Post by Samson on Nov 9, 2020 8:05:01 GMT -6
"Speech" | Samson thinks | Samael thinks
The world rose and fell around him, undulating like the sea, but Samson took little notice of it. It was the beat of his heart and its rhythmic pounding that spurred him on like a soldier marching to war, his eyes glazed over, focused only on the need to move forward ceaselessly and incessantly. If he stopped, it might all come crashing down, it might all stop, the noise in his head cutting suddenly like a frightened animal’s death shriek is abruptly interrupted by its death. If Samael fell quiet, all would be lost.
Keep going, the spirit panted, keep going, keep going, keep going.
Samson kept going, obedient as a pup but growing into the strength that came from following orders by choice rather than desperation. Samael made him stronger. He always knew what was best for him. Samson could trust that, could always trust that.
The cold air that licked at his skin changed and warped, touched here and there by pockets of heat, and Samson frowned at the thick scent of water on the breeze but trusted that Samael would not lead him astray. His father must have had something that pushed him forward, something that made Goliath the kind of emperor whose name would echo for generations. Samson suspected it was Messoria and Datura, but he could also not say for certain whether his father had loved them. He’d thought so once, when he was very young, but now Samson was not entirely sure what it meant to love someone, nor whether he’d ever done so.
Perhaps it was hate or spite or greed instead that drove Goliath. Perhaps it was just in the blood.
Was it in Samson’s blood?
The hot spring unfolded before him as he ducked out of the underbrush. The heat rose up from the surface in huge billows of steam and his aching paws itched to submerge themselves into the water. So this is where you have brought me, Samson thought sardonically, to bathe? Samael only laughed, and Samson felt himself lighten at the sensation-sound that started in his stomach and rumbled outward until he realised that he was laughing, too, and their laughter was inseparable.
Was this love?
No more questions, Samael ordered, and Samson obeyed, pressing eagerly forth to submerge his filthy, bloodied tangle of matted fur into the spring.
Word count: 391
Notes: wahoo
Tags: Lyssa
The world rose and fell around him, undulating like the sea, but Samson took little notice of it. It was the beat of his heart and its rhythmic pounding that spurred him on like a soldier marching to war, his eyes glazed over, focused only on the need to move forward ceaselessly and incessantly. If he stopped, it might all come crashing down, it might all stop, the noise in his head cutting suddenly like a frightened animal’s death shriek is abruptly interrupted by its death. If Samael fell quiet, all would be lost.
Keep going, the spirit panted, keep going, keep going, keep going.
Samson kept going, obedient as a pup but growing into the strength that came from following orders by choice rather than desperation. Samael made him stronger. He always knew what was best for him. Samson could trust that, could always trust that.
The cold air that licked at his skin changed and warped, touched here and there by pockets of heat, and Samson frowned at the thick scent of water on the breeze but trusted that Samael would not lead him astray. His father must have had something that pushed him forward, something that made Goliath the kind of emperor whose name would echo for generations. Samson suspected it was Messoria and Datura, but he could also not say for certain whether his father had loved them. He’d thought so once, when he was very young, but now Samson was not entirely sure what it meant to love someone, nor whether he’d ever done so.
Perhaps it was hate or spite or greed instead that drove Goliath. Perhaps it was just in the blood.
Was it in Samson’s blood?
The hot spring unfolded before him as he ducked out of the underbrush. The heat rose up from the surface in huge billows of steam and his aching paws itched to submerge themselves into the water. So this is where you have brought me, Samson thought sardonically, to bathe? Samael only laughed, and Samson felt himself lighten at the sensation-sound that started in his stomach and rumbled outward until he realised that he was laughing, too, and their laughter was inseparable.
Was this love?
No more questions, Samael ordered, and Samson obeyed, pressing eagerly forth to submerge his filthy, bloodied tangle of matted fur into the spring.
Word count: 391
Notes: wahoo
Tags: Lyssa
Valkyrie 
93 | 
