Eponine Graves
Fable
Even the most vicious of dogs require affection.
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Post by Eponine Graves on Sept 1, 2015 2:06:04 GMT
It was strange. The first time around being away from the older man had practically ripped her heart from the confines of arteries, veins, etc. Yet for now she felt the urge to stay away, to become scarce. Some days she'd be at home but more often than not she'd wander off into her own solitary confinement. Hadn't she caused him enough trouble? How long would it be before he got tired of her bullshit? Ivory fur and feathers stood out between the assembly of trees that shielded the secluded waterfall from the outside world and the outer boundaries of the wood. It was not far from here where she had stood up to her mother in order to say that she held Menelaus above all, even her own bloodline. But even her mother, hell not even Menelaus knew what secrets she herself held. Oddly enough Eponine was never one to hold secrets from the world this time around had been a first for the likes of herself. But within that lithe avian-feline frame of hers life was forming. Alas the foreign blood of a fabled creature hardly mixed well with the likes of non fabled blood. The pathetic spawn who possessed no name already had a death toll on its head. It was only a matter of time before it ceased to exist. Perhaps that was why the Griffin kept to herself. Constantly going to the top of the cliff at the waterfall, surveying the woods around her as though it'd give her a change of thought. Why did it bother her so? Because it would make her even more of a burden to Menelaus? Or was it the fact that she feared the man's anger towards her, that he'd think it was some betrayal of sorts. Ivory frame shuddered as the runtly Griffin laid her head on the cooling ground. What do I say? Do I apologize? Or do I just bide my time? Perhaps she was more afraid of the man assuming that she was spending her time in another man's bed, something she'd never even think of doing. The scars from her bad run-in with her father were on the path to healing although the mental wounds remained open, bleeding at the tender seams. Suddenly growing angry with herself the Griffin raised to her feet, spreading her feathered wings and jumping off the cliff, quickly catching the wind underneath her wings. The waterfall crashed into the lake below where the water merged in with a river that made its way through the forest, probably towards the mountains in the distance. With a beastial avian-like screech front talons reached beneath the water's surface and quickly swiped up the likes of a salmon. It was unlike the avian to dabble into the likes of fish and meat normally taking the vegetarian route. But ever since the incident at the cabin with her father she felt the need to shed her anger on someone else, anyone, anything but him. To kill her own blood? Unimaginable. The fish was dropped onto the shore where it's shiny scaly body collided with a small boulder killing it instanteously. Upon closer inspection, fish bones scattered the shore in unorganized piles as though this had not been the Griffin's first kill in the last couple of weeks. Powerful beak tore into the fish's body ripping it apart piece by piece. What do hoomins call it? Playing with your food? Blood splattered the Griffin's face and beak but she didn't care. Devouring what remained of the salmon she looked as though she was tempted to try for another but a noise in the woods caught her attention. Had she been followed this time around? She scrambled to her feet, the feathers ruffling around the back of her neck, her tail lashing side to side as she searched the woods. "Who's there?" She growled warily putting on a front as though she was this tough person, but deep down she was as weak as she had always been. But would she ever speak her fears to a soul? Of course not. The avian scraped her talons in the dirt when she decided it was nothing to trouble herself over and turned back to the remains of the fish. With a swipe of a powerful claw she swatted the bones to the side before swiping her claws at the water's surface, catching a fish just as it had jumped out of the water to gulp down a mosquito. She repeated the process like she had done before, hastily tearing away at the fish's flesh. It was unlike her to willingly bring pain upon the like of any living creature but she needed some kind of release, some kind of false comfort. And she refused to go to Menelaus, she didn't want to be his problem. She wanted to be his damn lover, she wanted that to be the only thing that crossed his mind, her existence. Not every problem that she brought to the table, not his burden. With that last thought instilled into her mind the Griffin took to pacing the clearing her tail lashing behind her. When a curious buck ventured out towards the lake to secure a drink the Griffin lunged at the unsuspecting cervid, using her talons to her advantage to gouge down its sides. It had not killed the poor beast but it had been enough to send it running back in the other direction into the woods, calling in its odd language in alarm to its herd of does in hiding. Growling and pacing on she went along the water's side hoping that perhaps if she waited long enough all of her feelings would dissipate. But they didn't. They never did. Oh but would she confide in someone now? No, she couldn't. She wouldn't.
tagged @menelaushenson words: 1002 words muse: stitches notes: not sure whether this is sad, or just plain freaking weird |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 2, 2015 20:47:53 GMT
MENELAUS You can't keep running out, kicking yourself off the bed, kicking yourself in the head, 'cause you're kicking me too. + SORRY THIS IS SO CRAPPY OMG THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I HAVE NO MUSE K | He sometimes had absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which he so madly indulged. It had not been in the pursuit of pleasure that he had periled life and reputation and reason. It had always been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness, and a dread of some strange impending doom. But, god, life was loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the rare glories, despite the small victories, despite the false grinning faces people so often wore. And when at last he found someone to whom he felt he could pour out his soul, he stopped in shock at the words he uttered - they were so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside him so long. Yes, there was joy, fulfilment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in it's appalling self-consciousness was horrible and overpowering. He was a strange monster, though he rarely chastised himself for his savagery. People, normal people, liked to invent monsters and monstrosities, for it made them appear less monstrous themselves - humans became blind-drunk, cheated, stole, beat their wives, sacrificed a child upon the alter of their own overweening ambition and pride, killed a trapped fox with an axe for no good reason, riddled the last existing unicorn with arrows. They like to think that the beasts that lingered on the streets were more monstrous than they were. They felt better then. They found it easier to live. But, hell, he couldn't give a fuck less what humans thought, what they did. There was no black or white. There were no intricate details as mankind often suspected. Someone who had been good their entire life could, in fact, do something evil. People were just as capable of committing murder, under the right circumstances, as any monster.
He was impatient for the kill, longing to scent that hot, acrid death that would be sure to issue from the carcass moments after the final breath. By virtue of his animalistic counterpart, it would've been easy to end the writhing bipedal's existence much sooner; there was obvious capability in those tense muscles, the powerful clawed forelimbs and two and a half inch ivories, yet, some insidious thought had him prolonging the end of the human's existence, subjecting the insignificant soul to, albeit, more suffering than he deserved personally. A void in his chest had once again inflamed with anger. Quiet, defeated anger that guaranteed him the right to harm; he decided that he did not have a grain of feeling left aside from said anger, because to feel anything else would've been equal to bleeding to death. Should've worshipped her sooner. A snort of agitation left the beast at the thought alone, barely acknowledging the shoving of the man's operational hand against his muzzle and neck, halting only to readjust his grip upon the exposed flesh of the arm. The majority of the visible body was mutilated in some form, indented with the scourge marks of the unprovoked attack, though the blood loss was not yet great enough for his victim to slip into a merciful unconsciousness.
However, his attention by the panicked cries of a cervidae, a buck no doubt. It darted frantically through the woods, swerving to avoid man and beast alike, and judging by the strong scent of blood that emitted from the creature, it wouldn't last long. He couldn't see the gouges in the buck from this distance as it fled, but he was certain they were there. That piqued his interest; an injury to that extent was likely inflicted by a predator, human weaponry was often cleaner, more calculated. The only thing that caused him to hesitate from investigating was the human within his grasp, which had now begun to howl, wracked with things that could only be placed between a pained sob and an angered yell. The bear snorted once more, this time in bemusement. Pathetic. With weighted paws, he shoved the man facedown against the dirt, hesitating only in his bemusement as the human frantically clawed at the ground, attempting to writhe beneath the bear's forelimbs. Futile, no doubt. A singular, warm exhalation on the back of the neck was the final thing the man felt, before the brutish shifter's ivories sunk abruptly into the vulnerable flesh.
As casually as ever, the shifter wandered in the general direction from which the buck had sprinted, audits straining forward at the sound of rushing water. The familiarity of the sound caused it to be easily recognisable - water cascading from the rock-face wasn't exactly indistinct. The brute picked up his pace slightly, though faint caution was present in the momentary hesitations at the faint sounds that rattled from the area. And eventually, the woodland opened out into rougher terrain, his singular operational iris studying the scene at hand. The scent of griffin was impossible to mistake, the merging of both that of feline and avian origin. It was even harder to dismiss that of Eponine, and immediately as his gaze fell upon the familiar pelage he was transfixed. He hadn't seen her in... How long had it truly been? Hours? Days? Weeks? It all felt the same without her - but that was besides the point. What the hell was she doing out here?
After several more moments observing her quite obviously frustrated pacing, the bear took a few steps into the open - tentative as they were, large strides had him a good few meters from the trees. His audits pinned to his skull, giving the tattered remains and fish bones that littered the ground a glance of acknowledgement, before producing a hushed rumble from his throat, muscles tense in preparation for if she decided to lunge - god knows what she was thinking. "Eppie?" His tone was warm, greeting, but his facials betrayed his attempt to hide his confusion.
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Eponine Graves
Fable
Even the most vicious of dogs require affection.
Posts: 96
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Post by Eponine Graves on Sept 4, 2015 2:29:06 GMT
She hadn't the slightest clue what brutally murdering defenseless fish was going to do for her self-composure, her dignity. Perhaps the older man had roughed off on her or maybe even the blood of her parentage had been set to a boil. Whatever the case she wished to vent without words, she wanted to break sticks and stones. Whatever the case happened to be, she was oblivious to the pained cries of a lone human in the distance. It had been the sound she had heard moments before but she cared not to investigate. The cruel and bitter circle of life was out of her hands and she'd avoid intefering at this point. Specks of blood shone on her beak, and stained the plumage upon her facials as well as the tough skin upon her talons. Dark claws tore into the topsoil as she caught scent of something very much bear. She knew his scent above all after all it was intoxicating to her, a powerful drug in its own right. When the bear appeared through the trees the white avian-feline hybrid stood her ground growling a warning for a moment. It had been too long since she had laid eyes on him, man or bear. The sight of him caused her frustration to lift for the slightest of moments, her heart fluttering frantically beneath her chest. She yearned for him, his embrace, his words, his lips, all of him, yet she kept her distance. It was as though she was feral out on her own in the woods but with a mind that had been disturbed greatly how could one know what to expect? Eponine looked as though she wanted to say something but she simply pulled her wings in closer to her lithe frame and wandered back towards the moving body of water. "Mene." She addressed quietly as she looked down at her reflection in the water's surface. What cruel god mashed together that of avian and feline? Was it some sort of sick joke? She knew nothing of what purpose her kind served, if any at all. Lashing her ivory lion's tail in frustration she slammed a single clawed foot into the water and brought two fish until the shore. Flapping and fluttering uselessly as they gasped for the precious oxygen they yearned for underneath the water's surface. With judging aquamarine orbs she watched the fish before putting one of them out of their misery by smashing her talons into one of the skulls of a silvery fish. As she gazed at the other fish she seemed to regain a part of her typical self and gently picked the fish up within her avian jaws and tossed the fish back into the water. What am I doing? What purpose does this serve? How will this remove these thoughts from my head? She shook her head in contemplation before allowing her body to morph and change back into the human form that she had grown so accustomed to over the past year. She didn't approach the bear still however, instead she sat at the water's edge studying the calm of the pond while listening to the quiet roar of the small waterfall. "What brings you here Menelaus?" The blond asked as she looked over her shoulder revealing the exhaustion that had sank into her face, into the depths of her gaze. "I apologize for..not contacting you very often. I..I don't have any sort of explanation, if you were wondering." She spoke with a certain sadness mixed with a tinge of frustration, further hinted by the way she furrowed her brows in deep thought. Eponine shifted her gaze to the bear's paws noticing the blood upon them yet she didn't even bat an eye at it. She knew it was the norm for Menelaus, and it wasn't as though it affected her, after all it was none of her business. "I come here at times to try and remove the thoughts from my head. Of how I was born to a terrible pair for parents. A mother who considers someone important to me as barbaric, a father who'd sooner kill his own offspring then honor them." Arms were crossed over her chest as she returned her gaze to the water's surface. She remembered the limited essence of life that stirred within her existence. When would it's time be up? Forbidden things were never meant to exist, and for the case of fabled creatures dancing with the likes of nonfables any reproduction would be halted without so much as a warning. Perhaps that was what added to her anger. Although it was not like she wanted to have any child of sorts, perhaps it was that she feared causing the man to become angry with her as he had done in the past. Know one could know what was on anyone's mind, particuarly Menelaus. With a deep sigh she spoke up once more, "Forgive my manners. How have you been? Well I hope." She asked with a certain worry that she held only for him. The Griffin gestured for the bear shifter to come closer, an invitation to rekindle what bonds they may have lost in their arupt seperation. She failed to conceal the occasional fidgeting (an annoying avian trait no doubt), a bad habit that usually meant something was causing the woman a bout of anxiety. It didn't help that she couldn't forget that a night a few weeks ago she had scented her father around her home. That alone was enough to make her want to stay out here, away from any chance of being abducted by the deranged old bird again. "I am a coward. I cannot even defend my own home from intruders. Instead I run to here as though that would provide a solution to my problem." She spoke softly, more so to herself than to the man. "I scented my father around my abode a few months ago. Instead of taking matters into my own hands, I took my frustration and fears out to here with my tail between my legs. But look at me rambling, forgive me. I did not intend to throw such troubles onto you. I do not wish to do that anymore, intentionally or no." She huffed quietly, a frown pulling at her lips as she watched a fish leap out of the water, presumably the one she had released earlier, and secure a mosquito from the air. After a moment of long hesitation she finally spoke again, "I am with child. But as I have the blood of the fables, and you of the non it shan't remain that way. It is the way the world..revolves I believe it is how they say." She stated as though it was something simple. As if it was just 'the way things were'. She knew it would do her no good to complain, to fret and say she wanted things different. It would make no difference to her either way, in the end the sun always set to give rise to another day.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2015 11:15:42 GMT
MENELAUS You can't keep running out, kicking yourself off the bed, kicking yourself in the head, 'cause you're kicking me too. + gdi mene -swats- | It certainly wasn't uncommon for him to question why, when his craving for solitude and hatred of man was so hefty, so consuming, he hadn't left. It seemed an irrational choice looking back on it, wording it in such a manner. He often wondered why places were so much more appealing when on was alone. He didn't want anyone with him. Truthfully, not even Eponine. Every time she was near, he was forced to watch her, to watch her eyes, her expression; wondering whether she was safe, wondering what she was thinking. When alone, he could relax. He thought, no, he knew that if he owned nothing, had nothing, was nothing, he would have nothing left to lose, wouldn't have to walk the line between sanity and the bottomless pit of chaos. But he had to go and find ways of fucking that up too, didn't he? For it was in the human nature for the heart to wither without answer from another, and for the mind to shrink away if it heard only it's own echoes of thought and found no other inspiration. He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the market, and got annoyed at even the slightest sappy moments in movies, scowled at the faintest of sob stories. He was hypocritical, of course; he wasn't exactly subtle about conveying his affection for Eponine, not nearly as concise with expressing that as the irrelevant details. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about her. Like so much else, she should just have known.
She was a porcelain angel in her own right - so delicate that a leaf could fall and bruise with a touch to her skin alone. That insidious need to get closer consumed his being, to protect her, to keep her safe, although he pushed the urge down swiftly, keeping the distance between them, cautious, confused. He could see the complexity behind her shaded eyes. The grief. The intelligence. The despondency. As her faint growl of warning reached pinned audits, the bear rattled his own throat in a returned snarl, lips curling back to reveal crimson tinted ivories, instinctively matching the aggression to conceal his uncertainty. However, he knew that she could hurt him just as easily as he could her - they knew each other, every wound, scar, and weakness. He could not afford to be confused. He could easily kill in a few seconds, if only to cover his momentarily hesitation.
He expected her to take that decision away from him; he expected her to lunge; he expected her to scream threat, blame and confusion alike; he expected her jaws to reach for him. But she did nothing. Nothing but pulling her wings in and returning to the crystalline body of water. His growl faded as soon as primal instinct wavered, huffing inaudibly, before his singular cerulean iris fixated upon the feminine, studying her behaviour intently. The slaughtering of the fish barely phased the bear, the only sign he'd acknowledged it at all a flick of an ear. His confusion resurfaced briefly as the remaining fish, of no apparent difference to the other, was returned to the body of water. Why was that one offered life and not the other? Why should one end and the other survive? Lest, perhaps he was reading into the irrelevant details too much; what mattered now was Eppie, and why the fuck she thought it was a good idea to come out here, alone, just to crush the skulls of a few fish. Maybe he had more of an influence over her than he thought.
She sought to take on her human form, and was just as beautiful as she'd always been - not in looks, not in what she said, but in who she was. She was so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the subtle hums she made, why no one else's heart ran rampant at her sight alone, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her blonde locks, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character. There was nothing more beautiful, than Eponine being unapologetically herself; comfortable in her perfect imperfection, in tune with the depths of her soul. Though, that sight had become rare as of late. The bear's audits perked forward in faint surprise as she spoke - damn, he'd missed hearing that voice - studying the face that twisted to look at him, the dark half-moons beneath each beryl orb. "Someone decided to send fucking Rudolph running through the woods. Not exactly subtle of you, darlin'." The final sentence was accented by a playful sarcasm, a smirk worn upon the features of the brute. Trust him to only joke when it was completely needless. Though, as she spoke again, the bear's skull tipped to one side. Don't have an explanation? Bullshit. He failed to pick up on the deep complexity of emotions instilled within her voice, his doubt outweighing his observance. Still, he decided not the voice it aloud; the situation itself was drab enough already, his only verbal response a hushed huff.
He listened tentatively to her words, each syllable seemingly to carry forth new demons that plagued the feminine. "Don't let their issues get to you - they're not your problem anymore." He restrained himself from stating that he'd protect her, that he could keep her safe, for he wasn't sure whether he was capable of it anymore. He'd let her slip through his fingers too many times, let criminal tongues and gnashing teeth get to her too often, to make that promise again. To lie again. He'd do anything in his power to defend her, but he simply couldn't protect her. A truth of reality he'd have to learn to accept one day.
Trust Eponine to worry about him during a mental breakdown. He snorted lightly in amusement as the thought ran through his mind, tossing his head for a moment, wandering towards her as prompted. "Eppie, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about me?" An affectionate grumble, somewhat similar to a purr, began in his throat, as the bear gently nudged her neck with his muzzle. Morphing quickly, the plan planted a light kiss on her temple, before stepping back, a faint smirk plastered upon his facials. And then she was off again, speaking of self-proclaimed cowardice. With a shake of his head, though the mention of the woman's father caused his muscles to tense and his gaze to sharpen. "What the fuck does he want now?" His words were growled almost inaudibly to himself, and the man indulged in that thought. So much so, in fact, that he jumped slightly when the fish leapt from the water. Shame Eppie hadn't slaughtered that one too.
After the elongated hesitance of the feminine, a hushed string of syllables left her - and he wasn't sure he'd ever forget what she said.
With... Child? He thought, confusion evident upon his features for a second, as in... Oh fuck. Shock and disbelief started deep within his gut, writhing and twisting like an unborn child, travelling like a serpent up through his chest, setting his bones to shake. He ground his jaw shut in effort to keep it escaping as it crept up his throat, although a small hiss of "what the fuck?" left him. His liver burned excruciatingly slow; his intestines were crawling sluggishly - everything within him was set alight, revelation flooding his veins. "I-... You-... How-..." They'd be down that road, what, two, three times? Probably more. But that wasn't the point - how the fuck was she pregnant? How? He couldn't deal with one, nevermind two kids. Clem had given him more parental experience that he ever wanted. Fuck that.
Burn the cancer out. Burn it out before it spreads.
Acting once more on instinct, his frame morphed back into his animalistic counterpart, gaze cold and predatory as it set upon her. Burn it out now. Issues were best solved in blood from what he knew, but the second he looked upon her he knew he couldn't do it. Fuck, this woman had him around her finger, intentionally or not. Shit, shit, shit. What was he supposed to do? The aggression quickly faded from his eye, and he stared down upon the griffin shifter, his expression guarded, wordless. His gaze seemed to say tell me what to do. Tell me what to say. Tell me who I'm supposed to be or what you want from me or-... Just-...
Do something.
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Eponine Graves
Fable
Even the most vicious of dogs require affection.
Posts: 96
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Post by Eponine Graves on Oct 2, 2015 3:23:49 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="id","oocinfo"] [attr="id","oocinfoo"] [attr="id","ooctext"] [attr="class","tags"]@ @menelaushenson yeah so i have no idea what this is, i'm sorry for the shortness >_< trying to figure out what happened to my precious, innocent eppie tho [attr="id","postt"]
[attr="class","posttt"]
Funny how she always talked about how beautiful the art of the circle of life happened to be. A marvelous masterpiece crafted by the likes of whomever the masked Creator was. The one who hid behind mirrors, skies and the vast expanse of the universe itself. But why was it that when the art became so beautiful, it practically turned deadly? When one's life goes so well that fate has it out for you, to ruin this false moment of peace that you have worked upon your soul. And then your happiness becomes so fragile, so weak and just like that it crumbles away to nothing at all, as though it had never been there in the first place.
[break][break]
In normal circumstances she would have lingered on every single word, her heart fluttering at just the sound of his voice. But now, it only filled with her a great deal of saddness. Why did life have to be so ruthless? "My apologies." She murmured quietly as she looked out towards the lake, almost waiting for the occasional ripple of water from the silvery body of a stray fish. "So long as I get in the way of other's lives, their problems become mine, does it not?" She asked fighting back the foreign urge to cry. She would not cry, she was stronger than that. Right? Had she been trying to prove a point that she wasn't some sort of coward by heartlessly killing fish without a motive?
[break][break]
How foolish of the man to continue to insist upon her not worrying for him. How could she not? "Menelaus, I will always worry for you. Whether you like it or not, I'm yours and sometimes you are mine, no?" She forced a small laugh as she felt the bear's muzzle collide with her neck, soon to be replaced by a light kiss upon her temple. Both extremely friendly gestures from someone who did just unorthondox things such as Menelaus. "Who knows? Or cares for that matter. I will not let him catch me off guard as he did before." Her slender frame tensed at the thought of her father. She had said multiple times that she'd end the crazed man's life with her own hands, but she knew deep down that she could never do that. To look into the eyes of someone who shared the same blood as she, and watch the life fade from them all the same. Perhaps one day she could learn that dark art, but that day was not today.
[break][break]
It wasn't like she didn't want to fight her father because of the spawn that so desperately tried to grow within her existence. Oh, no it was anything but that. The slowly forming thing would soon evaporate and be nevermore, a moment that Eponine both wished for and relented. However, her moment of silence was interrupted as she could quite literally feel the tension coming off the man in waves. As soon as the man shifted back into his animalistic counterpart, the woman quickly rose to her feet. "What? Do you want to murder me for something that shan't last for longer than a month or two, if even that? This poisonous fire within me will burn out and not even the ashes will remain." There was no fear or anger in her voice, but she knew better than to flat out stand up to someone like Menelaus, she knew what he was capable of.
[break][break]
Hands trembled for the slightest of moments, her body so desperately shouting for her to shift into her true form and protect herself from this immediate danger. "Consider the abomination already dead, Menelaus. Like I've said, mixing the blood of my kin with the likes of others burns out quickly. But if you still wish to end me, Menelaus, I won't stop you. I'd never even consider bringing harm to you, so do what you will to me." She stated, her voice not once hesistating. It was then that she sank to her knees and looked into the cold, calculating eyes. "I am no human, Menelaus." Cry, you know you want to cry. You're terrified. Her mind and heart screamed at her. Probably not in fear of her life, but in fear of losing this man's trust, of displeasing him for a second time. What more was she supposed to do?
[break][break]
What was she supposed to do....?
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Without another moment of hesitation she found herself shifting and changing into her avian-feline counterpart, a look of utter determination on her facial features. She was such a dainty thing, particularly for a Griffin, she almost put her kin to shame with her small stature. Balancing her weight on her other three legs, she raced a foretalon and managed to reach it just around the area that was her stomach and raked her claws enough to draw crimson liquid. Not a single sound came from her muzzle although she did shudder, if only slightly. "It is better than a wish..for death." She stated as she slowly, but surely regained her human form. It was odd behavior for the Griffin, perhaps it was the influence of the man upon her, or maybe the previous kidnapping of her father, or the recent solitary life she had taken on as of late? Regardless, the act she had committed spurred no surprise from her, it almost seemed like she accepted things the way they were. Without a word more she approached the lake's shore and regained her place seated by the water's side. "There is no harm in speeding up the process of extinguishing the problem, is there Mene?" She pondered for a moment as she gave only a moment's glance to the crimson that stained her blouse. "Mene..why must there be so many questions that need to be answered every day? While is everything shrouded in such mystery? I.." Trailing off she sighed, abandoning the thought. "I only have you now, Menelaus, and I'm perfectly content with that fact. Is it wrong for me to think that?" She asked as she studied the crimson staining one hand before dipping it in the lake's clear waters as though she was cleansing herself from the evidence of a crime. And perhaps it had been a crime, but at this point it no longer phased the once innocent-minded woman. Life's shadows always found a way to corrupt even the most holiest of hearts.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2015 16:48:15 GMT
MENELAUS You can't keep running out, kicking yourself off the bed, kicking yourself in the head, 'cause you're kicking me too. + I didn't mean to let him rant. it just happened >.< | The man who solemnly refused to judge, who neither agreed nor disagreed, who declared that there were no absolutes and believed that he escaped responsibility, might as well have been the man responsible for all blood spilled in the world. Reality was an absolute, existence was an absolute, and a speck of dust was an absolute, as was human life. Whether one lived or died was an absolute, whether one had a piece of bread or not was an absolute, whether one ate that bread or watched it vanish down into a looter’s stomach was an absolute. There were two sides to most issues; one was right and one was wrong, yet the middle would always be evil. The man who was wrong still retrained some respect for the truth, if only be accepting the responsibilities of choice. Yet, the man in the middle was the knave who blanked out the truth in order to pretend that no choice or values existed, who was willing to sit out the course of any battle, willing to cash in on the blood of the innocent or to crawl upon his belly to the guilty, who dispensed justice by condemning both the robber and the robbed to jail, who solved conflicts by ordering the thinker and the fool to meet one another half way. In any compromise between good and evil, it was only evil that could profit. In that transfusion of blood which drained the good to feed the evil, the compromise was the transmitting rubber tube. With such a train of thought in mind, what was he to do? Through whatever means available, he had to make up his mind about what to think, what to say, what to do. Would he ever honestly choose the right option? What response should he give? He’d forgotten how to tell – did he ever even know? Had he ever made the right choice? Knowing him, likely not.
The griffin shifter's proclaimation of always worrying for him drove a light, bemused snort from the bear, though his mind couldn't resist lingering on the final note of her speech. Sometimes. For as long as she allowed, he'd be hers, despite the package of negativity he seemingly constantly wrought - of course, he'd not say it aloud in such a blunt manner, resisting the idea alone of being so easily manipulated. But it was true, in every way. He was hers. "Quite capable of looking out for myself, darlin'." The laugh she provided was clearly forced upon his gestures; he didn't verbally question it, of course, since the underlying problem was apparent enough for even one as thick-skulled as sometimes was, though it caused some of his humour surrounding the situation to melt away. In fact, any humour was obliterated upon his animalistic counterpart being reclaimed, the shift instinctive and uncontrolled. The single eye of the brute lingered upon the feminine as she swiftly rose, the snarl brooding within his throat tapering and rising throughout her words in intervals. Again, his morals were put into question between a flash of the teeth and a shake of the head - or at least, the few that he still possessed. No, he didn't want to kill her, did he? He couldn't - it was Eponine, after all. Sweet, innocent Eppie, at least until she'd met him.
Her words barely registered in the mind of the animal-turned brute, glacial eye staring back at the feminine, meeting her gaze with surprising ease. The woman folded downwards, planting her knees to the floor before him, which at least gave an ounce of satisfaction to the demon on his shoulder. There was no eulogy from him, even as the faintest trace of a sickening smirk passed over his facials. Truth be told now, ain't it? The bear took a slow pace forward, inches from her face, examining her expression carefully. This woman has been in control of you - now it's your turn. You're not going to just lay down and take this again. Though as the feminine transformed herself, the beast flicked an ear in faint confusion, muscles tensed in preparation for some form of provoked attack, but one never came. The bear watched in silence as she swept a claw across her stomach. What... Is she doing? She seated herself casually as ever beside the shore then, as if everything was fine and dandy and he hadn't lost it and the world was just fucking perfect. The bear offered a gruff snort in retraliation to the thought, frantically searching his thoughts for any ounce of surety, stability. Pinned audits hesitantly flicked forth, and the aggressive display was gone just as quickly as it had arrived, a ragged huff heaving his sides briefly, head bowing and succumbing to the overall quiet of things. Shit.
His gaze scanned the ground beneath bloodied paws in silence, staring at the faint indents from her knees in the dirt, holding him back like the sea swept inland. No matter what he said or did, it never helped him deflect the angry death of every hopeful thought that sprouted between them. We'd both be better off dead than alive. He'd tried, god he'd tried and nothing ever fucking worked. The beast shook his head with a snarl, this time directed more towards himself, and cast a brief glance back towards the woods from which he'd initially emerged. Perhaps it'd be best if he just... Left her alone, for once. But, it had never been in his nature to let things be, no matter the circumstance.
A slow huff was released, the bear's head lowering once again, taking a long moment of silence before finally speaking. "What... Do you want?" His forelimb muscles flexed faintly, sinking his claws into the dirt. "What do you want me to be?" Although refusing to meet her eyes, should they turn back to grace him, his vocals spoke of raw honesty, rare from one like him. "I've tried everything, Eppie. Tried to change for you..." He hesitated, thinking things over, desperately trying to get a grip on his thoughts and piece everything together. "I mean-... I... You know I'd run to the ends of the earth if you asked me to. Hell, I was about to when you went missing. But that didn't work, you ended up getting hurt all the same." That's what it always seemed to be, he screwed something or another up and she was the one who took the fall for it. "I tried being the fucking sappiest piece of shit- you remember that, right?" There was a forced amusement in those words, but something deeper too, something different altogether, and he couldn't quite place what it was. "And done give me any of that 'be yourself' bullshit, 'cause I tried that too. You ended up on my doorstep, and don't deny it, you fucking hated me for it, even if just for a little while."
A long, hesitant pause plagued the bear, before his gaze finally switched upwards, staring intently towards the woman. "... I'm the reason that all this shit keeps piling up on you, aren't I? I poisoned everything for you..." That's what he did to people, that's what he'd always done - why did it bother him so much now? "I wanted whatever that... That wholeness was that you just summoned out of nothing; you were complete in some way that I never was. I-... Is there something wrong with me? Because I know I do awful things, I'm doing it again right now, but I can't just... Stop myself from doing it. There has to be something wrong with me- can I apologize for that? What if I tell you I was wrong, will that fix it?" His words gained a hint of desperation then, rushed, frantic. "I-I don't know, I don't think it well but there's nothing else I can fucking do. Just tell me what you want." His singular eye searched hers, ardent for some sort of response., but after a few moments, his gaze dropped once more to the ground. "This isn't about me, I-... Shouldn't have-..." This was pathetic, this wasn't him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This situation, it wasn't about him, he didn't need to spew all that pathetic personal shit did he? A weary huff left the bear shifter, looking back at the words. "We should go- can't stay out here. Can't be in the open for this long."
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