Beqanna
and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Printable Version

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and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 08-05-2015


When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.
Here are your upturned hands. Give them to him and watch how he prays like he is learning his first words.
We walked to the edge but we never leapt, what sings to you when you disconnect? Written on the wall, the letters plain and tall, this is my own fault. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

I still cower at eternal wrath, though. Don't want my fear to become my shadow. I want to invade my thoughts, I want to die in Kyoto. All the tides are married to the moon. All I want is for my heart to be as true.

Written on the wall, the letters plain and tall, this is my own fault. We don't feel anything. Not gone, but fading fast so let me put to rest the only question that you'll ask. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

Why doesn't anyone in Noro sleep? Are they all just scared of their dreams? When they lay down their heads at night, what are they haunted by? Why won't anyone just close their eyes? Could it hurt them to rest for a while? Do they need their friend to be a lover, or their lover to be a friend?

How are we ever gonna know peace? How will I ever see your light through the trees? I wanna burn down everything we began. I wanna kill and eat my young.I'm on my way to hell.

God knows that I've tried.

Z E D
Start by pulling him out of another fire, and putting him back together with the pieces you find on the floor.
There is so much to forgive, but you do not know how to forget. When is a monster not a monster?


Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="width:475px; border:5px solid #222; background-color:#999999; padding:10px 10px 0px 10px; font-family:armata; color:#000; font-size:11px; text-align:justify;"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/PQ8VEEs.gif" style="width:auto; height:99px; margin-right:5px; border:1px solid #000;"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/pOdFUrd.gif" style="width:auto; height:99px; margin-right:5px; border:1px solid #000;"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/IRznJvX.gif" style="width:auto; height:99px; border:1px solid #000;"><BR><font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size:10px; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:11px;">When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.<BR>Here are your upturned hands.  Give them to him and watch how he prays like he is learning his first words.</font><div style="width:465px; border-top:5px solid #EEE; border-bottom:5px solid #EEE; padding:5px;">We walked to the edge but we never leapt, what sings to you when you disconnect? Written on the wall, the letters plain and tall, this is my own fault. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

I still cower at eternal wrath, though. Don't want my fear to become my shadow. I want to invade my thoughts, I want to die in Kyoto. All the tides are married to the moon. All I want is for my heart to be as true.

Written on the wall, the letters plain and tall, this is my own fault. We don't feel anything. Not gone, but fading fast so let me put to rest the only question that you'll ask. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

Why doesn't anyone in Noro sleep? Are they all just scared of their dreams? When they lay down their heads at night, what are they haunted by? Why won't anyone just close their eyes? Could it hurt them to rest for a while? Do they need their friend to be a lover, or their lover to be a friend?

How are we ever gonna know peace? How will I ever see your light through the trees? I wanna burn down everything we begun. I wanna kill and eat my young.

I'm on my way to hell.
God knows that I've tried.</div>

<div style="text-align:right; line-height:20px; color:#b82832; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:5px; font-size:20px; margin-top:-42px;"><font style="text-shadow:1px 1px 1px #000; font-style:italic;">Z E D </font>

<font style="color:#000; font-style:none; letter-spacing:1px; font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size:10px; line-height:11px;">
Start by pulling him out of another fire, and putting him back together with the pieces you find on the floor.
There is so much to forgive, but you do not know how to forget. When is a monster not a monster?</font></div></div></center>


I AM A BED OF COALS AND YOUR MOUTH
SETS FIRE TO PARTS OF ME I FORGOT I COULD FEEL.

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

NAME
SOMETHING ABOUT LINEAGE HERE
MAYBE SOME TRAITS OR TITLE WILL GO HERE

Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="text-align:center;width:400px; background-image:url('http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b384/SwingSwingPuppetMaster/dark_stripes.png'); border-top:5px solid #000; border:1px solid #000; BORDER-RADIUS:250px 250px 0px 0px; padding:0px 15px 15px 15px;">

<div style="position:relative; width:400px; border-radius:265px 265px 0px 0px;"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/ovQujG0.jpg" style="position:relative; border-radius:250px 250px 0px 0px; border:1px solid #000;z-index:2;"></div>
<div style="position:relative;z-index:4;width:382px; font-family:armata; font-size: 12px; color:#EEE; text-align:justify; line-height:normal; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(83,83,83,0) 30%, rgba(83,83,83,1) 40%); padding:10px 10px 10px 10px; margin-top:-550px;"><font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size: 12px; color:#000; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:10px;"><center>I AM A BED OF COALS AND YOUR MOUTH
SETS FIRE TO PARTS OF ME I FORGOT I COULD FEEL.</center></font>
<div style="padding-top:400px;>He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
<font color=#E36834>He'd felt at home.</font>

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, <I>will not</i> allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.</div>

<div style="font-family:georgia; font-size: 28px; color:#E36834; text-align:center; line-height:20px;">N<font style="font-size:24px;">AME</font>
<font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size: 12px; color:#000; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:10px;">SOMETHING ABOUT LINEAGE HERE
MAYBE SOME TRAITS OR TITLE WILL GO HERE</font></div></div></div></center>



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 08-05-2015

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tussled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in midair before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

NAME
IF YOU WERE HUNTING SEASON, THEN I WAS THE BROKEN WINGS –
THE PLACE WHERE I LEARNED THAT PERFECT AIM IS A MERCY.


Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="text-align:center;width:500px; background-image:url('http://static.tumblr.com/2be00658ffc07b8b19171c7790cd0b24/8tzmen5/ZCnnjg5zw/tumblr_static_34lls7psvlycoc4oosswks0w0.jpg'); border-top:5px solid #000; border:1px solid #000; BORDER-RADIUS:250px 250px 0px 0px; padding:0px 15px 15px 15px;">

<div style="position:relative; width:500px; border-radius:265px 265px 0px 0px;"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/tYMaPLA.gif" style="border-radius:250px 250px 0px 0px; border:1px solid #000;"></div>
<div style="position:relative; width:482px; font-family:armata; font-size: 12px; color:#999; text-align:justify; line-height:normal; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 10%, rgba(0,0,0,1) 10%); padding:100px 10px 10px 10px; margin-top:-100px;">He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
<font color=#ad512a>He'd felt at home.</font>

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, <I>will not</i> allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

<div style="font-family:georgia; font-size: 28px; color:#ad512a; text-align:center; line-height:20px;">N<font style="font-size:24px;">AME</font>
<font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size: 12px; color:#EEE; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:10px;">IF YOU WERE HUNTING SEASON, THEN I WAS THE BROKEN WINGS -
THE PLACE WHERE I LEARNED THAT PERFECT AIM IS A MERCY.</font></div></div></div></center>



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 08-05-2015

I wanted to leave something besides a blood trail,
besides prayers growing stale on my tongue.


Tell me a story about wolves; I know how they go, all of them. Wolf dies, wolf is cut open, wolf is bone and wolf is blood. And wolf is villain, always villain, and wolf is starving.

I am starving.

No. no. Wolf is starving. Tell me this: the wolf always loses. There is never a story where the wolf wins. Tell me this. Tell me over and over again, so I stop eyeing your throat, so I can twine my fingers together instead of reaching for yours, I am hungry.

Help me, I am hungry.
CHAIN ME, I AM HUNGRY.

I know how the story goes:
wolf is chained, wolf wears lamb-skin, wolf is threat and wolf is dead - if the wolf is no threat, wolf lives on. Starving.

Tell me this. Say: Darling girl, put your lambskin on, rear up on your hind legs. Teach yourself to have a human tongue. Forget the woods, forget the taste of blood on your tongue, oh! Your bones are the spires of Stockholm and it's a lovely city to die in. Close your windows, girl, and forget the way the moon sounds. Like a metaphor, like the death of metaphors. Be Human. It's easier. Once upon a time there was a girl, and a wolf, and only the girl lived. Whatever other story there might be is lost.
Lost.

Lost.


Lost.

I could give you my body, my flesh,
offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet.
C




E




L




L




A




R


Code:
<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><style>#post::-webkit-scrollbar{ width:1px; }</style><div style="Position: relative;width:550px; height:420px; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(right, rgba(218,218,223,0) 40%, rgba(218,218,223,1) 50%), url('http://i.imgur.com/rCH8VZm.gif') right no-repeat;border:solid 1px #000; padding:5px;text-align:justify;"><div id="post" style="background:rgba(255,255,255,0.3); width:250px; height:400px; padding:10px; overflow:auto; font:12px Armata, sans-serif; color:#000, sans-serif; text-align:justify; line-height:normal; float:left;border-left:1px dotted #000;border-right:1px dotted #000;"><font style="font:14px yanone kaffeesatz, sans-serif; color:#000;">I wanted to leave something besides a blood trail,
besides prayers growing stale on my tongue.</font>

Tell me a story about wolves; I know how they go, all of them. Wolf dies, wolf is cut open, wolf is bone and wolf is blood. And wolf is villain, always villain, and wolf is starving.

I am starving.

No. no. Wolf is starving. Tell me this: the wolf always loses. There is never a story where the wolf wins. Tell me this. Tell me over and over again, so I stop eyeing your throat, so I can twine my fingers together instead of reaching for yours, I am hungry.

Help me, I am hungry.
CHAIN ME, I AM HUNGRY.

I know how the story goes:
wolf is chained, wolf wears lamb-skin, wolf is threat and wolf is dead - if the wolf is no threat, wolf lives on. Starving.

Tell me this. Say: Darling girl, put your lambskin on, rear up on your hind legs. Teach yourself to have a human tongue. Forget the woods, forget the taste of blood on your tongue, oh! Your bones are the spires of Stockholm and it's a lovely city to die in. Close your windows, girl, and forget the way the moon sounds. Like a metaphor, like the death of metaphors. Be Human. It's easier. Once upon a time there was a girl, and a wolf, and only the girl lived. Whatever other story there might be is lost.
Lost.

Lost.


Lost.

<div align=right style="font:14px yanone kaffeesatz, sans-serif; color:#000;">I could give you my body, my flesh,
offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet.</div>
</div><font style="font:14px yanone kaffeesatz, sans-serif; color:#000;">C<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>E<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>L<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>L<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>A<BR><BR><BR><BR><BR>R</font></div></center></center>


He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.


He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

JENOVA
IF YOU WERE HUNTING SEASON, THEN I WAS THE BROKEN WINGS -
THE PLACE WHERE I LEARNED THAT PERFECT AIM IS A MERCY.


Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="position:relative; width:482px; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(156,191,193,0) 20%, rgba(156,191,193,1) 30%), url('http://i.imgur.com/Xt5yFqm.jpg') top no-repeat; padding:350px 10px 10px 10px;"><div style="padding:10px;border-left:1px dotted #eee; border-right:1px dotted #EEE; font-family:armata; font-size: 12px; color:#fffce5; text-align:justify; line-height:normal;">He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.


He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
<font color=#cee6d3>He'd felt at home.</font>

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, <I>will not</i> allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.</div>

<div style="font-family:georgia; font-size: 28px; color:#cee6d3; text-align:center; line-height:20px;">J<font style="font-size:24px;">ENOVA</font>
<font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size: 12px; color:#EEE; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:10px;">IF YOU WERE HUNTING SEASON, THEN I WAS THE BROKEN WINGS -
THE PLACE WHERE I LEARNED THAT PERFECT AIM IS A MERCY.</font></div></div></center>



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 08-08-2015

IT ALL ADDS UP TO THIS: THE HOLLOW CHEST, THE BRUISED NECK, THE SHAKING HANDS.
YOUR BODY, THE TRIUMVIRATE OF UNHOLY THINGS.


He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tousled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in midair before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

THERE WAS NOTHING MORE DIVINE THAN HAVING SINNED WITH YOU.
vulgaris.

Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><style>#post::-webkit-scrollbar{ width:3px; } #post::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb{ border-radius:2px; background-color:#000;}</style><div style="text-align:center;width:540px; height:1000px; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(45,37,61,0) 20%, rgba(45,37,61,1) 60%), url('http://i.imgur.com/YmB0VcU.jpg') bottom no-repeat; border:solid 1px #000; BORDER-RADIUS:20px 0px 20px 0px; padding:25px 25px 0px 25px;"><div id="post" style="position:relative; width:520px; height:380px; overflow:auto; font:12px armata, sans-serif; color:#DFD4B8; text-align:justify; line-height:normal; background:rgba(36,30,48,0.75); padding:10px; border:1px solid #000; border-radius:20px 0px 20px 0px;"><font style="font:13px yanone kaffeesatz, sans-serif; color: #A59D76;">IT ALL ADDS UP TO THIS: THE HOLLOW CHEST, THE BRUISED NECK, THE SHAKING HANDS.
YOUR BODY, THE TRIUMVIRATE OF UNHOLY THINGS.</font>

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
<font color=#A59D76>He'd felt at home.</font>

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, <I>will not</i> allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tousled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in midair before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

<div style="text-align:right; font:13px yanone kaffeesatz, sans-serif; color:#A59D76;">THERE WAS NOTHING MORE DIVINE THAN HAVING SINNED WITH YOU.</div></div>
<div style="text-align:right; font:20px georgia, serif; color:#2D253D; margin-top:580px;"><I>vulgaris.</i></div></div></center>



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jenova - 08-19-2015

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.


He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

VIRGO
she comes at your body like a feast.
she picks you clean, then wants to know why you are so empty.
she leaves, she leaves.


Code:
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Yanone+Kaffeesatz|Armata' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><div style="position:relative; width:480px; background:-webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(0,0,0,0) 35%, rgba(0,0,0,1) 40%), url('http://i.imgur.com/e9mMLGx.png') top no-repeat; padding:550px 10px 10px 10px; border:1px solid #000;border-left:15px solid #333; border-right:15px solid #333;"><div style="padding:10px;border-left:1px dotted #eee; border-right:1px dotted #EEE; font-family:armata; font-size: 12px; color:#fffce5; text-align:justify; line-height:normal;">He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.<BR><BR>

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.<BR>
<font color=#800000>He'd felt at home.</font><BR><BR>

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.<BR><BR>

He cannot - No, <I>will not</i> allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.<BR><BR>

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.<BR><BR>

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.<BR><BR>

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.</div>

<div style="font-family:georgia; font-size: 28px; color:#800000; text-align:center; line-height:20px;">V<font style="font-size:24px;">IRGO</font><BR>
<font style="font-family:yanone kaffeesatz; font-size: 12px; color:#EEE; letter-spacing:1px; line-height:10px;">she comes at your body like a feast.
she picks you clean, then wants to know why you are so empty.
she leaves, she leaves.</font></div></div></center>



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 09-01-2015


He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

NAME
LET ME IN UNDER YOUR BED
AND I WILL YOU SHOW YOU DARKNESS AS IT CURVES INTO LIGHT.


When your mother tells you about your birth, she says it like myth,
like pain and blessings and something pink and precious.

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.
NAME
She never tells you that you were born angry, with too many teeth.



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 09-01-2015

THE SUN INSIDE OF HIM COULD SET THE KINGDOM ABLAZE;
HE KNOWS THIS, HE DOES. AND HE STILL ASKS ME TO LOVE HIM, TO FACE THE FLAME.


He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.

It is when he swallows that he realizes how painfully dry his throat is. He strains his ears for the sound of a creek or river, slinking his way toward the shore as disappointment makes his stomach sink. This place is entirely foreign, he concludes as he observes the water lapping up against the rocky soil. In all the years of his memories, there is nothing like this place in a single one.

He is truly lost for the first time in his life.

A slow sigh escapes him as his freckled shoulders slump in wicked defeat.

FIND ME IN THE ASHES.
name.



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 09-01-2015

the first time he calls you holy, you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.
the second time, you moan gospel around his fingers between your teeth.

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.
Virgo
you will ruin him and he will thank you; he will say please.



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - cellar - 09-01-2015

i am not your friend.
i am just a man who knows how to feel.

We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything. We don't feel anything.

name here.
it's coming to an end.



RE: and for all i thought i wore the crown. - Jassal - 09-01-2015

I burned so long, so quiet.
You must have wondered if I loved you back.

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.
Name
I did, I did, I do.


your bones hum my name the way gregorian monks sing of god. i wonder if they’ve always known me—if every cell in your body has just been waiting for me to come home.

He inhales sharply through his nose as he rolls across the bed of twigs and dried leaves, which prod into his muscled ribs earnestly. There is a muffled groan in response which blows a singular leaf spiraling through the air before it lands back in its place on the forest floor. Bright blue eyes flutter open for only a moment for lazily closing once more, detesting the rays of sunlight bleeding through the out stretched branches above him. His skin is glowing beneath these splashes of glimmering golden light cast by the setting sun off on the horizon but the truth is that he's used to shining much brighter than this. He'd been dreaming of the bed he'd taken up before someone or something cast him here, of the exquisite cold that the galaxies had blanketed him in. Each of his joints had erupted with light then, after the old gods pinned him to the sky like a mere insect. Burning so beautifully for so long, he'd been at peace for the first time in his life.

He'd slept for eons and then some in that silent perfection.
He'd felt at home.

His lungs suddenly suck in a sharp breath of air as realization spreads its fingers through every branch of nerves in his mind and his eyes snap open - alert, ready. He sits up on his elbows as quickly as his stiff muscles will allow. A quivering exhale eases from his lips as the pupils dance left, right, left again in search of any sign of movement. Already his skin itches to peel itself from his skeleton and let the bright red fur erupt from every pore. But the air is still, calm. Goosebumps defiantly raise themselves across his skin and the fine baby-hair of his neck bristles with adrenaline regardless of this observation.

He cannot - No, will not allow himself to rest here. His scent is already polluting the air around him. Kilig quickly rises to his feet and searches his surroundings once more, nervously running his fingers through his tossled black hair. Still there is nothing apparent to him that he may perceive as dangerous, but his legs are already moving briskly to try and figure out his location. He sniffs the air every few seconds or pauses, one foot hovering in mid air before falling once more. His pace is agonizingly slow and peppered with these anxious movements but he is putting at least some distance between himself and his former nest.
TOSKA
i tell them i am here now. i let my bones sing with your bones.
we are the kind of harmonies that make the moon rise, at night.
we are the reason the tide comes in.