She couldn’t escape. All of Sanria’s limbs had withered while in
stasis – her legs and arms were so thin they could scarce support her
weight, and even that was dangerously low. “Please… make it stop… Make
it stop!” In her mind, flashes of Visha’s ship combined with flashes of
her own ship and flicked back in time to flashes of her own ship. None
of it made any sense – only that this certainly had to mean danger.
Throm carried her into his ship amidst her protests. She tried
to chant herself into believing it would all be alright – but it was
barely working. Panic sat at the edges of her mind, toying with the
threads of her sanity. Amidst Throm’s questioning – his face became
mixed with so many from her past. She couldn’t keep any of it straight…
he was Throm, then Tarran, then Colin, then Visha, then Thasmudyan,
then Havok, then Sandorin…
“What is this dimension of which you speak?” Throm and his voice cut into her mind’s dissimulation.
“No. No. I won't tell you. I won't have anyone go there. I
won't. You'll die. If you don't have Colin... or Visha...” And it was
true, without a guide, Throm would be as good as lost.
They both argued until Sanria could take no more. There was no
further discussion as Throm led Sanria to the bathing hall and the
healer on the ship. Throm excused himself as Sanria dropped her robes
to the floor. She had no shame, no cares of how she might appear. In
the water she watched the turbulent bubbles as the healer looked her
over in absolute silence. In her mind, Sanria was here, then in the
Illuminati clan Jacuzzi, then home in her tub, then here again…
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:Havok. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:Havok. Sort by date Show all posts
A new Chapter
Another chapter closes, what a shame it had to end this way. Kyarn, my brother my blood my kin, I wish you the best and all the luck. Vandalandius, keep on pimping. Havok, king dragon, my ego was as great as yours, unfortunately, it was more fragile. I'm dead, I'm gone I'll see you all later. Alsin Fairfax the self proclaimed - Goblin Ruler, Pyker child, Syndicate Crimelord, Criminal Mastermind, Sexual God, and that bastard you hated but always loved. Peace the FuCk OuT!!
Current Character Description - Havok Atherton
Black hair accented by a few strands of gray falls to just above the shoulders of a averagely built human before you. A faint beard,no more than just a few days old slightly obscures his jaw line, making it hard to determine how old this man is. Cyan robes adorned with gold trim flow down to his feet, tied around the waist by a belt holding several item laden bags. The robes bulge slightly around his chest and shoulders showing the faint outlines of light armor underneath. On his left shoulder is pinned a replica of several small coins while the right carries a small dragon made of sapphires.
A Fistful of Memories
17 years.
Truly... 17 years.
Sanria stared at the wood grain of the kitchen table, wondering where time had gone. It had effectively swallowed her up, chewed her into pulp with exquisite masticating movements, spat her onto the ground, and left her with children and a brother... but no husband.
Tarran had grown into a strapping, handsome, and clever young man. She had watched him from boyhood growing into a man that would have made Havok proud. He could swindle a deal (evidenced by the many times he was able to get whatever he wanted from Emalia), and wield a sword. Sanria could see much of Havok in him, and she hung her head.
Sighing she pushed up from the table. It was finally a moment of clarity for her. One of so few that she had anymore. 'Too bad Sandorin isn't here," she thought. She thought of Emalia, who Sanria knew was nearby in the observatory. Sweet Emalia who never knew her father only for what she was, his contribution to her life, and stories that Sanria spilled over and over again. Undoubtedly, Emalia would be sitting in the marble throne, humming in tune with the crystals, and looking out over the land. Truthfully, Sandorin had raised her more than Sanria. Poor child of an unfit mother.
17 years.
“Oh Thasmudyan. My life and soul for yours... my life and soul for yours.” Sanria trailed off and headed to the library. The ancient floor was now showing the beginnings of a groove - a circular track worn by Sanria's feet. She could already feel the other world calling her - the chaos that filled her mind and caused her to go 'crazy'. As she began to step into the room, she heard the voice that sounded like the tinkling of tiny bells.
"Mother?" Emalia tapped her shoulder lightly, and when Sanria turned to her, she could see the look of joy on her daughter's face.
"It's you now."
"Yes my little love. It is me, for now."
"I've missed talking to you, you know."
"Sweet dear, I've missed so much. Each time I come out of my stupor, you've turned into more of a woman."
"Oh. Mother. I... well, Tarran said to give his love if you were yourself."
"My little boy... oh tell me if he's well..."
"He is. He misses you, too."
Sanria paused for a moment, staring down at the ground. She had missed so much of her son's life, and truly, she had harbored deep pain for causing him the loss of two "Oh Emalia... if only you knew what it was like. If only you could have seen your father, too. A beautiful man, kind, gentle, and full of such a light... and the energy..."
"Oh mother... please," Emalia pleaded, her hands gripped Sanria's arm a little tighter as her eyes filled up with tears. "Please don't go again..." her voice trailed off into a whisper. "He had so much energy. They never found his head. They never found it." Sanria pulled from her daughter, her eyes glazed over once more. She entered the library, wringing her hands as she walked in her circle, talking to herself again. "If I wouldn't have walked that way, he would have never gone for me. They would never have found him. He would be here with me, protecting me, loving me, loving me. But I don't deserve that. No no no. I don't..."
Emalia hung her head and a single tear slid down her cheek. She then shook her head and sighed, walking to the kitchen to make tea and wait for her uncle to come home.
Truly... 17 years.
Sanria stared at the wood grain of the kitchen table, wondering where time had gone. It had effectively swallowed her up, chewed her into pulp with exquisite masticating movements, spat her onto the ground, and left her with children and a brother... but no husband.
Tarran had grown into a strapping, handsome, and clever young man. She had watched him from boyhood growing into a man that would have made Havok proud. He could swindle a deal (evidenced by the many times he was able to get whatever he wanted from Emalia), and wield a sword. Sanria could see much of Havok in him, and she hung her head.
Sighing she pushed up from the table. It was finally a moment of clarity for her. One of so few that she had anymore. 'Too bad Sandorin isn't here," she thought. She thought of Emalia, who Sanria knew was nearby in the observatory. Sweet Emalia who never knew her father only for what she was, his contribution to her life, and stories that Sanria spilled over and over again. Undoubtedly, Emalia would be sitting in the marble throne, humming in tune with the crystals, and looking out over the land. Truthfully, Sandorin had raised her more than Sanria. Poor child of an unfit mother.
17 years.
“Oh Thasmudyan. My life and soul for yours... my life and soul for yours.” Sanria trailed off and headed to the library. The ancient floor was now showing the beginnings of a groove - a circular track worn by Sanria's feet. She could already feel the other world calling her - the chaos that filled her mind and caused her to go 'crazy'. As she began to step into the room, she heard the voice that sounded like the tinkling of tiny bells.
"Mother?" Emalia tapped her shoulder lightly, and when Sanria turned to her, she could see the look of joy on her daughter's face.
"It's you now."
"Yes my little love. It is me, for now."
"I've missed talking to you, you know."
"Sweet dear, I've missed so much. Each time I come out of my stupor, you've turned into more of a woman."
"Oh. Mother. I... well, Tarran said to give his love if you were yourself."
"My little boy... oh tell me if he's well..."
"He is. He misses you, too."
Sanria paused for a moment, staring down at the ground. She had missed so much of her son's life, and truly, she had harbored deep pain for causing him the loss of two "Oh Emalia... if only you knew what it was like. If only you could have seen your father, too. A beautiful man, kind, gentle, and full of such a light... and the energy..."
"Oh mother... please," Emalia pleaded, her hands gripped Sanria's arm a little tighter as her eyes filled up with tears. "Please don't go again..." her voice trailed off into a whisper. "He had so much energy. They never found his head. They never found it." Sanria pulled from her daughter, her eyes glazed over once more. She entered the library, wringing her hands as she walked in her circle, talking to herself again. "If I wouldn't have walked that way, he would have never gone for me. They would never have found him. He would be here with me, protecting me, loving me, loving me. But I don't deserve that. No no no. I don't..."
Emalia hung her head and a single tear slid down her cheek. She then shook her head and sighed, walking to the kitchen to make tea and wait for her uncle to come home.
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