Some way I will find you hiding under a bed, for only then can I remove your pretty little head.
So, uh. Yeah. I wrote some original stuff. The main character is taken from a mix of the Swan Lady and Selkie legends with a lot of bullshitting because the legends were sketchy at the best of times. Plus I've been meaning to write something original. I also like to have very childish grown-ups for some reason.
I also have the need to explain a few things. I do not own the brunette/Cered. He's my friend's character (that I borrowed with permission) from the roleplay that these characters came from. The part in italics is a flashback (about 100 - 200 years) to where the brunette is actually Cered. The brunette is an incarnation of Cered, blahblahblah, Nevs is still himself. The end is a very, very bad inside joke between my friend and myself.
---X---
With little effort, Nevan had landed and freed himself of his swan skin. Pale as the snow he stood on. The dark haired man took a few steps forward, hands closing around the clothes he had hidden away so long ago. Now he hated being immortal, a curse of his kind. He missed Cered (the man having died a few hundred years ago), eyes settling on an abandoned and snow covered swing. He dusted the white slush off the rubber seat before sitting.
A few hours had passed, just sitting on the swing. Nevs was lost in thought before the creak of another weight sounded from the frame. The slender man's eyes peeked over at the newcomer with a childlike curiosity, widening with a sick sense of recognition. A older (physically at least) man with chocolate locks and warm doe eyes stared back, hands tightening on the icy cold chains as he swung a little.
An awkward silence filled the winter air, both men looking away for a while. The midnight haired man kicked at the snow coated ground, biting his lip. He didn't know much about modern manners but asking 'hey, do you remember me?' could most likely still be rude. His pale hands tightened on the chains when the creaking from the frame slowed and then stopped.
“How do I know you?”
Nevan jumped at the sudden noise, looking at the brunette with wide eyes. He was quiet for a while, trying to pry his fingers from the frozen chain so he could get up if he needed to.
“I could ask the same, sir.”
The other frowned, a look of concentration on his face. The pale man stood up (having managed to loosen his grip) and quickly walking to the large mess of metal that could be called a playground, gently pulling his skin out and holding it up. He could feel the warm mocha eyes rake over the feathered mess of skin, recognition of some-sort in his eyes. It was quickly followed by horror.
“Oh. OH!”
The man had jumped off the swing, taking a few steps back and tripping on a snowdrift. Nevs had to suppress the laughter, turning to tuck the skin away in its hiding spot. That's when a clump of snow hit him in the back of his head, that's when those painful memories came back.
The snow had fallen early this year, Cered was worried about supplies. Nevan had felt nervous about this, the snow was early every couple of years but this was bad. They had to trek into town again. Nevs took his usual costume (dressed as a woman) and Cered merely made sure that he wouldn't be found out.
Oh how wrong he was.
Blood stained the snow, Nevs was in tears as he leaned over Cered. He petted the dying man's hair, tears close to freezing solid on his cheek. The brunette sighed quietly, reaching into the top of his shirt and pulled out a leather string with a key attatched. The red eyed man understood. Cered's breath hitched, no gasp for air following. Nevan gasped and quickly pressed a kiss to the dead man's lips before running as fast as he could to the stone cottage.
The red eyed man soon found himself curled up in the snow, a worried face above him. Nevs reached up and petted the brunette's cheek, smiling childishly.
“It's like petting a cactus...”
The other laughed quietly, a smile on his lips.
“I'll fix it later.”
Yeah, I'm gonna shut up and go back to my music.
I also have the need to explain a few things. I do not own the brunette/Cered. He's my friend's character (that I borrowed with permission) from the roleplay that these characters came from. The part in italics is a flashback (about 100 - 200 years) to where the brunette is actually Cered. The brunette is an incarnation of Cered, blahblahblah, Nevs is still himself. The end is a very, very bad inside joke between my friend and myself.
---X---
With little effort, Nevan had landed and freed himself of his swan skin. Pale as the snow he stood on. The dark haired man took a few steps forward, hands closing around the clothes he had hidden away so long ago. Now he hated being immortal, a curse of his kind. He missed Cered (the man having died a few hundred years ago), eyes settling on an abandoned and snow covered swing. He dusted the white slush off the rubber seat before sitting.
A few hours had passed, just sitting on the swing. Nevs was lost in thought before the creak of another weight sounded from the frame. The slender man's eyes peeked over at the newcomer with a childlike curiosity, widening with a sick sense of recognition. A older (physically at least) man with chocolate locks and warm doe eyes stared back, hands tightening on the icy cold chains as he swung a little.
An awkward silence filled the winter air, both men looking away for a while. The midnight haired man kicked at the snow coated ground, biting his lip. He didn't know much about modern manners but asking 'hey, do you remember me?' could most likely still be rude. His pale hands tightened on the chains when the creaking from the frame slowed and then stopped.
“How do I know you?”
Nevan jumped at the sudden noise, looking at the brunette with wide eyes. He was quiet for a while, trying to pry his fingers from the frozen chain so he could get up if he needed to.
“I could ask the same, sir.”
The other frowned, a look of concentration on his face. The pale man stood up (having managed to loosen his grip) and quickly walking to the large mess of metal that could be called a playground, gently pulling his skin out and holding it up. He could feel the warm mocha eyes rake over the feathered mess of skin, recognition of some-sort in his eyes. It was quickly followed by horror.
“Oh. OH!”
The man had jumped off the swing, taking a few steps back and tripping on a snowdrift. Nevs had to suppress the laughter, turning to tuck the skin away in its hiding spot. That's when a clump of snow hit him in the back of his head, that's when those painful memories came back.
The snow had fallen early this year, Cered was worried about supplies. Nevan had felt nervous about this, the snow was early every couple of years but this was bad. They had to trek into town again. Nevs took his usual costume (dressed as a woman) and Cered merely made sure that he wouldn't be found out.
Oh how wrong he was.
Blood stained the snow, Nevs was in tears as he leaned over Cered. He petted the dying man's hair, tears close to freezing solid on his cheek. The brunette sighed quietly, reaching into the top of his shirt and pulled out a leather string with a key attatched. The red eyed man understood. Cered's breath hitched, no gasp for air following. Nevan gasped and quickly pressed a kiss to the dead man's lips before running as fast as he could to the stone cottage.
The red eyed man soon found himself curled up in the snow, a worried face above him. Nevs reached up and petted the brunette's cheek, smiling childishly.
“It's like petting a cactus...”
The other laughed quietly, a smile on his lips.
“I'll fix it later.”
Yeah, I'm gonna shut up and go back to my music.