08-07-2016, 06:35 PM
YOU CAN STAND ME UP AT THE GATES OF HELL, BUT I WON'T BACK DOWN.
Life had been a constant onslaught of distress, heartbreak and devastation - each and every time his body, heart and mind began to mend, it would yet again unfurl, unraveling at the seams and leaving him an empty husk festering in his own desperation. The never-ending cycle of loss and and rebirth eventually grew to be too much to bear, and with an aching heart, he pushed himself away from all he had ever known. Loved ones were forgotten, left to disintegrate into ashes by the forceful hand of time, and his memories were buried to the very deepest, darkest recesses of his mind.
There, he could not suffer their wrath - there, he could be numb.
The puckered pink scars that litter his behemoth body are not from battle alone, though many along his rib cage and flank told the tale of a fierce warrior - but others told a darker tale, one of dismal depression and hopelessness. Distraught by the many empty, lonely years he had spent wandering aimlessly, without love, without indulging in even the slightest interaction (he could not bear to lose another he loved to the harsh hand of time, not again), he was driven to madness. Having thrown himself into the ocean more times than he could possibly attempt to count - lunging off of steep cliffs, allowing starvation to settle in and for his body to grow sallow and weak, leaving himself for the prowling vultures overhead - none of it was ever a fruitful end.
Hard-wired to live an eternity, an eternity he would live. Soon, he was forced to not only accept, but to understand that he would never see the end of his days. It had been a painful pill to swallow
It had taken time, but he eventually surrendered to his own insatiable need for affection, for communication, for community. The icy borders had given him shelter, and in turn, he had fought to give it life. The years had gone by, but now he had much to focus his mind on. The lives of many depended on him now. He did not often let his mind sift through his darker days, determined to leave their sooty shadow behind him, long forgotten and buried beneath a new vigor for life. He knew eventually he would have to face it again - the loss of his sweet Isle, the death of his children - his grandchildren, while he remained young and vibrant - but he could not simply wait for the clock to tick away.
Not this time.
His breath his warm across his own sweat-dampened lips, his dark eyes peering at the other as he takes in his rather stocky, broad build. Though dissimilar, there was still a strength exuding from him - a certain air of confidence that he had little doubt came with the wisdom of age, much like his own. Perhaps the familiarity had come from a lifetime ago. Perhaps he had seen him, or known of him, in a different time or place. His lungs heave with another long sigh as the stagnant humidity washes over him once more, but the gentle breeze keeps his restlessness at bay. At least, for now. A low, rumbling chuckle rouses from his throat as he casts a glance out towards the golden plain.
"Magnus. Familiar, somehow - though I can't say that I can place it. You seem better built for this weather than I, I dare say." A snort. His eye moves to study him again, but the tension has long since gone away. "I come from the Tundra, and I am not sure why I chose today of all days to venture out. A poor decision on my part. Where are you from?"
There, he could not suffer their wrath - there, he could be numb.
The puckered pink scars that litter his behemoth body are not from battle alone, though many along his rib cage and flank told the tale of a fierce warrior - but others told a darker tale, one of dismal depression and hopelessness. Distraught by the many empty, lonely years he had spent wandering aimlessly, without love, without indulging in even the slightest interaction (he could not bear to lose another he loved to the harsh hand of time, not again), he was driven to madness. Having thrown himself into the ocean more times than he could possibly attempt to count - lunging off of steep cliffs, allowing starvation to settle in and for his body to grow sallow and weak, leaving himself for the prowling vultures overhead - none of it was ever a fruitful end.
Hard-wired to live an eternity, an eternity he would live. Soon, he was forced to not only accept, but to understand that he would never see the end of his days. It had been a painful pill to swallow
It had taken time, but he eventually surrendered to his own insatiable need for affection, for communication, for community. The icy borders had given him shelter, and in turn, he had fought to give it life. The years had gone by, but now he had much to focus his mind on. The lives of many depended on him now. He did not often let his mind sift through his darker days, determined to leave their sooty shadow behind him, long forgotten and buried beneath a new vigor for life. He knew eventually he would have to face it again - the loss of his sweet Isle, the death of his children - his grandchildren, while he remained young and vibrant - but he could not simply wait for the clock to tick away.
Not this time.
His breath his warm across his own sweat-dampened lips, his dark eyes peering at the other as he takes in his rather stocky, broad build. Though dissimilar, there was still a strength exuding from him - a certain air of confidence that he had little doubt came with the wisdom of age, much like his own. Perhaps the familiarity had come from a lifetime ago. Perhaps he had seen him, or known of him, in a different time or place. His lungs heave with another long sigh as the stagnant humidity washes over him once more, but the gentle breeze keeps his restlessness at bay. At least, for now. A low, rumbling chuckle rouses from his throat as he casts a glance out towards the golden plain.
"Magnus. Familiar, somehow - though I can't say that I can place it. You seem better built for this weather than I, I dare say." A snort. His eye moves to study him again, but the tension has long since gone away. "I come from the Tundra, and I am not sure why I chose today of all days to venture out. A poor decision on my part. Where are you from?"
OFFSPRING
THE FIRE AND ICE KING OF THE TUNDRA