In Dire Straits
[PRP] these aching bones [shark] - Printable Version

+- In Dire Straits (https://dires.net)
+-- Forum: The In Between (IC) (https://dires.net/forum-20.html)
+--- Forum: The Neutrals (https://dires.net/forum-72.html)
+--- Thread: [PRP] these aching bones [shark] (/thread-1636.html)

these aching bones [shark] - Rita - October 22, 2017

[ i'll get around to prettying these posts up later. ]


She was tired.

No.

As she meandered through the woods that held as little meaning to her as the last boulder she’d passed, there was a weight at her ankles. The warbling calls of competitive, hormonal songbirds did little to rise up against the droning rings buried deep in her ears. Despite her steadied breaths, there was a depth in her chest that was never filled, never settled. An overwhelming emptiness - a lacking that echoed like a looming storm just over the hill. Though it never showed its face, she could hear the grumbles and sense the subtle pressure changes in the air.

She was weary.

The days blended in with each other, each bearing as little importance or significance as the last seven. Nearby gurgles from a small river had inadvertently redirected her path as the mutt found herself dragging her paws against the loose soil. Here the trees rotted, the vegetation scrambling over each other for the few scraps of fertile ground. Only the fungi thrived, feasting off the decay. How she felt a part of it all, rotting with the rest of it.

But she waded into the waters, too still to whisk her away yet active enough to warrant some minor degree of attention. Golden eyes stared absently at a bouldered ledge that jut out from the river’s edge, climbing up it, dripping. Its warmth against her belly did not come from the sun, but rather the absence of a chill that came from the waters. Rita lay herself down, her limbs collapsing in a rather disjointed manner as she laid her forepaws out.

Idle, she’d watch. Watch the days continue to move on without her. Watching herself stay still as time continued, a queen frozen in her own story.

Gyr - Shark - October 22, 2017

He found himself whispering outloud.

To himself- to others- to anyone- just whispering.  Telling stories of the past as he walked, whispering names that used to make the earth shift from under his feet, but now, the names were empty- meanigless- betrayal at its finest.   Still sometimes the names were static in his brain, there were so many- so many.  So many names that triggered the feelings of anger, and wrath.  So many names that he had spoken aloud at one point with authority and vigor, now they were just whispers into the wind.  Whispers that had no meaning to the rest of the world, but all the meaning to him.

These whispers would grow into growls, as he said the names, each one causing a different reaction.  Some would only be relased as a whisper, while others would escape with a snarl and a growl, spittle flying from his mouth as he said them.  His pace quickened as the list becgan to cover those he considered the most treacherous, the most inhumane.  The ones that had done him the most wrong.  Raikov. Morgan. Tripp.  All members of his family. ALL related.  ALL TREACHEROUS.  ALL RELATED TO HIM AND-

Rita.

He stopped.  The static stopped.  For a moment- the world blackened as his eyes pinpointed onto something- someone  laying in front of him.  Time slowed- stopped- then started again.  He stood still, his eyes narrowing.  Rita was dead, who was this then? Mercedes? Back form the dead TO TORMENT HIM!?  His lips began to peel back into a snarl.  He would not let her.  His ears pinned back to his head, drool began to leak from his mouth.  RITA WAS DEAD WHO WAS THIS?!  Hackles rose, bristled to their fullest extent.

"WHO! ARE! YOU?!"  Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed at her- at it- whatever it was.  A ghost, a spectre of his former lover?  A malignant tumor slowly eating away at his brain, just as the syndrome had started to do.


He breathed heavily- heaving breaths as he tried to figure out what. This. Was

RE: these aching bones [shark] - Rita - October 22, 2017


She’d heard him before she saw him.

But, in truth, she’d refused to believe it. He had been the key to life, before. The fuel to her fire, before. With him gone these past few years, her blaze was smothered, kept under lock and key. His was a voice she could never forget, never grow unfamiliar with, and hearing it across the breeze summoned her slumbering self to life. Unlock.

Those golden eyes were wide, her stare disturbing and twisted with lips so contorted she seemed a different being from only thirty seconds prior. Muscles itched, burned, needed to move or else the heat would eat them raw. They snapped into place as she hauled herself to her paws, only then to freeze and strain in place. That beast, that scarred and mangled shadow of her lover, her other half, the life in her wildfire heart. Ebbing echoes in her empty heart panged and throbbed at the sight of him. Overwhelmed by the sudden heat.

Rarely could a dampened kindle accept a spark so quick.

But theirs was a frenzy.

And then she saw. The hollowed-out bitch watched in confusion, in hurt, in aggravation as her beast snarled. His wretched form was a skeletal memory of the savage partner she’d treasured, hoarded, kept to herself. A growl of her own simmered deep in her throat. Its reason?

…

”WHO ARE YOU?”

Words sliced, wielding damage she’d never felt before. Everything around the two, set apart by several yards, was nothing but blackened fuzz at the edge of her peripheries. Everything around the two was unimportant, pathetic. Her legs, taut with strain and fury, creaked into motion as she briskly strode up with deliberate, arrogant steps. A haughtiness with which she fought to step back into, to return to from retirement. Fangs were bared, refusing to show this brute any fear. Because she had nothing to fear.

She was his.
He was hers.

”Quartermaster,” she spat, slowly, with a lulled tone, as she came to approach him. Not once did her gaze leave his. She commanded his attention. Rita commanded it. ”Is that any way to speak to your Captain?” It’d hurt. She could feel it, could feel his pain, whatever it was. Unseen, controlling, cruel.

But Rita’d never had time for being controlled. She’d be damned before allowing it to claim Shark.

Shark - Shark - October 26, 2017

It moved.  

The creaking and cracking that it made as it stood only made his hackles rise more- what was this thing, this shadow, this abhorrent poltergeist of his warped mind?  Fangs protruded more now, sticking out from scarred lips, drool pooling beneath him as he stared at her - at it.  Pressure in his head began to build as he tried to figure out what he was looking at, eyes narrowing, then widening- before narrowing again.  His mind was waging war within itself, repressing memories, continuing to keep Shark from digging himself out.  So when it approached, when those eyes, those burning eyes glared into his something moved inside.  It was subtle- small, but enough to deter the beast from charging- at least for the moment.  It reminded him of something- someone-  a distant dream.

Or had it been a nightmare.

"Quartermaster-" 

It spat.  Meaningless words, babbling out of it's treacherous mouth.  He inhaled and snarled at the empty words. A threat? 

But still those eyes kept their hold, grounding him to the very spot he stood.  

"Is that any way to speak to your Captain?"

More meaningless words fell from its mouth, words and titles that held no ground, no moral obligation to repress him.  Whatever this was was playing games with him, taunting him, making him relive things he did not want to relive. Everything he had held dear was dead.  Or gone.  They had left him, so they had to be dead.  Especially her.  

She would not have left him without warning. (it spoke to him)

She would not have left him to rot alone in that heap of shit they built together.  (it snarled in the back of his mind)

She would not have left him. (it chanted)

SHE WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT HIM. (It Chanted)

SHE WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT HIM. (IT CHANTED)

"My Captain is DEAD-"  Spittle flew from his jaws as he snarled at this thing, this repulsive, manipulative spectre... This disgusting memory.  The pressure in his head began to build again, pressing against his skull.  His heart rate quickened- tongue rolled out of his mouth as he began to pant, drool fell to the earth.

"You.."







"... are dead.."











"...to me."

RE: these aching bones [shark] - Rita - November 13, 2017

[Image: rita_by_omniwitch-dbtkwct.png]
It had been an attempt. A weak attempt.

No... Rita was never weak. but she is now. No. Not weak. Simply out of touch. The Captain had always been strong, always resilient, but when faced with a foe within her own mind, only the one who knew her mind could help her conquer it. But they had been apart all these years. Her foe eventually waned and she survived, but she was still nothing without him. 

Maybe not nothing... but she was only something when she was with him.

That was why, when his eyes flashed with a fury she knew was reserved for his enemies, when his snarl sprayed saliva, she felt true anguish. She was his Captain. And he her Quartermaster. One with each other, apart in only names. Their twisted souls wrapped around each other, each's fallouts compensated by the other's strengths. A force to be reckoned with, when combined. Wildfire. A blazing rage. She had been nothing without him, a queen with a crooked crown and no kingdom. But what weighed her down was the absence on the throne beside her. Half her self was missing.

Yet here he was. Again. Finally.
Yet here he wasn't...

"My Captain is DEAD!"

Each word stung as its own separate dagger, scorching hot yet cold as ice. Her face twinged, wincing. The damage his words were inflicting was real, truer than any wound she bore. His lips peeled and he bared his fangs - those weapons of war he'd waged with her for countless years against their foes - at her. She knew how she would react, had this been anyone else. She knew how she would have ripped those lips from their jaws, had it been anyone else. How she'd force them to never have a choice in snarling, had it been anyone else.

But this was Shark. Her mate. Herself.

"You..." please, my love "... are dead..." be whole with me, again "... to me."

The last slice of the dagger was too much. Abandoning any sense of caution, the mutt bitch close the gap between the two. Her eyes were sharp, anguished, weeping. But a scowl, contorted and shaking, refused to accompany the stray tears that found themselves on her cheeks. The pirate queen stepped straight up into the quivering mess of a man she knew - knows - as great. She pushes herself against him, head-on, to press his face into her scruff. To wrap her head around his. To breathe him in. Overwhelming emotions crashed down in her head, shattering her resolve so as to make her legs wobble. How long she had waited, longing for her fur pressed against his. To become whole, once again.
She had never imagined it like this, though...

"Breathe, my love" Her voice was low, intense, desperate. Quiet. "Breathe." Please... "I. Am. REAL." She did not leave room for doubt. Not for herself. Not for him. Nor for the demons that plagued her wildfire partner. "i am yours..." she would breathe into his scruff, her voice one that had only ever surfaced during the few times the two had been alone. When they could afford to let their masks slip. "... you are mine." And that will never, ever change.

"what did they do to you...?" she choked out between sobs. Horrible, ugly sobs that were drowned into his ragged, filthy fur, her face buried. A Captain does not show weakness to her empire. But then again, what empire does she have left but her own soul mate?
He was the only one she could afford grief with; she could not hold back.

She was his.
He was hers.
Always.


RE: these aching bones [shark] - Rita - November 13, 2017

[[ dropping this for added effect... ]]

[Image: viddie_by_etkri-d90atrs.png]


Shark - Shark - December 01, 2017

When she moved- he moved with her.

While she aimed to comfort, he aimed for her throat.

While she aimed to try to get him to remember her, he aimed to rip out her eyes so she wouldn't forget him.

But try as he might, he could not get to either of those.  She moved too fast, she was too agile.  So instead of the eyes, or the throat his fangs so jealously sought after they found solace in her shoulder as she slithered under him.  Teeth did not hit bone, nor did they lash back and forth like the feral animal he was.  No.  He was still.  His breaths were heavy, labored as his mouth was full of her fur, of her blood.  The crimson liquid poured out between his teeth now, and he could smell the iron in the air.  The sounds around him were muffled- all he could hear was his heartbeat.  Her heartbeat.  In unison.  Together.  His grip loosened. 

"Breathe my love."

The first wave hit him like a train, crashing into him like a head on collision at 60 miles an hour. 

"Breathe.. I. am.  REAL.."

 He reeled physically, taking a step back, releasing his grip.  He breathing quickened- for a moment the fog cleared and she was there, with free eyes she was there, and for a moment so was he-

"..I am yours.."

- but the moment was fleeting and the fog came back with vengeance.  Shark stumbled, he snarled, and bloody spittle flew about.  The beast shook his head, trying to rid the feeling, the fog, the dense nothingness that struck him.  He struggled, the fog clearing for a second then returning moments later causing him to stumble over himself, towards Rita then away again.  He snarled, and whined and yelped at the torment.  Heart leading him in one direction while plagued mind leading him the other.  Tearing him in two directions. 

".. You are mine.."
"..What did they do to you?"

You are mine, you are mine, YOU ARE MINE.  The words echoed and echoed like words in a canyon reverberating off deep walls,  Until they finally settled, the fog- for the moment being was driven away by the echoes,  the others that were muttered fell off, unimportant.  Sharks eyes cleared, the fire returned the spark rekindled.  He stood for a moment heaving heavy breaths before lifting his head- those fire fueled eyes locking into that of hers.  Hers.  How he missed them. He remembered the last time he saw them- those eyes.  He'd saved them from a fire.  He'd thrown himself to her to save her- to save them oh yes- he remembered.  The constant pain, the undying feeling of fire singing his skin was a constant reminder of his love, of his ever-burning flame for her.  "You are mine.."  He'd repeat, chest heaving.  He remembered.  "I am yours.."  He remembered.  

He took steps towards her- shaking, fury filled steps. Until he reached her- breathing her in once more with a clear mind.

He remembered.

"Always."

Always...

Always..

Always.




He remembered.

RE: these aching bones [shark] - akante - December 01, 2017

scrEECHES

RE: these aching bones [shark] - Rita - December 04, 2017

[Image: me_by_etkri-dbvp99g.png]

She had seen him coming.
Seen those off-white fangs flashing before her eyes. Seeking flesh.

But something was wrong: She did not flinch.

A new fire split through her veins as she felt her own flesh be torn, be greedily latched onto. Any other bastard and she would have whipped about, meeting fang with fang and giving them a sore, brutal lesson in what it meant to attack her. There wasn't another soul alive she would have steadily accepted such an assault from... then again there wasn't another soul alive that was so much a part of her. How... how could she possibly retaliate? How could she possibly deny her partner what was his? She was his... he was hers... always.

The violence was simply a part of the bargain.
A bargain the Pirate Queen would never think of squandering.

And so as his teeth sank into her shoulder, his hot breaths heaving into her fur, into her flesh, she simply buried her face deeper into his scruff. As he drew her blood, she clenched her teeth and choked out wretched sobs. As he shuddered from her voice, from what she could only hope was him returning, she greedily wrapped her foreleg around him. Pulling him in. Holding him close. Finally reunited, with or without blood, she would not lose him again.

She ached. Through his trembling and shaking, through the pain that she felt, that she heard, that she knew. He pulled away, and for a moment Rita choked. No... please don't leave me, love. She watched with golden, anguished eyes as he suffered, his mind tearing him apart from the inside out. Knee-jerk reaction and the bitch practically threw herself forward, hauling herself against her mate, her face pulled in pain. Tears welling. Lips peeled as she fought back the agony. "I'm here, love..." gasped, soft words pressed passionately, desperately into his fur, "I'm here, I'm here, i'm here..." Never forget that. Never forget me. Us. 

He paused.
It was only for a moment.

She pulled back, looking into his eyes and seeing him. The ground suddenly felt like liquid, her chest warm and light and alarmingly tight. She suddenly couldn't hear anything except his panting breaths, each one slowly growing lighter, lighter, lighter. Rita looked into his eyes, seeing them glisten in clarity, seeing them look at her and actually see her. See what they were, together. 

"You are mine..."
"I am yours..."
"I am yours..."
"You are mine..."

She all but eked the words out, her mind unable to decide whether to smother her emotions or let them loose. She'd always kept them in check - a Captain does not let weakness show to her empire. And she'd done her damn best to keep by that. Shark had been the exception. He was always her exception.

"Always..."

Rita would pull herself close to him, against him, as the softest of rains began to drizzle down upon the two. They were alone, entirely alone, but that was all that mattered. No one else mattered. No one else existed. The ex-Captain leaned against her spitfire mate, so close their breathing would sync up as she let her tears flow. Hot and flushed down her cheeks, stifled sobs as she buried her face back into his scruff. Her weight against his. Legs would wobble and unsteadily give way as she'd move to lay down, with him, and curl against him. Forever at his side.

Soft pink tongue flickered out and stroked at his neck, at his ears, at his face. Quick and desperate at first, afraid that perhaps this moment would pass. That reality would come back and erase this fantasy. But as the seconds ticked, they slowed, eased, until they were more careful, more delicate. "My love..." My partner in crime. My other half. "...what happened?" Words were uttered quietly, with caution. It was a dangerous question to ask, and perhaps she hoped that if she asked it softly enough, it would not pose such a risk.

It was, after all, a loaded question.
So much had happened.



ooc: n/a

text speech: #4C7B80
[Image: arkyls_by_etkri-daba13x.png]