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[P] under wing - Printable Version

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under wing - Corrdelia - 09-10-2019

STRANGENESS AND CHARM

There is a hole in the heart of Terrastella now that they are three members less. It still doesn't feel real, especially having Asterion gone. She remembers their meeting on the island like it had been yesterday and he seemed content then. It still had not been made clear just why they all left or even if they would return.

But then, life has to go on and Corrdelia knows she needs to move on from this (for her sake and her Court's). She had offered her help to anyone who needed it in their meeting, so she hopes they can all get through this together.

She is sitting in her house sipping tea when she hears a commotion outside. Hāsta squawks up on her perch in response before gliding over to the windowsill to look out.

"Someone's out there," she tells Corr with a grumpy tone.

"Well, I sure hope they're alright! We ought to take a look," the mare replies in a hurry, then rushes out the door to investigate. Hāsta reluctantly follows and takes flight close to Corr.

A warm breeze greets her when she steps outside. Light filters through the thick canopy of trees, offering even a small amount of sunlight to brighten the swamp. Although they still seem to be having an issue with the sun not setting, it's a nice sight to see given the circumstances lately. As Corr came around the corner, she realizes that the commotion is coming from the twins. She smiles, her anxiety dissipating.

"What are you two kids up to out here?" she asks, her tone mocking a mom voice. She can't help but grin at them though. It's hard for her to feel annoyed since their parents were now gone. If anything, it made her want to take them under her wing and keep them safe.
"Speaking." ; @Aster @Leonidas oof sorry for the crappy starter ;3;
Art by Siilverfang; Table code by Nettlebird; Modified by Layla



RE: under wing - Aster - 09-22-2019

and pluck til time and times are done
the silver apples of the moon
the golden apples of the sun

I
t doesn’t feel unnatural to Aster, this wandering.

Maybe it is because she was born on the island, when time hung suspended and there were no castles, no courts, nothing but her family and the magic that hung in the air thick as a fog. Maybe it is because her parents were wanderers, too, of worlds and time and lives.

Today, she and Leonidas walk beneath thick and whispering leaves, a canopy that lets only small shafts of light drift through. Roots rise in knotted tangles and sluggish water reflects what pieces of the sky it can. But it is not quiet, this strange slow place: mosquitos hum and cicadas buzz like strange music, and birds call to one another and make small quick darting paths through the trees.

Sometimes Leonidas leads, and sometimes Aster, and their cheetah cubs go with them. Occasionally there are shouts of Look or a murmured this way as they navigate the maze of water and trees. Teak rides the filly’s narrow dappled back, unimpressed with the damp, light as a bit of dandelion gone to seed.

They are playing - being noisy, being children - when one of them first sees the house.

It is a marvelous thing, all windows and wood, overhung with vines and crooked as the path they’d taken. At once Aster is sure that it is full of secret things, of knowledge, and together like siblings in a fairytale they come closer and closer. When Aster first hears the music of the wind chimes, she falls still, cocking her head to listen, as Teak squirms on her back and makes a small sound of wariness.

She turns her head sharply when the figure rushes out the doorway, joined by a crow. Aster stays close to her brother, but keeps her bright golden eyes on the woman, curious but not matching her grin (she is not a grinning sort of girl, and her smiles are as rare as eclipses, except for Leonidas). On her back, Teak flexes his small claws and her skin twitches beneath the prick of them.

Aster looks from the woman (pretty, with her silver eyes and her skin like a dark river-stone, and fascinating, with her bird and her necklace of skulls and her house that makes questions spring up like white-capped waves in the girl’s mind) to her brother and back again.

“Are you a witch?” she asks, and it is clear she hopes the answer is yes.


@Leonidas @Corrdelia  <3 oy I am terrible at children



RE: under wing - Leonidas - 10-04-2019

something kissed by the wild 
and loved by lightning


There are many ways in which Leonidas and his sister are identical and there are many ways in which they are so very different. Smiles are one such thing. They are, upon leonidas’ lips, as frequent as the flowers of a meadow - and just as bright. Yet upon Aster’s lips they are a rare phenomena, enough that when one comes, even Leonidas’ lips drop to study this new curve of her lips. But the boy may not yet have recognised how his sister does not smile for many (or maybe any) but him. Yet the way his eyes linger upon her upturned mouth is enough to show he has become subconsciously aware. 


Yet when his sister stops, becoming as still as the sun at their birth, Leonidas also ceases from his game. His eyes draw across the familair lines of his sister’s face (each one he can draw within his mind, each inch of her he knows as well as himself). Then he follows the line of her sight to where a mare steps out from the small house they had been playing in front of. 


If Leonidas was not a boy, with boyish things upon his mind, he might have noticed how beautiful the mare’s little house was. Its wild vines crawl across its facade, and gypsy patterns are intricately carved into the wood. From an open window a sheer curtain drifts lazily in the breeze. The bough of a tree casts an emerald shade over the roof and it is as if the swamp is but a background made for the little house to sit within.


But Leo notices none of these things, but the woman who stands like the moon beyond her front door. The sunboy smiles but his smile fades when she asks what they had been up to. Discreetly he opens his mouth discarding the flower he had between his teeth. “Nuthin’” He murmurs guiltily as his sister asks if she was a witch. Aster’s question was better - if a little predictable. His ivory sister relished the strangeness of witches and slowly Leonidas steps closer to his sister, until their shoulder’s touch and they stand as one.


“Can you do magic?” the boy asks warily, for the last time he met a girl as silver as she within a wood, she tried to take his fort and threw stones at him. Were all beautiful girls so rude?

@Aster @Corrdelia
"Speaking."
credits



RE: under wing - Corrdelia - 10-08-2019

They are typical children with the look of mischief and curiosity on their faces. With them are their cheetah cubs who seem more out of place in the swamp. Corrdelia looks on at them warmly, but also with sadness. She cannot imagine what it would be like to grow up without parents and she thanks Vespera for blessing these kids with their companions. At least they are being looked after by someone when the Court isn't.

The wind chimes behind them sing in the breeze after the children ask if she is a witch and can do magic. Corr's smile is now more of a smirk and there is a certain twinkle in her eye. Hāsta takes perch on her shoulder and tilts her head. The crow is not used to children and so she's not very sure how to react.

"Indeed I am and I can do a lot of different things," she replies and stretches out her wings. "I can sense your emotions and speak to the animal spirits for guidance. I can also make teas for whatever ails you." Her collection of herbs and tea blends are beginning to overflow out of her cabinets, but she doesn't mind. She does have a blend for almost anything one can think of and she would rather be prepared.

"My name is Corrdelia and this is my companion, Hāsta," she nudges the bird while introducing her, but Hāsta only squawks in response. As usual, she is feeling unimpressed. "Aster and Leonidas, right? Say, would you two dears like to come inside for some of that tea? I've got some delicious fruity blends you might enjoy."

"They'll only destroy the place more, you know. They're rambunctious kids with no authority figures," Hāsta grumbles through their telepathy.
Corr rolls her eyes and responds back, "Give them a break. They are at that age and are trying to get on nearly alone. Besides, they'll be safer inside the house."

After giving the crow a stern look, Corr turns back to the twins eagerly. Hopefully she's got their interest and they might consider hanging around with her for a bit. As much as she enjoyed solitude, at times she did find it lonely without much company. She did also enjoy mentoring, so maybe one or both of them might be interested in her practices.

@Aster @Leonidas I love them <3


RE: under wing - Aster - 10-15-2019

and pluck til time and times are done
the silver apples of the moon
the golden apples of the sun

S
o she is a witch, and when admits it the whole of Aster’s keen and strangely stoic attention falls upon her. Teak’s attention is equally focused, but on the raven; the girl feels when the cheetah cub’s wariness shifts to a cat’s inborn curiosity, particularly when it comes to things with feathers.

Two pairs of golden eyes (or perhaps three, or four - she is not attending to her brother, not when there is something so new and interesting before her) follow the movement of the witch’s wings as they spread wide, sunlight shining through the tips. Aster’s own, little more than downy suggestions, unconsciously flex in return.

Every skill the woman names makes her bird-small heart beat with want. She steps forward, exchanging her shoulder against her brother’s with her hip. The wind blows its lips again over the chimes, and they clack and sing like teeth, and no cabin of candy and cake could have tempted Aster more.

Not until Corrdelia gives her name does she glance back at her twin, to see if he recognizes it. They are truly fae children, sleeping in the dew and eating acorns with the deer, but Aster remembers the manners Florentine had begun to impress upon them.

“It is our pleasure to meet you,” she says as docilely as a lamb, as stately as a princess. If she is surprised at all to hear her name from a stranger’s lips - from anyone’s lips but Leonidas’s - it shows only in a flicker of her snow-white lashes. “Yes.” The answer for both questions is just a breath, airy as an aspen-leaf drifting down to soil, but Aster’s pulse quickens in her throat. Surely a witch who could make a tea for any sickness could make the sickness, too.

She is as eager as Teak to follow the two into the structure, where she can already see strange things, colorful things, through the thick panes of glass. And even so, she turns quickly back to her dark brother with a look that asks should we run? before she tosses her small, fine head and steps across the threshold with her cheetah’s eyes flashing from her back.



@Leonidas @Corrdelia  <3 so sorry for the wait! she is entranced



RE: under wing - Leonidas - 10-27-2019

something kissed by the wild 
and loved by lightning

The leaves and twigs and wild herbs hanging in his hair mark the boy as less a Prince of Terrastella than one of the woodland fae. In his eyes gleams a wildness that has begun to grow and flourish as a flower of the field. All of Leonidas is blooming, the feathers upon his wings growing finer and longer, the way he no longer looks afraid but more at ease. Already independence and dark lonesome nights with just his sister has taught him the things he should truly fear.


And so, when Aster looks back to him and asks with her gaze, is it safe? The boy says nothing at all, but his gilded gaze - so much a mirror of hers - blazes just a little brighter. Aster steps within the house, the wild ivy reaching for the antlers that have begun to grow like a crown from her poll. Upon each of their heads their antlers are growing, little more than golden tangled roots arising like the tines of crowns.


They are royal fae children with no kingdom limited to stars and dusk but extended out to all of Novus. He would sleep in the mountainous halls of the gods and call it his own. He would sleep upon the island in the midst of Vitreus Lake and things its his own too. He would pluck bread from a stall within Solterra’s square and believe that he is entitled. Terrastella is no more home to him than the rest of Novus. Anywhere Aster is he names home.


So Leonidas is quick upon the steps his sister disappeared up. He is quick behind her through the door only slowing when his side is pressed to hers, when the feathers of their wings are tangled together. 


A witch. A witch. He sees the glow of such a word shining up from Aster’s soul. He feels it in her heart as if it were her own. Slowly he turns his wildwood gaze upon the woman and his skull tilts to regard her. Were witches not supposed to look like crones? Corrdelia is not dark nor twisted nor bent, but tall and regal and pale as a dove.


The walls of the house set in close, close, close. It is dark and full of strange smells and the world reaches in through only a window. Leonidas looks to it and already his body yearns to run, to push his wings wide and cast out the walls that confine them. “Do you sleep in here?” Curious wonder slips like silver through his question. It shadows the crinkling of his nose. “How does the moonlight and the wind get in? Do you sleep alone?”


Slowly he peels himself from Aster and steps curiously forward. The fae boy passes a bed… bed... he has a name for it he can recognise the wooden frame and plush pillows and blankets upon it, but never has he thought to sleep upon one. He thinks beds within the woodland are better, with no walls and a roof of endless leaves and a sky struck moonlight-silver. 


The boy moves beyond a bed to where fruits and teas and fruited teas all lie out fragrant and sweet. So many berries he already knows. So many that have coloured his lips black and red and blue as he steals them from the bushes he and Aster pass in their meanderings. He sees one he does not recognise and looks back to the pale witch, “Can I try this one? Then will you show us some magic?” And his eyes flit to Aster’s for he knows how much she will delight in such events.

@Aster @Corrdelia
"Speaking."
credits



RE: under wing - Corrdelia - 10-30-2019

The twins join her inside along with their feline companions, although she can tell they are a bit unsure. Hāsta is not impressed with the company and makes more grumbly noises under her breath, then flies up to her usual perch. She stares down at them all, but is mostly judging the children and isn't sure of them.

"Don't mind her, she's never in a good mood," Corr muses before making her way into the kitchen. She is stopped by Leonidas' comment of the darkness and the mare becomes apologetic. "Oh, sorry my dears. I've been keeping it darker to stay cool in here. With that sun never setting out there, it can get pretty warm!"

She immediately lights the candles placed along the walls and it starts to light up the room a bit more. If anything, it makes her clutter more noticeable, but to Corr, it's an organized type of chaos. There are several bookshelves along the walls with stacks of books on the floor, dried herbs hanging from the ceiling along with potted plants, skulls and other mystical objects covering the countertops. It appears as if the woman has no space to do anything, yet somehow she still works around it.

After she sets up the candles, she remembers the boy had asked a question before mentioning how dark it had been. "Also yes, I do sleep alone, but I much prefer it that way. More room to stretch out my legs!"

Corr makes her way back to the kitchen and over to the boy's side where he's picked out a flavor of tea containing elderberries. "Of course you can, darling! And yes, I can show you magic after. This one is elderberry, a magnificent booster of the immune system," she explains while picking up the blend from her stash and setting it aside. She sets her teapot by the fire to begin heating up the water.

"Alright, while that's setting up- let me explain a little something about magic to you two," Corr says, sitting down in front of the pair as if she's about to teach a lesson. "It's a beautiful thing, but it's not always visible. With me, I have a special ability to make spiritual and emotional connections with others and the guardian spirits. I'm still working on it, but someday I should be able to help you feel happier when you're sad. For now, I make all those teas that will do the same and they taste good!"

She then points with her wing to the table by the fireplace with a couple decks of cards set neatly together. "Over there is my reading table. I use the cards to connect to the spirit realm and they're able to tell me special messages about myself or others. Would you two like to see what they say?" Her eyes are wide with excitement and anticipation. The cards are her favorite and she hopes that the kids might be just as interested as she had been when she was their age.


@Aster @Leonidas wanted to get this table out there before the season passed ;D <3