The Other Kind of Not Fade Away - Part 5

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The Other Kind of Not Fade Away - Part 5
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Tairais
Tairais 
@Amuulzhaan 2 years ago
(( Well would you look at that; This is still going! My apologies to those whose responses I haven't replied to- I needed to write this scene between Char and Richard to further my own plotline :P
It's worth mentioning for any of you who had characters that dreamed in this storyline: I intended for this to be read as Char going through a series of dreams at different points in the TRPS timeline. Basically, this thread can be put in your characters timeline whenever, at your discretion.
These events for Char occur after Mz. Hyde's birthday and all the events that preceded it. This specific confrontation between Char and Richard happens directly after Char visits Lewis' dream, which happens almost directly after the scene from the first part of this thread.
Enjoy! ))
The darkened pine door closed behind him with a resolute 'click.'
It wasn't locked, merely closed for the time being.
The thought lent him some amount of comfort as he turned to regard the door's cedar counterpart. It stood stoically, near-silently as the faintly bubbling swamp lurked behind it. The snake, the lion, and the flames wrapping around the whole piece seemed to ripple in dreaded anticipation.
He smirked, but there was no amusement in the gesture. Displeasure rippled off him in visible waves, the illusion over his skin flaking and fluttering away where he couldn't be bothered to stitch it together at the edges.
It'd been a long day? Few weeks? Month? Months? Whatever. What had that one guy said?
"Time is irrelevant, it's not linear." That. Another song. Sure, why not?
With any luck, neither of them would resort to shouting. It wouldn't do to disturb the Amuulzhaanir that lingered nearby. They didn't take kindly to loudness, and he didn't take kindly to having to deal with them. Nosy little buggers. Noisy, too.
He cast a final, almost longing glance at the door engraved with thistles, letting the smell of burning silk fade from his nostrils before he turned to face the smell of stale, dried blood and water drawn from a well in winter.
Charricthran's hand met the door handle with a solid 'thunk', and for a moment, he was struck with a sense of déjà vu; The sensation brought to mind the lyrics to a tune he had borrowed from the distant future of a distant world left in the distant past.
Squeeze the handle/Blow out the candle/Love is blindness.
An aptly named song, that. Love blinded many a sorry fool. Richard, for all his near-other-worldliness, was no exception. He, for all his many-other-worlds-liness, was definitely no exception. Love had stranded him here, in a way.
(Red-fire-hair-burning-in-the-sunset, mischief-in-blue-gray-eyes, laughter-in-the-moonlight, falling-falling-gone)
He made icy eye contact with the black snake and sighed at the lion, then turned the handle of the door. The world around him grew almost painfully bright for a handful of moments as it followed the swell of the song playing in his ears.
Then there was a rush of cries carried on the wind, and all things were plunged into darkness.
The sound of snow crunching underfoot reached him first. The sensation of something both smooth and bumpy clutched under his talons reached him next. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the taste of ash raining from the air, smoke billowing in the sky, and burning pine needles. In the distance, there was the all-too-familiar dull roar of combat and terrible suffering, choking the life out of the wind that had carried him here.
Before him lay not the boy that rightfully belonged in that place, but Richard in the present. The remnants of limbs both clockwork and flesh lay strewn around him in a circle as if just another layer of the detritus on the forest floor. Dead ivy encircled him like puppet strings, almost charming in its beauty as it curled around Richard's neck.
He tilted his feathered guise's head and waited for the boy to wake into the dream.
Richard had dreamed often during the many feverish and desperately lonely weeks that had followed events now firmly locked away elsewhere. Most commonly, Artemis, Elias, Oliver, Catt, Lewis, or Benediktas and his counterpart had visited him in those moments.
None of them were pleased. All of them blamed him, forgave him, and discarded him in turn. None of them were their true selves.
Much as he hadn't been his true self. Lewis had known this. Hannibal and Will had known this. Perhaps, to some extent, Elias had known this as well.
Charricthran had known this, long before any of them. It had taken him until now to realize this.
Why hadn't he told him? He had asked, hadn't he? He'd offered deals and exchanges and gotten nothing in return but cryptic statements and half-truths that disintegrated under scrutiny.
Why hadn't he told himself?
It was worth remembering that in most of those dreams he had drowned in the soggy depths of his own ragged breath, that terrible, murky swamp dragging him under to join the congregation of corpses that prayed in the depths of his psyche. He hadn't been lucid enough to understand that this illness was burning away the sickened parts of not only his body, but his mind.
He knew now. He saw himself, dust suspended on light and shadow across that terrible, muddy place. He saw himself reach out towards the husk that wore his name, and saw his body turn into the dust that made it, scattering just out of reach.
Each time he told himself 'If I could only reach a little further, I would be whole'. Each time he told himself 'I am already whole'.
Each time, he knew he was lying.
Each time, he drowned as the dust settled, choking on algae and tar and water that tasted vaguely like tears long since dried.
Each time, he lost that glimmer of revelation.
He was drowning again. His fever had broken, and he was drowning in a pool of his own sweat, weeks, months,
years, days, hours? in the making. No longer did that glimmer of recognition and revelation call to him, reach out to him.
It sang from the shores of consciousness and lucidity, and asked to meet him, ill myiet by moonlight.
He couldn't breathe! How was he supposed to swim, if muscle died and atrophied without the oxygen to carry it?
His arms heaved him to the surface again, reaching ever onward, his mouth and nose just breaking the surface to swallow a half-breath of air before the muck hit his throat, spasming something terrible as he fell under again.
And again.
And again.
And...
And...
Richard came to with a harsh intake and and a full-body twitch that wasn't really like him. He'd almost missed it under the sound of some sort of explosion nearby.
"Hey there, Ricky-boy. Fancy meeting you here."
There was a moment's pause as Richard tried to push himself into an upright position, only to realize his limbless predicament. All things considered, the kid recovered admirably well, slipping on his placid mask as he sat up using nothing more than his abdominal muscles.
He'd taught the kid well.
It took him a few moments to realize the kid wasn't talking. He was not impressed. (He wasn't supposed to be in the first place, what did it matter? Something was wrong, very wrong.)
"You and I both know you're perfectly capable of thinking in this state. Cut it out, or I'll tear my way so far into your thoughts you won't have a f**king choice in the matter. We need to talk." (That wasn't what you said. You asked if the kid was okay- what's going on?)
Richard frowned, and still he was greeted with silence. He smiled in the cruelest of ways. (Stop this, what are you doing, Charricthran?)
"So be it."
(Oh. Oh no nono. Gods damn it. Not again. You're not doing this again, Char.)
And when next Richard was aware, he was screaming until his throat bled raw in the confines of his own mind. A strange form bled shadow and ice where it stood above him. There was no way to describe the perversity of the complete and total invasion of one's mind and self, and he would not be inclined to do so if there was.
Some things were better left unknown. He would forget this when he woke, thankfully. He had a feeling it wasn't the first time this had happened. The revelation was like the aftershocks of lightning- fleeing, fading, gone against a storm of agony.
Something tore the words from their hidden places in the corners of his mind and left gaping wounds in their wake as it threw them to his feet. He both knew and didn't know what it was.
Something was wrong
"Talk. You know as well as I that that was the dumbest path to put all of us down. It couldn't have been more obviously labelled if it had had blood smeared on the doorway and been set on fire." (All right, time to grab a hold of yourself, Char. This is set to all go to the Nine Hells if you don't.)
Was it? He hadn't noticed.
Charricthran narrowed his eyes. "Yes, see, we were supposed to have stopped this nonsense. Need I enunciate my point again?" (Your name is Charricthran-Kothar. That's Richard. He's a friend. A kid. Same color hair as Catt and the one you left behind. Don't hurt him.)
No, he really did not need to.
"Then explain. What the Hells were you thinking? Artemis is dead and its your fault. You know that as well as I. You could have just sent them a letter, and they would have let him go. You knew this. What the Hells were you thinking?" (That's not fair to Richard, and you know that a letter wouldn't have done- focus, don't hurt him you idiot! Untangle yourself! Untangle him!)
He hadn't been. He didn't see another option- how was he supposed to know with certainty? It was supposed to have been easier to control the variables of a situation face to face with them. Artemis was the only variable he couldn't account for.
Charricthran hopped off his perch on the stag's antlers, melting into the form of humanity as he did so. He watched the creature traipse into the forest just in time to hear the cry of gunshots anew in the distance as he cast a glance over his shoulder. (This is different from the other times. Something is very wrong, something is very, very wrong. You need to get out, Charricthran. Now)
He turned to face Richard with a smile as sharp as it was forced.
"You see, I'm almost inclined to believe that, except you're a control freak. As in, you quite nearly literally exploded when I suggested we split ways to cover more ground. You're a titchy kid, Ticky-Ricky. Why wasn't that gear ticking? W̸hy!̨ Aŕe̶ ̢y͜o̵ų! ͏Ly̵ing?"
(Not good. Not good at all. Quick- think of mismatched eyes and red-burning-sunset-hair. You need to stop this before it's too late-)
Richard snarled, blood trickling down his face as it poured from his eyes and nose. Charricthran was still smiling, even if he didn't have a form, even if his smile was just the gaps where light filtered through the shadows underneath his skin.
Artemis was dead because of Richard. The kid was dead because of Richard. Their brother was dead because of RICHARD. (STOP THINKING LIKE THAT! IT'S NOT TRUE!)
Charricthran saw the moment Richard went from monster to man in his own mind and both reveled in it and feared it. Richard saw the moment Char wrestled control of himself for a handful of moments, feathers bubbling and swimming over his hastily assembled visage like water over the pebbles in a brook.
Not lying, not lying! You can see that, I'm not lying, I didn't know! (He was lying, just a little. He knew,
but he didn't know how to change it- had held out hope too long, had put too much stock in kindness AGAIN-) I want him back as much as you, more than you, understand-
"Let me go, kid. This ain't what I wanted ta talk like or about. I ain't your villain- that's someone else's job. Don't let the sigil fool ya, I'm not your demon, kid. Let it go. This isn't me. Let me-"
What do--
Richard froze.
He didn't mean that metaphorically-- No sooner had the words left his lips, than the same sharp light reappeared, blanketing everything in an icy chill as it chased the sight from their eyes.
Everything. Froze.
Though it could not be seen, Charricthran went very, very still and very, very pale.
Snow fell in sheets. Every snowflake that passed his eyes was a paintbrush spreading color onto the world again.
Richard was gone. The trees were gone. The percussion of warfare and the voices of the dying and all their terrible, beautiful symphonies were gone.
There was silence. Everything was horribly, beautifully silent.
There was stillness. Everything was horrifically, beautifully still.
There was the crunch of ice underfoot, and a freezing hand on his shoulder.
Everything was frozen. Charricthran was frozen.
He could not move, even as icy fingers traced the back of his neck like a lover's touch and stopped at the nape of it. He could not move, even as the nails at the ends of those fingers pierced the skin underneath them and made shadows bleed upwards and away.
It was snowing. Richard would never let it snow in his dreams. January snows were forbidden things.
This was no longer Richard's dream. He didn't think it had been to start with.
Wonderful.
He definitely wasn't panicking. He definitely wasn't carefully keeping all things still, even his thoughts, and he definitely wasn't thinking about the oh-so-careful breaths he was taking that he didn't need, but that the hands behind him didn't know he didn't need.
He definitely wasn't trying to hold on to every advantage possible because he definitely hadn't met this thing time and time again and he definitely didn't fear it with every fiber in his being because it definitely wasn't the one thing the sigil-slash-safeguard on his chest saw as Equal To Her and-
There was a chuckle to be found in the crunch of ice underfoot as something much taller than he shifted its weight. It sounded of the crackling breaths of one smothered beneath their own lungs with a cold, of rasping, dying breaths in winter, of cracking ice and softly roaring avalanches.
The voice that followed had been kissed by frost and the howls of a blizzard, then smothered under the aftermath of both these things. It slithered into his ears like a tongue and curled down into his heart like a dying thing.
"Y̡ou͝ ha͝v̷e̷ ̷been̵ ̢n͘au̴g͠ht̢y̨, M͡r͡.̵ ͘We͡lu͡n.̨"
The hand on the back of his nape tightened, threatening to rip his illusion to shreds.
A hand he'd not seen move fluttered at the small of small of his back before it nudged, just so.
He fell into The Other with the shattering sound of all their lives falling to pieces in the distance.
There were no words to describe the perversity of the total invasion of one's mind and self.
He would not be inclined to do so if there were.
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Tairais • 2 years ago
(( Wizardblizzard Glad to hear you're back, even if the productivity is lacking! Dunno if you still wanted to keep going with Bell's dream, but if you do, I'm here! ))
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Tairais • 2 years ago
(( Catt Hatter Your last post, Kitt-Catt!
Once the scales had been completely carved away, Catt curled up, clinging to his arm. He could feel her shacking as her breath gradually became more even through her sobs.
"I-is it g-gone?" she whimpered, as the bleeding slowed to a stop. "I don't wanna be mean like a dragon..." ))
Charricthran shoved the last vestiges of his magic out of sight- not so far away that he'd not be able to summon them if the need came, but far enough it wouldn't get in the way. As soon as that was out of the way, he wrapped Catt in his arms, keeping his grip loose in case she needed space at the moment.
"Hey now, kid. You're not gonna be like the dragon unless ya wanna be. I can pretty safely say that with a reaction like that, ya DON'T wanna be. Dunno if the dragon's gone, though. Might be a monster only you can face. I'll be here by your side to help if you want, though. Smashing things in the face is a specialty o' mine."
All that was said with a fond smile, an attempt to inject humor into a dark situation. Who was to say how well it worked? He was still chasing off the aftereffects of righteous rage borrowed from a time long past-- He was certainly in no state to judge such things like emotion.
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Catt Hatter  Tairais • 2 years ago
Catt curled up in his arms, her small fists clinging to his jacket, taking what comfort she could from the unfamiliar embrace. Flesh gradually grew and covered the torn places where the scales had been.
"I don't want to, but I'm scared I don't know how not to..." Her voice was low and hoarse as she scrunched her eyes shut and groaned as if in pain. It sounded so unnatural coming from such a small body.
She just wanted to keep crying, to cry until there was nothing left, but as always, her tears stopped before she wanted too.
"It's so easy to mess up." She sniffled, her body growing heavy from the intensity of what the two of them had just been through.
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Tairais  Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
"Aw, kid. I wish I was good enough with words so that I knew I was actually reassurin' ya. Be it as it may, I'm gonna try, all right?"
Charricthran looked down and gave her a hug and a wry grin before clearing his throat to continue.
"Living as long as I have, I've come ta know a couple of things. Firstly, not knowing how to be is the first step in findin' out how ta be. Once you start askin' yourself that question, ya step on the path of self-discovery-- or somethin' equally pretentious."
"Secondly, mistakes are what make us change an' grow- it's perfectly all right ta make em. Usually if they're made with good intentions, they can be fixed. Its what we do after the mistakes that matters- seems to me like the dragon over there probably let hers fester in inaction until they turned into hatred. Hatred doesn't do much to help when it's based on somethin' inside yourself."
"Thirdly, you're a kinder soul than most, and there's not a chance in all Nine Hells that you're gonna end up like that if you keep being kind. And if someone tries ta tell you otherwise, let me know and I'll either sit down an' talk with em, or I'll pummel them into the ground. Your choice. All o' this is your choice, really. Same as anything in life-- ya gotta start walking down the road before anythin' can happen."
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Catt Hatter  Tairais • 2 years ago
At the mention of mistakes made with good intentions, fresh tears crept into Catt's eyes and a chill breeze began to whistle and moan through the valley, making the trees rustle.
"But, what about the mistakes that can't be fixed," she sniffled. " "Even though there were good intentions? As much as I may want too, there's no way to fix it... he's gone..."
The muttering wind almost sounded like words as the bones twitched, slowly coming together.
I'm horrible...how could I have so little concern for his life...didn't deserve it...I would do it again...he was attacking her...she nearly died...
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Tairais  Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
Charricthran sighed softly; He knew all too well the kinds of mistakes the kid was talking about.
"Well, kid. Those are harder. You have ta look at the choices you made and decide if they were worth it, or if they were the best choice according to what you prioritized. Does his bein' gone mean that someone else gets to live in his stead? Was that choice what you thought best, rather than someone else's best? Sometimes the best choice isn't the one that's best for everyone. Then again, what do I know? I've always been more concerned with family, friend, and self, rather than morals."
He snickered softly, watching the shifting bones in the wind with a halfway suspicious glance.
"Might not be the best role model, me. Never really been worried about morality overmuch- no place to, most of the time. Still, at the end of the day, you're the one who has to live with your choices. It's up to you ta let em go, kid."
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Catt Hatter  Tairais • 2 years ago
Catt sighed, her small frame relaxing against him.
"I wonder, do I deserve to?" She murmured, eyes drooping shut. "Do I deserve to let them go? It was the best I could do at the time, in that place, but what of justice? What of penance?"
So tired...
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Tairais  Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
"Were it up to me, I'd say yes. It's up to you, though. Pay justice and penance through atonin' through action if ya must, just don't let it drown ya. Nothin's worth losing yourself, see."
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Catt Hatter  Tairais • 2 years ago
She nodded sleepily, a yawn breaking her words.
"I believe that... sounds...horrible.... y'self is all you have..."
Her head dipped as her eyes drifted shut involuntarily. Nearby, the still forming skeleton tried to push itself up onto its elbows, before falling back into the snowy hill.
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Tairais  Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
Charricthran chuckled and gently patted Catt on the back, even as he watched the skeletal remnants of the dragon tumble ever closer to reemerging.
Catt was safe for the time being, hopefully. He rather hoped she woke up soon- prolonged nightmares were not fun.
He kept his arms wrapped around her as best he could while lowering her to the ground. He slowly unfurled his favored pair of wings, watching as the feather's shadows bled like rain across the snowy backdrop.
He really f*ckin hated snow. And ice. And being cold. The last one he couldn't help, since he didn't have any body temperature to speak of.
Still. He liked warm places. He'd been born in a warm place. And, frankly, snow never meant anything good for anyone he liked. Ever. Doubly so if they happened to have red hair.
...
How in the name of the Nine Hells had he wound up with three kids that fit that exact criteria? Talk about statistical improbability. Which he wasn't. What was the point of that?
At any rate. He continued to watch the dragon with steadily narrowing eyes, biding his time and humming softly under his breath for no other reason than its what he would have done if She were here, or he was Home and things were calm as they could be.
It was a familiar melody, murmured an octave lower than its usual place. Sacred, almost. A gift, certainly.
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The Fox • 2 years ago • edited
Resham turned around, his focus interrupted by a distant rumble.
" ... "
It wasn't everyday he could feel the edges of other worldly places, especially considering how rarely these things tend to cross over. The world was isolated, usually cut off from such things. The world never sought to reach out and it was better that way. However, there had been more of these disturbances, each one more drastic than the last.
As an extension of the earth and her elements, it was his duty to protect her and fend off any foreign dangers...but this? This didn't feel like a threat.
Sure, it could feel volatile at times, but it never felt like a malicious attempt to invade this earth. It was mostly curious and benign...to a point. From the times he did get a chance to investigate, there was always a subdued violence about the scene. There were even times he found dead bodies left behind, shadowless and altered by this alien touch.
The brass eagle pushed the thought away, burying it and the emotion it brought with it. His mental landscape shifted with each change, Cerulean clouds and soft breezes filling its distant corners.
It was so close, yet so far as well...
Maybe he could track it down and finally see who this foreigner was? He could try certainly, but who's to say it was a creature at all? For all he knew, it could be some roving wind, lost in the outlandish country he called home.
A beat passed, clouds gathered and breezes turned into gusts. With a deep breathe, Resham flew up and followed the rumble. What harm would it do to at least take a peek?
( Here comes a special boy! :D )
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
(( Oh dang what up!
Also, you get the plot point! :P ))
He'd stayed in The Other for only a handful of moments before clawing his way back onto the Shifting paths.
He didn't think being in the reflection of his mind was a particularly good idea at the moment. Who knew what changes had been wrought by those frigid, dead hands?
It was still snowing, though. Lightly, but he hated it with a vehement passion all the same. It wasn't supposed to snow for any of them- none of them liked it. All things died under the white ice, and all memories were buried in the blizzards that followed in its wake.
This wasn't right, this was so far from right you'd want to call it left, except left was still more right than right, right?
What in all the Nine Hells was he even thinking?
He kept moving, kept walking, and eventually the sound of his shattering plans slowed to a distant, insistent rumble. It was starting to get warmer, though not by much. Another dream of some sort, tasting of light and feathers around the edges. Something like him, perhaps?
Interesting. Was it coming from behind him? Yes and no- there were no directions, really. As it was, this slowly-encroaching presence was a better path away from himself, so why not?
He scooped up the thoughts and emotion swirling in the air next to the last few snowflakes and crushed them in his fist, throwing the half-snowball away as hard as he could.
Not dealt with by any means, but it would buy him enough time, hopefully.
It really wouldn't do to panic in front of a guest or guests. There were too many things at stake to risk that.
Once he was alone again, he could safely curl up in a ball and shriek with mortal terror in relative peace and quiet. After he had an actual talk with Richard, one that hopefully wouldn't end in snow and panic and f-
Snowball that out of there, Charricthran. You have company.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
As Resham got closer, it became clear that the source of the disruption was indeed a stranger and this stranger was currently downed. Not only that, there was also a heaviness in the air, almost as though there was a dense fog he couldn't see.
With a beat of his wings, he banked upwards, trying to rise above the feeling. He looked down on the small figure as it came into sight. It was small, avian, and rather exhausted if he wasn't mistaken. Overall, harmless enough for the moment.
Resham circled around the clearing, taking one last look at the raven before easing his way down and landing just a yard away.
His metallic feathers fluffed up instinctively as he eyed Charricthran with a curious look. He stared for a bit before speaking, standing up straight with a polite bow.
" Hello friend! I take it you've been the one whose been causing all this ruckus? I'm Resham, it's a pleasure to meet you. "
He offered a slight smile as a light breeze entered the space. The void around them shifted into a sky blue cloudscape with the feeling of sunlight filling the area.
Resham tilted his head with interest.
" Who might you be? "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran hadn't realized he'd shifted guises until he'd snapped his head up to meet the eyes of the...
Eagle made out of metal.
...
All right. Not the strangest thing he'd ever seen, but this guy's timing was terrible. Still, he managed to pull off his typical wry grin-of-too-many-teeth with minimal difficulty as he tamped down his internal panic.
Focus. Keep your form. It won't do to fall apart- don't give them a chance to spot any weaknesses you have like this.
He returned the bow, straightening up with a languorous stretch.
"I'm called Charricthran. I also didn't mean ta cause a ruckus- I'm usually the only one who ever walks the Paths. Didn't know anyone else could. Welcome to the party, I guess."
Keep your magic in check, hold your cards close to your chest, be ready to fight, be ready for flight. Could be one of his puppets- you never know.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
" I only walk them when necessary, so don't worry. "
Resham waved a wing much like a person would wave a hand to soothe another.
" Besides, We were bound to meet sometime anyways, so why not now? Necessarily we should've met much earlier, but I'm not without my responsibilities. "
He sighed. His demeanor shifted from open and jovial to subdued and self conscious.
" Now I don't want to alarm you, so know that I'm not here to hurt you. I am an ambassador of sorts for Earth and I am suppose to investigate any strange activity from other worlds... "
The eagle started walking forward, talking as he did.
" Having said that, I can see that you aren't any threat. So I'd like to welcome you to Earth, though it may no longer be needed. "
Resham let out an anxious laugh.
" What an Ancient I turned out to be... "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran relaxed slightly, but only just.
"Eheh, yeah, no. Just watchin', me. As I have for the past... buncha bloody centuries at least. More than likely at least a millennium or two or three. Not my first Earth either but anyways, capital-A-Ancient? What's that all about? Sounds important, if you're worried about not bein' a good one."
More likely than not, they weren't on his Shifting Paths. He didn't think this Resham would be half so comfortable there.
A space Between, most likely. All sorts of capitalized words were being thrown about.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
The eagle stopped a foot away from Charricthran and, with a flick of his talons, pulled a small knot of clouds and nestled into them. Some came down in front of Charrricthran, should he want to do the same.
As he did this, Resham listened politely to his guest. His smile returned when the raven finished speaking.
" Millenniums eh? If that's the case then I'm REALLY late for this party. And these other worlds...You must be a vagabond then. I would ask what made you leave you're first Earth but I'm going to make the assumption that's a secret. "
At the Ancients question, his feathers fluffed up with delight and embarrassment. He went to smoothing them down as he went about answering the question.
" Aaah, well there's no wrong way to be an Ancient.
To answer you're question, here on this Earth, we Ancients are beings that have existed since the birth of the planet. Some of us were here at the start while others came shortly after. Nevertheless, all Ancients are composed of the heart and soul of this realm and the elements that make life possible. "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran managed to find purchase on the clouds despite everything going fuzzy at the edges of.. everything, really. It was hard to stay together while his thoughts were so scattered- the drawback to his existence, really.
"Not so much a secret as deeply unpleasant. An' if there's no wrong way ta be an Ancient, why worry? Sounds like a nifty status to have, at any rate. Me, I'm just ancient. Not an Ancient by your definition."
This conversation made for a good distraction, and for that, he was grateful.
Anything to forget icy fingers at the back of his neck, pinching, pulling, freez-
Not here.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
He shifted uncomfortably, the question poking at something delicate. Resham looked away for a moment as he answered Charricthran.
" Aaah, well if I didn't worry...If I didn't worry, I'd be worse off. Apathy makes a creature ugly, you know?"
His talons gripped his cloud nest anxiously, little tufts curling up between each toe. He cleared his throat and turned back to Charricthran. He went to speak but stopped.
It wasn't clear to him before but now he could feel it clearly. Charricthran wasn't all to well at the moment. Resham pushed his instinctive fear away, speaking in a quiet, concerned tone.
" Are you alright? I can take somewhere else if you'd like. "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran flashed another wry grin. "Must explain my terrible looks, then. It's rather hard ta care about much when you outlive everything far from home. Still, 'm glad you've something to worry about. Focus is good."
He fluffed up his feathers for warmth to chase off a chill that didn't really exist.
"Nah. This is fine. Talkin' helps. Just need ta chase off things."
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