[P] Starscapes and Sorrows

[Noctiilucent]

Fresh on the heels of the introduction of Denocte's new Sovereign, The golden tri-horned creature found herself swimming against the tides of bodies. It seemed as though the whole scene was an accurate reflection of her life. So much of her life was rife with struggles that she caused for herself, never had she had hardship thrust upon her. Not until Xamis had taken away the one she had loved the most, and she resented him for doing that to a child. "Isra!" She called out as the Sovereign seemed to be moving away from her. Within her soul she had felt a deep rumbling, the tides within her changed with just a few moments she had known Isra. Have I always been so easily swept away by those who weave words so eloquently? The thought raced through her mind, but it fell upon the pile of worries she would sift through later. Beneath the moon, her seas of gold, alabaster and ink stains glowed an eerie blue. The pendant that hung from her nape danced beneath the moonlight, shimmering when the light hit the emerald just so. She was a far cry from the comfort she found in the libraries rich with the histories and lives of those of Denocte's past.

She was now a part of living history, with the change of the throne. It was her chance to change the throne within herself, and stop wallowing in the despair she felt. Noctii was now acutely aware of the suffering of others and felt selfish for allowing herself to waste so much time. She hoped that Isra would not ignore her or be perturbed by Noctii's abrupt captivation. Was she forever doomed to chase after the crowns whose capes were made from the galaxies overhead? Noctiilucent did not halt her upstream venture amidst the ordered chaos until she stood a few feet from Isra. "Forgive my urgency, and my abrupt passion. I have spent so long locked up in a tower of sorrow, and it is my own fault. I cannot help but feel this connection for you. You breathe stardust and sadness as though they are old friends. I too know the depths of darkness that can become an all-consuming sea, so dark that white-hot stars cannot penetrate its depths. I was captivated by you, and forgive my forwardness but I find you astonishingly beautiful... And in equal measure brave to face the task of rebuilding a whole nation." She breathed out as if her words would be lost in the tides of her inner sea.

"I cannot imagine it was easy to speak of such a turbulent past, and even I am so ashamed and afraid of my own that I deny it's very existence. Perhaps someday I will speak of it to you, though I wish to offer to you my loyalty just as I had to Reichenbach before you. I'd like to extend my friendship and stop being so selfish. I cannot continue to be consumed by this darkness while others suffer." She admitted quickly, feeling out of breath as she ceased her words. Was this all too much? The golden minx waited anxiously for a response, praying to whatever deities that be that she would not be turned away. Noctii did not know if she could take another violent sting or cut to her self-esteem at this time. Rejection was the swiftest way to cut her down, though she understood that what she wanted to happen was not always what would occur.

Actions "Speech" Thoughts

"Speech"
Notes: ;faldjf Sorry this post sucks ;__:
Tags: @Isra 
Words: 589

You're the only one I see

I'm caught floating in your gravity

[Isra]

Isra of the siren sea

'we broke and let all the smoke fill us up inside and none of the fire had air to burn'


It's not until the chaos after the meeting that she just....breathes.

The air taste like stardust, ash and salt. Isra chews on it like dust chews on on a ray of sunshine, drawing out patterns with the dark in the brightness, breaking up the ray with decay. Around her is sweat and brine, skin and blood, suffering and prayers. It's easy to forget her fresh crown of sorrows, to let it be trampled about the hooves of horses that are no different than she with far less of a stain on their souls.

It's easy to let the chaos take her, to be lost in neither the here nor there and sway between bodies like a pearl-filled clam between the tides and the shore. She's not strong enough to dig in, not yet-- not with the sea lingering about her hooves and pulling her down into the darkness of memories. And so she lets the crowd take her away, ebbing against the hardness of them all like flotsam against the cliffs. She's lets them take her back to the shadows, back to where she once starved and stole and looked at a sunshine boy as the moon looks to the horizon for a hope of just once glimpse of gold.

But then a mare breaks the silence, crashes into her ebb and flow and Isra smiles for the passion and fire in her words that she imagines she can see running like a ghost down the other mare's skin. Perhaps it's the weakness of a silver-dreaming girl to smile at gold-dust and wonder of things so much more alive than she.

For a moment it's hard to make words from the brightness of the Noctiilucent's lips, harder still to bury the itch of her skin that remembers how to both burn and freeze and sting all at once. For a moment she thinks in sunshine and hears only the trembling sighs of trees and the soft kisses of moonlight. For a moment the chaos teases at the edges of her vision like a siren, a tide to bring her back, back, back to the sea where the night might seem so very far away when she is back below the waves.

“Oh.” The word comes out like a sigh, both heavy and hopeful and dark enough to drown out every star in the sky. “We all know something of sorrow I fear, especially now in the wreckage of the sea and storms.” It stings to think that the sea betrayed her, took away her once golden skin to leave her with only more darkness and suffering to replace all the glitz and scars of her old body.

“You are kind,” Isra offers a touch of her nose, forgetting for a moment that siren call of the chaos and the sea that is still sweeping back out to shore. She imagines she must smell of blood and brine and her voice must sound like rust. It's easy to skip over the 'beautiful' part as nothing more than a slip of the tongue (her soul is too dark and stained to be lovely). “but I am not brave at all.  I am only foolish and hopeful enough to share my dreams and hope that they might bring something better to someone else.” It's easy now to step away from the chaos around them, to offer the mare comfort and that soft ring of her chain that promises freedom when she closes all the space between them.

“Thank you.” It's harder to swallow down the phantom sting of winter-fire across her spine than it is to leave the call of the salted sea. “For your friendship and loyalty I will offer you the same and a promise that you will never burn and you will always be free to hide in towers of sorrow or dance beneath the moonlight. And if you ever want to share your story I will always listen.” Isra swallows down the memories. She smiles and tries so very hard to remember that she's not starving, forgotten in the corners of the court.

Isra tries so very hard to drag up a story of a queen from her soul, to pretend she wears a warrior crown made of coral reefs and shark teeth. She tries to look as wild and lovely and brave as Noctiilucent seems to think she is. “And if tonight was your very last night in this world what would you do, knowing you want to stay in the dark no longer?” Oh how her crown turns to dust in her imagination, swept away again on a sea of dreaming and wondering instead of order and purpose.



@Noctiilucent