Red Dawn

This area is unmoderated. Please click on "Forum Rules" at the top of this page or go to the "Unmoderated Areas" forum to see the rules for playing here.
Malcolm
Posts: 1099
Joined: Tue Mar 29, 2016 6:11 am
Race: Naerikk
Renown: 179
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Partner
Personal Journal
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

Events

Red Dawn

Image
73 Zi'da 327
There was a crack in the kitchen window that let the cool winter chill inside. It stretched from one corner of the lower left quarter of the window, all the way to the top on the right-hand-side. Malcolm rung out a cloth and watched as tainted water whirled away down the drain, his hands painted red. Outside the doctor's horses stood below the tree-line, still tethered to the carriage where they had remained all night, warmed under blankets now dusted with fresh snow.
The first fingers of light unfurled upon the horizon, warm light filtered through the skeleton trees. A small wren flittered back and forth along one of the icy tree branches, his breast burning red in the light of a new dawn. On the stovetop above the fireplace, an iron kettle, as black as soot, whistled. The Mortalborn's breath hung in the air like a silver phantom before spiralling skyward as it mingled with the heat in the room, and a tired scream broke the silence of an otherwise blissful morning.
The doctor took the clean rag and hot water from Malcolm as he returned to the room. "One more push, Ava," the greying man encouraged, his brow wet with sweat and a smudged, bloody fingerprint on the edge of his nose marked where he had scratched an itch.
The woman reached for Malcolm, and the man dumb with exhaustion, fumbled for her hands. He sat down on the edge of the bed and bowed to wrap his arms around the woman, who squeezed him tightly, bearing down. Her breath was hot against his neck, and her hair laced with sweat, clung to the side of his face. Avari's strength was gone, her skin clammy and pale, and eyes red from sobbing. She cried out, the guttural sound ringing in the man's ear, only to be swallowed up in the silence that followed.
The smell of blood was so thick in the air that Malcolm could almost taste it, sharp and metallic in his mouth. It burned in his nostrils, stinging his senses. A warm hand slipped down the length of his arm and Malcolm sat up to find Ava weak, and though relief was etched across her features, the small knot in her brow signified only pain.
"Do you want to hold him?" The doctor murmured.
"No," Ava managed before closing her eyes to rest.
Malcolm reached out for his son and drew the wrapped child close. He was tiny, coloured purple and blue, weightless in the man's arms. His skin was thin and transparent, and covered in a greasy white substance that made him appear almost waxy.
"He's-"
"Stillborn," the doctor nodded. "It's not uncommon for this type of thing to lead to a premature birth."
"Will Ava be all right?"
"Lots of rest," the man ordered gently.
"Thank you, doctor."
word count: 489
Malcolm
Posts: 1099
Joined: Tue Mar 29, 2016 6:11 am
Race: Naerikk
Renown: 179
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Partner
Personal Journal
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

Events

Red Dawn

Image
Ava wouldn't allow the man to bury their boy on the farm. "I don't need to be reminded," she had told him. "He is none but flesh and bone, lifeless and without name."
But they had named him in jest, when the promise of new life had not yet been soured by the knowledge of his passing, before the small child inside of Ava's womb has stopped kicking, and turning, or moving about whenever they sung. Ava had wanted to call him Malachi, while Malcolm had chosen the name Emerson, were they to be blessed with a girl.
The doctor had taken him away and the pair were left with the mess, their pain, and the sense that something was missing, that a piece had been taken from each of them. Their sorrow was a broken cup, useless and starving, but it didn't matter how much love and attention they poured into it during the following hours, days, weeks, and seasons, nothing would fill the void, and so it was forgotten.
They did not speak about Malachi, or refer to him in any shape or form. Where silence had once symbolised the ease they felt in each other's company, now it only inspired frustration and anger. Ava would snap and shout that it wasn't her fault, and no matter the encouragement or support Malcolm had to offer, the woman struggled to find peace.
There was no comfort for Ava in Malcolm's arms, and her cold looks drove him to solitude. The man would take long walks in the woods or busy himself with chores. Trips to the local village grew longer, until he found himself spending days away from home rather than hours.
Ava confronted the man late one evening as to where he wandered and why he was always gone so long.
"I'm leaving you." A reply offered with little hesitation. "It's time for me to go home."
word count: 328
User avatar
Incubus
Prophet of Old
Posts: 734
Joined: Thu Aug 18, 2016 1:33 pm
Race: Mer
Profession: Storyteller - Rank 2
Renown: 0
Office
Personal Journal
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

Staff

Red Dawn

Image
Malcolm


Knowledge
Basic
Malachi, Stillborn
Ava: Desolation driven by loss
Grief Can Kill Love

Specific
Medicine: The Process of Childbirth
Medicine: Premature Birth

Loot: None
Injuries: None, unless you count heartbreak.
Fame: None

Story 5/5
Collaboration 0/5
Structure 5/5

Comments: Somber. Well written and accomplishes what it intends to!
Image
word count: 52
Locked Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Western: Ne'haer”