Has she been invited to Milos’s home? Not expressly. But it’s her right as his older sister to become acquainted with the residence, anyhow, or so she figures. David’s offered her a room in his home, had one prepared for Mara already in case she came by — the thought briefly fills her stomach with warmth — but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t intend to make herself at home at her brother’s place as well. Only, when the front door opens, though the man inside is indeed a blond, it’s not the one that Mara is looking for. “You’re not Milos.” The ‘so who the fuck are you?’ follow up question is implied. ( @noahkramer )
There are more kobaloi in the city than just Ikaros, and, evidently, more siblings of them as well. It’s a strange sort of point of connection to have with someone, and yet that’s exactly the the position Ari finds himself in now. Though Monty seemed to thrive on making the human as uncomfortable as possible, he also did mention having a brother of his own, and perhaps it was Ari’s own curiosity that led him to Noah. Funny, when he met the other man at the coffee shop before, he wouldn’t have expected anything like this. His gaze falls down to the to-go cup in his hands, playing with the tab on the plastic lid — a nervous tell. “Has Monty talked to you much about it? All his lives?” Ariston is almost afraid to ask for more details from Ikaros. ( @noahkramer )
Day drinking. A habit Anemos is fond of. They feel as if they deserve it, after the hard work they’ve been putting into ruining lives recently. They sit outside, lounged on a park bench with a bottle in hand, daring anyone to come and say something, to give them another outlet to target their nightmares. It fills a satisfied, vindictive side of the oneiroi to make others pay for their discomfort and inconvenience. Still, the one that approaches is easily recognizable from the brightness of his soul, the familiarity of his presence, and Anemos knows this one is fully off limits. Not that they would find reason to curse Noah, he really is not so bad so far as phoenixes go, if just a little bit too selfless. Perhaps they are a little bit fond of him. “You’re blocking my sun,” they say, half in jest, taking another drink from their bottle. “Shouldn’t you be with Nemesis?”
This is the second time Ophelia’s been confronted with the same, glowing bright aura of magic, and she’s just as mystified by it as before. She is going to figure this out, one way or another. She identifies the blond man as her person of interest, the warm magic practically flowing off of him in waves, and subtly begins to make her approach until she’s close enough to stumble into his side, her iced coffee spilling all over his shirt. “Oh, pardon— Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her voice turns to a higher pitch in a display of faked distress. “I swear, I think someone shoved me, the bastard.” Her head whips around as if to locate said person who does not exist from the crowd of passersby on the street, before returning to the strangely magical man. “God, I’ve made such a mess. Please, let me pay for you to get it dry-cleaned, or something.”
Su corazón latía demasiado al estar a su lado, era la primera persona que se atrevía abrir su corazón por completo. Sentía que podía ver más allá que su apariencia física, podían hablar, debatir, ver películas, hacer lo que fuera que no fuera solamente algo sexual. Amaba cada segundo que pasaba alado de Noah y nunca se había sentido tan feliz. Caminaban por las afueras de la escuela cuando este la beso y siguió el beso, ni siquiera lo dudo pero se separó unos segundos para mirarlo a los ojos. ❝Te amo❞ no se percató que dijo lo que su corazón gritaba pero era la primera vez que se lo decía alguien que fue no fuera de su familia. @xprinceofthecityx
❝No, no te queda bien❞ molestó a su hermano aún recostado porque ni siquiera había visto la camisa pero después se sentó en la cama para observarlo. ❝¿Y cómo entraste?❞ se supone que no debían de entrar chicos al cuarto de chicas, por suerte no había nadie más. ❝Espera, ¿Te arreglaste y peinaste? ¿Te pusiste loción? Vaya, si debe gustarte❞ lo molestó de nuevo con una sonrisa en el rostro. ❝Estas pasable, aunque me da miedo que cada día te pareces más a papá. ¿No terminarás por ponerte a cantar o sí?❞ Después de todo, ambos habían heredado la buena voz de su padre. @xprinceofthecityx
Send ‘GAME OVER’ to get a glimpse of one of the worse possible endings that can happen to my muse in their life.
tw: death, depression
So this is the end of the world.
They would’ve preferred ice, in all honesty. But everything burns in the end.
The little phoenix burned, his last life expended too soon, until only ash remained where he once stood. Perhaps some of the grief they felt had been their own, and not just for the sake of Nemesis. Noah was not the type of person the spirit usually found companionship in, the species itself usually all too self-righteous to abide their kind of machinations, but he had been a bit different. What started as accommodation to someone who would hold a lasting place in Nemesis’s life, grew into it’s own sort of fondness. Whether he’d ever felt the same about them, they can’t say, but the sorrow that filled them as they watched the flames consume him whole is a rare sensation, only experienced a few times before.
Ramesses. Nefertari. Anathema. Vasilis. All lost to time.
It did not take Nemesis very long to follow after. Anemos knew that feeling, the despair and pain of losing someone as close as their own soul, all too well, but none of their words could console the other oneiroi. In the end, they only desired to see their phoenix again. And so they find themselves alone again, as the world burns around them. There is a war happening, fighting in the streets directed by the hands of feuding powers, but the spirit feels too hollow to care.
Patroclus is there. He pleads with Anemos to help him, to keep fighting. That if the veil falls, they will no longer be safe in Elysium. They will never see any of them again, and Anemos’s very existence could simply fade away. They stand numbly and ignore the rift, dead eyes staring forward. They do not want this life anymore, not when they must live it alone. Their existence has only been marked by pain and loneliness, three thousand years of torment with brief glimpses of sunshine. We can only take the happiness as it comes, and know that eventually it will come again, even when the night is dark. They had told Nemesis that, once. But what they hadn’t shared was the fact that after standing in the sun, returning to the darkness is to become blind again. Stand in the shadows for so long, and the eyes begin to adjust, grow used to the dark, only to lose it all for that little bit of sunlight.
They are tired, and do not care to go through the readjustment process again.
And so they let it happen. They stand aside, and watch as everything burns. Their magic grows weaker as the veil tears more and more, a losing fight for the ones that care enough to attempt to defend it. They consider taking off their talisman and crushing it themselves, but in the end, Anemos decides to let the universe sort itself out. Put the decision in fate’s hands, and let the sisters decide if the oneiroi’s time has come to an end.
They’re standing out on the cliffside when it happens. Anemos can feel it all at once when it falls, the last little bit of their magic fading out. Like a diming light, they stand resolute as they stare off into the horizon, their very essence slipping away into the wind until there is nothing left where the spirit once stood. No evidence of the fact that they ever existed, except a single carving on one of the wooden rails. Two names.
