[O] te ma ruara, te ma re - 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: [O] te ma ruara, te ma re (/showthread.php?tid=22112) |
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te ma ruara, te ma re - Mauja - 12-25-2015 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams And they all came rolling in, like the thunder, like the tide, a gathering of noise and blood and warmth—hearts beating, lungs breathing, eyes bright and merry. Their exhalations rose like white clouds in the darkness, straining towards the distant, starry sky but fading before they came anywhere at all. And all the while, the bells kept on jingling, a sound so divine and so bright it made his heart ache—
This evening, it never came at a set time. It always changed when it appeared, the magnificent turtle moving to some different calendar he could not, for the love of everything, figure out; he just came when he wanted, spreading a touch of winter and a hint of cheer, bathing them all in a perplexing sense of tranquility. There was no arguing. There was no fighting, no brawling, no old feuds called to life—just peace. Just.. a very peculiar sense of acceptance, of simply.. bobbing along where the stream took them, spinning in its warm, careful touch. Tonight, and only tonight, Mauja could trust in that feeling, in those steadfast hands carrying him safely through, without letting sharp rocks bump his knees or thorns snag him. Tonight, and no other night, and he closed his eyes so that he would not have to see the others who milled about, exclaiming in wonder, sharing quiet greetings and celebrations—so that he could be alone in his dark, warm peace, floating under starlight. But they would not let him be—and why would they? He was practically shining in the crisp light, a white bonfire standing out against the dark backdrop, lost behind his eyelids and the white curtain of his forelock. A nicker ear-marked Mauja floated into his soft ears, and they flicked forward, and his eyes opened. The blue seemed nearly silver in the moonlight. The nicker had been kind, not at all angry and intrusive, a gentle touch, and as his gaze swiveled (and heart despaired at the throng of Helovians still pouring in; there were too many of them) it settled upon Mesec—the moon-child. d'Artagnan's firstborn son. The unholy progeny of a mad doctor and a bitchy goddess. He had seen Mesec on offhand occasions throughout the years—in the Edge and the Basin, he had tried to always have a kind smile for the boy when they met, and now, the roles were reversed. Tentatively, he smiled back, dark lips curving. Mesec had grown. Gone was the leggy, awkward youth sandwiched between d'Artagnan and Mauja at a meeting, gone was the bitter, hurt, questioning anger that boiled beneath the surface—instead, there stood a handsome stallion, whose smile and eyes seemed so much more at peace with the world. Maybe he had found himself, or at least pieces of it; maybe he had made his peace with his past, and enjoyed life, now. Maybe he had a purpose, a feeling of belonging, of being needed and loved, a reason for his heart to beat. And then, the moon-child looked away, back to the tree, to the gathering, to all of those who had enough strength of mind to simply pour in and chit-chat and smile at strangers and do all those things Mauja wasn't strong enough to do—so he remained rooted, surrounded by the chill touch of the night, and not the melodic laughter of friends, and their soft, warm embraces. Even Mesec, standing on the edges, seemed to belong despite the distance between them. "Need some company, my friend?" He's not talking to you— But as Mauja's white head turned, the Seer was looking at him, standing only a few feet away. Alune's eyes were strange; they seemed blind, if not for the way their focus was trained on him, reflecting the glow of the stars and the moon. They were .. warm. Concerned, even. They were staring right at him, his words playing over and over in his head (—a counterpoint to the depth of disappointment as Tembovu changed his path and headed elsewhere); friend, and the bells jingled and the Helovians laughed and maybe, just maybe, some of the tension fell from Mauja's spine. Maybe he was alone, only as long as he made himself alone. "Yes," he breathed, as if the word was sacrilege, as if it was a knife about to cut if said too loudly—as if it had the power to turn the world into glass, and shatter it. He was afraid of Alune's eyes going hard and cold like stone, and his voice to grow scathing and biting, and laugh at him for his stupidity—he was afraid of being made alone. But before anything else had the chance to happen, Glacia was next to him, her approach lost in the muddle of his fear and the press of bodies still tumbling in; her muzzle brushed across his hide, a tingling warmth left in its wake. Wordlessly he reached over to tug at her forelock, but she did not linger—her haunted eyes slipped past him, and the rest of her body followed, ambling along towards the turtle. Mauja frowned. That was not like her (—except you don't know her, do you?). "What..." he murmured, squinting after her, hearing her voice shear through the thrumming mess of sounds, shouting a name—Rhoa. It rang no bells, but she was facing the direction of Gaucho, and what Mauja presumed was his army of offspring. With that many, he had to be a worse father than Mauja. Slowly, his attention shifted back to Alune, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. It showed in the depths of his eyes, in the shadow of his smile. "That was Glacia, my youngest daughter." And somewhere in the throng, he saw Sialia too, and the way she looked at their daughter, moving closer, and the unease he had been denying became a leaden, dread weight in the pit of his belly. His eyes swept back to Alune, trying to find them, lock with them; it was hard to tell where the Seer was seeing (hah). "Something's wrong," he said quietly, before disentangling himself from his spot and starting to skirt around the meeting, heading towards Glacia. [ Title is nonsense. Tagging .. lots of people .. as this is a direct continuation of the Giving Tree, but up to you guys if you want to bounce in here or not ^^ @Alune @Glacia @Rhoa @Mesec ] Mauja
the white queen RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Mesec - 12-25-2015
my new favourite hobby appears to be involving Mesec in drama that has nothing to do with him ;D RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Glacia - 12-29-2015
@Rhoa I hope this isn't to much, or concieved as power playing cause I swears I wasn't trying to. >.< RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Rhoa - 01-02-2016
RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Sialia - 01-02-2016
Base Code: Tamme Art & Customization: Goatfairy RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Ivezho - 01-10-2016
Ivezho
The crowd swelled further, pulsing, and with each pulse, growing. For the creature of solitude that Ivezho had taken to being recently, the sheer numbers he saw nearly overwhelmed him - but he lingered, he held fast, to see the wonder that was the ancient, generous turtle before them. A kerfuffle nearby turned his attention away from the great creature, he found himself watching his brother's form weave through the crowd. A small frown alighted upon his brow, concern evident as he nodded quietly to Eldala and moved off to follow. Their recent reunion had been heated, but they had resolved their relationship - Ivezho could only hope that his dark brother would accept his support, even if it was all he could do but stand silently by his side, a stoic monument of the shared bloodlines that flow through their veins. So the beast followed his brother named for the same, excusing himself as he gently nudged his way around one soul or another, determined to make it to his brother's side. He was close, so close, when the mare announced that Ivezho was to be an uncle. The tall grullo paused in his step, surprised at the news. He looked to the unicorn who had made the call, looked to the others that were gathered. Glacia, he heard his brother shout, and the shout spurs Ivezho back into action. He swiftly closes what gap is left between he and Rhoa, and offers his maw through a gentle nudge against the dark shoulder of his brother in silent support, as the supposed mother of the mare (Rhoa's mother-in-law?) arrived and told him to go after Glacia. Whatever happened, Ivezho would remain by his brother's side, a lanky giant, a silent guard, an attempt to show whatever support he could for his brother who was clearly a bit overwhelmed. Awkward Ivez is awkward, standing by @Rhoa veerdesigns | larfsalot on deviantart RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Mauja - 01-11-2016 but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams There was an urgency to it—to the way Glacia wove between the bodies, the way he wove through the bodies, with Mesec in tow, and the way that Sialia shoved her way through the throng—an odd star of a pattern, with Glacia at its center-point. Strange, how a single being, a single child, could bring so many together, spread to the corners of the world as they were: and yet, congregating here, moths drawn to a flickering, bright flame. Mauja's ears were slick to his neck, his eyes haunted and dark as he wriggled his way through the crowd, fighting to not scream and run everyone down.
It was what he wanted. It would be the most immediate way to fix the problem and make himself a path to his daughter, but sadly, it would leave him with about ten thousand other unsolved problems and a lot of apologies to make. Something he didn't want to do, and besides, there was still that thing in the air, a deep sense of contentment choking the flow of anger in his veins, settling like a comforting blanket across his mind—an odd kind of belief that it would be alright, even if it took a little longer to get to her. Besides, she had paused, and as he and Sialia both were almost upon her; his shoulders perhaps bumped into a few more a little roughly as he wove through the crowd, intent on reaching her. "Mom... Dad... I'm so sorry..." What was she talking about? Being sorry about what? Being sad? Running away? How many of his stupid, stupid traits and defense mechanisms had she inherited?! Running away solved nothing but if no one had ever taught her otherwise— Then she was moving off again, striding through the crowd, until a yell broke the tranquility for a split second—Rhoa, she cried for him again, and in the horde of bodies one broke the pattern. He came towards them, the final point in their odd star, a tall, lanky boy, dark gray or black, white legs, black barring, wings, very pleasant eyes. He seemed eager to reach Glacia, to reach them, the mismatched little group crowding around the panicked girl, and if not for the fact that Glacia wanted to speak to this Rhoa, Mauja could've suspected about one thousand different, bad things that had transpired between them. But turns out, it was none of that. "You're going to be a father..." It was almost like someone had dropped a bomb on all the other ones gathered—poor Rhoa, looking stunned but not displeased, his silent wing-man who looked like an inverted version of himself, Sialia, struck into silence. Mauja just flicked his ears forward, fighting the urge to laugh at the irony of it all. But then Glacia broke, and she ran, and Mauja hitched forward a step but there were too many bodies in the way, and not even Rhoa could follow—perhaps there wasn't enough space to spread those wings of his, or perhaps he did not know if he was welcome to follow her. "Fuck," he growled into the emptiness; what she needed was not to be alone, what she needed was comfort, for someone to tell her that it was okay, that everything would be alright, that she was loved and cared for and her baby would be, too. She needed someone to hold her tight and warm her against the cold emptiness of the night, someone to fight off her fears for her, and whisper encouragement in her ears when she needed to hear it. Mauja struck the ground, once, and the poor boy left behind attempted to introduce himself but faltered into a silence, in which Sialia struck like a merciless snake. "Shut up Sialia," Mauja said wearily, his voice lacking anger—it was just an unfortunate choice of words, really, but he was too jammed in the head to think. "I care about who he is." Sometimes you were stupid. Sometimes you did things that would have consequences you didn't expect to get, or seemed unlikely. Sometimes, you just didn't think. Rhoa looked young, Glacia certainly was young. Who could blame them? And Glacia cared about Rhoa, or Rhoa's opinion, and Rhoa seemed to care about Glacia, and thus, Mauja cared about Rhoa. So, he reached out, to bump his plush muzzle against the dark horse's neck. "Go on, you'll be fine. She needs you, even if she's too dumb to realize it is okay to be afraid, and to cry." But then Sialia was contending for his attention, and his pale eyes switched to her. Of course she was worried. Of course she was a crude bitch, and of course the trait was only further accentuated by her worry and care. But, if you asked Mauja, this was already enough of a fucked-up, difficult situation, and they didn't need to make it more unpleasant for anyone, now, did they? And since when had he become a pacifier? "Sialia," he said, some warmth overpowering his deep, profound exhaustion with all things that wrenched at your heart. "I hope you have been well." [ @Mesec @Sialia @Rhoa @Ivezho @Alune ] Mauja
the white queen RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Alune - 01-12-2016 Glimmer in the moonlight
Alune had lingered near the once-queen, quiet and thoughtful in his stance. He had offered to keep Mauja company during the giving tree, and so he had lingered when more had turned to the white queen. However now, it was his turn to look as though he was gazing through a window. Watching two families become one through the actions of the younger generation. The Seer would confess that he didn't know intimately the detailing of personal family life, and what it entailed, for his own life had been given to the public of Thal'Sharah. His entire youth had been forged by Gods and Goddesses, Queens and her Council as well as the priests and priestesses of the Halls he came to know as home. His sire and dam had known that the moment they had gazed upon his hide, their idea of a intimacy had been shattered and reforged in the knowledge that their second son was not their own. He could sympathize to a degree, in his wanderings of what emotions they must be facing, as well as what he felt he would be feeling if he was in a more frontal position. When the speckled mare tore away like the surf on high tide, the lunar stallion followed her with his gaze with veiled look of concern. Alune's silvered gaze goes between Sialia and Mauja respectively, bowing his crowned head respectively to each. Then to the two brothers in front of them he turns his gaze, it settled on them for a longer moment as he assessed them and in the next breath that exhaled from his pale muzzle he nodded to them. Especially the one Glacia had addressed, he needed to go to after the mare and comfort her. "If you're in capable hands, I can leave you in peace if you wish." He addressed to Mauja, offering the spotted stallion a warm smile. Despite his desire to keep the other company and see that he was more than a wraith, he also knew that he may be stepping on hooves with his presence and that was never his intention, these were matters of home and hearth. Only shadows go where we are @Mesec @Sialia @Rhoa @Ivezho RE: te ma ruara, te ma re - Mesec - 01-19-2016 literally just a short 'he's leaving to go somewhere else' post but I wanted to make his departure official haha
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