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Hauze
Feb 18, 2008 23:25:38 GMT -5
Post by .K.aci on Feb 18, 2008 23:25:38 GMT -5
If this could wait til tomorrow, Undone. Getting kicked off the computer to sleep. Pssh, who needs sleep anymore? That's why they invented caffine. XD
Status Being Applied For: A Hear's All Dragons
Reason for Wanting this Status: Well, Hauze is border-line instanity. While he fight's by himself to control it, especially his like of blood, if he had this, the dragon's can help keep him sane. His worst fear is being left alone, you see, and if he had a presence in his mind, it'd help.
Sample Post, including this Status:
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Hauze
Feb 22, 2008 23:42:31 GMT -5
Post by .K.aci on Feb 22, 2008 23:42:31 GMT -5
When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band
He had given up trying to halt the tremors that racked his body. He had given up fighting the black cloud that whispered in his ear. He couldn’t free himself, he realized numbly, and buried his head in his hands, the rocking of the wagon under his booted feet melting in with his body as he let himself shift with it, as much as you do when at sea. He was poised on the edge of the cliff, and even as it crumbled, faster and faster, he couldn’t step backwards. But even as this was called into light, the darkness that was creeping closer to engulf him, embrace him with an icy touch, assured him that stepping backwards was bad, that to fall was the only way. Even as he was tipping…
Thunk! The ruts that carved the simple road up were unmanageable, and knocked him from his wallowing. His shoulder sore from where he had fell hard on it, he shook out unruly ragged black hair, leaning against the wall, too lazy to resume his seat. A broad hand that was marked oddly up his arm was drug down his face in an effort to wake it, although the temblors were undiminished. He had felt himself begin to cave as he wallowed in guilt and an aching sadness. That couldn’t happen again. He fought to force his lithe body upwards, standing stooped over in the wagon that had been more built for his tiny aunt than his lanky self.
His hands shoved deep in worn slacks, he scrutinized the space. Spartan, oddly empty without her voluptuous form, the only savior he had, it felt bare without her adroit and vigorous self bustling about, rapping orders. Herbs still hung from the rafter’s, pots and pans and other feckless miscellany stacked neatly in the corner with the bedrolls and well-worn tent. It was packed neatly, as though she had been in here only yesterday, not pallid and weak in the corner while he sat by her, waiting for the inevitable.
She had left him almost nothing, a pouch full of marks that she had saved carefully over the years, a beautiful necklace, the only family heirloom he would ever hold, her hefty hunting and skinning gear, and her beast, a black spitfire runner that he had watched her raise. Her words still lingered in his mind, and he let himself think back to that moment, when she clutched at his hand, her thumb tracing the tattoo that she had never reproached him for getting, understanding why. Her thick melodious voice, syrup and honey, now diminished…
“Weyr ahead!”
The call exprobated him from the memory, and he swore at himself for allowing his cognizance to take him back. But that was his call, and rising more quickly than he had before, spurred by a chance to do something, to be useful, he thrust open the back of the wagon and leapt to the ground, stumbling on legs that hadn’t seen use for several hours.
Hauze turned hazy twilight blue eyes upon the runnerbeast that was plodding after the wagon, and with a quick jerk, untied her, swinging up. She immediately, sensing adventure, began to dance as he steered her from the middle of the caravan. He could feel her, feel the power practically thrumming under twitching skin. It was all he could do to keep her under control, as she first begged, than fought for her head. But he grew up around runner’s, and with more than one broken bone to prove it, he managed to steer her from the endless monotone caravan and off down the side, kicking her into action, although she needed no bidding.
He marveled in the power she gave him, one long bunch of muscle that stretched out to pull itself forward, a taunt spring that had just been released. She flew, her hooves barely brushing the ground as he bent over, urging her on, his own freedom from the world for just a moment. Everything else was white noise in the background, the wind whipping his ragged haircut back from his face. He was exposed to the world for one moment, and he didn’t care, his lower lip slipped between his teeth as he melted with the beast.
All to soon they were entering the Bowl, and he was back in his mask, slowing the runner up as they came to warn the Weyrwoman that their caravan would be arriving shortly. The runner safety stored, his message politely delivered, he had time before they reached the busy Weyr. Even as he lazily strolled along the grassy edge of the Bowl, he took the time to consider the new place. A Trader when the first glittering dragon had burst over the skies, on the surface took it like another Trader, joy at a new place to trade with. But inside… The dragons had returned, and he saw the chance to Impress, to Stand at least… But to realistic, he shoved that aside as he fought to live, survive.
Amora met him somewhere in the expanse, expressing her distaste at being left behind by demanding attention from his idle hand, and he scratched her ear as he paused. It had been nagging him since he had first entered the Weyr, the tug, the constant nag as they asked to speak. He opened the floodgates as fast as he could, eager for the wash of minds that linked to his, sinking in hooked claws and dragging him back to reality while he was there. Their were perhaps the few he had befriended and the newer Weyrling dragons that were awed by this, although he asked them to stay silent to their Bonded.
One mind in particular he looked for, and found it quarreling with another, a hefty Brown.
‘Num-nuck, this is MY spot, thank you. I am a female after all, and hasn’t that Rider of yours taught you to be nice to females? An elder too, thank you.’
He sent a waver up the hook, and she turned her green head downwards from the perches to scan for him, dismissing the younger dragon at once.
‘Hauze, you’re back. This is interesting.’
He marveled in that, in the fact that they spoke, but not with words. It was more of a connection that they were just together suddenly, and he drank in every chance to stay with someone that wasn’t dangling off the cliff of insanity, debating leaping into the abyss of light that called in a haunting way.
‘Yes, and how do you and you’re rider fare, Venth?’
‘Oh, well, alright.’
A particularly chatty Green that loved to gossip, she had developed a liking for him, and went on to chatter about Her’s and her new mate that had managed to catch her, Blue Companth.
But all to soon it was time to return to the caravan that was streaming in, eager to begin the Gather, and he excused himself, although the stable mindpoints always lingering.
And history was made at the Gather as Venth, yammering at him while he and Amora took their break, asked Companth to look at Hauze. Companth rumbled a greeting to the boy while his rider explained that he was to be Searched, and suddenly everything was changing as he settled into the Candidates Quarters. It had been a whirlwind, a rush, and suddenly he found himself alone, the only male yet to be searched, in the room.
Even as he drifted into sleep late that night, nightmares haunted him. Alone haunted him, and for a moment his body tensed, just as the runner did, to leap from the cliff and into the abyss. But his mind lurched out, just as a babe does when scared, calling out quietly, scared, tears layered thick in his voice although none escaped his mind.
“Don’t leave me?”
A rumble was woven to him, and a multitude crashed down on him, reassuring his mauled spirit.
“We are here.”
He said son when you grow up would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the down, He said will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non believers, the plans that they have made
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Hauze
Feb 28, 2008 0:18:29 GMT -5
Post by M'kel on Feb 28, 2008 0:18:29 GMT -5
Sorry, but I don't think we want a HAD on this site. It's too rare and controversial.
Still, I'm looking forward to seeing how he fends off insanity until the Hatching! That should be fun. ^_^
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