I CAN'T TOUCH YOU ( open )

[sien, THE ILLUSIVE]

It is dark, but it is always dark in this forsaken place. Hovering in an indecisive twilight; never certain whether the sun will break or fall through the shadows. The darkness steadily becomes more dense and over the horizon, more shadows come to fill the gaps. It grows colder; though it is not unpleasant, more like a tickle upon your skin. Slowly this quiet land becomes silent and the creatures that continue to roam here draw still; the night is soft, so soft that it burns through the senses for what they are looking for is not there, what they are looking for cannot be found. The silence is deafning as the land halts in dreaded anticipation, for a race that cannot feel fear; they shiver, the closest reaction one will get to a scream. Something is coming.

They walk through this atmosphere with careless grace, they do not notice the change from normal for of course, they have been gone for a long time. Yet this place, it remembers them - or him - as if his presence had only left it yesterday as opposed to millennia ago. The wind blows stronger, his dark hair dances alongside it although otherwise his face remains impassive to this place. They have destroyed it. It is what he thinks as his deadened eyes scan the atmosphere, Nazura is only a shadow of its former self; the only city left in Azrazel cannot even be called such. Ruins. The city was never particularly beautiful, in fact, he'd made it intentionally so that it was not yet now even a glance toward the ruin would send a jolt of fear up ones spine. Not him of course, he'd long ago lost the capacity to feel fear; to feel anything, really.

She often asked him what it was like; living alone on a dead planet for so long. Truthfully, he could not answer her for the days had blended into years so well that he did not know what it was like. He knew that at some stage in his exile he had died, for he was no longer the same creature he once was. His desire for vengance was untouched, yet his ability to feel anything else was destroyed. Evil. That's what they had called him and yet at the time it had been untrue, they'd felt so much safer when he was banished into exile. They thought he'd never get loose. Yet now, now he was back in this land they'd created the perfect, monstrous enemy. For now he was evil, negativity was raidiated through him. What had they made of Sien through their foolishness? They'd made a compulsive, dangerous enemy who had one goal and was indifferent to who was hurt to achieve it. With their actions, they had killed any good that still lived within him.

Although their pace was slow they made a steady rhythm through the land and soon they stood before the ruins of Nazura. There was an impassive anger in his narrowed gaze as his dark eyes swept over the ruins of what had been his home. At his sides; his hands clenched into tight fists, this was the only gesture he made and from this alone we learned that he was furious. They would pay for what they had done to his land, to his paradise and to his children.

Shadows began to crawl over the ruins like flies upon a carcass; they came unbidden by his anger, responding to a demand that he had not worded out loud. Sien would soon rebuild Nazura to its former glory and to accompany it he would produce a fortress of shadow; an impenetrable shield that would mask his work from the eyes of the Malaki and Metamorphi spies for he could not have them alerted too soon. There was still far too much preparation to be done. Briefly he allowed himself to wonder what they would do once they learned he had escaped their bindings. Korvhan would know that he would be the first to go for in his foolishness he had tried to kill Niare, for millennia he'd lived with the knowledge that she'd died and yet, she stood ready for him when he escaped. She'd known he would escape and she waited for him.

Laughter sounded upon the air; cold, maniacal and with the taste of maddness to it. Slowly he turned around so that he faced toward the desolate landscape that was Azrazel. He was beginning to find himself accustomed to the bleak landscape and he even felt a half smile picking at his lips. His crimson eyes flashed wildly as he glanced to Niare; a wicked glare in hsi eyes. She would see; his children would come to him.

"Come to me."

The wind picked up so that, although the sound was whispered, it carried in a menacing echo around the land. His children would hear, his children would come. Just like they were supposed to do. Niare clutched at his arm and he gave another short cackle. Now he lifted his hands to the air, the shadows falling over him; welcoming their master. This time when he spoke it was in a deep, echoing, damning cry.

"COME TO ME!"

ooc ` just a reminder that niare is a figment of his imagination and cannot be seen by anyone else. :)

[kaliea uruen kraien]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=bfad7d] BABY YOU'RE A MAGNET FOR DISASTER It started weeks ago. At first, she didn’t really take notice of it t all; it was just a slight, faint stirring in her blood. But that stirring faintness eventually swirled inside of her and screamed silently to break loose, and as the days – days that felt like weeks, slowly went by. It built up into a hurricane that left her breathless and wanting. It was a feeling that she had not felt in a very long time - millennia, in fact, thousands of millennia, back to a specific time that was imprinted quite vigorously in her mind, of the days when she was but a youth. But such a feeling as she thought it was, Kaliea knew it was impossible, because the only being that ever stirred her blood was long gone and not coming back. She told herself that, again and again. And when the hurricane would settle into a drowsy aftermath, she would breathe a sigh of what was either relief or disappointment. But those moments were far and few, and as soon as she could breathe properly again, the hurricane would whirl up and ram against her more, and more, and each and every time it did, it was even more ferocious. Kaliea figured, in the downfall, that she was either finally losing it, or the whispers that she had been hearing were not figments of her imagination; the whispers of a father to his children, silent and unspoken. On the second week, she decided to search. The search was nothing more then a game of hot and cold. The closer she got to it, the harsher the hurricane inside of her got. The further she got from it, she was thrown off the course entirely, and everything was calm again. So she searched, searched as far as she could along the dusty, twilight of a wasteland that was her homeland. Sometimes she ventured a little further into the deserts of Ekzon-ra, or the forests of Taravehan, but she found herself back along the same trails time and time again. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Because she needed this – this thing, no matter what it turned out to be; whether it was what she hoped for or something else entirely, she needed it. It drove her into fits of rage, it made her weep; it frustrated and confused her, and sometimes she just wanted to smash the ground beneath her until she clawed it out and found it. But it was useless. Every time she would get near, or so she thought; so near that she was convinced it would be right in her grasp once she reached the horizon… and every time she did nothing was there waiting for her. Nothing but a hurricane in the pit of her stomach and a sudden loneliness; as if she were too far from home. It was a lot colder then she remembered it ever being on some nights as the hurricane became worse. She tried to give up, tried to. But she always came back looking for it because she had to. The hurricane wasn’t going to fade, nor the flaming loneliness or the infuriated anger that she hadn’t found it already. Kaliea must have searched for weeks before she finally, really, truly heard it. She was dawdling along the edge of a dirt-made, faded road. The hurricane was completely calm. There was no whirling monster inside of her anymore, it seemed; she was so close to giving up. It had gone, she’d decided, it had gone and abandoned her and she was lost. For all the millennia that she had spent on the plains of Azrazel, she was lost. Terribly, helplessly lost and she just wanted to go to sleep for a very long time until the loneliness eventually ebbed away. But then she heard it, it’s voice, it’s scream, it’s beckoning wail that ran through her; body, mind and soul. It was barely a whisper, at first, but when the second shout shattered through her she ran. She ran as fast as she possibly could towards it and didn’t stop, no matter what. She was certain she recognized it. She was certain she knew. There was no hurricane in her, just a sort of peaceful calmness that she reveled in. And she remembered, now, and she understood why she hadn’t found it sooner. She hadn’t been getting closer to it; she had been getting farther from it. For the farther she got away from it, the harsher the hurricane was, the more it pained her and alienated her. And the closer she was, the calmer she was; the more at ease, the more peaceful she was, and... kind of, slightly, maybe she was just a little happy too. It had been too long since she’d felt it, she had known that; she’d truly forgotten a lot of her seemingly endless past, or just got it jumbled up quite a bit. The last time she had felt this peace was when she was being inspected as a child by her God, just weeks before the Great War. And the last time she had felt that hurricane inside of her was he had lost, and been banished for eternity. However, she dared not to hope, or expect anything. She dared not even smile, for fear of that if she did anything more than chase that fleeting voice, the moment would shatter forever and it would be lost unto her forever. “Come to me.” She skidded to an ungraceful stop and had to force herself focus, had to regain herself, to be able to look upon the most lovely, terrifying sight she had seen since those days, long ago. White, deathly pale skin… bright green, yet dark, penetrating eyes… black hair that was shaggier than she recalled… but it was him. She felt it in the newly stirring rise of her blood, and the thumping of that seemingly heavier organ in her chest, and the weightlessness of her body. She nearly reached out to touch, just to make sure it wasn’t a heavy illusion of her old mind, but she wasn’t brave enough to, lest the scene before her should fade away into nothing. She didn’t have any words to say, questions to ask, or thoughts to act. She just… She just finally didn’t feel so alone anymore. length, 1062 music, surprisingly none comments, omgkalifirstposteverhi :D hope it's okay, been outta the game for a bit. i didn't include much details, either. what she's wearing? those rags in the header image, with bottom rags too of course ;] she prolly looks really tired, too. better more descriptive scene-wise post next time, i promise <3

[sien, THE ILLUSIVE]

Silence was what greeted his summoning; yet it was the kind of silence that preluded the thunder of a thousand voices. The realm held its breath in anticipation, how long would it take them to respond to his call? Would they understand that those that lurked within the realm belonged mind and body to him? They had no choice but to answer and yet, before he forced them to him he wanted to see who would come of their own inhibition, or who would come from a commanding word. They stood still in the silence, his eyes rested dully yet they had a fire within them that was slowly rekindling, the more time he spent on this planet the more alive he felt. It would not replace the deadness that had slowly set within him; yet it would make a slight, if inconceivable difference.

Lonliness no longer plauged him; not since Niare had found him once again, yet he could not help but wonder whether lonliness had been plauging his children for the millennia of his absence. He had placed within them, an undying loyalty and love - yes, even love - for Sien, so when he was exiled they would have felt a part of them ripped away also. Had he not been who he was then he would have felt compassion for their suffering and he would have suffered alongside them, had he been Juudas he would try to make up for what he'd done wrong. The fact was, no amount of suffering in this life or any other would compare with the bleakness of his exile. There was no comparrison to that. Afterall, it had killed him, yet he still survived. Many would like to think that he was a 'shadow of his former self', the truth was that his former self was gone, never to return, this new self was far crueler and far more evil than 'Old Sien' had ever been.

Suddenly his head cocked to the side; Niare clutched at his arm harder than before and he merely awarded her with a sly, sideways smile. He could hear footsteps; they ran quickly in his direction although from the pace of them they seemed confused, alarmed even. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. As if reacting to the change in their masters emotions, the shadows moved in a macabre tango around him, moving as if a cobra entranced by music. They became darker, more dense the longer his chuckle seemed to go on. Niare was not forgotten at his side; yet at the moment there were bigger things to imagine and to speak to. One of his children had responded to his call. It was a beginning, of course, soon they would all stand in awe beneath his feet. Once again reunited, and he would see how much of his army, his children, still remained in this land.

His hawk-like vision watched her; she would not have seen this in her haste but where she ran the shadows parted for her so that she did not run through the darkness. They encricled her in a lustfull way. His eyes watched her approach and skid to a halt. Silence came back through the land, he could feel her emotions as if they were his own. Her hand reached up toward him and yet hesitated in the air. The last time he had seen this one had been when she was a child, she fought with the strength of ten zafrire, even then she'd been so small. Yet, he knew her. The golden hair, the skin, the eyes it spoke of a child he'd known long ago. Slowly he walked forward, Niare stayed behing, uncomfortable in this scene.

A hand lifted and he caressed her cheek, a smile tainted his lips and his eyes flashed with some untold emotion. There was affection in his touch the likes that few would ever see, for this affection was shown only to his children, and even then it was only given to the obedient ones.

"It has been a long time, Kaliea. We've come so far."

[kaliea uruen kraien]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=bfad7d] CRYING OUT FOR ALL THOSE POTIONS OF SICKLY FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS This is my God, she thought, and all miniscule doubts that she might have had fled. How could she have doubted, anyway? Surely the long ages that she had stretched out through were not so long that she could have forgotten the true feelings that were only ever felt – by her, by all Daemi – when Sien was present in the world. She wondered, however, if there were any Daemi left from that time so long ago who already knew of the intensity this God brought with him, the respect he did not command but was instantaneously given, and the love they all shared for him. Was she the only true Daemi left that had already experience the unbelievably breathtaking feeling when in his presence? Secretly, she hoped it was so. For having known this feeling and being without it for so very long and then obtaining it once more, she didn’t want to share it with anyone else. This was her Father, and those ill-bred mutts that walked around with the false conception that they owned the place. They were filthy, mangy animals. Fighting and biting and bickering amongst each other, dirtying the once fierce name of the Daemi. Kaliea sighed, but she wasn’t really upset. Either she’d lost the will to get upset over trivial matters, or it was just impossible to get upset when the soothing presence of one so secretly longed for was washing over her. She felt like drowning in it. But she stayed semi-perfectly composed as she schooled through the tumult of thoughts and foreign emotions and feelings that were already flooding over her. There had been no words spoken yet, and although it had only in truth been mere seconds since Kaliea had ran her eyes over the magnificent man before her, it had felt like hours. The silence was foggy, and her mind was even more clouded. She didn’t know exactly what to think; to feel, to say, how to breathe, whether or not she should bow and grovel or just throw herself at him. More so, she was just too scared to do anything. For however old she was, for all the millennia she had forced herself through, the people she’d killed and the things she’d seen, Kaliea felt like the dribbling child she used to be, standing in front of one of the most powerful, violent, beautiful Gods in the universe. She almost quivered. Kaliea’s breathing was heavy, and it was not of exertion from the race to find him. Her hair swayed with the wind, the silver strands glinting in the scarce light that dared touch around them. She wasn’t sure what to do at all, so she decided not to do anything, to not speak and she even forced her eyes not to blink. They watered slightly from the exposure and stung, but she refused to look away for even a second. She licked her lips, suddenly self-conscious. They were dry, and cracked. She probably looked like hell – well, she definitely looked like hell. Her hair was fluttering everywhere; there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek and forehead. And since she suddenly decided to care for once, she was wearing the torn fragments of a dress that she had been wearing in her child form. She probably looked like some savage, dirty woman from the wild, rather than one of the oldest surviving Zafrire left in the world. But she decidedly didn’t really care anymore because Sien was walking towards her and before she could do any groveling, his hand was on her cheek in the sweetest caress she had ever felt. And she didn’t know quite how to meet his eyes, so she just stared at his mouth, which was tilted in a slight smile that kind of shocked her, a little awkwardly. Her lips parted slightly in an attempt to say something, but she held back the words in fear of sounding utterly stupid. Sien said something, instead, and she only barely caught the words over the drumming hum of her blood. She closed her eyes for a moment or two and muttered something inaudible; definitely a curse. “I’m still kind of sure that I’ve completely fucking lost it,” she said on a sigh, suddenly tired, “but this definitely feels real.” And with that she drew away from his touch and put a five pace distance between them. She found a rock and quite ungracefully plonked herself down on it and began to quite furiously chew her thumb nail. She had a lot of questions to ask, but she couldn’t really remember them now. She figured that he wasn’t back for a happy check up on his children, and she’d already calculated the main reasons why he would possibly have bothered to come back. She wasn’t really going to ask how he escaped, and what had happened during the time he was away, because she didn’t really want to know. She might have wanted to ask how long this – him, being here – was going to last… but she didn’t really know how to. So she just chewed her nail and waited for something more. length, 859 music, my sister's insanity comments, i needed to try and add some humor in there without being obnoxious or misplaced D: drama is so like, tense. but it's sexy too. anyways lol B)