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[ Abattoir ]
Forum-Index → Fanmades → Fanfictions → [ Abattoir ]
Posted: Mon, 10/01/2022 16:31 (2 Years ago)
[ abattoir ]
(isd hydraverse)
Summary:
indentRemember me, love, when I'm reborn
indentAs the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn
indent//
indentwc; 1612 words
Notes:
indentgeneral tw of mourning and death; gonna try to do all five stages to the best of my ability.
Posted: Mon, 10/01/2022 17:40 (2 Years ago)
chapter 1 : the words hung above (but never would form)
Summary:
inden.Lorcan was prolific, and in the nights where he could not sleep, he drew upon the walls the shadows of his mind. Rich
inden.black ink danced like shadows, beasts and birds waiting for their master to come home.
indent/ /
indentOr, the discordance of expectation and reality, the memories of loss and losing again.
With a short huff, the Red Sith turned to the keypad, and keyed in the sequence that signified enter. There was no need for memory, not really. Even if Lorcan changed his code, which he often did to avoid being bothered, it made no difference to the Force. He might as well have printed the code outside his door with big bold letters: open the door like so. The door slid open — or it tried to. Rusty from disuse, the hinges to the door only allowed the door to open partway. The angry clash of metal on metal and rust assaulted his ears like the cry of a crow.
“Crows gather around carrion a lot. Ravens are the same. Carrion’s sometimes all you’ll see them eat too.” The Shaliz’na’s voice echoed in his ears, drawing Cal back to the first time when he pointed out, with a smooth ebony talon, the charcoal colored birds gathered around the fallen form of a beast. A murder of crows, as the Shaliz’na had told him. “Though others sometimes call them a conspiracy.” The corpse was at least a day old, but these crows were voracious, and did not hesitate to gorge their fill. Bone glinted coldly under the midmorning sun. Lorcan didn’t so much as bat an eye at the sight while he continued to explain to his friend. “They’re not primarily hunters. Yes, they have predatory behaviors, but this—.” He nodded to the scene below, “Is a bit more common. It’s only when the prey has fallen, when the predators have come and gone, that the crows come and pick up what’s left.”
“So they’re scavengers?” His brow furrowed with distaste as he watched their shiny black bodies and glittering eyes.
“Yes. Of a sort. I don’t like to think of them as such.” Lorcan cast a meaningful glance at Calverus briefly, unintentionally ruffling his wings for emphasis. “Y’know, since I’m, like, named after them.” He chuckled lightly, his eyes going back to the ravens below, “Don’t get me wrong, they’ve got the reputation for it. I guess it’s more so a transitioning point. Like, moving out of a house, or closing a chapter on a part of your life. You throw out all your things, or you pack it up. In the end, all of its memories.”
Lorcan’s eye were the most unusual shade of yellow. It wasn’t the closely-confused hazel, or chartreuse or olive. No, they were gold. And it wasn’t the shade that reminded Calverus of credit chips or of the vicious diabolical glow of Sith eyes — the Shaliz’na’s eye became the absolute most unnerving shade of amber when he really got into it — but the gold that reminded Cal of faraway plains, of eagles that swooped among mountaintops wreathed in mist, of cold wind that slapped his cheeks raw with the cold shards of freedom. With a shard of regret, he was reminded that one of Locan’s eyes was pale as mist, sealed shut forever. My fault. Just another example of how Lorcan paid the price for something he had no responsibility for.
The doors groaned up at last, and Cal was greeted with the sight of empty quarters and clean, bare, floor. He didn’t know what hit him first, the cold or the emptiness, the sight of all this new space staring blankly up at him. Confusion set in - Am I in the wrong room? No, but he was here recently, wasn’t he? This is his room. Actually, the Red Sith thought himself a bit too smart to have been misdirected. He knew the compound backwards and forwards So why is nothing…here? The room was picked clean of everything that pointed towards the Shaliz’na living here. Clean as crow-picked bones. He shook despite himself, driving the image from his mind.
But, there were still memories littered around, the little things that no one was going to erase.
Lorcan’s art was prolific, and in the nights where he could not sleep, he drew upon the walls the shadows of his mind. Rich black ink danced upon the walls like shadows, various beasts and birds waiting for their master to come home. Many of them resembled crows, with darting eyes, sharp beaks, and great black wings. On another note, it seemed those eyes were following him. He took two steps to the left, and then to the right to test his theory. Yes, they followed him indeed, as if Lorcan had drawn them to be sentient.
It was a surprise to some that Lorcan could recount these things with such detail. After all, what was the last time he had gone home? But an artist remembered. And crows never forgot.
“Oh, that. Well, of course I remember. It’s my home, how could I forget it? And you know what?” Lorcan’s breath caught with excitement, his eyes glowing topaz. They were standing reconnaissance on one of the higher treetops, exchanging words in hushed whispers while they waited for Anthony to return. “Sometimes, I think I’m flying, or I’m dreaming it. Among them I mean. It’s been confirmed that crows have great memory, for good or for worse. And to that, I say better to be friend than foe. It’s no pleasant feeling to be driven out of their homes by their beaks and talons…”
Where was he, anyhow? Calverus glanced through the hall, but there was no whisper of big black wings across durasteel, no shiny black talons on hands, no unusual golden eye. ‘It’s nearly oh nine-hundred hours, where in the Name of the Empire is he?’ With an irritated huff, he decided to make his way to the bridge. ‘But say he’s not here at all? Say … you’re not the one that’s lost.’
‘Am I lost?’ Maybe this search itself was futile. Maybe there was no point looking at all. But the Red Sith wasn’t always driven by the voice of common sense, and thus, his route to the bridge went undeterred. Undeniably, there was an urgency to his steps, like the thing that he was looking for was some sort of necessity.
Lorcan was not on the bridge, either. Saffron hues scanned the scene, searching for those big black wings. So intent was he in his task that he easily dismissed the various crew members that glanced at him curiously or warily. Others merely ignored his presence, leaving Cal to feel like the student who had wandered into the wrong classroom. His eyes wandered over the sea of olive green uniforms, never really snagging on a single one. So plain and uniform. There’s really nothing unique, nothing that stands out about anyone. He remembered how Lorcan used to complain about it in the passive-aggressive way that he complained. Lorcan’s career had been stunted for a long time since he got here, hindered from reaching its apex. Calverus believed, wholeheartedly, that the Shaliz’na would’ve made a fine captain, or even a commander, but such things were not meant to be. A senior lieutenant would be the highest his friend would ever be.
“You know, I once dreamed that I tasted power, real power. Good loads of it too, pooling at my fingertips, clustering in my veins. It’s like adrenaline, if you know what I mean. Sometimes, I wonder if that is what it is like to be Sith.” The Shaliz’na gazed at his calloused palms, his gaze so intent that it seemed he was watching the midichlorians all clustered beneath. “But, every actions demands a reaction. I can’t help but remember what these things demand. What it requires.” He grimaced, despite himself, “And I know we’re both Sith, but you know what? I don’t want to pay that much attention to that side of myself. I can trick myself into believing that I don’t need it. That I’m just a normal lieutenant.”
Only then did Cal realize that he really didn’t know where his friend was anymore. It bothered him more than he would like to admit. The Sith did not like unanswerable questions.
The sharp chime of a comlink jarred through the white noise of his thoughts, nearly making him jump. What the—? With fumbling fingers, he pulled it from his belt and accepted its message. He got so far as reconnaissance before the usual words flowed past his tongue without him even realizing it. “I’ll be right there, Calverus out.”
‘Oh nine hundred hours. That’s soon, that’s in - less than ten minutes.’
Lorcan’s sudden absence haunted Cal incessantly. He did not like leaving questions unanswered. ‘Or say you do know.’ Abruptly, he turned on his heels to leave, heading towards Anthony’s office on swift strides that seemed almost mechanical. The sudden jolt from past to present left him emotionally reeling, with habit guiding his steps like a puppetmaster. His thoughts chased him with every step.
The crows on the wall seemed to be haunting him again.
Posted: Tue, 11/01/2022 00:11 (2 Years ago)
chapter 2 : all of that goodness (is going with you now)
Summary:
inden.writing sample here
indent/ /
indentOr, themes to be explored.