who shot that arrow in your throat? who missed the crimson apple?

[heirship]

T O   W H O M   I T   M A Y   C O N C E R N:

my father is dead.
❧

Comments

[willbereborn]

Oh, I'm... I'm sorry to hear that, truly, really am. It hurts to die, doesn't it? But maybe he'll come back, as someone else, as a newborn, as someone entirely different. Does it work like that, for you, for him? Here?

WHY HELLO THERE :V

[everyblackdog]

Death comes in many ways. Not all of them painful. As for whether or not they return after, that is a matter of debate.

HELLO HELLO TRYING OUT NEW PERSON SHE MIGHT BE A SKITTISH LITTLE BIRD

[willbereborn]

[ She twirls around, a little startled, shrugs her shoulders, dips her head. Doesn't like to be startled, makes her want to fly away. But she stays, he doesn't smell like them. ]

Oh, oh. [ She looks around, a nervous little thing. ] No, no, maybe they'll return.

/descends upon her GENTLY.

[everyblackdog]

[ Her skittishness riles a bit of his instincts. Fight or flight he wonders as he widens his eyes a little at her and watches her glance about. She smells odd to him, and vaguely familiar. ]

Know about those sorts of things, do you?

[willbereborn]

[ Leaning in, leaning back, almost as if she doesn't know what to do with her body, the girl seems to nod, but then shakes her head. She could be one of them, and she doesn't want to risk it, doesn't want her wings clipped. ]

Just-- he says, I have a fertile imagination.

[everyblackdog]

[ What a strange, uncomfortable creature, Blackie thinks. Animals, he knows, behave like animals; humans and gods also act accordingly. This one, however, cannot seem to decide which it is. ]

Perhaps your observations are not nearly as imaginary as he would lead you to believe.

[willbereborn]

[ There's now a curious smile on her lips. She leans closer then, watches this boy. Maybe he's not so bad. ]

You really think so?

[everyblackdog]

[ Blackie gives a loose shrug, his hand canting to one side. He of course knows much better, but it seems like this girl doesn't. ]

Think so, know so. Yes, perhaps.

[willbereborn]

[ Quietly, she looks at him, and then offers a large smile. ]

Do you believe in magic?

[everyblackdog]

[ He grins back at her, though his smile is not wholly pleasant. It's a satisfied, almost wolfish expression, which shows too many teeth. It is the closest thing he has to friendliness, still so predatory in nature. ]

I do.

[willbereborn]

[ She accepts the smile, still grinning her own. She cups the side of her mouth, leans closer, so she's whispering in his ear - a child telling a secret would look no different.]

Me too.

[everyblackdog]

[ The gesture is faintly amusing and simply adds to his growing curiosity. Blackie barks out a quiet laugh. ]

Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. It's here. All around you. [ Right in front of you, he thinks. ]

[willbereborn]

[ Like an infant that drinks up stories of knights and dragons, she nods. ]

I know, even they know, they just don't want it. [ Shakes her head. ] They hate it, do you know why? I don't. [ Skittish, shy, but smiley, a little more at ease. ] I like it, it feels warm and smells good.

[everyblackdog]

[ Blackie turns to look at the roomful of strangers, all going through the pantomimes of grief. Shadow puppets on parade. ]

Magic is a very large idea and they are very small creatures. Once, they gave themselves over to things much greater than themselves, but those times have passed. Now, they wish for control, for answers they can comprehend and therefore rule over. [ He looks back at her again, a sullen knowing in his eyes. There is a reason why the Black Dog is masterless now, even though his purpose remains. ] They hate it because magic will do what magic does, whether they like it or not.

[ A pause, as he leans a bit closer and gives the air a very faint sniff. ] Do you know what you are?

[willbereborn]

[ Impressed by the speech - it's so easy to capture her attention, yet so much easier to lose it - the girl smiles and tilts her head, brushes a loose bang from her face behind her ear, delicately. Her voice becomes a little more steady as she answers, almost proud, but still fragile like bones made of wet sand. ]

I am fire. I am flight. I am air, I am one. I am the phoenix and I will be reborn.

[everyblackdog]

[ He stares at her for a long moment, his face taking on an expression it very rarely does: one of enlightenment. There is very little left in existence that amazes the Black Dog; more than a thousand lifetimes of existence can do that. Still, he has heard about the phoenix but never once met one before. His black eyes wander across her face before he grins, lets out another gruff laugh and then extends his hand. So this is what another turn of the wheel smells like, he thinks as he does so. ]

Rebirth, hello. I am a portent of Death, an emissary of the Underworld, a watcher of the crossroads. I serve the End that you defy. I am the Black Dog.

[ Despite this speech and the heaviness of its words (she seemed the type who liked stories), he remains amiable. ]