Novus
Hello, Guest! Register

Private  - my home was never on the ground

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)



Played by Offline Scapeh [PM] Posts: 7 — Threads: 1
Signos: 260
Dawn Court Scholar
Female [She/Her/Hers] // 3 [Year 502 Fall] // 16 hh // Hth: 16 — Atk: 4 — Exp: 10 // Active Magic: N/A // Secondary Magic: // Bonded: N/A
#1



Torielle



have you any
D R E A M S
you’d like to sell




IS
this what death feels like? Perhaps it is the worry of some; that death is a void, a never ending loop. A soul’s insanity. But if my soul had somehow moved forward, I should have felt something. At least, that’s what I would have to assume. After all, even when making small journeys, just the right jolt to your corporeal form would cause some response, if not simply snap you back into place. But in all your planes you’ve felt the passage of time, and yet here, there is nothing. The idea was startling, but not necessarily upsetting. My intuition, my love for Gaia, they settled the rolling feeling in my abdomen. This place was some kind of in-between, of that I was sure. I seemed to step through endless stars, balancing on the unseen and my footing sure as could be in the vastness, always towards a soft glow on the horizon. Its distance from me changed imperceptibly, and it was this that sparked the thought that perhaps instead of lifting me to greater understanding, my earth mother had freed me from all earthly things. After all, I felt no pain, no hunger, no thirst, and no weariness to my bones. Perhaps this journey is to teach you patience, young one. Patience is key to fullness of understanding, and to a greater love of all things. 


It was my distraction with this train of thought, almost like a meditation, that I failed to notice that I had been getting closer to my goal on the horizon. The soft light gradually filled the void space around me, populating it at first with sparse trees of coarse grey bark, tall as can be. As my steps took me further, the trees thickened, gaining individual personality, shape, varying hues of grey. Their branches twisted around each other like lovers, and I knew that in full splendor they were rich with leaves that would leave a thick canopy of shade, filtering a green dappled glow at mid-sun. There were remnants of bushes and foliage, curled upon themselves for the winter had settled a thick blanket of snow upon the land. 


I had an urge to turn my head to look behind me, but I shook it with a twitch of my flank. I knew that the void would have faded with each step, and even if I had wanted to return to the in-between, I would be unable to. My audits flicked, listening to the silence of the forest around me, my pistons coming to a slow stop, reveling in the thick sound of days old snow crushed under-hoof. I had not realized how temperate the void space had been until I noticed the plume of warmth curling into the air from my nares as I breathed. My pelt twitched again, and the soft pressure of planes travel slowly faded, replaced by the brisk touch of the early morning atmosphere. 


I saw to my left flank the sky fading to a soft lilac hue. That must be the east, and sunrise a short time away. Though the chill was beginning to seep into the silver I wore upon my neck, a small smile graced my lips. Sunrise and moonrise were perhaps my two favorite things to observe, and where better than a quiet forest muffled in snow?


It never failed to awe me how much snow could affect the environment around it. Not only could it dust any surface with glittering beauty, but it brought a stillness to the world wherever it went. Both in a literal and figurative sense. Snow, when either falling or when gathered in copious amounts did wonders to dampen sound. Some would say they could go mad surrounded by a snowy landscape, and I suppose that could be right. If the mind was unused to such measured stillness it could be rather unsettling. What sound was produced never traveled very far and always seemed just a touch warped, as if the snow itself wanted to hush your movements. And yet, there was a deep allure, a calm that brought troubled minds to seek beautiful spaces with thick blankets of it. I firmly believed that Gaia brought forth snow to provide others with a place of quiet contemplation. A place where they could whisper all their secrets and know they would be kept safe, and all their troubles would melt away with the coming dawn and that they would be free. What an exhilarating thought. 

My pelt shivered once more, but less from the cold and more from excitement. My silver made a soft tinkling, as if fairies laughing with agreement, delighted by the thought. Something told me deep in my gut that I would be witnessing a most beautiful sunrise in a strange new land that could offer me the beginning of everything. The quiet determination that had settled in my gut flared with a bright new life. Gaia had brought me here to teach me all that I had asked of her, and much, much more. 

”Shall we?” I breathed with merriment as I oriented towards the coming sunrise and set course for a clear view of what was sure to be a spectacular sight.








"SPEAKS"   THINKS | @Andras  @Cannon






Reply




Played by Offline Cannon [PM] Posts: 118 — Threads: 21
Signos: 0
Dawn Court Warden
Male [He/Him/His] // 5 [Year 500 Fall] // 14 hh // Hth: 15 — Atk: 25 — Exp: 27 // Active Magic: Arc Flash // Secondary Magic: // Bonded: N/A
#2




AND I KNOW THAT ROME WASN'T BURNT IN A DAY
BUT IT COULDN'T HAVE BEEN MORE THAN A WEEK


A
ndras follows her tracks through the woods: a single, meandering series of hoofprints pressed into the snow like a cup. He wonders why he expects them to be red, red, red as the poppy field or the moon seen through films of ash or--

He is a dark spot on the bleak winter sun, carving his way through the last browned leaves still clutching on to the canopy and watching them fall in his wake. The shadow he casts looks like a vulture, just another savage thing on the increasingly long list of savage things out here in the woods before sunrise. He follows her tracks, the path they slice through snow, and finds her just before the sun peeks the ends of its fingers over the distant mountain peaks. It will still be some time, he thinks.

There are no red prints the whole journey long. There is no blood-- and that's what he's expecting, blood on blood on blood--frozen to the bases of trees. There is no pit in the heart of the woods full of rare bones and furs.

He hates that a part of him is almost disappointed, a crawling feeling in his gut. He hates that he finds her, quiet and still in the woods, smiling fondly to herself, and Andras wishes for something more. He cannot quite tell if he craves the nightmare that was the past year, or if he is so used to it at this point that to see some face not twisted in misery feels strange and upsetting in a way he can't handle. The ferocity with which this strange mix of sadness and fear and anger hits him is alarming.

The warden lands in a cloud of snowflakes and lightning that sticks to his glasses, his back, and his face. It is smooth but not graceful."Where are you going?" he asks through clenched teeth. It feels like tepid anger. It feels like a blunted sword. When he follows her eyes toward the rising sun, it feels like something more rotten than he wants to remember.

He hates it.
"--and, who are you?"
@Torielle | speaks

ANDRAS, WARDEN OF DELUMINE





they made you into a weapon
and told you to find peace.

Reply




Played by Offline Scapeh [PM] Posts: 7 — Threads: 1
Signos: 260
Dawn Court Scholar
Female [She/Her/Hers] // 3 [Year 502 Fall] // 16 hh // Hth: 16 — Atk: 4 — Exp: 10 // Active Magic: N/A // Secondary Magic: // Bonded: N/A
#3



Torielle



have you any 
D R E A M S
you’d like to sell




IF
his intent was to frighten me, then perhaps somewhere there is a person waiting to bestow a ribbon for best performance. I’d had only a moment to register the looming shadow as it passed over me, tickling my spine with an electric chill I didn’t quite understand until the frame of the beast dropped in front of me. Though, perhaps beast was not the proper term. A nightmare. A god. Yes, perhaps that. Though my frame was taller, his was built for war. For hard work, and harsh things. Underneath the black as black coat, underneath the dancing lightning and snow He must be a god, some nightmarish hell deity from beyond pure muscle rippled, coiled and posed to strike like a serpent in the grass. The only thing that perhaps made him seem mortal, something that brought my racing heart down from a terrified flutter to a more rhythmic pattern, was the presence of the spectacles. I’m sure my face contorted freely before him, from fear, to awe, to confusion. 

And then he spoke. Not to a general presence he felt, not to my direction, not to the idea of me, to me. This, more than his sudden appearance That lightning, so pure and subtle and bright and crackling and is perhaps what startled me the most. No one, short of another Planes-Walker, had ever spoken directly to me before. But no Planes-Walker I had ever seen controlled the elements as he did. We had magic, incantations, potions, spells, but nothing like this. Only the gods could have mastery over elements, only the gods could take the universe into their being and manipulate it at will. Magic in my homeland was akin to a child asking permission to use their parents’ tools to demonstrate a parlor trick. And half the time those parents would chuckle at the attempt and give you a pat for your troubles, now run along and play nice with the others. 

But if this being Regal, strong, frightening  could see me, could address me, then regardless of my previous astral experiences, I must treat him with the utmost respect. I stepped back, and bowed deeply, the various silver on my body tinkling softly as a small brook in spring. I took a deep breath, bringing the cold air into my lungs, soothing the fiery ache in my chest and the roiling in my gut. I stayed low, grounding myself, finding my center and enveloping my thoughts in a cozy blanket of calm. When my lips moved, I made my words strong, clear and respectful. 

”My apologies, Sir. I am a visitor in your realm and had not realized my presence would cause a disturbance.” I took another deep breath and rose again to my height, though I kept my stance perhaps a bit more slight, more delicate. I was not a threat, had never been, regardless of the sharp points on my crown. If he decided I was an enemy target that must be eliminated I stood no more chance than a rabbit did a hungry jackal. ”I have been traveling a long while and was simply looking forward to watching a beautiful sunrise.” 

I tried to keep my eye contact brief. There is truth that they are windows to the soul, and the particularly astute can see a lot of things if one knows how to look. I have been told since a child that my tendency to keep eye contact can be very intimidating, and in this instance I feared my old habit may well get me into trouble. Still, it would be rude to avoid them entirely. For the moment that they connected, beyond the spectacles and between the flickers of lightning, the overwhelming sense rage filled me. Not necessarily directed at me, but a rage for existence, perhaps. Rage like that is not something we are often born with. That kind of hatred spawns from other things far deeper embedded to a person than could be uncovered from one glance. Emotion that pure could only be from the source, and the crawling in my spine that told me I may very well be dealing with a powerful entity only cemented. 

I hoped that in those few seconds we held each other’s gaze that my dark pools were like an open well. I hoped that they did not hide secrets, and did not give him a reason to think my travel was an attempt to invade or be cross or disrespectful. I hoped that he could sense my genuine surprise, I hoped that he could sense the flutter of my heart in my chest, and I hoped above all else that he could sense I was at my core a gentle soul. I meant him and his lands no harm, and in one last bid to prove it I provided him with an answer to his final question. ”If it pleases you, Sir, you may call me Torielle.” 

If my instincts were true, I had given my name, though not quite in the fae sense, but given nonetheless, to a god. Gaia preserve my soul if he chose to harm me with it now.










SPEAKS”  THINKS | @Andras 






Reply





Forum Jump: