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[Razkar]

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Edreina on October 22nd, 2013, 2:30 am

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As promised, Edreina listened all the way through, eyes narrowed as if that would focus her sense of sound as well. She fought with everything she had to keep the drop in her spirit from showing in her features as he revealed his plan to her.

Another journey. Another place. Same search for the same woman. Would it ever come to an end?

Surely, his words should have lifted the weight from her shoulders. But, she found no comfort in his words. Despite what he said, he still wished to seek out a lover long lost. What reason was there behind that? Breathing roughly through her nose, Edreina strode over to Razkar, body stronger than she felt in its motions. Her pale hands marred his chest as they rested upon him, fingers splayed across his musculature.

Her stomach plunged again and she sighed, forming words and guiding them before she allowed them to leave her lips. "Though my heart is bound to you, my body will not follow you to Darva. Despite your claims of love, you still seek Ayatah. Why?" Her eyes dared to flick up towards his, lip trembling despite herself. "Were she alive and her heart still yours, as mine is, she would have sent word to you... I would... No matter the cost, a bird would carry my words to you until my breath failed me. Have you heard even a whisper?"

She was being cruel...

She was being honest.

As a woman of the sea, Edreina knew the allure of whispered treasure. It was a ghost that would always be just one more island away. "When you travel to Darva, you will be faced with two possibilities. On one hand, you will find Ayatah alive and well. Upon seeing her, you will either remember your love for her and I will be but a memory or you will scorn her, hurting yourself in the process. Or... you will not find Ayatah. Any pile of bones would not be hers, any grave would belong to another. You would spend days, seasons scouring that island with the hope of finding her and receiving closure. It would always be just one more step away..." Her fingers busied themselves with tracing his scars. "I will not stand by your side while you madden yourself in search of a ghost or of a woman who does not wish to be found. I will wait, here, for as long as my soul can remain at rest. But, I will not subject myself to the sight of you in such a state..."

"Razkar..." the word came as silent as a prayer, spoken by a woman who feared that the deity of her fate had deserted her. "Razkar you have my heart. I've followed you and faced so much for you. I stand here, willing to take on the rest of the earth with you. You-... You must hear me. Continuing this quest will not end in your happiness, and I fear..." Her voice caught and, unable to contain herself any longer she stepped closer to Razkar, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I fear that if you do not give up I will sit and watch as my soul is drained and my heart ceases to beat."

She had spoken her part and that empty feeling settled over her chest again. He could hate her for her words. He could loathe her for the truth. She worried dully if she had spoken well, had voiced her thoughts without rambling as her mind chased its own tail.
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Razkar on October 23rd, 2013, 12:41 am

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He didn't know what he'd hoped her reaction would be, but in his worst nightmares, it was not the impassioned words of love and devotion she buffeted him with. Screaming, yelling, even tears... he could have tolerated those. He could have suffered them like a whip across his back, and not spoke a word of complaint.

But her rejection as clothed in such tenderness and passion that they just... wore him down. Every word was pregnant with truth, and hard as he tried, he could not find a lie in them.

"When you travel to Darva, you will be faced with two possibilities. On one hand, you will find Ayatah alive and well. Upon seeing her, you will either remember your love for her and I will be but a memory or you will scorn her, hurting yourself in the process. Or... you will not find Ayatah. Any pile of bones would not be hers, any grave would belong to another. You would spend days, seasons scouring that island with the hope of finding her and receiving closure. It would always be just one more step away..."

He blinked with the soft warmth of her palms on his chest, but it was her words that he felt more. Razkar saw himself lost in rolling mists - haggard, wild-eyed, desperate and muttering - scurrying from hillock to hillock, copse to copse, certain, certain that it was this one, the next one, the one after that.

Finding nothing. No-one. No trace or whisper nor sign of passing, as if the Isle of Lost Souls had swallowed a whole life as if it was an insect crushed by an oblivious boot.

"Razkar..."

He wanted to hate her. He knew hate; he breathed it. He could fall into it like a deep sleep or a familiar set of clothes. But looking at her beseeching eyes, he saw only a fierce desperation for him to turn away from a path with no end that took him far from her, and by simple distance and the gentle grinding of time, would destroy their bond.

"Razkar you have my heart. I've followed you and faced so much for you. I stand here, willing to take on the rest of the earth with you. You-... You must hear me. Continuing this quest will not end in your happiness, and I fear..."

She shrunk against him, fiery hair dull and mournful by the single candle, as if it was reflecting her own pain. Razkar's hands twitched, aching to embrace her... but he did not. Could not, until she was done, and the final nail was hammered into him.

"I fear that if you do not give up I will sit and watch as my soul is drained and my heart ceases to beat."

Silence. Enough to hear the drunks totter home and serenade hissing cats and jeering street rabble. Long enough that he could hear bells from the harbor clanged and called from the black and murky waters. Razkar stared down at the top of her head and felt her slight shoulder bob, as if she was silently crying...

He wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear.

He wished the answers were simple.

"Edreina... I must know."

Razkar wished, in the moment and perhaps never again, that he was anyone but whom he was... because for all her love and loyalty to him, nothing had changed. She looked up briefly and found his eyes staring at her with a sad, grim determination. His knuckles stroked her cheek and his jaw tightened as if loosening it even a fraction would set his lips trembling, and he would show no weakness before her now.

"I will go to the Isle of Darva. I will look for her. Whether it is a body I find, the girl I knew, or nothing at all, at least I will know. I have to know."

Tinnok bore herself into his mind, unbidden and undeniable, a wound that would never truly heal. The words of that damned message she sent him were burned into his mind, scribbled in such haste, as if they were written and loosed on the wing with the author already in full flight.

She is lost to the jungle now. Some nameless sin or injustice you could not and cannot protect her from.

"... I cannot abandon her." His voice was harsh and forced through gritted teeth as if he was in pain, eyes boring down into her with a wildness that masked his fear. "I have... I have lose too much of... of where I came from." The glimmer, the suggestion of a smile quirked on his lips as he stroked her lips, just for an instant. "Gained much, too. But this... not knowing. This fear of the dark I do now know. I can't abandon her to that. I can never return as a Child of Myri if I do."

Razkar slumped, defeated and spent though his words were sparse. Goddess, how he loved this female... but how could she understand his kind? Truly understand? Her kind were so flighty and ethereal; they drifted on the tides and spread to every corner of the ocean, and even parents and kin did not worry overmuch for their sons and siblings. They were... trusted. Or perhaps the world was trusted.

Not so the Children of Myri, he thought, in a voice not his own that hardened his own heart as he looked down at her, for we know the world is a harsh and cruel place.

Suddenly he was moving, walking to their bedside where their few belongings not in storage at the warehouse were haphazardly strewn. He spoke as he arranged them neatly, sorting his possessions from her... not letting her see his hand tremble as he coldly separated himself from her.

"I ask you to come with me. Know that if my search is fruitless... then so be it. I will not waste another lifetime on that which is lost. But I will go, and I will search... and then..."

Then? Then what? One future neatly parceled up, but the problem with the future was that there was always more of it. Unplanned and unexpected and eternally patient. All it had to do was wait for you to arrive, because no matter how much you dawdled or evaded or anticipated, it was always there.

So will she. If only for a while... she loves you that much.

"Please..."

She had never heard that tone in his voice. Perhaps some final slender shred of male dignity prevented him from asking to her face; instead he presented her only with his back, like a coward, eyes closed as his words were whispered.

"Come with me. I will need a sailor, after all..."

He would have smiled, or laughed; let his lips curl in that savage show of amusement that she loved so much. But Razkar had no such energy in that room in Zeltiva. He wanted only her answer, for good or ill... and then the future could take them both.
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Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Edreina on October 24th, 2013, 9:20 pm

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Surprising both of them, Edreina shoved Razkar away from her. Her heart surged into her throat, but she would not reconcile, would not apologize for her actions. Fists trembling, she strode over to the window. With monumental effort, she managed to uncurl her fists and placed her fingertips upon the time-warped panes. As her blood burned and boiled, the smooth glass was chilled by the rain pattering against it. Makutsi's song and cleansing breath were but a whisper in the small room, the thunder that clapped-

No... That was just her heart in her ears, thudding and crashing like the divine light above. How dare he... she thought, chin trembling as she fought the tears that clogged her throat. How dare he mention his loss when I've given up so much for him. Doesn't he see? Doesn't he see how much I'm still willing to lose? All for him... All upon the hope that one day I would be enough. Her hand fisted against the glass once again, lips setting in a hard line. Silly-stupid girl! You always knew. You always knew that you would not be enough to overshadow his past and the woman the filled it.

A cruel, cynical smile - unlike any that had graced the Svefra's lips - contorted her freckled features. He claimed to love her and yet he would not stop chasing a spectre, hoping she would gain physical form. He said he wished to lay their line to rest, that he had already cast and caught his prize. And yet... Like a sun-maddened fisherman he would destroy himself and - by extension - her in search of the one that got away. Her stomach rolled as she attempted to restrain confused tears. Anger, desperation, and fear clouded her features as she rested her forehead against her fist, breath clouding the glass.

All of his words, his declaration of love, they meant nothing so long as he continued to chase his past. As abruptly as she had pushed him away, she pulled back and rammed her thin fist into the window, yowling as her anger gave way to pain for an instant as the hard glass offered more resistance than wooded wall would have. Stupid girl! She cried again, cradling her fist against her chest as it screamed in indignation. Pain of the mind should not be taken out on the body so!

For a second, the tears escaped and cascaded down her cheeks again, remarking the trails that already painted her face. After a second, she threw her head back, hair flying like a flame beneath a gust. There was a feral, crazed look on her face. All she had done, all she had lost for him and still he insisted on chasing her? By the gods...

"For the first time, I see you as a fool, Razkar." Her voice was cold, detached even as she stared at her feet. "You're going to cross a sea, to an island from which none have returned, just to tell her that you've fallen for another?" She snorted once through her nose, shaking her head to capture her lover in a harsh blue gaze. "Or... perhaps I'm the fool. You would put my life in danger just to sate some need to explain? Is it because you feel guilty?" Her hands trembled again, words coming through tightly clenched teeth. "You need to let. her. go. If she were alive, and cared about you, wouldn't she have left word behind for you? Wouldn't she have somehow gotten word to you since you parted? How do you know that she has not moved on as well? Perhaps seeing your face would be damaging to her, a detriment even. She came to Zeltiva to start a life as a scholar, perhaps she found a new life overall?"

At this point, her heart was racing again, pounding about in an empty chest. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, a tick of procrastination when facing her next words. "If you continue to seek her, Razkar, it will be without me. I've crossed a continent for you, lost my home and my family for you. And yet you still insist upon dragging me in search of a woman from your past? I understand your need to explain, but have you given even a tick of thought to what you're doing to me?" Her voice caught and tears threatened her eyes again. She had not wanted to bring herself into the argument... For so long she had put her feelings aside for his in hopes that once they found Ayatah, things would be better. But now, Edreina realized that Razkar was not searching for a woman but a piece of his past, a point at which his old life and knew intersected. "If you don't love her, as you claim, then you have already done your best and fulfilled your bargain. You promised to meet again in Zeltiva, correct? You've upheld your end. She has not. Whether it be of her own choice or an act of Lhex, it is out of your hands..." Again she hesitated, realizing that this would be the hardest part for him to deal with. "You have to accept that she may be gone, Razkar... And if you don't... I will be..." She wanted so badly to think that was a lie... But, if Razkar had taught her one thing, it was self-preservation.
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Razkar on October 25th, 2013, 2:45 am

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"For the first time, I see you as a fool, Razkar."

The Myrian closed his eyes and felt the pain, but not the anger. Few called him a fool anymore. Fear held them back, he supposed. It was yet another reason he held her so close: she did not fear him. She loved him, and that meant being brutally, utterly honest at all times. He sighed and placed his hands on the table, flanking their little procession of possessions, head bowed as he stinging words washed over him.

She is right... and she is wrong. But that's the problem, isn't it? There's no easy fix to this. No simple solution. All there is... is pain. Just varying degrees of it, and the worst is that you must choose which one scars you.

And her.


"If you continue to seek her, Razkar, it will be without me. I've crossed a continent for you, lost my home and my family for you. And yet you still insist upon dragging me in search of a woman from your past? I understand your need to explain, but have you given even a tick of thought to what you're doing to me?"

"Every day I thank the Goddess for your hand in mine. Your soul walking the world with mine." The words were nothing but truth, and so they perhaps came more easily to him, muttered as they were into the two purses siting side by side, her coral comb and his worn offering bowl. "But..." Now they became harder; truth deceived him yet again, because lies could look so much like it, colored and camouflaged by self-interest and denial. "... but you chose to walk with me. I did not force you."

Even to him the words were hollow and his head twitched as if he'd been stung. Razkar ground his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, not even wanting to imagine the shock and grief on her face at his words. No. No more talking. She had much more to purge in her frustration, and if he owed her anything, it was this chance to speak.

You bought her here with the promise of a resolution; not the beginnings of yet another quest, which you know may be hopeless. What is that if not cruel? Deceitful? For a man who values honesty so highly...

"You have to accept that she may be gone, Razkar... And if you don't... I will be..."

For long moments there was naught but their breath, the steady rote and suck of tired lungs weary from so much talking and talking and nothing gained from it. Razkar's mind was oddly clear; perhaps fear and loss had already left it empty, thoughts scurrying for cover in the face of Edreina's wrath.

But one still-small voice just would not shut up... and with eyes that would have wept if he had been another man, Razkar turned to her. His voice was harsh as sand paper, each word smooth but in the way a condemned man's was. Resigned to his fate.

"You still do not understand, Edri. This is not about guilt, or buried love, or desperate hope. She is a Child of Myri. She is lost in the world. Before she was my lover she was as much a sister as the four I still have in the jungle, and I would slaughter nations for any of them."

He waited for the shock to leave her face, realizing in a disconcertingly clinical way that it was probably not the best example to cite. However, Myrians have a very pragmatic and... somewhat idiosyncratic attitude towards sacrifice, and thus that age-old expression.

You can only die for a person once, and then you're no use to them but as possible rations. But you can kill for them over and over again, until there's nothing left to harm them.

Razkar blinked and he almost snarled at his own wandering mind. Now, of all times! He stepped forward and shadow marred half of his face, sideways to the candle, one side in harsh relief, the other insubstantial and hidden as a cave's crevice.

"I cannot leave her to ignorance." Now his voice had that pleading edge he so despised, and with that simple crack the whole facade of his stoic mentality began to collapse. "If I knew where she was, if she was... that would be enough. But... But this... not knowing. It cannot stand."

He drew himself up and took another step, his fill height by now apparent to the smaller Svefra, the muscled and leather-like texture of his skin, living testament to a life of unflinching devotion.

"One day..." he continued, voice a whisper, "I will return home. I will pas through the jungles my kin, clan and people have haunted for the lifetimes of the gods. I will walk along the path of the Scattered Bones, the clan of Ayatah..."

Razkar's eyes glazed, misery and guilt and the burning, crippling shame that he had yet to have heaped upon him already crushing him down so that he seemed to crunch and bend before her.

He could not be other than he was.

"... what will I say to them, Edri? When they ask of their daughter? That I knew where she sailed but did not follow? That I could have known, could have bought solace to their grief but did not? That I... I..."

That I put the life and happiness of a barbarian before hers? That I let myself love another and, worst of all, am happier than I ever was with Ayatah, first though she was, bright as she burned?

Even now, at the end, you cannot say it.


The blue of her eyes was still the azure of an ocean, but it was not the gentle, coaxing ripples of a midday beach they resembled now. Instead they were the turgid and implacable swells that ground towering cliffs to dust and brewed hurricanes and storms that even the most eldritch of mages could not conjure. Razkar's lip quirked. He taught her that; the will and coldness to put yourself above all, to-

You taught her, but now she is as immovable as you. She has her fears and her plans with you; she loves you and does not want more seasons or years stolen from the happiness you both share.

But you have your duty. Your honor. And though it is but a flawed, hollow and selfish thing to her...


"Edri..."

The world turned faster than he was used to. All possible futures and broken pasts stretched and strained around him and finally the Myrian let his body collapse backward onto the bed. Their bed. He sat on the mattress, hands limp in his lap and head bowed, not even the strength to put them on his weary head.

"I have to know..."

But you do know. The Honored Elder told you where she went, and what her fate probably was.

But I do not know!


He was so still under her eyes, though she knew much could take place beyond those glassy black eyes. Razkar stared at the floor and two warring voices both fought with quarter. One championing a love lost before and lost again, tinged with uncertainty and perhaps his own death... another brimming with promise and betrayal of his new love. Not a replacement, but simply... the one his path had led him to.

Razkar's head fell back and with closed eyes he stared to the ceiling and the black, blind sky beyond it, gushing down over them and roaring on the tiled roof. He wished for solace; for knowledge; for some answer... some hope or closure to this pain...

"She is... gone..."

You do not know. You only fear.

The words were repeated again, in a tone she had never heard from him before. Not just broken, or wounded, or saddened. Not even choked with grief and sorrowed rage at a cold world.

Lost. Lost in the face of the objective truth his subjective mind rebelled against. A hand covered his face and he sighed like one far older, who had seen so much more pain. A sniff. Not tears, nor weeping. The merest whisper of despair...

But that was enough.

"She is gone.."
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Edreina on October 25th, 2013, 4:35 am

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As he sat, Edreina realized that something had changed. Something... something in the room had shifted. As his head fell back, Edreina was reminded of a painting she had seen years ago, of a man who had lost all that he held dear. In that instant, she finally understood the depth of what it meant for him to realize that Ayatah was gone. A life he had once known naught but had slipped through his fingers only to be replaced by water, a substance entirely foreign and fearsome to him.

He should have known... Edreina thought numbly, fingers trembling at his side as she wished to step forward and comfort him. He should have known that the world outside of what we know... it changes us... it changes what we know and how we feel. He should have known... But had she known? Every time she set sail, she came back a different person. So, to some degree, she knew of the effect of the unknown. But to be exposed to a world so starkly contrasting all that one knew? It could reweave the tapestry of a person's being entirely.

So deep was her need to comfort the warrior, Edreina was not entirely aware of having crossed the room, nor of kneeling between his legs and taking his free hand in both of hers. Despite the pain that clenched her gut and threatened a sickness the sea would never bring, he needed her. He would likely never admit it... Hells, she may even have been wrong. But, she could only do what she thought to be right. "The world is a dangerous place... She knew that when she left the land she knew... And then, she dared to think she could be the first to traverse the realm of Laviku without paying the price. Some things in the world are meant to remain a secret... You cannot blame yourself..." She sighed, bringing his hand up to rest against the side of her face, eyes beseeching his. She needed to see that the fissure did not run too deep.

Grief was one of the many things with which Edreina did not deal well. Losses among the Svefra were seen as commonplace, as were shifting love-alliances. For as far as either of them knew, Ayatah was alive and well somewhere, too happy in her new life to consider her old. Unsurely, her mouth started to move before her mind thought to censor the content of her words. "Don't think so harshly. The lack of knowledge you bear concerning her wandering will likely be overshadowed by the fact that you will return with a weak outsider..." She trailed off, realizing the folly of her words. Stupid woman... she thought for the thousandth time. Their joined hands were brought to her forehead as she hid her face, attempting to find a way to be what he needed her to be.

And then, she realized that he needed no one other than her. "I am here for you, Razkar..." she sighed, running her nose along his thumb before looking up at him again. Her voice caught for an instant, but finally, a sentiment long overdue left her lips, cutting away any even remote chance she had of maintaining any sort of control, of keeping herself separated from him and their fates from being tangled. "Razkar... I- I love you. I'm here for you however you need me to be... I'm-... I'm so sorry this has happened." The Svefra stopped herself upon the precipice of rambling, an instant before her words would have overflowed and become a senseless jumble.
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Razkar on October 28th, 2013, 3:05 am

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It was the speaking that broke the spell, of that he was sure. Like slow poison or the most maddened, stubborn resolve, Razkar had kept Ayatah alive for well over a year without a word, a message, a whisper or a hint that their mutual promise would be fulfilled.

Now, without asking his permission, the world crept in between the crashing raindrops, and changed everything. All it took was those three words. That final admission. For long chimes the weary Myrian, lean and angular body looking gaunt and emaciated now in his grief, stared sightless into the darkness beyond the window. Rain hammered against the rude glass, begging entry, and in their countless small entreats he lost himself...

She is gone. She is lost. You... knew. Now you know.

There could be hope, there is no certainty-

No, there is not. There is only the will of the gods and the odds the world gives you. Ayatah journeyed to an island where none return from. Two seasons have gone by, and her ship has not come back.

Why do you think that is?


The Svefra's words washed over him but they were like surface swells and he was scrabbling at the bedrock of the ocean. He heard them, indistinct and plaintive... but some parts of her coaxing condolences shone through clear-

"You cannot blame yourself..."

He blinked and then the warmth of her cheek seemed to drag him from the depths. His eyes focused on hers like an old man's, returning from one of those unscheduled journey's into his own mind and then finding a visitor in the waking world. Razkar's hand flexed as it touched her cheek and that simple contact... anchored him.

There is past... and there is present. Do not forget the past, and learn from it-

"... so the present may be clear to you... and the future not weighed by history's shadows..."

The Svefra blinked back her surprise and a worrying smile alighted the Myrian's face. Perhaps she thought that he took her words about a "weak outsider" as a joke... and maybe it was. The smile went from weary to warm to confused in a handful of heartbeats, as if Razkar couldn't be bothered to regulate even his emotions anymore. His words were low and calm, that eerie, groundless tone of those not truly in the world.

"Something... she read to me. Long ago..."

She said she was here for him and Razkar's mind had already started to filter her out. What was that book called? She'd shown it to him in her longhouse, just outside Taloba. It was broad and worn, a priceless trophy from an Isurian caravan that skirted too close to their lands. Ayatah, ever bookish, had claimed it rather than burn it with the rest. She'd sat under the golden sun that matched her skin, read it to him with her-

"Razkar... I- I love you. I'm here for you however you need me to be... I'm-... I'm so sorry this has happened."

The Myrian's heart dragged his mind back from the dark and into the faint light of their pokey little room in Zeltiva. He could not, would not let himself succumb to the regret and melancholy of those he'd known back home who had lost mates. Myrians on the whole didn't have much of a problem with dying; they all knew they would be reborn as Children of Myri, over and over unto the ending of the world... but loss... grief...

"Yes... you are... and you do..."

As the first three words warped and twisted and set in stone the cruel reality around him, the last ones seemed to carve a fresh path from Razkar. He did not know if Ayatah would one day return, or if she was lost to the Isle of Lost Souls. But he would not waste anymore of his life facing a ghost; not when he had a living, vital female before him who loved him and had shown more loyalty to him than the noblest of canines.

Razkar sighed and pressed his forehead to hers, hands cupping her cheeks, naught but their breathing and the pounding rain interrupting them. All the usual sounds of chaotic Zeltiva at night had been driven away by the ocean dumped above them. Rain lashed and chased away the scum from the streets and distant thunder growled and shook the very peaks surrounding them, lit by blink-fast shards of lightning that stabbed at the sea at land without distinction.

Chaos. Bedlam. The gods waging war with their peon worshipers far below... but Razkar needed them not that night. His gnosis purred softly, comforting him, it seemed... as did the blue eyes that met his own when he opened them.

"I stay." He said, with his usually atrocious accent, gaining strength on strength when her teeth flashed against freckled skin. "We stay together... we will ask of Ayatah at the Docks, and find... something for us in these strange lands. But that... that part of my life..."

He shook his head and kissed her softly.

"Past is past. Only the dead live there... and you are alive, my love..."
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Edreina on October 30th, 2013, 10:29 pm

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As bad as his accent may have been, the words beneath the growling attempt at a lilt were ones that seemed to give some strength back to the beat of Edreina's heart. When he kissed her, it took a tick for her to stop grinning like a fool and reciprocate.

"My love..." she whispered, smiling again at the feeling of the words dancing across her lips. Just for good measure, the Svefra kissed him again. Tides turned and as stressful as this entire affair had been, it was now behind her, behind them. It was both a positive and negative about Edreina, her ability to move on from a situation with as much ease as one would step across a threshold. Her fingers, left his hands and fell to rest lightly upon his cheeks, thumbs skimming over his regal cheekbones.

"That's what I am... hm? Your love... Just as you are mine." The concept was, to a Svefra, entirely foreign. Her people took partners and lovers as often as they pleased, sometimes choosing more than one at a time. But, with Razkar, something felt different. Essentially, it should have felt wrong, like a net slowly edging closer and closer until one day she would be entirely entangled and unable to escape. But, the naive young woman reveled in the foreign feeling. Her grin lit the room as she leaned in to kiss him once again, holding him there for a handful of ticks, lips motionless against his, simply affirming that he was there, and he was not going anywhere. Yours and mine meant little to a Svefra, the concept of ownership itself was as strange as the concept of two people being together for their lives.

And yet, in that instant, the two ideas were meeting in Edreina's mind for the first time and she did not shirk from them, did not feel the urge to run to the Ocean and never return. She wanted to belong to Razkar, and only to Razkar... And she wanted the same for him. The thought of any other woman laying even her gaze upon the Myrian was enough to make a gentle growl tug at her full lips.

With a groan, Edreina disengaged and fell onto the bed beside Razkar, stretching out to work the soreness from her muscles. Worrying over one's destiny led to so much tension in the muscles. A quick exhale through her nose signaled her realization that, with their business complete, they would likely be moving on. "So... where to next, master?" The question was punctuated with a grin as she reverted to their old manner, turning on the bed so that she could peer up at her lover. "Shall the wind be our guide or the waves?"

Please let him say waves. Please let him say waves. Please let him say waves!
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Razkar on November 1st, 2013, 3:04 am

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Wearied and spent, the Myrian laid out next to the Svefra, lithe and catlike in her stretching. Gods... he just felt so... drained. Hollow. Even the scratch of the cheap sheets were like Cheva's own caresses to his exhausted form... and she had yet to let him be.

"So... where to next, master?"

Razkar groaned. It would have been so easier to just be frustrated by her. Growl and grouse that she should let it lie and allow him to just drift away... but still, she could raise a smile on his face.

Damn. Must be hypnotism.

Oh, if only it was so. He rolled his head to one side and saw the Cheshire grin that just fed his own and damn-it-all, why could he never get angry at that? She turned to face him and both of them lay huddled like that on their threadbare bed in their cheap room, backed away from a precipice and just smiling stupidly at each other.

"A question for tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Shall the wind be our guide or the waves?"

The hope radiating off her made him tired all over again, and lifted his head from the pillow nonetheless. Too long she has been denied the womb of her ocean, he thought, melancholy dispelled for the moment by her words. He bent in to kiss her, deeply but softly, a reminder and renewal of the future he saw in her... and the hope she gave him.

Then he frowned. Wait a tick...

"Aren't both used on boats?"

The pillow flailed at his head and even the Mighty Warrior was too slow to block it, tired and still chuckling madly. The wind roared and the thunderclouds crouched over the city like some formless black beast, but Razkar ignored it. He caught her second strike at the wrist and she was swiftly disarmed... with a kiss, no less.

"Waves!" He managed to gasp, sliding his body closer to hers, granting them both the warmth they'd need for the coming night. "Now, please... chipmunk must sleep..."

Grab both her arms before you say it. Smart boy...
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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Words: 2242619
Joined roleplay: October 8th, 2012, 12:04 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Myrian
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Medals: 9
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Edreina on November 1st, 2013, 3:48 am

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"Both are used on boats!" A pale hand slithered across the bed, fingers searching for a weapon of some sort. It took all of her strength to keep a victorious look from her eyes as they closed upon the edge of a pillow. "But you know damn well what I meant!" The growled words left her lips just as she whipped the pillow around and slammed it squarely into his face. It was jerked back to her side before he could snatch it from her. But, the first impact was not enough to sate her rekindled spirit. With a laugh, she rolled partially and swung the pillow again, pleased with her ability to land a blow upon the warrior for once.

But, it was not to last. Her first blow had been lucky, so there was only mild surprise in her features when her wrist was caught and the pillow torn from her grasp. Any complaint of being robbed of weapon was smothered by another deep, burning kiss. Her lips still tingled from the first.

When he broke away to speak, she could not help but break into a wide, grateful grin at the words that escaped his lips. "And where is it that the waves will carry us?" Though he still had hold of her wrist, she grabbed the edge of the blanket with her free hand and rolled atop the Myrian, crossing her arms over his broad chest and using them to support her chin. Just as she was leaning in to kiss him again, he made a silly suggestion ended with an insult. Her face reddened for a myriad of reasons at the memory of their first hunting trip together.

"Sleep..." she mumbled thoughtfully, running her thumb over her lower lip, "is for the weak and the loveless." A coy smile played at her lips. "I don't believe that we are either... So..." her legs fell on either side of his hips, granting him a new source of warmth. The day had been long enough and, frankly, she had slept more than needed. All she wanted in that moment was to romp with a man she could truly consider to be hers and only hers.
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In A Phrase to Cut These Lips

Postby Taylani on November 23rd, 2013, 5:33 pm

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XP Award!


Edreina:

XP Award:
  • +1 planning
  • +3 socialization
  • +2 rhetoric

Lore:
  • Razakar: Killed for him.
  • The journey’s nearing a possible end.
  • Unwilling to roll over for someone else’s happiness
  • Warring emotions even the Suvan cannot calm
  • Razkar: Anchor to life away from Suvan

Notes: These are comments.




Razkar:

XP Award:
  • +2 investigation
  • +2 Interrogation
  • +1 intimidation
  • +1 Planning
  • +2 Rhetoric

Lore:
  • Racing toward one moment in time
  • Edreina: Needed to be protected, now even from him.
  • Ayatah: Departed to the Isle of Darva
  • Isle of Darva: Unexplored
  • Only the dead live in the past.
Notes: These are comments.


Comments :
Feel free to pm me with any thoughts about your grades. Don’t forget to edit/delete your grade request.

TAYLANI
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