forum Ever Searching (1-1, Closed, Mature)

Started September 14, 2022 by @Serpentess health_and_safety language

tune

Valiel shrugged. "I mean, if you don't want to know, I won't tell you." She smiled and proceeded to rapidly shift a bunch again, her form morphing without even settling on any one thing for very long. "But I'd be curious if I met a creature that could do this." She returned to human and shot him a wry smile.
"I'm a Skin-changer, from the Hinterlands in the north. I ran for an easier life, I've got no friends or family, and that's what leads me to being on my own in these lands. Just been wandering for the last year, slowly making my way south, where it's warmer."
That was kinda her whole story, without all the sad bits where she'd had to fight and kill to live. Those weren't really nice to share.

De’Tearion paused at her words, acting like he was preparing to insist on her explanation. He then calmed when she smiled. Her morphing mesmerized him like before, reminding him again of the ritual dances of his home. Without realizing it, he approached her, stopping closer to her than they were previously.

“Indeed. Quite curious,”he replied softly, chuckling. He then lowered his height to match hers, his feet almost flat on the ground. It was strange to see her as a human instead of an animal, but his head was clearer now than after the troll attack, and he was far fonder of humans than his own species.

He listened closely, intrigued by her tale. It also eased the wariness he felt about her. To know that her tale was similar to his own, that she understood hardship and loneliness was such a relief.

“I, too, seek an easier life, yet I have yet to find a way to keep such a thing. And, I once knew a dear ally, a youth I considered like a son. When I fled the Island, I left him. For the second time, I abandoned him. I doubt he followed me this time though. He be the only one I have left that might still think of me fondly. All others are either dead or… despise me,”he explained, his head lowering as he spoke. A few strands of hair moved to hang in front of his face, as if to hide it. Tears welled in his eyes as he finished talking.

Valiel smiled up at him, trying to set him at ease. Though it was much easier when he stood down on her level. She smoothed her auburn hair back out of her face as she talked to him, so he could identify her facial expressions easier.
He was attentive, and the story he told of his own journey was sad. Valiel made a sympathetic face, and reached out to smooth his hair out of his face. She wasn't sure what to say… Because what do you say to something like that?
"I know what it is to be turned out from among your own…" she ventured, slowly, quietly. "And you needn't fear that from me, so long as we keep getting along." Her smile softened a bit, to something more reassuring.

De’Tearion watched her curiously, seeming almost fascinated by every movement she made. The auburn hue of her hair complemented the rest of her quite well.

When she smoothed his hair, he flinched. It had been a long time since someone had touched him, particularly with kind intentions. And, the last person who’d done such was the woman he had loved, and she hated him now.

“‘Turned out’. Such a simple phrase to describe the misery that be my life. And, such soothing words, hiding a threat to abandon me if my thirst for blood takes hold. How quaint,”he mused, a wild gleam coming into his eyes.

There was something off about his eyes, though. More than just the bestial gaze. That ‘beast’ was hiding something, sheltering it from Valiel’s view. It was quite difficult to see beyond that wild wall, however, his hands shook heavily and tears were still in his eyes, more so now than before, it seemed.

Valiel gave him a sympathetic look when he flinched from her touch, and withdrew her hand, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
She did not, however, continue the sympathetic look when he tried to make her feel bad for wanting to live. "Inherent in any friendship is the idea that it will end if you try to kill and eat me. It's not a threat, it's a statement of decency, and one your honor should handle with ease." She looked him straight in his watery eyes. He was clearly hiding things, trying to keep part of himself back, but it wasn't her responsibility to pry those things loose. She wasn't going to be made to feel like the bad guy for simply saying 'Things will be fine as long as you don't try to eat me again.'
If he couldn't handle that, then he really was an honorless beast.

De’Tearion noticed her look, appreciating the gentleness of it. When she retracted her hand though, he almost panicked. He snatched her hand with one of his, firmly but gently, like her hand was glass and he didn’t want to break it.

He wrapped his hands around hers, cradling it, needing the connection. It was all he’d had in a while.

He stiffened at her words, the wild gleam in his eyes cracking. He turned away, but not before a glimpse of terror shown in his dazzling orbs.

“I understand. I understand, truly. Yet, you misinterpret me, Valiel. I… I meant not to threaten you just now, or manipulate your emotions. ‘Tis… I… I hate being alone. And, I… ‘Tis my nature to fight, even when I only wish to flee,”he breathed.

Valiel wasn't expecting him to grab at her, and she stiffened briefly, before she realized he was just looking for contact.
He wrapped his hands around hers, and she gave him the other one, laying it over top of his hands. The poor creature was clearly touch-starved.
She didn't let go of him when he turned from her, though his words didn't totally reassure her.
"I understand that… you just need to work on how you sound." She said quietly. He had sounded like he was threatening, but she believed what he said.
"Now. You didn't eat as much as I thought you would." She moved to change the subject, wanting to get his mind on other things. "Are you still hungry?"

De’Tearion wrapped his long fingers around her second hand, grateful for her kindness.

At her words, he nodded shakily. Though, he didn’t have much hope that he would succeed. Too long, has he been isolated. And, too long, has he wandered aimlessly, seeking a purpose that could never found. What remained of his self control had fast started to fade after Mileena cast him away, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“I will likely need help with that. There are times when I have the greatest control of my mannerisms, and other times where I understand not what I mean at all. The maelstrom of my mind be confusing, at best,”he replied, his voice barely audible.

De’Tearion tensed the moment she mentioned food. He hesitated a moment, then sighed.

“I have not a large appetite,”he answered quietly.

He didn’t want to say more. It was bad enough to constantly have the ache of hunger, but lack the motivation to eat. If Valiel knew, she would likely try to force him to eat. He didn’t want that, particularly since it would risk him killing the first person he’d met in a long while.

Valiel nodded quietly. "I can help you with that." She didn't elaborate, just glad he'd asked for help.

She also didn't believe his claim of a small appetite, but he clearly didn't want to talk about that more, and the whole point of changing the subject had been to get him more comfortable.
Try again, then.
"Noted. So how do your kind rest? I sleep, but that doesn't mean everyone does. If we were to try to rest for the evening, what would you need?"

De’Tearion gazed at her, not sure if he should believe her or not. But, she didn’t sound like she was lying, both by her voice and her heartbeat, so she meant it somehow. He wasn’t sure how, but it was probably best not to question her for now. So, he simply nodded in thanks.

He relaxed quite a bit when she changed the subject away from food. Sure, sleep wasn’t necessarily a better subject, but he could be honest without too much issue. Difficulty sleeping was easier to explain than starvation.

“Merely sleep, if I can manage it. In the wilderness like this, I typically sleep in the trees. ‘Tis difficult though. My dreams are as haunted as I am,”he answered softly.

He glanced down at their still entwined hands and absently rubbed her hand with a thumb. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it, but it was, somehow, soothing.

He'd at least answered honestly her about the sleep, which was good. She could work with that.
"Well, as you know, I can do tree sleep." Valiel smiled at him. "That's what's on my agenda, currently. I need to rest." The sleep she'd gotten from being unconscious didn't count. It wasn't restful, really.
He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, and she made sure not to pull away as she stepped towards the nearest tree. She pulled him with her. "I'm gonna shift, you're welcome to join me." She shifted back to the first form he'd seen her in- the panther, sleek, black fur over a lithe frame- and leapt almost straight up the tree.

De’Tearion snorted in slight amusement, remembering how he’d originally found her. He then nodded in understanding. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow suite.

As Valiel stepped away, De’Tearion followed, allowing her to pull him without complaint. He then gently let go of her as she prepared to morph. At the last minute, he remembered something.

“I… I have a request to make of you. If… you should hear me growling in my sleep, wake me, I beg. Yet… avoid touching me, for your sake,”he said quietly.

He then watched her, still fascinated by her morphing abilities, and chuckled as she jumped.

De’Tearion moved a few trees over, called on his second pair of arms, and simply climbed up the tree. Sure, he could jump directly into the branches with a simple leap, but he wasn’t in the mood to do so. Besides, to him, it would be a bit rude anyway, since Valiel had jumped. It would be boastful, even domineering, of him to show off his leaping skills like that. Or, maybe, he was just thinking too much.

He climbed up past a few branches, before deciding on a sturdy branch that split in two a few feet off the trunk. He sat down on the branch, his back against the tree trunk, and settled his legs securely on either side of the split. His lower pair of arms held the tree trunk, which would keep him from tipping over off the branch. Then, he simply relaxed into the tree and closed his eyes.

Valiel nodded at him from her branch, as she stretched herself across it. "I'll do that, though I'm very tired, and I can't promise I'll notice it."
She watched him climb up the tree, puzzled as to why he wouldn't just leap up into it. She came to the conclusion he was either too tired, or maybe trying to spare her feelings in some way, though he needn't have worried.

The Skin-changer smiled to herself as she watched him settle in, before closing her eyes and changing her breathing, slowing and settling it.
Valiel was asleep within a minute or two.

De’Tearion sighed,”Believe me, ‘tis difficult to miss.”

Though De’Tearion had his eyes closed, he wasn’t asleep. He listened closely to Valiel, to her breathing, her heartbeat, her flowing blood. It was as soothing as it was appealing.

Sleep didn’t come easily, even after the night’s events. And, despite his wishes, his sleep wasn’t restful at all. Nightmares of his past, of harsh battles, countless betrayals, and dozens of assassination attempts haunted him. By dawn, which had been only a few hours away, his claws were carving gashes in the tree and a low growl echoed in his throat.

Valiel hadn't been lying about her sleep habits. Most nights she slept lightly, ready for any attack, but a night or two out of every week, she needed to drop into deep sleep for a while, to fully recharge. The battles and the emotional upheaval of the preceding evening had knocked her out cold, and De'Tearion had picked a tree far enough away from her that she didn't hear him.

De’Tearion was completely unaware of his actions while he slept, especially as his dreams grew worse. They drifted from memories of war to memories of Agatha’s abuse. The constant brutal attacks against her, the ridicule, the foul glares.

De’Tearion had spent so long protecting Agatha, but it had all been meaningless. There had been too many insults that had nagged at her, too many claws that had found their mark, too many open wounds that refused to stop bleeding. He still heard her screams, as if they were still happening, over and over and over…

His claws dug deep holes into the tree, ripping chunks of bark as if it were nothing. His primary set of hands, in their insectile form, were clenched so tightly that his claws had pierced his exoskeletal armor and the flesh underneath, so that he was bleeding. The low growl rumbling in his throat rose steadily, becoming a loud, clicking hiss.

Within minutes, tears leaked from his eyes. His flexing toes latched onto the tree branch, snapping off bits of it until the split in the branch was gone. What remained of it, the part he was sitting on, was starting to groan and crack from having the full weight of De’Tearion centered on it.

Valiel eventually woke up, and was suddenly aware of the state he was in. She felt bad that she hadn't heard it, but. Nothing for it now.
Leaping from the branch she was on, she made her way over to him. She thought for a moment about how to wake him, since he'd said not to touch him.
A thought struck her, and she shifted to the bear form. 15 feet tall was tall enough to swat the branch he was lying on, which she did. It cracked, and dropped him straight down.
He probably won't appreciate that, but… better than nightmares.

The moment Valiel slapped the branch, De’Tearion woke, then fell. He yelped, teleporting to the ground, though he still slammed hard into the dirt. He quickly rolled to his knees and lashed out at Valiel, black mist immediately swirling around his fingers as he threw a large black ball of mist at Valiel. It was defensive, so it would only stun, but it was one of his more powerful spells.

Afterward, De’Tearion shifted onto his hands and knees, breathing deeply and fighting tears as his nightmares continued to haunt him. He had yet to realize that his hands, which were human now, still bled. Though, he was well aware that he had fallen out of a tree, simply because of the minor aches in his body and the daze he was in.

Luckily for her, Valiel had known full well he'dprobably come awake swinging. He'd warned her as much, and she wasn't dumb enough to think she could just tank whatever wild, terrified attack he threw upon being woken up.
So she'd immediately shifted back to the panther, and was ready, poised to dodge when he hurled the black ball of energy. She managed to leap and roll sideways and came back up on her feet, tensed and preparing to dodge again, if she needed to . Though he seemed more defensive than ready to attack, at the moment.
Still, she waited.

De’Tearion was unaware that Valiel had dodged his attack. Hell, he was unaware of his surroundings altogether. All he could think about was Agatha. Dearest Agatha, his twin, his beloved sister. The sister he’d failed.

He curled on the ground, holding his head as tears started to pour from his eyes. An entire life devoted to protecting Agatha, but it was all for naught. Ultimately, he had failed her. He had watched her die, watched her wither from a poisoned wound that couldn’t be healed. And, no one, no one out of their entire race, had acknowledged her death.

“Forgive me, Agatha. Forgive me for my flaws, my failures. All I wanted was to give you the life you deserved. And, I failed you, terribly,”he breathed, sobbing.

Valiel stayed tensed, waiting for him to attack again, but his frantic murmuring about yet another female gave her pause. She had to wonder if making herself his friend was a smart move, given he seemed to have an awful track record with women.
Still, he was clearly hurting, and not raving like a psycho, so that was a good sign.
She relaxed, but still didn't move. She didn't want to startle him, and there was no easy way to comfort him just now.

He sobbed for a good while. Blood from his hands steadily oozed into his hair, but he didn’t care, or even seem to notice.

His second arms appeared as he started to calm and he slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, cradling his wounded primary hands against his chest.

Then, De’Tearion stood and started to pace. His eyes quickly started to light with a feral rage. His primary hands morphed into claws, and an angry growl rumbled to life. Then, moments later, he shrieked and attacked the closest tree, digging out chunks of wood with all four claws. His wounded hands bled even more, but he didn’t seem to care.

Afterward, De’Tearion slid down the poor tree, his rage spent. He started crying again, but it was subdued.

“Agatha, my dearest Agatha. Wherever Mercy has sent you, I hope you have found the peace you lacked in this life. Maybe we shall find each other again, that I may hold you proper once more. I miss holding you, speaking with you. I even miss watching the way your eyes, the green eyes Mother gave you, light up when the trees started giving away their leaves. You always loved watching the leaves fall,”De’Tearion breathed.

More tears came to his eyes and his head drooped. Without even realizing it, he plucked at the wounds in his hands, making them bleed more.

Valiel watched him, her starting compassion turning to pity a short while after his second bout of crying.
Clearly, this was a fractured creature. He was blooding himself in his anguish, lashing out at things around him, and crying out to various women in his life who had burned him.
What a situation.
She didn't move closer, didn't attempt to interrupt his grieving. As long as he was content to grieve, she would let him.
At some point, he'd have to move on with his life. And she would be here, in her spot, when he did.

Several minutes passed as he slowly calmed. He stopped talking, stopped crying, and stopped plucking at his hands. He simply sat there, staring absently at his lap, and slowly dozing off. Eventually, he fell back asleep.

However, five minutes later, he was awake again, and he seemed considerably more lucid. De’Tearion inspected his hands and sighed. He then raised one hand, black mist forming around it, and hummed a healing spell. Faint gold light spread from the mist onto his hand, healing the wound. De’Tearion then repeated the spell on the hand he’d just used.

Afterward, he went to cleaning himself, wiping off the blood on his hands, on his face, and in his hair. Then, he stood. He paused at the sight of the many gashes he’d made in the tree, sighing sorrowfully.

“Mercy forgive me. I mean not to harm your offspring,”he whispered, caressing the gashes.

De’Tearion then, finally, remembered that he wasn’t alone. Though, it damn sure felt like he still was.

“Tell me, Valiel, do you take pleasure in watching others suffer from the effects of harsh dreams? Or, I believe humans call them, ‘nightmares’? Do you also enjoy attacking others in their sleep, after they requested to be woken?”he asked, turning to face Valiel, giving her a detached glare.