ORIGIN - A Fallen Prince

It had been… so long since Alexander had had a… coherent thought, it seemed. Since losing his father, and going into a Deep Sleep for a cycle, he had woken up completely different from the way he had been before. He’d done nothing but eat, shit, and sleep. His fur was matted and disheveled and his hazel-brown eyes had barely a lick of sense in them. He had become a beast, no better than a lesser Gembound. He had no idea what had snapped him out of it, for he’d been this way eight cycles or more, but something had clicked in his head. Now it was as if he were waking up after a long nightmare.

He looked himself over and found his stench revolting. The smell of old blood was everywhere on him. Apparently, he hadn’t been keeping himself clean. His father would be ashamed… His… father… Alexander could barely remember the tiny bird whom he had once called Father. At this point, he assumed Adeyemi was long-since dead. And the lion’s Knight and Prince training seemed so long ago, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to be gentlemanly any longer. He didn’t even remember who his friends were. Had he had any friends before? Maybe he’d imagined all those conversations with other Gembounds… Maybe… Maybe he’d imagined his own father.

Well, if that was the case, what was the point in being anymore than an animal? Severely disheartened, Alexander slumped back down to the ground and fell asleep…

Words: 255

The days became in incoherent blur, not that Remedy cared at all. Each morning faded into evening and back into morning as fluidly as the tide might shift over the sands on a foreign beach and she felt no desire to rediscover hours and minutes again. No, eternity was perfect- because eternity was spent in her twin's constant connection. Oh, how wonderous this magic was, and too often Remedy found herself indulging, getting drunk off its pull as if sipping from some alcoholic sludge.

Even today, as she rested amongst the groves of Eridanus, she found herself unattentive, focused instead of the subtle emotions she could feel from Cure, and sending fleeting messages to the feline in turn, ever present, ever dedicated.

Movement nearby. Unceremoniously, Remedy startled from her daze and became alert, irate. Ah, there it was, the disturbance- a lion. Of course it is. She stood and stretched and flared her wings and took flight from her high perch of a grove to settle beside his newly fallen body, curious.

"Hey, buddy, y'can't sleep here. There's a pack and a violent beastie in this cave and neither are liable to leave you in peace." And to her twin, she sent a warning; an attempt at the image before her, his fallen form, the gemstone paldron, the golden colors, the word 'lion' and the feeling of her own irritation because, yet again, lions were falling like stones all around her and she was left to clean up their hairy messes. Whatever Cure saw in these hairy, lazy beasts was well beyond the bird.

"Cure Speech" 'Cure Thoughts' | "Remedy Speech" 'Remedy Thoughts' | 'Incoming' 'Outgoing'

OoC: Remedy's starting to get an impression about lions. |D
Tags: @Alexander @Cure

Alexander awoke with a start out of his depressed slumber, snarling, tail lashing, teeth bared, hazel-brown eyes staring down at whatever had awoken him. But all of that only lasted a moment or two, before suddenly his vision cleared, his mind became less hazy. And then he shrunk into himself out of shame, backing up away from the one who had interrupted his nap. “Please… forgive me,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and rather quiet from lack of use. “I —” he coughed, the action of speaking causing his throat to itch. “I have… lost my social graces. I have… avoided contact with Greater Gembounds for many cycles. I…”

At this point, he was at a loss for words and stared for but a second into the eyes of the one he had probably terrified and/or horribly offended. Then he looked quickly away, down at the ground, still hunched to make himself seem smaller. “Was there… something you needed?” It was odd, stepping back into this role of well-trained Prince and Squire. He was no longer either of those things, and yet it was the only role he knew to take on when around others, even though it had been eight cycles.

He was very aware of his disgusting appearance, his tangled mane, bloody maw… And for the first time in a long time, he was ashamed of himself. So why, if it had been so long since he had last had a coherent thought, did this shame feel so close to him, as if he’d been feeling it his whole life…?

Words: 264 @Remedy @Cure