[P] the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Printable Version +- [ CLOSED♥ ] NOVUS rpg (https://novus-rpg.net) +-- Forum: Realms (https://novus-rpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +--- Forum: Delumine (https://novus-rpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=7) +---- Forum: Archives (https://novus-rpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=92) +---- Thread: [P] the quieter it is, the more you can hear (/showthread.php?tid=3952) |
the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Maerys - 08-13-2019 there are nights when the wolves are silent and only the horses howl There was a sleeping cobra in the scene today - it lay in the land in smoothly seductive curves that glittered in the morning light, cool and innocuous. Its scales were seething waves and its hiss was the sound of churning water. Blood did not flow through this animal like it did others, but instead fish and other small creatures did. There were a myriad of dangers in its depth, both poisonous and deadly alike. The bends are icy, chilled even at this time of year as the waves run from the cold north to here, never settling enough to be warmed by the sun's brilliant rays. Should a one feel the beating of the birds' wings - that would have been the only breeze on this day. The serpent known as Rapax River - oh, was it lovely. It was tranquil, not much to see or do. Maerys easily patrolled as she always did, with Vradara sitting on her spine and her ax never too far away. Maerys loved these quiet days, the ones were the world felt still and the conversations grew silent. She'd run into very few on this day and didn't truly know if she'd see anyone else. She wouldn't be bothered if she didn't run into anyone else. The girl loved solitude nearly as much as she loved companionship. It was still, utterly still. Little Maerys, silver-haired and naive. She didn't know that sometimes stillness wasn't good or calm or peaceful or desireable. She didn't know that one court away there was a dictator that would die only after murder and starvation had been thrown on the land like rain in the summer. She didn't know that the sun would pause in the sky and time would freeze like a lag in their world and it would be up to them, the mortals, to figure it out. She didn't know that enemies were turning lovers and lovers were turning enemies. She didn't know that perhaps even in her own court there were toxins that flowed like heroin through the veins of an addict. Maybe she was too young or maybe she just didn't know. RE: the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Sloane - 08-14-2019
RE: the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Maerys - 09-11-2019 there are nights when the wolves are silent and only the horses howl It was befitting that the ophidian stream manifested itself into the figure of a four-legged viper with the eyes and temper to match. What do you want? Maerys only wanted the light of day, the comfort of a home - of loving embraces. She craved to mold her dreams into gold that was as tangible as wishes, yet as real as the dawn of Delumine. She wanted these dreams, given to her by the divine hand, to dance with her into the future that calls to her wandering hooves and bohemian soul. The stranger would not fancy that response, however, and so the girl met that glare with the shine of benevolence rather than words. In anger and argument, Maerys would be blind to the stranger, to the delicate petals of her heart and soul. To learn to respond with love and kindness would mean the beginning of a cure to the monster within the stranger, to return her to the angel of her better nature. The words she ached to speak in such well-intentioned purity could trigger something that comes from a place of fear in the dark mare. The words that tranquilize the stranger would scare the girl and vice versa. It was the different ways these souls have been raised and cultivated. So there they were, in opposite camps, suddenly blind to each other's good hearts and building barricades instead of bridges. "Well met, stranger," the girl said finally, ignoring the stare and the vulgar tone the black mare had used on her. "Tis mine own duty to patrol." She didn't stand stiffly in the cold metal of armor. She had no threads that marked her out as a fighter; a protector. Yet still, she is barely recognizable as the girl she was only four seasons ago. Her shoulders had developed the lean muscle of someone in training. She learned how to run for hours in the mud - over rocks and through rivers - while simultaneously forming connections with those both less and more experienced than herself. Maerys didn't look like it, but she was a warrior and would not back down from a stranger's stern glare. RE: the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Sloane - 09-28-2019
RE: the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Maerys - 12-18-2019 there are nights when the wolves are silent and only the horses howl There hadn't been much stated in their conversation, but each of their movements was a conversation of its own; the backward snap of ears flattening against a muscled neck, the furrowing of dark brows, or even the small twitch of velvet lips all meant something distinctive and pointed. Maerys had perpetually heard that the eyes were windows that could be seen through at any moment. They exposed torture and tenderness in the same flutter and showcased how every sentiment felt spun through one another to compose the very fabric of any soul. If one was not careful to remain utterly composed they could form, in an instant and with full depth, a comprehensive picture. So as Sloane's eyes offered Maerys a keen look, the reds in her tresses spilling across a sea of darkness like blotted vivid inks, it was like being out in the open amid a hailstorm where every thick chunk of ice was a frosted dagger ripping or bruising skin. "Aye, thou art correct," she responded with a balanced tone as Sloane's eyes continued to drive, reminding Maerys of the sort of dusk that lingered like soot and ash from the last embers of a sweeping blaze - and despite their power for desolation, they ensnared Maerys in a net of intrigue. The girl remembered the war history from Varak, her homeland, how for centuries they sought to subdue with a show of power as an opening tactic, the right display of might would save them the bother of going into the trenches at all. So many battles had been won with an impressive display of horses and well-woven banners and Somnus had not shown a second of such leadership tactic, and it was well-received by the girl. She did not want a king who's only desire was expansion and demolition. "'Tis a most wonderous to serve the sovereign, this court, and Oriens," and after just a brief pause, she pressed onwards. "What doth thee do?" It never crossed the girl's mind that the stranger may have no one job. Maerys had always had this insurmountable drive to be ranked and to rise in the ranks. To be a commoner was, in her opinion, a great disservice to any court if one could be something else. Though who was a two-year-old to judge or question? The ways of the world hadn't relinquished her of her drive yet. The standoff had seemingly transitioned in a matter of seconds from something hostile, to something fueled by sheer curiosity from both parties. Or perhaps Maerys simply misunderstood what was truly happening here. RE: the quieter it is, the more you can hear - Sloane - 01-08-2020
|