“I wonder if he misses me,” Kenneth said to himself, his feet tapping on while his mind remained in his thoughts, as if his feet drove his body rather than his mind. “I wonder if… HE…”
But what would he ask? Did he wonder if the other on his mind was doing well? Did Kenneth wonder if the man was dead, that rather AL, or Nickolai as he was really known, was still alive? They had shared a great deal of time together, almost a decade. And Kenneth had come to know the traitor down to his habits, finished his sentences, saw him as a lover. Of course, a lover he would return to after his tricks, and scouting out anyone willing to pay for a small moment, or a while of pleasure.
He had left them both for Abhoria, then Alex had come to save him. And now greater than ever they seemed alike in their nature, their wanting, their lust. And now more than ever he hated their very beings, and they were terrific liars, they slunk to the shadows and any soul that dared to pass by would be drawn into them, and they would lie.
Though Alex would stop short of causing someone harm… Unless that was something they desired, Alex would care after lying, he would try to fix what mistakes he made in moments of lust, in compulsion. It was a sure miracle that he did not father hundreds of children by this day, by this hour he still only had one, biologically. That was astonishing to Kenneth, that maybe Alex was more careful than compulsive in nature. It set seeds of doubt about leaving, and that slowed Kenneth's pace.
He had watched Alex countless hours, days, months. Hanging on just to know his life. Their relationship short, but, Kenneth's feelings were of love. And for what reason did he get to know this man well before they actually meant-- the meddling hierarchy of beings, the celestial folk, wanted to guide the faux young king in a better direction, they wanted to have someone lookout for them, and to pay attention to those that the beings above deemed important. Kenneth had been that lookout, and there was some “reason” behind it all, even as Kenneth was left in the dark about a lot of it, but Alex would not cause disarray now, and had he ever wanted to, someone would have been there to stop him because of these meddling gods, if they ever, or even had that sort of status.
Nickolai had lied about being AL, had lied every moment that he had possessed a human body and before that, lied that he had ever been Kenneth’s true familiar, and if he had been, he was deceived in his way of being as they had been. But he must have seen Kenneth take interest in Alex, and that must have hurt. It must have hurt as Kenneth had been hurt, when Alex took interest in Ken, so Kenneth too, was at fault.
But now, Kenneth stared down at a haphazardly made map, it’s edges curled like that of a fairytale map, a quest map, but it hadn’t been finished. And he had not given Alex, it’s maker, much time to prepare it at that. Any discoveries, new paths or broken buildings Kenneth had found, had to be marked in his own handwriting, which failed in structure and comparison to Alex’s, though the letters were rushed it would have been a nice map had Alex been allotted more time.
He was away from the drab kingdom that which Alex “ruled.” He was avoiding the dark lands, the dreary paths and the dull grass that led to Abhoria, and he knew the way there and back without a map but he would stray from it the rest of his life like a demon to holy land if he could help it.
He found himself puzzled at the path ahead, not that it wasn’t there on his map, but that it was barely there in person. The bricks were sparse, the signs were dull and the handwriting on them was faded. He would not return to Aridrab to restore the map, or have the path restored, it would take too much time. But he would stand here, worried about which direction was safe, or, if he would be led in a circle.
But what would he ask? Did he wonder if the other on his mind was doing well? Did Kenneth wonder if the man was dead, that rather AL, or Nickolai as he was really known, was still alive? They had shared a great deal of time together, almost a decade. And Kenneth had come to know the traitor down to his habits, finished his sentences, saw him as a lover. Of course, a lover he would return to after his tricks, and scouting out anyone willing to pay for a small moment, or a while of pleasure.
He had left them both for Abhoria, then Alex had come to save him. And now greater than ever they seemed alike in their nature, their wanting, their lust. And now more than ever he hated their very beings, and they were terrific liars, they slunk to the shadows and any soul that dared to pass by would be drawn into them, and they would lie.
Though Alex would stop short of causing someone harm… Unless that was something they desired, Alex would care after lying, he would try to fix what mistakes he made in moments of lust, in compulsion. It was a sure miracle that he did not father hundreds of children by this day, by this hour he still only had one, biologically. That was astonishing to Kenneth, that maybe Alex was more careful than compulsive in nature. It set seeds of doubt about leaving, and that slowed Kenneth's pace.
He had watched Alex countless hours, days, months. Hanging on just to know his life. Their relationship short, but, Kenneth's feelings were of love. And for what reason did he get to know this man well before they actually meant-- the meddling hierarchy of beings, the celestial folk, wanted to guide the faux young king in a better direction, they wanted to have someone lookout for them, and to pay attention to those that the beings above deemed important. Kenneth had been that lookout, and there was some “reason” behind it all, even as Kenneth was left in the dark about a lot of it, but Alex would not cause disarray now, and had he ever wanted to, someone would have been there to stop him because of these meddling gods, if they ever, or even had that sort of status.
Nickolai had lied about being AL, had lied every moment that he had possessed a human body and before that, lied that he had ever been Kenneth’s true familiar, and if he had been, he was deceived in his way of being as they had been. But he must have seen Kenneth take interest in Alex, and that must have hurt. It must have hurt as Kenneth had been hurt, when Alex took interest in Ken, so Kenneth too, was at fault.
But now, Kenneth stared down at a haphazardly made map, it’s edges curled like that of a fairytale map, a quest map, but it hadn’t been finished. And he had not given Alex, it’s maker, much time to prepare it at that. Any discoveries, new paths or broken buildings Kenneth had found, had to be marked in his own handwriting, which failed in structure and comparison to Alex’s, though the letters were rushed it would have been a nice map had Alex been allotted more time.
He was away from the drab kingdom that which Alex “ruled.” He was avoiding the dark lands, the dreary paths and the dull grass that led to Abhoria, and he knew the way there and back without a map but he would stray from it the rest of his life like a demon to holy land if he could help it.
He found himself puzzled at the path ahead, not that it wasn’t there on his map, but that it was barely there in person. The bricks were sparse, the signs were dull and the handwriting on them was faded. He would not return to Aridrab to restore the map, or have the path restored, it would take too much time. But he would stand here, worried about which direction was safe, or, if he would be led in a circle.
Patrick sighed as he slid down the the rough bark of tree. He’d been walking for nearly a month now and wasn’t quite sure where he was. He’d followed Patch’s directions, or so he thought, but he must have missed something or else he’d be in a new city now.
He had wanted to get away from everything going on. From talks of other selves and other worlds. From the idea that he was himself, and Patch, and others. He’d never encountered, in his world, what Patch called ‘multiverse theory’.
He wasn’t sure how he ended up here but when he’d found Alexander, his old friend, who he’d thought to be dead or had run away; he was elated about that. But it seemed Alexander didn’t share his joy. At least not the same level. His friend had been amazed to see him here in this entirely different world but that seemed to be it.
Patrick leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes.
His clothes were tattered, his face and hands dirty. Neither of these things bothered him...much. Of course the dress had been expensive but it didn’t matter, he could make one as fine by hand with cheaper materials later on. If he could just find a city, and therefore a job. He wanted to make his own way in this new world, perhaps even find a way home. Neither Patch nor his acquaintances had any information on how he might achieve this. He didn’t know where to start with this and neither had Patch, the only reasonably educated person he’d known since coming here. Patch had said that even the royal Draakmar library had nothing on the theory or subject that he himself hadn’t written or read.
He shivered now, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them close to himself. He’d have to build a fire soon. He’d travelled too far north of that he was sure. He’d have been able to find his way, but the constellations were different here, and he’d made the mistake of travelling at night to many times thinking that the sky would be different, or more familiar. Now he was lost and didn’t know if he’d find a city, or even a town or a hermit.
As he sat, he dozed, breathing long deep even breaths. He was tired, walking for a long time and the idea of continuing his aimless journey wasn’t as smart as he’d thought before, that he’d “find” his “way” somehow.
He had been taught so much but put so little of it to practice that such skills were not there. He knew he could survive in the woods for the rest of his life, and comfortably after a while too. But the idea still frightened him. Not just the loneliness of being in the woods till his dying day, but the idea of not making anything of himself, the thought of killing his food everyday turned his stomach, and he knew he would miss his material life style. He clenched his teeth against the tears that threatened and the cries that tore at his throat, wanting out.
He had wanted to get away from everything going on. From talks of other selves and other worlds. From the idea that he was himself, and Patch, and others. He’d never encountered, in his world, what Patch called ‘multiverse theory’.
He wasn’t sure how he ended up here but when he’d found Alexander, his old friend, who he’d thought to be dead or had run away; he was elated about that. But it seemed Alexander didn’t share his joy. At least not the same level. His friend had been amazed to see him here in this entirely different world but that seemed to be it.
Patrick leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes.
His clothes were tattered, his face and hands dirty. Neither of these things bothered him...much. Of course the dress had been expensive but it didn’t matter, he could make one as fine by hand with cheaper materials later on. If he could just find a city, and therefore a job. He wanted to make his own way in this new world, perhaps even find a way home. Neither Patch nor his acquaintances had any information on how he might achieve this. He didn’t know where to start with this and neither had Patch, the only reasonably educated person he’d known since coming here. Patch had said that even the royal Draakmar library had nothing on the theory or subject that he himself hadn’t written or read.
He shivered now, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them close to himself. He’d have to build a fire soon. He’d travelled too far north of that he was sure. He’d have been able to find his way, but the constellations were different here, and he’d made the mistake of travelling at night to many times thinking that the sky would be different, or more familiar. Now he was lost and didn’t know if he’d find a city, or even a town or a hermit.
As he sat, he dozed, breathing long deep even breaths. He was tired, walking for a long time and the idea of continuing his aimless journey wasn’t as smart as he’d thought before, that he’d “find” his “way” somehow.
He had been taught so much but put so little of it to practice that such skills were not there. He knew he could survive in the woods for the rest of his life, and comfortably after a while too. But the idea still frightened him. Not just the loneliness of being in the woods till his dying day, but the idea of not making anything of himself, the thought of killing his food everyday turned his stomach, and he knew he would miss his material life style. He clenched his teeth against the tears that threatened and the cries that tore at his throat, wanting out.
“Jesus…”
Kenneth’s start at the stranger, not having noticed him there, was the last thing he needed right now. A stranger in his path, period. But as he approached, he recognized this man, he was… Nice, as far as their past introduction had been. He liked gems, and dressed and acted like that of aristocracy. And… He was an alternate of… Of Patch’s.
Kenneth stood staring at his map not to look suspicious.
Starved, filthy and ratted, Patrick looked pitiful. A shadow of the man who had been a target for fluster six or so months ago. The person who curtsied and bowed to others, who criticized the very things he was now covered in.
“Pat… Patrick?” Kenneth asked finally.
He didn’t kneel near the other, or offer him anything yet. He somehow doubted the man would want anything, or accept it because of his pride.
“Are you doing alright?”
Kenneth’s start at the stranger, not having noticed him there, was the last thing he needed right now. A stranger in his path, period. But as he approached, he recognized this man, he was… Nice, as far as their past introduction had been. He liked gems, and dressed and acted like that of aristocracy. And… He was an alternate of… Of Patch’s.
Kenneth stood staring at his map not to look suspicious.
Starved, filthy and ratted, Patrick looked pitiful. A shadow of the man who had been a target for fluster six or so months ago. The person who curtsied and bowed to others, who criticized the very things he was now covered in.
“Pat… Patrick?” Kenneth asked finally.
He didn’t kneel near the other, or offer him anything yet. He somehow doubted the man would want anything, or accept it because of his pride.
“Are you doing alright?”
Patrick jerked awake, staring around for who’d said his name.
“Patch?” He said hopefully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The sun was setting now and dusk was approaching, though there was still plenty of light to see by.
When he lowered his hands and stared blearily up at the figure he recognized him...sort of. He looked like Patch’s friend but not quite. One of his alternates, Patrick guessed.
“O-Oh, hey there… Yyyyyou.” He chuckled nervously not meeting Kenneth’s gaze. “ Y-Yeah, I’m fine ya know? Just… Just chillin… heh.”
“Patch?” He said hopefully, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The sun was setting now and dusk was approaching, though there was still plenty of light to see by.
When he lowered his hands and stared blearily up at the figure he recognized him...sort of. He looked like Patch’s friend but not quite. One of his alternates, Patrick guessed.
“O-Oh, hey there… Yyyyyou.” He chuckled nervously not meeting Kenneth’s gaze. “ Y-Yeah, I’m fine ya know? Just… Just chillin… heh.”
A brow rose on Kenneth’s face and he brought his map up to read again, turning to one side with a sigh.
“I’m sure…” He mumbled sarcastically, pulling out a pen and marking something on the map where he was, or that the path looked different than the map indicated, before taking a few steps toward one direction.
The sky darkening, he stopped, looking up.
“That’s.. A bad idea isn’t it…” he said in a hushed tone to himself.
His gaze returned to Patrick and his tattered clothes.
“Is this area safe? It’s probably not a good idea that I go any further for now… I don’t want to run into anything.”
“I’m sure…” He mumbled sarcastically, pulling out a pen and marking something on the map where he was, or that the path looked different than the map indicated, before taking a few steps toward one direction.
The sky darkening, he stopped, looking up.
“That’s.. A bad idea isn’t it…” he said in a hushed tone to himself.
His gaze returned to Patrick and his tattered clothes.
“Is this area safe? It’s probably not a good idea that I go any further for now… I don’t want to run into anything.”
You are on: Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Away From Aridrab (Reboot) 5/12/2017 *Closed*
Moderators: Mina, Keke, Cass, Auberon, Claine, Ilmarinen, Ben, Darth_Angelus