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+--- Thread: PRP someone like you could love me (/showthread.php?tid=11130)
someone like you could love me - Tiberii - 4/10/2026
RE: someone like you could love me - Shiloh2 - 4/11/2026
![[Image: shybadge.png]](http://magatia.net/x/shybadge.png)
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
He resisted her efforts to wake him - not because he was reluctant to greet the day or wished to ignore her, but because he could appreciate the effort and he waited to see the lengths she'd go to rouse him from his feigned slumber. Shiloh indulged in her touches and nudges, at most lolling his head in her direction under the masquerade of sleep.
It took every fiber of control in his being to suppress the grin that threatened to defy his act. He schooled his facial features with an iron will, stilling even the movement of his eyes beneath their lids. He continued playing his part until he felt her pull away and, immediately mourning the loss of her warmth and proximity, he lifted his head to follow her motions.
He rumbled his displeasure, though it wasn't a negative sentiment; he would much rather have spent the end times wrapped up in her, gathered into their den to dampen all the noise outside.
The world could continue to split, tearing itself apart from the inside out, and he could only scrounge together enough energy to care because those he cared about graced its surface. Beyond his family, there was Tiberii - so long as she breathed, this world mattered. The moment that changed was the moment his priorities shifted.
All the same, he knew death when he saw it.
This planet was in its death throes, succumbing to injuries of its own making. As if to punctuate the thought, blue light sliced through the sky and Shiloh was fairly certain he just felt the earth around him tremble.
Mayhaps a den was a bad place to be at the present moment.
With great reluctance yet the eagerness of an imprinted baby bird, Shiloh unfolded himself and followed Tiberii from their den and picked his way along her path. He paused midway there to simply admire her, stormcloud eyes committing each of her details to memory - as if he hadn't etched them there endless times before. If the memory were a photo, it would be faded from the constant brushes of his thumb over its surface.
He heard her words, but silence spanned as he remained rooted to the spot. Wind shuffled fingers through her fur, shifting the dark strands backlit by the ominous blue lights. They were a symptom of the end of days, the death all around them made manifest; but here, cast across her form, he didn't hate the view. Tiberii was one of the last living things in this godsforsaken world, a blessed breath to parched lungs.
This was it - these were the final days of on inhospitable planet that would sooner tear itself asunder than permit them to exist upon its surface. The thought should have filled him with a certain hollowness, but all of those spaces were filled with the woman ahead of him.
As long as the end of days was spent at her side, he would lament only that there weren't more days - but no time would ever be enough, would it? He could be in possession of all the time that existed in this world, the next, and any to follow, and he would still come up short of what he wanted.
A knight, he knew time was a precious thing; the only promise at the very first breath of life is that there would one day come a time when those breaths stopped, that heart stopped beating. When one was thrown into the chaos of war, it was even more obvious.
Shiloh had died once already, after all - what was one more? At least he gained more in this life than he had in the last. That was something, it had to be. He couldn't linger on all the things he hadn't accomplished, on all he would never experience. These final moments had to be enough, and they were as long as she was here.
He pressed into movement once more, holding Tiberii's gaze until he was at her side. His crimson coat twined into hers as his side settled flush against her, his muzzle tilted to brush his nose to her chin.
He inched his muzzle away from her to observe the world ahead of them, eyes following another jag of lightning.
That's what this was; a prolonged affliction as the universe limped and crawled toward its eventual finish line, dragging them every step of the way.
It took every fiber of control in his being to suppress the grin that threatened to defy his act. He schooled his facial features with an iron will, stilling even the movement of his eyes beneath their lids. He continued playing his part until he felt her pull away and, immediately mourning the loss of her warmth and proximity, he lifted his head to follow her motions.
He rumbled his displeasure, though it wasn't a negative sentiment; he would much rather have spent the end times wrapped up in her, gathered into their den to dampen all the noise outside.
The world could continue to split, tearing itself apart from the inside out, and he could only scrounge together enough energy to care because those he cared about graced its surface. Beyond his family, there was Tiberii - so long as she breathed, this world mattered. The moment that changed was the moment his priorities shifted.
All the same, he knew death when he saw it.
This planet was in its death throes, succumbing to injuries of its own making. As if to punctuate the thought, blue light sliced through the sky and Shiloh was fairly certain he just felt the earth around him tremble.
Mayhaps a den was a bad place to be at the present moment.
With great reluctance yet the eagerness of an imprinted baby bird, Shiloh unfolded himself and followed Tiberii from their den and picked his way along her path. He paused midway there to simply admire her, stormcloud eyes committing each of her details to memory - as if he hadn't etched them there endless times before. If the memory were a photo, it would be faded from the constant brushes of his thumb over its surface.
He heard her words, but silence spanned as he remained rooted to the spot. Wind shuffled fingers through her fur, shifting the dark strands backlit by the ominous blue lights. They were a symptom of the end of days, the death all around them made manifest; but here, cast across her form, he didn't hate the view. Tiberii was one of the last living things in this godsforsaken world, a blessed breath to parched lungs.
This was it - these were the final days of on inhospitable planet that would sooner tear itself asunder than permit them to exist upon its surface. The thought should have filled him with a certain hollowness, but all of those spaces were filled with the woman ahead of him.
As long as the end of days was spent at her side, he would lament only that there weren't more days - but no time would ever be enough, would it? He could be in possession of all the time that existed in this world, the next, and any to follow, and he would still come up short of what he wanted.
A knight, he knew time was a precious thing; the only promise at the very first breath of life is that there would one day come a time when those breaths stopped, that heart stopped beating. When one was thrown into the chaos of war, it was even more obvious.
Shiloh had died once already, after all - what was one more? At least he gained more in this life than he had in the last. That was something, it had to be. He couldn't linger on all the things he hadn't accomplished, on all he would never experience. These final moments had to be enough, and they were as long as she was here.
He pressed into movement once more, holding Tiberii's gaze until he was at her side. His crimson coat twined into hers as his side settled flush against her, his muzzle tilted to brush his nose to her chin.
I always thought it would come all at once - like a tidal wave,he offered.
Here one moment an' swept away th' next. So quick we wouldn't see it comin', an' wouldn't even know what happened.
He inched his muzzle away from her to observe the world ahead of them, eyes following another jag of lightning.
When I died in Talamh, it was swift. I could barely process it before I went dark an' was brought here,he went on.
I expected when existence one day ended, it would be something like that - not a lingerin' illness like this.
That's what this was; a prolonged affliction as the universe limped and crawled toward its eventual finish line, dragging them every step of the way.
RE: someone like you could love me - Tiberii - 4/13/2026
RE: someone like you could love me - Shiloh2 - 4/13/2026
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
They were always drawn to the other - they were two forces, large enough in the other's world to impose a gravitational pull. He was powerless to resist the hook she had in him and he permitted - welcomed - her to lean against him as much as she wished.
It was as much a comfort to him as it was to her.
His perusal of the dying world was marked with idle thoughts and considerations; there wasn't exactly a manual for how to embrace the end of the world and it left him with a certain level of detachment in the macrocosm. A life lived on borrowed moments and ticking clocks had left him hardened to his own demise, but others' he had carried with him across time and space. Shiloh could remember every knight he lost in the wars, and he mourned them even now in knowing he left some of them - some who may not have perished, had he stayed - to die in his absence. It wasn't a thought crafted from ego but the vacuum he knew was left behind by a guard without a leader.
Wartime was not the ideal setting for a change in leadership. He knew that when he made his decision, but he still made it.
He should, but he didn't regret it - couldn't find it in himself to do so. It probably made him a bastard of the highest caliber and damned his soul to never feel the light of absolution, but something in him was fundamentally broken and pieced back together by Tiberii's expert hand; she patched each crack and imperfection in her likeness and he would have it no other way. For once, he didn't want to run full tilt toward his own demise for some sense of duty and importance he couldn't find elsewhere.
Being at her side was purpose enough. He would protect her and those they both cared about, but he had lost his appetite for justice in the greater sense. His teeth no longer ached to put others in their place as he once had. The lion wanted to protect his peace and, more specifically, Tiberii's. He no longer desired to fight wars, to champion the whims and deigns of others.
Her words stopped his thoughts short.
His gaze rested on her fully now, the quaking world forgotten in favor of the woman beside him. Shiloh allowed her to shrink into herself, but only for a handful of heartbeats as he watched her carefully. He analyzed the woman like he might a bomb, pondering how to defuse it before it blew up in his hands.
He was reminded of his oaths of past; his fear of attachment came from the visceral reluctance to leave behind those who could mourn him. Shiloh had given up the hopes of having a family like his parents' and the moment he opened the door to such a sentiment, the world began to die all around him.
The evidence of its disease was everywhere he looked, etched in ethereal and foreboding blue light spilling from core-deep fractures and a sky darker than night.
It seemed his life was something of a cosmic joke; he was yanked across universes multiple times and offered a life far removed from his first just to have everything he let himself finally have pulled from his hands.
Perhaps it was a punishment - a reminder that he shouldn't entertain such selfishness. But he didn't care.
The universe could fall apart at the seams for all he cared, but he would clutch to what - who - he had until his dying breath that seemed to inch closer with each second. It would not keep him from Tiberii's side until whatever came next called upon them both.
Shiloh swallowed around the lump in his throat, batting down the hatches on the prickling sensation that gathered behind his eyes. They had faced every natural disaster this world could think to throw at them, and now this. How did one fend off the apocalypse?
It was as much a comfort to him as it was to her.
His perusal of the dying world was marked with idle thoughts and considerations; there wasn't exactly a manual for how to embrace the end of the world and it left him with a certain level of detachment in the macrocosm. A life lived on borrowed moments and ticking clocks had left him hardened to his own demise, but others' he had carried with him across time and space. Shiloh could remember every knight he lost in the wars, and he mourned them even now in knowing he left some of them - some who may not have perished, had he stayed - to die in his absence. It wasn't a thought crafted from ego but the vacuum he knew was left behind by a guard without a leader.
Wartime was not the ideal setting for a change in leadership. He knew that when he made his decision, but he still made it.
He should, but he didn't regret it - couldn't find it in himself to do so. It probably made him a bastard of the highest caliber and damned his soul to never feel the light of absolution, but something in him was fundamentally broken and pieced back together by Tiberii's expert hand; she patched each crack and imperfection in her likeness and he would have it no other way. For once, he didn't want to run full tilt toward his own demise for some sense of duty and importance he couldn't find elsewhere.
Being at her side was purpose enough. He would protect her and those they both cared about, but he had lost his appetite for justice in the greater sense. His teeth no longer ached to put others in their place as he once had. The lion wanted to protect his peace and, more specifically, Tiberii's. He no longer desired to fight wars, to champion the whims and deigns of others.
Her words stopped his thoughts short.
His gaze rested on her fully now, the quaking world forgotten in favor of the woman beside him. Shiloh allowed her to shrink into herself, but only for a handful of heartbeats as he watched her carefully. He analyzed the woman like he might a bomb, pondering how to defuse it before it blew up in his hands.
I'm glad ye haven't,Shiloh admitted as softly as she had spoken, the words possessing no condescension or judgement. He meant them - the thought of Tiberii dying, even hypothetically, made it feel like his soul might wither into nothingness. It was bad enough she had mourned him while he was in another world and not even dead - knowing she had been pained by that absence set teeth of guilt in his neck.
He was reminded of his oaths of past; his fear of attachment came from the visceral reluctance to leave behind those who could mourn him. Shiloh had given up the hopes of having a family like his parents' and the moment he opened the door to such a sentiment, the world began to die all around him.
The evidence of its disease was everywhere he looked, etched in ethereal and foreboding blue light spilling from core-deep fractures and a sky darker than night.
It seemed his life was something of a cosmic joke; he was yanked across universes multiple times and offered a life far removed from his first just to have everything he let himself finally have pulled from his hands.
Perhaps it was a punishment - a reminder that he shouldn't entertain such selfishness. But he didn't care.
The universe could fall apart at the seams for all he cared, but he would clutch to what - who - he had until his dying breath that seemed to inch closer with each second. It would not keep him from Tiberii's side until whatever came next called upon them both.
Ye aren't alone,he told her as he leaned in toward her again, using his muzzle to draw her own away from her chest, unfolding her to pull her closer if she didn't resist the motion. Their jagged edges were meant to be pieced together.
Whatever happens next, we face it together, aye? We've walked through fire, trekked through blizzards, and lived through nightmares - this trial is no different.
Shiloh swallowed around the lump in his throat, batting down the hatches on the prickling sensation that gathered behind his eyes. They had faced every natural disaster this world could think to throw at them, and now this. How did one fend off the apocalypse?
I'll be here, right beside ye,he assured her, his voice woven through with stalwart determination.
RE: someone like you could love me - Tiberii - 4/13/2026
RE: someone like you could love me - Shiloh2 - 4/15/2026
SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )
At the end of days, the dwindling of moments, they were two comets on a collision course for heartbreak. Not for the conventional reasons, but for the expiration date that hung above them in each jag of unnatural lightning, every rumble of an aching earth, and the pulse of churning light flooding their feet from the fissures below them.
Shiloh always knew he would die young - he already had, once - and there was a certain level of numbness he afforded the idea. But the bundle of scar tissue couldn't keep the next, unexpected wound from finding purchase in the very rind of his soul. His own life was something he had long struggled to find value for, but as he studied the interlacing fur of his coat and Tiberii's, he knew he stood to lose so much more than that this time.
He wouldn't die in the name of the greater good this time; he wouldn't go out in a blaze of glory or something meaningful. The extinguishment of his life would be a muted cry swallowed up by nothingness for all the meaning it had in the grand scheme of things. But not even that sting registered against the crescendo of turmoil at the thought of losing Tiberii - that each moment inched them closer to a time when he would have her no more, at least not in this life.
If there was another waiting for them after this.
It was too much to hope for to bargain with the gods as his parents had, to sacrifice one life in exchange for every timeline that came after it. They had reunited hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions of times without having ever known it - they still wouldn't know it, had his mother not discovered the memory keeper that responded only to moon children. Through it, she had uncovered bits and pieces that paved the way to a distant understanding of what her very first iteration gave up.
She gave her life for theirs, for a prophecy to right the failings of the gods, to restore a balance Epona had no hand in disturbing in the first place.
Shiloh would take the same deal a hundred times over. As much as he despised the gods and their flagrant disregard toward the suffering of mortalkind for their capricious whims, he would play their games and dance to their tunes if it meant he would find his way back to Tiberii's side time and time again.
He knew what her acquiesce cost her as the wolf beside him allowed his touch to guide her, to pull her tide into his own. It was clear upon her face when the brewing stormclouds of his eyes met her molten gold ones and his heart clenched with the inability to steal her pain, her fear away from her. All he could do was be a bastion in the maelstrom surrounding her, cutting through as much of it as he could.
Time was not something he could shake a sword at. He couldn't intimidate it, he couldn't chase its end away; it was untouchable and he was impotent beneath its crushing weight. Like Tiberii, he was reduced to flesh and blood and bone.
And that - that scared him.
Shiloh did not understand the word "helpless." He operated on his sense of fixing problems by any means necessary for causes that mattered. Tiberii mattered, and he could do nothing of substance. He could simply be. It was not unlike the quiet vigil his family held over their livestock who were not long for their world, but he couldn't compartmentalize this loss so well.
There was no balm strong enough to steal away the dread of what the first moment of recognizing she was gone would feel like. The mere idea gutted him. He prayed to any power that would tip its ear to him that it would take them both at the same time, because selfish bastard that he was, he still couldn't ask her to endure another loss, even for a moment.
He hoped she would never know such a pain again; he didn't want either of them to know how it felt to miss the other ever again.
Shiloh held her gaze despite the pain, the helplessness it brought out in him. He allowed her question to hang, to sink into his skin like the cut of a blade.
He could lie to her, he could tell her that everything would be alright. But it wouldn't be, not really, not for them; for those who possessed the bond like theirs, there was no positive outcome for them in the apocalypse.
But if he lied, he did her a disservice. She deserved his honesty, for him to bare his own soul as much she had her own. The plate mail shifted, groaning with soul-deep resistance as he reached for the parts of himself he didn't show to the light of day. The parts of him that defied his bravado, that exposed his vulnerabilities and fears and the darker parts, too - the bits and pieces he tamped down into packed earth for fear of what they revealed about his true character.
In these final hours, none of that mattered enough to hide it. There was clarity in knowing the moments were borrowed and the time for fate to call in its favor was nigh.
It was a sweet surrender, he supposed. A weightlessness that tried to offset the anguish of impending loss, but that still lived within his ribs with far too much density for him to swallow it down completely even as it was split between the two of them, pain for pain.
He swallowed around the boulder wedged in his throat.
The pain lacing her utterance of his name was enough to be his undoing. It plucked at the shambles of him, carrion birds besieging him before death even arrived. Her sheen of tears and the challenge he found within her eyes was a twisting knife, knowing he put both there; she had lost him when the Veil tore him back to his life before, but by the gods, he fought it every step of the way. He wore himself ragged to find his way back to her - but all of it felt like an excuse.
Failure was bitter on his tongue, for that is what his inability to remain within Mythris had been: failure. If he hadn't been so foolhardy and tried to kill the bear himself, perhaps none of it would have even happened - maybe he would have never left, and they would have spent the past several months together like they were supposed to.
But he made an error in judgement; the deliverance of his failure had been swift and true. It knew precisely where to aim its strike to do the most damage.
He wasn't the only one run through on its blade, however - it was Tiberii whose pain he could never repent for.
When she moved into him, he answered in kind - as automatic as the rise and fall of his chest, the intake and exhalation of his lungs. He needed her like this world needed the sun, and if he went a single moment without her, he was certain it would all come crashing down at last.
She waged her challenge and he met it, his nose a gentle touch against her cheek as it coasted through her silver and black fur. He breathed her in, pulling the signature deep into his lungs as if making it a part of himself might keep the both of them there longer.
His teeth gently grazed the thin cartilage of her ears, a nip of pain quickly assuaged by the warm curl of his breath.
Shiloh always knew he would die young - he already had, once - and there was a certain level of numbness he afforded the idea. But the bundle of scar tissue couldn't keep the next, unexpected wound from finding purchase in the very rind of his soul. His own life was something he had long struggled to find value for, but as he studied the interlacing fur of his coat and Tiberii's, he knew he stood to lose so much more than that this time.
He wouldn't die in the name of the greater good this time; he wouldn't go out in a blaze of glory or something meaningful. The extinguishment of his life would be a muted cry swallowed up by nothingness for all the meaning it had in the grand scheme of things. But not even that sting registered against the crescendo of turmoil at the thought of losing Tiberii - that each moment inched them closer to a time when he would have her no more, at least not in this life.
If there was another waiting for them after this.
It was too much to hope for to bargain with the gods as his parents had, to sacrifice one life in exchange for every timeline that came after it. They had reunited hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions of times without having ever known it - they still wouldn't know it, had his mother not discovered the memory keeper that responded only to moon children. Through it, she had uncovered bits and pieces that paved the way to a distant understanding of what her very first iteration gave up.
She gave her life for theirs, for a prophecy to right the failings of the gods, to restore a balance Epona had no hand in disturbing in the first place.
Shiloh would take the same deal a hundred times over. As much as he despised the gods and their flagrant disregard toward the suffering of mortalkind for their capricious whims, he would play their games and dance to their tunes if it meant he would find his way back to Tiberii's side time and time again.
He knew what her acquiesce cost her as the wolf beside him allowed his touch to guide her, to pull her tide into his own. It was clear upon her face when the brewing stormclouds of his eyes met her molten gold ones and his heart clenched with the inability to steal her pain, her fear away from her. All he could do was be a bastion in the maelstrom surrounding her, cutting through as much of it as he could.
Time was not something he could shake a sword at. He couldn't intimidate it, he couldn't chase its end away; it was untouchable and he was impotent beneath its crushing weight. Like Tiberii, he was reduced to flesh and blood and bone.
And that - that scared him.
Shiloh did not understand the word "helpless." He operated on his sense of fixing problems by any means necessary for causes that mattered. Tiberii mattered, and he could do nothing of substance. He could simply be. It was not unlike the quiet vigil his family held over their livestock who were not long for their world, but he couldn't compartmentalize this loss so well.
There was no balm strong enough to steal away the dread of what the first moment of recognizing she was gone would feel like. The mere idea gutted him. He prayed to any power that would tip its ear to him that it would take them both at the same time, because selfish bastard that he was, he still couldn't ask her to endure another loss, even for a moment.
He hoped she would never know such a pain again; he didn't want either of them to know how it felt to miss the other ever again.
Shiloh held her gaze despite the pain, the helplessness it brought out in him. He allowed her question to hang, to sink into his skin like the cut of a blade.
He could lie to her, he could tell her that everything would be alright. But it wouldn't be, not really, not for them; for those who possessed the bond like theirs, there was no positive outcome for them in the apocalypse.
But if he lied, he did her a disservice. She deserved his honesty, for him to bare his own soul as much she had her own. The plate mail shifted, groaning with soul-deep resistance as he reached for the parts of himself he didn't show to the light of day. The parts of him that defied his bravado, that exposed his vulnerabilities and fears and the darker parts, too - the bits and pieces he tamped down into packed earth for fear of what they revealed about his true character.
In these final hours, none of that mattered enough to hide it. There was clarity in knowing the moments were borrowed and the time for fate to call in its favor was nigh.
It was a sweet surrender, he supposed. A weightlessness that tried to offset the anguish of impending loss, but that still lived within his ribs with far too much density for him to swallow it down completely even as it was split between the two of them, pain for pain.
I know you're scared,he said in little more than a whisper, his own voice rough around the edges.
I am, too.The admission was like speaking around rocks, each syllable torn from his tongue but offered freely.
I remember what it's like, but that's doesn't mean I will ever be ready.
He swallowed around the boulder wedged in his throat.
There is nothin' that could ever make me ready t'lose ye,his voice was thin, a breath masquerading as a string of words and pressed through a too-tight throat.
The pain lacing her utterance of his name was enough to be his undoing. It plucked at the shambles of him, carrion birds besieging him before death even arrived. Her sheen of tears and the challenge he found within her eyes was a twisting knife, knowing he put both there; she had lost him when the Veil tore him back to his life before, but by the gods, he fought it every step of the way. He wore himself ragged to find his way back to her - but all of it felt like an excuse.
Failure was bitter on his tongue, for that is what his inability to remain within Mythris had been: failure. If he hadn't been so foolhardy and tried to kill the bear himself, perhaps none of it would have even happened - maybe he would have never left, and they would have spent the past several months together like they were supposed to.
But he made an error in judgement; the deliverance of his failure had been swift and true. It knew precisely where to aim its strike to do the most damage.
He wasn't the only one run through on its blade, however - it was Tiberii whose pain he could never repent for.
There is nowhere I want t'be other than with ye,Shiloh promised, his brows bunching as he held her gaze captive, hoping she would see the truth residing there.
There's no air when I'm without you.
When she moved into him, he answered in kind - as automatic as the rise and fall of his chest, the intake and exhalation of his lungs. He needed her like this world needed the sun, and if he went a single moment without her, he was certain it would all come crashing down at last.
She waged her challenge and he met it, his nose a gentle touch against her cheek as it coasted through her silver and black fur. He breathed her in, pulling the signature deep into his lungs as if making it a part of himself might keep the both of them there longer.
Every moment I have is yours,his words were an oath as his muzzle rested at the shell of her ear, a branding promise he would carve into his own skin if it meant she would see the earnestness in them.
Whatever time I have left belongs t'you. It always has, an' it always will.
His teeth gently grazed the thin cartilage of her ears, a nip of pain quickly assuaged by the warm curl of his breath.
There is nothin' for me without ye in it.