Malice
Steam parted above an isolated Maena spring as a serrated shard of obsidian skipped across its aqueous surface. Stygian speck disappeared into the steamy haze that collapsed upon itself. It could have been the farthest one Zaavik had thrown all day, or perhaps not. Listlessly, he snapped another fragment off the larger mineral and hurled it across the geothermal mere, entirely unmoved by the prospect of besting his distance. Not like he'd be able to tell anyway. The steam was thicker than Denon smog after a few meters.
Maena's signature gray overcast left Zaavik as spiritless and lackadaisical as an uneventful evening promised to make most. Wistfully, he sighed, threw another sliver of obsidian skipping across the spring. In that final hurl, the activity lost all contents of stimulations. Zaavik had become jaded to even the simplest recreation in what had to be record time. Rigidity absconded from his back muscles, left him to fall supine onto the rock, legs still dangling from the cliff that kept his feet just above the spring water.
Featureless gray clouds gave his regard a cold welcome. His stare could have punctured a hole through to the stars. Zaavik laid in blasé silence for what what might have been hours, though was more likely minutes. Unrestricted, his mind wandered across any and every grievance, to-do, and frustration. As if lying on the rock didn't make it hard enough to relax. Deep inhaled followed an exhale pointed to blow a stray hair out of his newly fitted artifical eye.
"You ever wonder where this is all going?" he finally asked, internal contemplations getting the better of him. His head rolled against the stone, craned inversely to where Aradia was sitting. His face sagged with premature lethargy, creating a false pretense for a nap. "It's always gonna be more of the same, isn't it? Win or lose this chit always seems like it goes back to square one." A crisis of faith for the second side now. Illusions consistently had the endurance of glass.
"How am I supposed to commit when all roads go nowhere? You ever feel, I dunno, like you're in a loop?"
Maena's signature gray overcast left Zaavik as spiritless and lackadaisical as an uneventful evening promised to make most. Wistfully, he sighed, threw another sliver of obsidian skipping across the spring. In that final hurl, the activity lost all contents of stimulations. Zaavik had become jaded to even the simplest recreation in what had to be record time. Rigidity absconded from his back muscles, left him to fall supine onto the rock, legs still dangling from the cliff that kept his feet just above the spring water.
Featureless gray clouds gave his regard a cold welcome. His stare could have punctured a hole through to the stars. Zaavik laid in blasé silence for what what might have been hours, though was more likely minutes. Unrestricted, his mind wandered across any and every grievance, to-do, and frustration. As if lying on the rock didn't make it hard enough to relax. Deep inhaled followed an exhale pointed to blow a stray hair out of his newly fitted artifical eye.
"You ever wonder where this is all going?" he finally asked, internal contemplations getting the better of him. His head rolled against the stone, craned inversely to where Aradia was sitting. His face sagged with premature lethargy, creating a false pretense for a nap. "It's always gonna be more of the same, isn't it? Win or lose this chit always seems like it goes back to square one." A crisis of faith for the second side now. Illusions consistently had the endurance of glass.
"How am I supposed to commit when all roads go nowhere? You ever feel, I dunno, like you're in a loop?"
