The lanterns flickered softly in the fading daylight, their flame beginning to dance more vibrantly as darkness began to encroach upon the land. It had been another full day of festivities, brimming with various talents and acts unlike anything the golden girl had ever seen. Her heart had filled with a sense of longing at the sights and sounds, her own talents buried beneath the weight of vengeance. She could imagine it though, her artwork place on display here -- perhaps selling a piece or two for a decent coin. Her lips twitched ruefully, bitterness squeezing against every beat of her heart. It was barbed like thorns, a dig of guilt at every turn that it was she who had been saved -- and not those that she loved. Her beloved mother’s face still haunted her, that last sad smile before the darkness enveloped her.
It had taken years for her to find comfort in the darkness again, even the one that existed behind her eyelids. Sleep still evaded her on most nights, though they were becoming less and less with the passage of time. Her gaze shifted across the way, passing over the various merchants and their wares up towards the stage where a dark colored mare was dancing. She was beautiful, in an assortment of veils and coin -- perhaps a gypsy of some kind although Lei could not be sure.
She turned her back just as the woman finished her display, an ear turning back towards the applause, as she stands amidst the crowd. People from every race and faction linger in the festival grounds, conversations being murmured between couples or tea being shared among friends. Delumine is flourishing, blooming like the flowers in the meadow and for the briefest of moments -- the golden daughter can imagine what peace feels like again. She should like to bring this feeling back home, to Solterra, too.
She had been a refugee in this land for too long. Her heart ached for the scorching heat and glittering finery of her homeland, but fear of it had kept her away this long. Solterra was a shell of its former glory, and chaos still reigned despite a brief period of stabilization. Even now, whispers of the Davke’s coup had spread like poison -- and it made Soleil worried about her plans to return, to reclaim the glory of the Hajakha name.
She reached up to touch the golden butterfly pin, helping to hold the loose waves of her blonde hair in place. Someday She promised herself silently, absently reaching out to pluck up someone’s forgotten flower crown. Someday I will make it right again.
She admired the crown, a combination of greenery and some blue flowers that she’d never seen before. Her head twisted in both directions, sure that it’s owner would come to reclaim it -- such a pretty thing should have never been lost in the first place.
coding by Avis
05-26-2018, 10:13 AM
Played by
Obsidian [PM] Posts: 380 — Threads: 45 Signos: 25
i'm a pretty flower girl
check out my pretty flower curls
It was not Florentine’s crown that the girl holds. It was not her sea-blue flowers whose petals move in the breeze like waves rolling in to the shore.
But it is familiar, it stirs dusty memories of a childhood lost to time and magic. Florentine was only four, but she had lived for far longer than those four years and many lives too. There was nothing natural in the way the girl aged, gazing at the flower crown, she wa just as likely to remember the way she held it with dirty, human fingers as when she wore it as a filly foal.
As a street urchin, human and wild, Florentine had never had the time for flowers, but the ones Kearn had brought her. Yet as a horse, free and magical, she had woven many flower crowns with Pan. She had wound them intricately and asked her father to freeze each petal, just a little, so they glittered in the sun.
One such crown had born flowers as blue as the one Soleil holds. As though it were a flame, and Florentine its enchanted moth, the Dusk girl steps closer. Her eyes flit from the crown to its holder and back again. Her lips tip into a small smile. “Will you not wear it?” She asks of the Sun-girl, for it is easy to assume the one who holds the crown must own it too. A crown of flowers might have been the only one that Florentine would ever consider wearing, but the Terrastellan queen cannot bring herself to put one on, not even now in a festival full of flower girls. Childhood dreams of becoming a queen were as fleeting as dreams in the night. She had awoken to adulthood and blinked away such childish whimsies; being a queen was not her destiny.
@Soleil - I hope you don't mind me jumping in here <3
She does not notice the Terrastellan Queen, not at first. She is instead still looking for someone who might be looking something missing -- perhaps a child or a festival-goer. Perhaps the person who lost this item does not find it as precious as she does, the delicate flowers bruised from their rough landing on the street. A momentary sense of selfishness begs her to keep it for herself.
Will you not wear it? A voice says, drawing the sun away from her inner musings. An amethyst gaze meets her own, a woman similar unto herself at first glance offering her a smile. Her gaze drops blankly to the crown of indigo blossoms, her mind blank for a moment as she considers what the other woman has said. Wearing it had never even crossed her mind, though the girl she had once been would have delighted in such trinkets -- a spoiled girl who would not have thought twice about the true owner of this crown.
A smile spreads unconsciously upon her lips, but she does not lift the flowers towards her crown. “Afraid not,” She says, moving her gaze back to the stranger. Her tone is quiet, though amused -- more at herself than anything else. “As this particular beauty does not belong to me…” She admitted, getting a fine look at the the amethyst flowers tucked into a wave of honey-gold hair.
And although she had never seen the girl before, she is unmistakable. This, the girl of sand and sun surmised must be the Dusk Queen. Florentine Her mind whispered, as she inhaled rather sharply, not expecting to be found in idle conversation with someone so…important in a place like this. The mare is quick to drop her head in respect, her formal manners from childhood lessons that seemed like a distant memory spurred into high drive.
”Your grace. She says with a hushed reverence, not wishing to bring unwanted attention to the pair of them. She lifts her head again, strands of white-gold hair tousling. She tucks the flower crown tight to her chest, aware of the increased rate of her heart. Soleil had dreams of becoming more than just nobility, and yet here she stood just flustered by the idea of a foreign court’s queen.
”I’ve read many accounts of you and your court. The Terrastellan healers are famous for their medicines, it’s truly fascinating.” She said, her voice sweet like honey. She had spent the past few months following the inter-dramatics of the various courts. From the last Dawn King’s sudden departure, to the Dusk girl’s tryst with the Night King, to the shutting of the Night Court gates. There had been much turmoil in the land, including her home of Solterra where the Davke had began a ruthless coup -- making yet another delay in her return home. She had no desire to become another casualty. ”I am honored to make your acquaintance. I am Soleil of the noble Solterran house Hajakha.”
coding by Avis
05-30-2018, 04:28 PM
Played by
Obsidian [PM] Posts: 380 — Threads: 45 Signos: 25
always one decision away from a totally different life
-- ♕ --
She drinks in the woven crown of petals and vines. Soleil’s gaze is a wandering thing and slowly Florentine lets her gaze wander too. There is no one who looks to be bereft without their flower crown. The more the gilded girl looks, the more flower crowns she sees. The festival is a veritable sea of girls and boys adorned in flowers and paint and glitter.
Slowly her gaze returns to the Solterran girl and Florentine’s smile is mischievous enough to light the dark that creeps in with the coming night. “I think you might be safe to wear this one. There seem to be enough crowns to go around.” From beneath the wash of her fringe the girl surveys the other thoughtfully. “Or are flowers not your thing? Forgive me if so.”
A wing tip lowers to trail thoughtfully through the long stems of summer grasses. They sway with the evening breeze and Flora is sure she might hear their song, were it not for the melody of the musicians upon the stage.
Awareness dawns upon the Solterran girl and Florentine watches as her eyes widen, as her body becomes less relaxed. Each curve of her torso becomes sharper, more angular. Her nerves alight with awareness. Decorum draws itself up between the girls and Flora sighs deeply. Her wing lifts from the grasses and waves in casual dismissal. “Eh, no need.” The girl shrugs lightly, smooth like silk. “It’s quite unnecessary. It just makes me feel more awkward.” Her smile is sheepish and mischievous, “I hope you did not read too much into those stories. I fear I both cannot live up to them but also that they tell such tales about the deeds I am supposed to have committed. I should rather you offer me the chance to tell you my tales in person, Soleil.”
With her gaze lingering upon the Solterran’s delicate face for just a moment longer, Florentine lets it then slide to a distant stall. “Ah, toasted marshmallows. Might you join me?”
@Soleil | | Oh my word I am so sorry it has been so long <3 <3
The flower crown is all but forgotten, clutched so tightly that the flowers tremble in fear of being crushed. She had never had much of an opportunity to speak to royalty before, kept away from the dealings of court as a youth, thus she felt far more nervous than she expected. She was destined to be someone’s beautiful wife, unbothered by the nitty gritty details that came along with running a court. Her mother had made a specific point to keep her well away from Zolin and his less than savory tastes; filling her days instead with lessons and plenty of leisure. A life that had glittered so brightly that it threatened to blind the sun, until it had all become flames.
It was a different fire that had been stoked by the Queen’s appearance, something igniting in her heart that she would fan into flames. But it seems that Florentine would like no part in such formalities, waving away the smoke with a gentle movement of wing. Soleil hesitates, drinking in the moment for a just a hair longer. Even though the pair of women were supposedly the same age, Soleil suddenly felt like a child in her presence -- a child that very much wanted to impress the present company.
”O-oh, I do apologize.” She said, her smile faltering and becoming more shy. ”My mother would be so embarrassed…” She admitted nervously, then raised her brows -- as if she hadn’t intended to say that outloud. ”All of that fancy formal training and yet.., still so very awkward.” She explained, feeling it necessary. Internally, she wondered just how long she would have to go into hiding in order to forget such an awkward exchange. Perhaps forever. ”Of course, I should like to hear it directly from the source!” She agreed, her eyes closing as she laughed nervously at herself. ”Delumine’s books and scholars are quite capable at books, but the...well the gossip was always my favorite.”
Her gaze drops to the flower crown, forgotten up until that moment in which she considers it once more. She reaches up to nestle it upon her head, feeling the greenery catch in silk tresses. ”How does it look?”She asked, with a small chuckle. Her ears moved back and forth as if they were irritated by the new addition to the top of her crown. She then takes notice of the Queen’s direction, the smell of sugary sweets beginning to waft around them.
”Sure.” She says lightly, trying to keep from adding a formality on the end of it. ”I can’t remember the last time I had a toasted marshmallow.” And in truth, she couldn’t. Had she ever had one before? Solis’ daughter moved in the direction that the Queen had indicated, though careful not to get ahead of her in any way. It was odd enough to walk shoulder to shoulder with her, as if the pair of them were equals.
”Tell me, She said as they approached the stall that was filled to the brim with things other than toasted marshmallows. ”Do you like being a Queen?” She asked, the first question to come to mind. Her storm-cloud gaze met the fair amethyst of the Terrastellan. ”I suppose it’s different than being born into a noble house and you...you were chosen, weren’t you? The other one...the Queen before you asked you to lead in her stead, did she not?” The girl’s eyes were bright with curiosity, unaware that she might be too forward in her questions.
