An Unknown Insurgent.

[Hiraos Fonfala]

A tiny gold-flecked cordial in his hand, the horizon before him, and the man could merely stare at the apocalyptic world that met his observation. Long had reason fled the confines of the human experience, and despair and madness flocked like moths nestling amidst silk. There was no grace to the living world, nothing as it was in the days of his youth, and the firmly suffering eyes he bore towards it were conflicted internally to make it appear as though there was a soul buried deep within the individual’s flesh that did not extend to his face in any way. There was nothing beneath the folds of his face, every quirk of his expression hollow; it was as though the strength that frightened the world cloaked him from outside or was leaking, barely noticeable, from a wound in his chest that opened wide his heart.

“Those who endure immortality never mature; there is no ‘half-way’ point for them to exceed into the realm of security, of greatness, and it decays the very ideal of their progression. They are a limitless set of beings and a disgracefully incompetent lot, for they can never achieve to their fullest extent.”

So objective. So, so objective. How many times had they had such a conversation? How many times had the words been rephrased by the child and never applied to either of them? No matter. As long as the truth was available for acknowledgement he could be aware of it, and dodge the bullets that came. Those who had fulfilled themselves could simply be envied and vengefully surpassed – that was the nature of things. Besides – he had already fulfilled one lifetime, and that was enough. What use was there thinking on another?

Absently the King wondered at the vibrant colors of the refracting light spilling over the horizon, staining he world in a wash of brilliant fuschias, scarlet stains and pink blossoms. It was a blood-rising, the battlefield with all its gore and piqued emotions spread balefully in the sky and he mocked its own style of belittling him. He sat now in his daughter’s balcony during her absence, sitting in the chair she rushed to give him when he deigned to approach, and rested his elbow on the wooden arm with his head in his hand. The rough cut of his beard felt coarse against his skin and he wondered at how he hadn’t grayed the short hair yet, and the moderate wisps of his hair that were capable of coming into his eyes and the tawny cut looked almost orange in the light. Empty yet thoughtful, Hiraos glanced down at the tiny vial he held against his lips and, after a moment of disregard, tilted it back to empty the contents in the throat and looked as though he would retch with the taste, lurching forward slightly and pulling his hand towards his heart as his throat burned. This was life, perhaps.

Tired – how tired could a human become? He was playing in a suspended masquerade, sixty now; a remarkable age for any human of the time to survive to! And still, he was stuck in a timeless play of life and war, simply waiting for endless responsibilities to stop being provided to him. The world had come to vex him severely and the imperialist nature of conquest had soured its flavors and spited his temperaments; it was easy to scorn everything these days, and his problems did not cease there. His eyes had to be careful with such divided agents: he had his, and the people had theirs. Facists and communists battling for the same thing but unrecognizing, dear God!

Presently he rose, disregarding the light and retreating indoors as the sun peeked its head over the plains beyond, calling forth the monarch to attend to his duties. Slipping out from his daughter’s room his face twisted with a contradictory mixture of irritation and calm – the standard expression for a man of war.

I think it is time to prepare an insurgency upon my dearest kinsfolk… let us see what the future holds in store for an old shark as I why don’t we?

---

ooc:: this post was written specifically to confuse people. Interpret as you wish but let's see if anyone but Megan knows what's going on in this one. x3