.:Even.In.Death (Beowulf)

[Nira Adib]

Dusk. The sky was blood red as the sun was setting on the horizon. The breeze was cool against the skin as the temperature began dropping. It was rather...sad. Her skin was unaffected by the temperature. The only thing that truly affected her were her emotions, and right now she was overtaken by sorrow.  

The jackal spirit had traced Beowulf to this side of the city. To these fields actually, but he was nowhere to be seen... She was his mother, and for years she has tried to find her son without success. Nira was beginning to lose hope, those dazzling green eyes of her holding a quiet, bitter sadness. She was beautiful, long ebony hair, light green eyes, delicate frame, feminine face...with an exotic air to it. She was Lebanese after all. She was in fact 62 years old, but looked 26, for that was when she was murdered. She used her last moments to attach herself to this world...becoming a ghost.  

She sat down and sighed heavily. "Nira." A male voice called out. A man materialized. He was tall, fair hair, blue eyes, handsome... He walked towards her. "I've got nothing, I am sorry." She turned to look at him with a mournful gaze. "Me neither..." He walked closer and kneeled in front of her. "You look exhausted..." Nira offered him a weak, little smile. "Don't worry about me Buraq. I am just a little tired." But Buraq knew better. She was using way too much of her spiritual powers to find her son.  

This was Buraq, a spirit that bounded with Nira. As long as Nira remains in his world, so will he. They are really close, not just a spirit and its spirit master, but more than that. Really good friends. Buraq is not the ghost of a former man, but was always a spirit. A creature born in a different realm, the realm of spirits, with magic different than the one seen in this world. Through his bonding with Nira he is able to be in this earthly realm while freely being able to cross back and forth from the light. Nira died, but she didn't go through The Light, she decided to stay in this world in order to find her son, instead of becoming a spirit herself and join him the The Light. Then he'd stay, and help her, until she can find peace.  

And what bonds them...is a tattoo on each other's back. If the marking was to be broken, Buraq would be vanished from this world. Strong spirits like him can't just freely come and go, they need a vessel, and Nira was his. Even now as a ghost, she was still in this world, though she was his connection to it. But he had lost interest in helping maintain balance on this realm the moment his master died, for they no longer belonged here. His one intention now was to help her soul.  

"Stay here and rest, I'll find the jackal and look some more before heading home." The spirit said, vanishing. "Thank you." She muttered, feeling a tear run down her cheek before brushing it off.  

My son...where are you...  

ooc:: First post with Nira. Ready to go. 

outfit:: [x]

[Beowulf Mustafa]

from nothing we have risen and from nothing we still rise

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Like a lion in the wild, it watched its prey; seeking out its weaknesses and waiting for the right opportune moment to strike. The lion in this case was Beowulf and his prey was a man… That he has been watching for two days… It was normal for assassins to ‘stalk’ their prey on a daily basis rather than receive the contract, find the perk, and kill them where they lay. Sometimes he did the latter but most of the time he hunted. What was the point of killing if you didn’t do it flawlessly? Sometimes killing someone right then and there in their own home wasn’t such a good idea. Witnesses, cameras, detectors, and a lot more could help persecute the man. However, taking your time and seeing not one thing to stand in your way… That would be the opportune moment. Whether it was at home, in a gas station parking lot, an alleyway, or even in a wild party… Once it presented itself too you and the coast was ‘clear’ per se, the time to act was then. Never later. When an opportunity presented itself, you had to strike and take it. For if you don’t chances are it will be long lost.

For a nice day like today, not many people were out… And his prey… This man walked into a park. The man had an envelope on the inside of his suit jacket and was suppose to meet up with someone there. The man was one of those people that left early and arrived early – just in case anything happened, he had time to spare. Beowulf lurked about the landscape – making sure no other assassins or other thugs were around spying on the man – to kill him or to protect him. The place was barren like his family life. There was no security cameras nearby… The only ones that Beowulf knew of were by the courts and the other by the pool area… The park had no other security cameras out. So this place was perfect for the man. A perfect spot to strike…

Bright blue eyes just like the ocean watched the man in secrecy as he entered the park. Beowulf followed him but entered in another entrance on the other side since he was by the first camera of the place. The man ventured further from what Beowulf could see, sense, hear, and smell before the man stopped by a tree… Sneaking around some other trees, the man soon looked around and soon vanished in some tall grass. The park was beautiful. It wasn’t like the one in the city – it held more nature than activities. So this was a perfect area to strike.

Beowulf sensed something nearby but it was out of eye range and he knew it… After just a minute, Beowulf slipped into the tall grass as well; keeping lower and listening to the man before him continue to talk. It sounded like he was taking a shot-cut through the tall grass to the lake – where some seats resided… Instead of walking all the way around. Fool… Sneaking up faster, Beowulf moved with the man’s footsteps. When he moved, Beowulf moved. When he stopped, Beowulf stopped and remained hidden. It was until the man’s pace started to slow down that Beowulf finally stroke.

With haste, the man ran at the other man. Just before he could turn his head to the side to see what the noise was, Beowulf was already on him and the man was tackled to the ground. After a small struggle, Beowulf slipped a knife out from under his jacket and delivered a killer blow to the neck; teeth bared from the pressure of the strike he delivered. Blood was everywhere on the ground and just a little bit on him. Evidence… That was easily destroyed. Making sure to remove the envelope, the man stood up and slipped it in his pocket. Licking the knife clear of blood, he put it back in his pocket befor standing up. There was some blood on his lower hoodie, so he took it off and wrapped it around his waist; concealing it completely. He’d dispose of the items soon… As Beowulf was no fool. Turning around, the man started to walk away… As if nothing had happened.

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718 words || gif from ahhhgifhunts || no outfit link || template made by katie

[Nira Adib]

Nira allowed herself to close her eyes for a little while, feeling the soft breeze caress her skin and play with her long dark hair. She took in a deep breath and took in the sounds of nature. It was then when she realized there were no sounds of nature. Those crystalline green eyes opened to the world as she straightened up and looked around. No sounds other than the breeze through foliage and grass meant only one thing: danger. Prey animals are smarter than we give them credit for, they turn quiet as soon as they sense a predator, and that's exactly what was going on right now.  

It was then when she saw two moving bodies through the tall grass, one clearly stalking the other. She slowly stood up. One of them was a demon, she could sense it. Although having being a demon herself, she never prayed on weaker creatures and did not approve of this at all. And she had her own reasons to hate her own former kin. They tried to justify acts of cruelty and injustice on the fact that they were demons and they could do it. Well... here is one former demon that is willing to make a stance.  

Nira frowned and began walking towards the tall grass, entering it herself and moving closer and closer, as fast as she could but careful to not reveal her presence. This was not going to turn out well! She could sense it! She began moving faster, pushing the long blades of the grass away from her way. Faster, faster... and then she stopped on her tracks. She could smell the blood... She was too late! GodD*mn it! 

She pushed the last strands of grass out of her way and then she saw it... a bloodied man lying dead on the floor and the back of the murderer. She could feel her heart pounding fast in her chest, in regret of having not arrived sooner. She frowned, tensing her jaws and glared up at the man as he turned around, unaware that she was standing there. There was no fear in her eyes, what did she have to fear? There was nothing he could do, she was dead already. But he wasn't...oh he wasn't.  

However, that frowned vanished almost immediately as she made eye contact with that man. Her heart leaped with joy, but shattered at the same time. Those beautiful green eyes of hers filled with tears as a single one slid down her cheek. "Beowulf..." She muttered. She would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. Her baby was a handsome grown man now... and a murderer. She took a couple of steps closer to him, wanting to touch him, to embrace him...but she couldn't! Another tear slid down her cheek. "You probably don't even remember me..." She said in a broken voice, holding back tears, trying not to cry.  

He had probably forgotten about her, he was only a little boy after all...but a mother never forgets. "I've looked for you everywhere..." She was aching inside, hoping with all of her might he wouldn't reject her. It did seem however, like she had abandoned him. But she didn't...she was just trying to protect him. So much to explain to him... She looked down at the corpse. Her boy had led astray, into his instincts as a demon...had become a murderer... She would have never wanted this for him, ever! But there'll be time to talk about this... But first he needed to know! She needed him to know! 

Nira looked back up at him, with that maternal, loving gaze. Her son was a murderer but that wouldn't made her turn against him... She was never there for him, but now she was! She could help him... She could help him go back on the right ways... She had to.... She had to make everything right for him... She walked closer, closing the distance between them. She removed a leather bracelet from her wrist, the one she had left with him when she left him in the desert and gently grabbed his hand, handing him the bracelet. She let go of his hand, letting him take in the moment; she also did not want him to notice she was cold to the touch, she didn't want him to know what happened to her... He didn't need to know... 

Her tear-filled, green eyes looked back up at him, meeting those sky-blue eyes of his. "I am your mother..." Her voice almost cracked, it came out as a subtle whisper. And she prayed, prayed with all of her might that her son would not reject her... She did not know what she would do if he did... She could only hope he would listen to her...and let her explain herself... Let her make it right... 

 

ooc:: Dem feelz -holds heart- Dx

outfit:: [x]

[Beowulf Mustafa]

from nothing we have risen and from nothing we still rise

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After the death of the man, Beowulf felt a sense of relief float off of his shoulders even though his body remained grounded and alert; however, he refrained to show such emotion to draw suspicion upon him. The man was quite aware of the things around him. After all, a man of the hunt needed to be. He could feel the cold air brushing upon his body, making the airs on his hands move ever so faintly. He could smell the fresh breeze of the trees, grass, and exhaust from the cars. He could sense the presence of bodies walking around him; however, not so close as to notice him or even follow him from afar. Beowulf was a man of caution and precaution; he knew where everyone was and could sense if their eyes were upon him like any animal could – which none were. A ghost was something he never encountered before in his whole life. So having ghost eyes on him did make the hairs on the back of his neck and spine stand on end; however, though his guard heightened, he did not show that emotion nor paid it much thought. It might just be the eyes of a large dog or his kill… Or perhaps his nerves getting to him.

When a woman appeared before him, nearly every muscle tensed in his body. This was a reaction to shock, to something that he was not prepared for. Those bright crystalline blue eyes stared into the woman’s cold dead ones. His façade lightened up very faintly due to her first tear, but the other ones that followed, his façade returned back to the normal blank stare of his. When she continued to talk, his eyebrows lowered and pressed together slightly. What was she talking about? Remember her? Looked everywhere for him. A few fingers on his right hand twitched a bit, just itching to grab the knife to get rid of her. It was an instinct, but one that he did not react to. It was illogical. Even more so when she probably didn’t even see anything that he had done. After all, he made sure that no eyes were laid upon him.

Beowulf took a step back away from her to collect his thoughts. This was something one did not encounter on a day to day basis or even once in a while. Someone claimed to know him and was getting all emotional with it. Some young woman… He didn’t have a clue who she was nor did he really care. In the back of his mind though, something oddly was drawing to her. Something was off… He didn’t know what his gut feeling was telling him. Little did he know that what he was feeling was that she was a ghost – something he never encountered before… And that she was also his kin: his mother.

After he moved back, a few moments passed before she moved forward, closer to him to close the gap. The hairs on the back of his neck and spine started to ease up on end at this. Something was fishy about her but he couldn’t place it. Once again his arm twitched to grab the knife, but instead he refused the urge. Feeling a slight wave of coldness that he soon assumed was the wind, he looked down at his hand that now held a bracelet made of leather. It was small, as if for a child. Crystalline blue eyes looked at it before looking up at the woman as his fingers rubbed against the texture, trying to figure it out. Then she spoke. Mother. His eyebrows lifted up, showing some emotion of shock before they lowered and pinched together. That was when his hand clenched tightly but didn’t let go of the leather bracelet that resided in that very same hand. “No…” His voice was deep, but not evil or cruel. Taking a few steps back, he shook his head before turning around and walking off. His façade looked as though he didn’t want to believe it. “ما هو اسم فاتنة أن الأم تركت ذلك بلا مبالاة؟” [What is the name of the babe that a mother so carelessly left?] He spoke softly as he walked away. It was loud enough for her to hear but Beowulf was not going to be fooled.

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724 words || gif from ahhhgifhunts || no outfit link || template made by katie

[Nira Adib]

Nira was looking at him quietly, taking in his every facial expression, trying to figure out what he was thinking or feeling, but after years of being apart, Beowulf had lifted a wall not even his very own mother could see through. She could sense he was tense, and wanted to not believe that she was speaking the truth, but something in him told him she was. She could see it in his eyes, see it in the way she clenched that leather bracelet than in the pits of his childhood memory felt ever so familiar to him. Yet there was anger, and denial. It was tearing at her from the inside.

That one word he uttered, was enough for her to shed another tear. Those bright emerald eyes of her could not hold any more pain and sorrow. "You know I am not lying..." She whispered ever so softly, desperately wanting to hug her baby, but knowing better than to even touch him. She was lifeless...

When he turned around and turned his back towards her, she couldn't hold it. She winced in inner pain and sobbed. "Please don't... please...don't walk away..." She begged, knowing better than to force a man that did not want to listen to stay. And then she heard him speaking in Arabic, a language that was as native to her as English was. Hearing him speak in it brought warmth and pain to her heart, but his words were like burning acid. "It wasn't careless!" She cried. "If only you'd let me explain... tell you what happened..." It was never careless... how quick was he to judge but she did not blame him.

Nira looked up and faced his cold back which spoke of nothing but rejection. "I told you that day... I told you to be brave and that I'd be back for you... I never stopped looking for you..." She sobbed. "My lunar flower... my Beowulf..." She said, sorrow and love coating those words as they came out of her mouth. And finally...he stopped moving away.

Another tear streamed slowly down her cheek as she slowly and tentatively walked closer to him, until she walked past him and turned to face him, meeting those crystalline blue eyes of his with her own green ones. "I looked everywhere for you... please...don't walk away now... not that I've finally found you..." Her voice sounded almost like a painful beg. "I'll explain everything... just give me a chance... if after listening to me you decide that you don't want to see me ever again... I promise I'll leave and not look for you... I'll disappear and you won't know of me ever again... I am just asking for one opportunity... please..."

ooc:: ...

outfit:: [x]

[Beowulf Mustafa]

from nothing we have risen and from nothing we still rise

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Memories started to flood the man’s mind. Hatred, abandoned, forgotten, negative memories that he pushed back in the deepest corners of his mind never to resurface again – were coming back out. This woman claimed to be his mother. The same mother that he barely remembered having before she basically abandoned him. She did not abandon him – she left him in what she thought was good hands. It was for his protection; however, to him, it was abandonment and in a horrible environment. Even though he lived in America and basically stayed there for decades. Arabic and English were his dialects and he spoke both languages perfectly as well as fluently. He didn’t speak much Arabic when he was out and about, it was mostly a job thing. Nonetheless, if she was really his mother, she would know the tongue of their people. Even if she forgot, she should know. At least, that was how he was thinking.

She said she was not careless. Beowulf resisted the urge to roll his eyes – some childish thing he refused to do. He knew better than to speak his mind here. It was rather pointless to open his mouth and speak some snotty snippet. To him, she better start explaining because he was still walking away and not stopping upon her request. She did not move. He heard her talk and the lack of her feet moving within the tall grass. She did not follow him, she just sobbed and talked. The man continued to walk. He was done with this woman and didn’t want things to get carried away to a violent level. So the best thing to do was to walk away from the scene and deny everything. He gave her one last chance – to say something to make him stop. One phrase that would stop him in his tracks…

And she said it. The man soon stopped in his tracks. He didn’t take one hairline forward. When she walked through the grass and stopped in front of him, his piercing blue eyes looked down at her emerald ones. His jaw tensed a bit as she spoke, his mind racing and debating on what to do. A small part of him wanted to grab her and hold her close, so that he wouldn’t lose his mother ever again… Yet the other part of him told him to let her talk then walk away to think about this. “Explain, mother.” Mother was the only name he knew her by. Calling her Nira or anything else, the name wasn’t in his vocabulary. He may not believe her fully, but he trusted her more now that she spoke of his little nickname than before. So that was a good thing. Obviously he didn’t tell her to leave, he just wanted her to explain. Remembering the body not too far away, Beowulf glanced behind him before walking past her. “Not here.”

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485 words || gif from ahhhgifhunts || no outfit link || template made by katie

[Nira Adib]

And he stopped. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her and she could finally breathe. She hurried to walk past him and finally see his eyes, which had seemed to lose that painful coldness and seemed to be more understanding. It felt odd... her baby was so much taller than her now. She wiped away some tears and looked up at him, desperately wanting to hug her baby but knowing better than to do so. She didn't want him to know, he didn't need to know.

Explain mother? Nira smiled, suddenly overtaken by joy, her eyes glimmering with tears of now joy. He was giving her a chance. "Th--" But before she could say anything he glanced back and then told her not here before walking away. Nira felt the soft breeze caress her wet cheeks. "Beowulf..." Should he tell him she knew what he did? Perhaps not now... maybe later, she couldn't ruin the chance he had just given her. "Nevermind..." She said following him silently out of the woods and back into the city.

Beowulf walked into a small coffee shop and ordered coffee. Nira looked uncomfortable, watching the people sipping their coffee and eating small cookies or pastries. She felt herself getting nauseous at the thought of it, but she could do it, she could fake it for his sake. She ordered herself a plain black coffee and then followed him outside, where very few people were sitting. She sat down across from him in a table for two and set her coffee down, looking up at him. Immense amounts of melancholy glimmering in those pain-filled eyes of hers.

"It's better if we cut straight to it right?" She mumbled, not knowing where to start. "Beowulf... I..." Even saying his name felt weird. "I never meant to leave you, my dear, you were just a baby I wouldn't expect you to remember... but we were running away..." She had to look away to stop herself from shedding any more tears. "I was just trying to protect you... I know leaving a baby is unforgivable but everything I did... even if they weren't the best decisions... was to ensure your safety..." She said looking back at him.

"Do you remember that day... your father met with a strange men and then we left..." He was old enough now... she could explain it. "They wanted to use you as a vessel for Al-Hawwa... a strong dark spirit... It would have consumed you... I couldn't allow it..." Yet he seemed confused. "Our packs Beo... do you not remember? Our packs have strong bonds with the spirit world and each one of us can serve as a vessel for strong spirits. You my dear... are particularly gifted, but I could not allow such spirit to destroy your soul... I just couldn't... so I took you, my beloved son, and ran..."

"We were being followed... so I had to hide you... But of course I would never leave you alone... I bound a Jackal spirit to that bracelet to look after you until I could come back..." But then why didn't she come back. "I..." She could almost feel the fire burning her flesh... "And it took longer than I would have ever wanted to come back for you..." He would not tell him, he didn't need to know... Her voice were as sincere as a it could be and the pain in her eyes was completely genuine. She looked down at her coffee, having not taken a single sip out of it, and then looked back up at him. "When I came back you weren't there anymore... and Buraq and I have been looking for you ever since..." She said leaning back on her chair and wiping another tear away. She didn't want to make a scene in public and embarrass her son.

ooc:: ...

outfit:: [x]