[P] how can I keep from singing? - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] how can I keep from singing? (/showthread.php?tid=21388) |
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how can I keep from singing? - Tiamat - 11-04-2015 “Goodnight, Mama.” The ocean mare smiles softly, the curved point of her horn tipping back as her white eyes are raised towards the heavens, where her mother’s vigilant eye is tucked into bed for but a moment. Dusk is now quickly bleeding into night, the last rays of the sun just barely stretching over the distant horizon, offering its farewell orange glow as night descends quietly upon them. The mare’s gaze sparkles beneath the light of her sister stars as they begin to emerge, twinkling and dancing across the velvet black-blue of their stage, true prima donnas of their glittering spectacle. Chuckling breezily to herself, Tiamat begins to move forward once more, her gaze slowly descending to sweep across her shadowed surroundings. In all her wanderings across Helovia’s wilds (granted, she does not have as much of a traveler’s heart as some others, but her curiosity is often far too great to swallow, even if her heart is sure to call her home before too long) at any rate, this is a place that the blue mare has never seen before. She is sure that she would have remembered the verdant fields of purple, colored a cool amethyst in the moon’s blushing light, broken only by the bubbling streams and occasional oak tree, which stand like guardians in the night. She feels her breath caught for a moment, basking in the beauty of nature, its treasured splendors never ceasing to enchant her. It seems so calm and peaceful in this magnificent place, sheltered from the rest of the chaos that has been churning throughout Helovia lately, that Tiamat feels as though she could almost forget it all. The distress and anxieties that have weighed heavily across her shoulders are suddenly lifted, her spirits buoyed by nature itself. Breathing in the fresh, warm air of summer, the ocean mare glides forward happily, nearly dancing in her heartened grace. Perhaps—it could always be this way. Couldn’t it? Sweeping through the thistle grasses, Tiamat soon finds herself at the water’s edge, cloven blue hooves perching delicately at its damp banks. “What a pleasure to meet you, brother,” she murmurs happily, the soprano chime of her voice mingling with the brook’s soft trickling like the pattering of rain to a puddle. Nostrils curling in breathy laughter, she lowers her fine head, silken lips breaking through the glassy surface to drink. The moon’s luminous light casts a halo over her slender body, colored softly by the final golden fingers of day. She would have every moment be as this one, were it possible. Perhaps—then—it could always be this way. notes; For Ciceronnnn:D “Speech.” RE: how can I keep from singing? - Ciceron - 11-04-2015
RE: how can I keep from singing? - Tiamat - 11-05-2015 One tulip-shaped ear rotates when the stallion clears his throat, the mare’s head soon following as it rises from the bubbling stream, beads of clear water dripping from her lips. Her eyes meet his just as he greets her, their pale depths glittering beneath the light of the stars, ever eager and ever delighted to meet someone new. “Hello!” Tiamat welcomes him with a pleasant enthusiasm, her own soprano voice much higher than the stallion’s, dancing lightly along the warm summer breeze. “I’m Tiamat, is there something I can help you with?” Her kindly smile lingers on her lips as the ocean mare shifts her position, angling her body so that she faces the dappled stallion directly. There is something familiar about him, something she can’t quite pinpoint just yet—the memories come slowly to her, tiptoeing at the very fringes of her consciousness, just tantalizingly out of reach. Tiamat presses her lips together, her blue brow knitting together in the short moment it takes for her to piece the puzzle together. “Do I know—” she begins to question him, because perhaps he would be able to give an answer (if he is feeling the same way at all), but recognition suddenly comes to her in a wave of clarity. “You—” The mare’s voice is a breath of jubilation, doe-eyes widening and her smile broadening in her excitement (she has never been one to “reign it in” very well, and it is evident now as every fiber of her body seems to tingle eagerly beneath her skin). “Yes! You’re one of the stallions that protected Enna!” Of course! How could she not have known right away? She can see it now…she remembers her Lord standing near, and another—a dappled stranger—who had also taken it upon himself to protect the unconscious Time Mender. With the length of her leonine tail arcing and swaying happily behind her, Tiamat steps closer to the stallion, continuing in a rush of words “The last battle with the Earth God, one of my friends fell unconscious, and you stood to guard her,” she does not know if he needs an explanation, or if he remembers the incident at all (so many things have happened lately, so many battles), or if he already knows who Enna is—in any case, Tiamat just wants him to recognize what he had so graciously done. Warmth suddenly swells within the ocean mare’s chest, spreading throughout her bones and illuminating her expression. She is so, so very grateful for what he had done, it doesn’t seem right to overbear her appreciation with flowery words of gratitude. “Thank you,” she says simply, fervently, from the very confidence of her heart. Her white eyes seek his silver gaze, hoping to convey the depth of her appreciation, hoping that he will understand. “Thank you so much.” Tiamat reaches out to him, offering a silken muzzle to his cheek. Normally she would embrace him, so strong is her gratitude and intimate is her heart, but she manages to refrain—they’ve only just met officially, after all. She doesn’t want to scare him off. “Speech.” RE: how can I keep from singing? - Ciceron - 11-06-2015
RE: how can I keep from singing? - Tiamat - 11-13-2015 The dappled gray stallion introduces himself like a true gentleman, complimenting her company and bowing his head in a respectful show of chivalry. “I could say the same, Ciceron,” the ocean mare beams sincerely, the warmth of her smile uninhibited despite their unfamiliarity with one another, and she returns the favor with a dainty curtsy of her curved horn, white eyes alight and shining like the stars when they rise to him once more. She feels fortunate to have come across him this night, and praise him with the admiration he deserves (she knows that many similar, generous acts go unnoticed or unacknowledged—but that is what makes them so selfless, isn’t? Their pursuit to help, rather than gain recognition). Even so, her heart warms with her gratitude. Everyone likes to hear such nice things, don’t they? She couldn’t possibly have deprived Ciceron of her fervent appreciation. The blue mare’s gratitude rises and blooms with excitement when she sees remembrance flutter across his face, tulip-shaped ears pressing forward to catch his deep voice. She nods, pressing her lips together as a silent breath is blown from her nostrils. “Prevent it all from happening,” Tiamat agrees, returning his gentle grin with one of her own. The battles have cast a weight that is sometimes difficult to shoulder, her good heart dismayed and wrought with all of the violence and hate, but it is over now. She can’t allow herself to linger in the shadows of grief. “I haven’t seen her since the battle,” Tiamat replies to his inquiry of Enna’s wellbeing, her doe eyes returning to Ciceron from where they had wandered. It is more of an admission, her features nearly becoming embarrassed (the little mare hasn’t left her mind since then, and she had looked for her, but perhaps not as intently as she should have) before she continues. “But her wounds will stave off infection, at least, and she was sound enough to rise and remove herself from the battle.” Tiamat nods once, her smile growing more assuredly again, “She is also a gifted healer, so I think we needn’t worry anymore.” The ocean mare’s confidence in the young Time Mender doesn’t waver, giving her the assurance and comfort she needs to hope for the best—Enna is safe and sound, she knows it. Brushing her lion tail across the ground, the mare’s features brighten when Ciceron accepts her kindly offer, their warm breaths mingling in the summer air. “Thank you again,” she murmurs once more, sure that it will never be enough. Pulling slowly back from him, she rests her weight comfortably, one slender hip dipping sharply to the side. “What brings you out tonight, Ciceron? Do you wander often?” “Speech.” RE: how can I keep from singing? - Ciceron - 11-19-2015
RE: how can I keep from singing? - Tiamat - 11-20-2015 “I’m sure you would,” the ocean mare smiles softly, tenderly, sure that this stallion’s heart is as unadulterated and generous as the gallant knight she remembers at the Earth God’s battle—readily defending any damsel or poor person in need. It makes her heart burn with a warm glow to meet such a respectable character, overwhelmed by his goodness, and proud to know that the world’s dark shadows have not smothered his light (of course, Tiamat is naïve from many of life’s cruelties, sheltered in her own innocence, and cannot fathom what hardships this gentleman might have been forced to face). She only sees his grace now, in this moment, and assumes the best. Suddenly, there is movement through the illuminated darkness, a white streak of a predatory animal leaping towards the dappled stallion. “Oh my goodness—Ciceron—!” The ocean mare gasps in horror, trying to warn him, her heart leaping into her throat as her body moves forward. However, just as she takes a step to try and help him, the striped animal—a tiger, she now realizes—perches on the stallion’s back. The blue mare’s muscles grow tense as she stops her advancement, her brow knitting together in a moment of confusion. “Are you alright?” There is still a sense of urgent concern that lingers in her voice, not understanding the situation yet—but when Ciceron turns to the animal, seeming to give her some sort of glance, the tension in Tiamat’s chest slowly begins to release. Finally, she realizes that there is no danger here. “Oh,” she nearly laughs at herself, nodding when the gray stallion explains and introduces the tiger as Kiara, “Hello, Kiara! I’m Tiamat.” She offers a bright smile to the animal, hoping that no offense was taken at her reaction. “You’re companions?” White eyes flicker between the two, fluted ears pressing forward in her curiosity. Tiamat does not know an extensive amount about the bond, not having experienced it herself, but she recognizes it as a beautiful and reverent thing. She has never seen a companion like Kiara before—but it would seem that there isn’t a limit on what species can be bonded. Exhaling quietly when Ciceron continues, she offers a warm, assenting smile. “That’s not a bad idea, I like to see the wonders of Helovia myself. Never know when someone might need some help.” Tiamat winks playfully, white eyes glistening beneath her sister stars, the delicate lines of her face thrown into contrast by the faint light of dusk. “I’m kind of on my way home—I’m from the Basin. Taking the scenic route, I suppose,” the ocean mare laughs airily, the shells in her hair chiming to compliment the sweet sound. Her heart lies in the mountains, but she is in no hurry to rush her way. “Where are you from, Ciceron?” She peers up at him curiously, leonine tail swaying gently behind her. “Speech.” RE: how can I keep from singing? - Ciceron - 12-01-2015
@Tiamat RE: how can I keep from singing? - Tiamat - 12-11-2015 The young blue mare eyes both the stallion and his tiger, a hint of wariness lingering along the lines of her expression, stemmed from the concern that continues to squeeze her heart. She is not necessarily frightened—it is only her instincts, telling her that this picture is abnormal and potentially dangerous. However, there is a much larger voice—the voice of her trust, and the knowledge that bonded companions are a magnificent thing—that quells her wariness. Ciceron’s assurance subdues it completely, and a genuine smile returns to her soft lips. “Good to hear that,” Tiamat looks to Kiara and gives the tigress a dainty, almost reverent nod of her head. Accepting the dappled stallion’s gesture eagerly, she presses her muzzle to his once more, his manly scent and warm breath tickling her nostrils. This simple motion both calms and excites the ocean mare. It soothes her to have proximity to one as kind as him, his chivalry and generosity electrifying her tender heart, as it does whenever she is fortunate enough to witness the goodness of this world. Many would say such lights are rare in this dark world, but Tiamat is not so despairing (or naïve perhaps, but it is her naivety that keeps her pure and hopeful). Pulling away when Ciceron continues, Tiamat’s smile softens admirably as he talks of his relationship with his companion. It is heartening to hear. “I’m not too terribly familiar with how ‘bonding’ works—though it seems like a beautiful thing. It must be wonderful to have each other,” the reflection of the stars shine in her eyes as the mare looks to each of them, so at ease with one another, and so connected. Tiamat has hardly ever felt alone (since her mother sky is always watching with a devoted eye) but she cannot deny how wonderful it would be—it is truly a gift. Fluted ears pricking forward at the mention of the Hidden Falls, the ocean mare laughs blithely at the stallion’s joke, her eyes momentarily following where he had gestured. “I’m sure it is,” she says before looking back to him, her laughter still lingering in the merry curve of her lips, “the Basin’s winter nights can be quite unforgiving, especially for one built like myself, but the herd takes care of us—there are always fires glowing, and hot springs to keep yourself comfortable.” She speaks fondly of the mountainous valley, a hint of wistfulness lacing her tone and lighting her eyes. It is her home, and she loves it dearly, not imagining living anywhere else. Nevertheless, she knows very little about the other three herd lands. While they might not reach the high level that the Basin has set in her heart, she doesn’t doubt that they are all beautiful and hospitable in their own right. She wonders about his home. Ultimately, her curiosity is much too great to swallow, and she questions the dappled stallion, taking a step forward as she does so. “What is the Hidden Falls like? Have you lived there long?” Tiamat’s head tilts slightly in her interest, white doe-eyes round with silent anticipation of his answers. “Speech.” |