on his sister. He gained a little distance the longer they progressed, as he could keep his same speed up indefinitely, even while climbing slopes or going up an incline; he didn't accelerate, but nothing deterred him. That was the only thing that kept him close enough to follow her, he suspected, as per usual.
He was out of earshot, too, which didn't worry him. He was used to it. For Rye, running wasn't the thrilling experience Rhea found it to be. He was a little clumsy on land, as far as his hooves were concerned, and running was just something he had to do occasionally. It wasn't something he took pleasure in. He followed her anyway, and would never complain about it. It really was indifference on his part to the activity itself, but fondness for his sister and her company made it pleasant enough.
It seemed like Rhea wasn't really plotting their route, but rather running for fun. Rye took very little note of it until he started to recognize things: a forked path, and Rhea took the right road; a sign post which had lost its carvings over time and never been replaced or recarved; a collection of small stone shrines for spirits which had passed on; two trees which had grown into one another, wrapped around and tangled. Rye was growing increasingly more agitated, his brows knit together. She would never take them that way, would she?... And yet they broke through the trees, and there it was: the road to their old home. Rye tried to yell in the rain, tried to call out to her to stop, but he felt as though the rain was pounding too hard and he was too far away; he simply could not make his voice reach her. He sped up, tried so hard to catch her, and still he was unable. The thought made him panic, and it made his adrenaline kick in. He was gaining on her, but nowhere near fast enough. Her speed probably wouldn't give out in time to stop her. Rye swiped a hand across his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way, and braced himself for their past, which would surely hit in full force once they reached the end of the path.
Their old home, the one they had been driven from. The reason they now lived in solitude.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 09, 2010 9:32 pm
Rhea knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she had passed their turning point to go home. And yet, it didn't matter. That bubble inside her chest wanted to break free, her lungs and muscles to burn from sheer effort until she could go no more, to test her limits. And in the gloriously pounding rain, with her brother not far away, it felt right to do so; so naturally, that's what she did, giving in to her own impulse. She was long gone from the world, anyway, her mind blissfully at peace as each stride carried her further away.
She could still sense Rye behind her somewhere, a comforting, familiar presence hidden by the gray curtain of rain, his cloven feet making soft, almost inaudible sounds as they came in contact with the sandy shore that was gradually giving way to rock and even grass. The sand beneath the stalks began to give way to moist earth, registering in the back of her mind that something was off. If she had gotten so far away from the shoreline, then she had missed her turn, and Rye would surely beat her. Yet it didn't matter to the Twilif, who simply shrugged it off for a more enjoyable sensation that was awarded to her now. If nothing else, she would say she took the scenic route: it certainly wouldn't be the first time.
In her reverie, Rhea missed the warning signs; the fork in the road, the weathered and forgotten sign. The lonely, untended shrines cried out a silent, mournful warning that went unheeded as she tore along the path, thinking of home and a comfortable evening alone, just the two of them. The shade of the intertwined trees passed over her, a momentary lapse from the constant rain that felt so good against her skin, refreshing as her body heated from the run, her heart picking up the pace in turn. Somewhere, lost in the gray expanse, she thought she heard Rye, but his words were lost in the rain as she traversed a path that was so familiar that it seemed ingrained into her very being.
Too soon the path ended, and Rhea was jolted from the pleasant euphoria that she'd been encased in. The Twilif stopped in her tracks so sharply it seemed as though she'd slammed into a stone wall, sea green eyes wide as she realized, too late, why it was that the way had seemed so natural. Why she hadn't questioned the normal markers along the road...and why she wanted to turn around and run away. To run back, all the way back to the ocean, back to its chilly, familiar embrace. Back to where she could hear its song, where it could drown out the horrible voices that rang in her mind, accompanied by faces and images Rhea would have sworn she'd buried away and cast aside long ago. Faces of people who hadn't needed her or her brother, whom they hadn't needed in turn.
But, to her horror, Rhea couldn't move. She just stood there, at the edge of a fallen fence, staring at sodden, scorched earth that was still trying to let little scraps of green grow. It was a futile effort, but they stood out sharply against the devastation. The remains of a roomy home could be seen, crumbling beneath the pummeling rain, little more than ash and bits of a charred skeleton. Part of the roof had caved in on itself at some point, taking out one of the windows along the way, though the glass, she knew, had already been broken. Even now, she could make out the last faded remains of some graffiti near the base, worn away by weather and time, untouched now that there was nobody to scare away.
Home. Or at least, it had been.
Suddenly, the race home didn't seem like such a good idea
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 8:03 pm
Rye's stomach knotted. Everything was too familiar. The way the roof had sagged into the frame of the house, the insults and crude symbols he could still see at the base of the house, the charred wood scattered where burnt remains hadn't quite disappeared: they froze him in place. He could hardly swallow.
It wasn't quite sorrow that held him in place. At first, it was wave after wave of anger. He remembered every word which had been spoken against him. He remembered the faces of the 'folk who had mistakenly thought that being twins was to be cursed. He remembered faces at their window and jeering, the stone which had been thrown through the glass. It wasn't cheap or easy, to afford glass for the windows. The 'folk had graffitied the house after a while, had started to tag it with their hatred. That had ended, briefly, when Rye caught one of them while Rhea was away. The graffiti had stopped, after Rye had smeared his blood on the door of their house to tell them that they were not to be trifled with.
He had not killed the 'lore, then. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps, had he killed him instead of allowing to return to his friends with only a gash, he would not have told the story. Perhaps, then, they would not have returned with torches.
Maybe then, they wouldn't have burnt their house to the ground. Rye had no warning. He thought they had, finally, understood he was not to be trifled with. If he'd had his way, after the fire, he would have killed them all. He would have drowned them. No, he wouldn't have drowned them. He would have built a pyre and watched them burn the way they watched his home burn. Over what? True, Rye was a monster, but his sister was not; it was her suffering that nearly brought him to his knees.
Rhea. That thought jumpstarted his body, finally, undid the snare he had been caught in. He walked to her, as quickly as he could manage without falling to his knees in anger and worry. He stepped in front of her, put himself between her and the house, and gripped her shoulders firmly, searching her eyes. "Mo chroi, I tried to warn you, we... should not be here. There is nothing left here for us..." Rye's eyes had turned slate grey, a sky with no sun and no light. He was too far from the water and his anger was searing him from the inside out. Even now, trying to look Rhea in the eye, he could see his bloodied hands. It wasn't a rare illusion; he often thought that his hands were still slick with blood. It wasn't associated in particular with their home and his violent actions towards the Moonfolk that had threatened them, but at that moment it felt like he was reliving the horror all over again. It felt like they were standing outside on the path, watching the house burn. He couldn't bring himself to pull Rhea closer, until he had found some truth in her eyes. Some explanation for what she was feeling, permission to leave: anything. She could ask for anything, and he would do it.
Apart from the anger he still felt when he saw the site of their burned once-home, Rye felt nothing about the past. He was not particularly concerned with what happened once, unless it needed retribution. That was one thing he was supremely good at. It was only for Rhea's safety and peace of mind he hadn't erased every folk that had ever hurt them back then. He had opted to run with her: they had a new home, a safe one. It was almost impossible to find, buried away. Carved from stone.
He never wanted Rhea to suffer, ever again. Had she healed, or did she have unfinished business with their once-home?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
