[O] gracious blip - 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] gracious blip (/showthread.php?tid=23615) |
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gracious blip - Hawezi - 04-14-2016
@Orithia @Dacianna RE: gracious blip - Dacianna - 04-15-2016
@Hawezi do you like to be tagged Wand? RE: gracious blip - Tembovu - 04-19-2016 the elephant king
The Elephant rose early, if he slept at all (although, as of late, peaceful slumber had found more often than usual). And, this morning, after dozing parts of the night away while standing watch over his Queen and their son (but not too close of a watch, Elsa did not enjoy his restlessness), he had awoken long before the the sun and slipped into the thick mist on roving legs. He had walked along the border, mentally noting the ares of glass and the areas free from shards. He wove along deer paths, taking heed of where they were. These were mindless tasks, serving merely to pass the time until the rest of the Edge awoke. Mbwene, however, enjoyed her rest. The small elephant stayed in her nest of dried leaves whenever her bonded went wandering; though she had not yet made movements to rest along with Hawezi and Elsa— because that seemed like leaving her big bonded. So she stayed, alone, curled as a wrinkled ball on crinkled leaves. Alone— just as her Elephant was wandering. But time passed fluidly and quickly, as it does in mindless solitude, and the sun rose in the sky. Black-rimmed ears perk forward as the sound of crunching snow sinks into their funnels. A gaze cast around him, realizing that he was close to the dragon who watched over the stockpile of shattered glass. Two-toned legs begin to move, he should probably warn whoever was near about the razor-sharp pile he, Anzanie, and Alysanne had stockpiled ages ago. Navy eyes alight on not one, but two equines— and, truly, he has sights only for the small colt mouthing (biting?) the glass dragon. The colt, his son. An ear flicked towards the gray mare, a glance flashed in her direction, before sweeping to full attention towards the youth. His sharp, brief inspection yielded no bloody, jagged tracks torn by the stockpile of glass. And so, a grin upon his muzzle, he turned his attention towards the decorated, Riftian mare— though his hooves still carried him closer to the glass dragon and his child. “Dacianna, it is good to see you,” his low voice rumbles in greeting as his head drops, dipping towards Hawezi. He caught the view of slobber upon the wing, “I’m sure your mother isn’t starving you, my son,” his deep roll vibrated with amusement, muzzle reaching to bump his colt’s neck. And in his chest was nothing but light. tembovu Papa Bovu is here to hover XD @Hawezi @Dacianna RE: gracious blip - Orithia - 04-21-2016
It would be a lie to say that she had gotten any sleep last night. She had stood between trees, a glowing wraith made of mist and moonlight, watching over the Child Prince as he slept. The pale mare could not say what sort of subconscious urge had caused her to take up this role as guardian, but she was sure that part of her reasoning was due to the newest plainswalker that had joined the World's Edge. She could not trust the mammoth figure, not around desert women, not around the herd youth, and most definitely not around the Child Prince. So she left her sleep to the day and guarded the slim colt in the night. As she followed the child about - it was a sort of self-selected protocol for the winged lass to anonymously accompany the prince until a parent or healer discovered him - Orithia noted the birdsong and what seemed to be the gradual lightening of Frostfall. With a sigh, the ivory lass sent a thankful prayer to whatever gods may have been listening; she had never been one for the cold. While the patterned child bit - or was it an attempt at suckling? - at a glass figurine, Orithia let her head lower and her eyelids droop. It would be another lie to say that she had gotten any sleep within the past two days and as loath as she was to admit it, the mare was becoming slightly delirious from exhaustion. Glancing back at herself, the blushed warrior noted the wilted flowers, the matted lengths of hair, the dinginess of her coat, and pushed out another sigh. If this was motherhood, the maiden would gladly opt out. A voice broke the silence, then, decidedly female and decidedly kind. Turning her attention back toward her charge, Orithia's pastel gaze rested upon a relatively familiar figure awash in varying shades of grey. The stranger had been present at herd meetings and her scent was clearly that of the Edge, though Orithia had yet to learn the woman's name. Cocking her head to the side, the Pegasus watched the nameless woman talk to her Child Prince, her demeanor easily recognized as nonthreatening. With a small curl of her lips and a tired nod, the blushed dove relinquished her responsibility from her unknowing charge and turned to leave. Yet fate seemed to have been hell-bent on keeping her from sleep and hygiene. Tembovu emerged from the trees and mist, his bulging physique as massive and imposing as ever, yet the light that danced in his cerulean eyes was something that Orithia had yet to see. Beneath her gaze, the Elephant King doted on his child, the warmth and love that so clearly expressed themselves on his primitive features not lost on the mare. With a huff, she stepped clear of her hiding spot, well aware of her bedraggled state but holding her chin high. "The Prince slept well enough through the night, though with all of his dream-twitching, I would assume he's hungry." @Tembovu @Hawezi @Dacianna If you guys have any issue with how this panned out (ori being a stalker and all that) let me know and I'll change the post<333 I just couldn't think of any other premise XD RE: gracious blip - Hawezi - 05-07-2016
@Dacianna RE: gracious blip - Dacianna - 05-15-2016
RE: gracious blip - Tembovu - 05-24-2016 the elephant king
A small, lopsided smile crossed the father’s muzzle as his son’s maw brushed against his own. A short inhale— breathing in the scent of foal and his son, so miraculously alive— before his attention shifted to the gold-draped roan, amusement dancing through his plains-marked face as she addressed this as a ’Prince’ for fighting the dragon. Approval flashed in his dark blue eyes as his son introduced himself, though he can see him waver towards the woman despite remaining alongside the Elephant. Before the King can urge his son forward, another materialized from the mists. Surprise flings his head up— how had he missed another when so close to his son? He supposed his attention had wholly been absorbed by inspecting his son for injuries… Brows raise at the haggard appearance of Orithia. Gaze finds her wilted flowers, matted mane, and lines of exhaustion on her usually proud frame. His great head cocked slightly, ears swinging forward to hear report of his son’s sleeping. A mild concern and confusion drew a crease in his brow, “Though you did not sleep well, njiwa?” His name for the desert’s dove slipped easily from his lips, eyes watching the warrior’s worn face. Slowly, his head swung to Dacianna as the lovely roan asked after Orithia’s report. Indeed, the King had seen flashes of blushed cream hovering around his child whenever he was near. And though most might find such watchful devotion unnerving, the Elephant found a peace of mind in knowing that his son would be protected. Finding a dead child altered perceptions and priorities. So he merely waiting for the dove to answer the question, introductions slipping his mind, as he dropped his head once again to nudge Hawezi towards the scholar, “You may say go to her, Wezi,” he rumbled quietly. tembovu @Orithia AHH I'm so sorry for the wait <3 RE: gracious blip - Orithia - 06-02-2016
She was something out of dream; Beautiful as cherry blossoms, strong as iron, sharp as folded steel. There was no gown of scarlet gracing her features, but the rusted stain of dried blood and the cooling carrion scent of her victories would cause her soul to blush with truth. The woman was a warrior and a maker of widows, all sharp edges and luscious curves coupled with the promise of sleep eternal. Within her a monster lived, ancient as the earth and immortal as the skies, and with each breath the lines between the mare and that beast blurred evermore, giving life to the notion that she was becoming less of herself. There was fear there, too; yet another creature living inside of her, wriggling out a home at the base of the lass' skull and placing horrors heavy as stones upon her heart. In the night, in the twilight moments that existed between the planes of sleeping and waking, it whispered truths too massive to bear. "Maybe," it cooed into her dreams, "Maybe it is not that you are becoming less of yourself and more of a monster." She would feel it's grin as it brought her nightmares to life with a voice like a thousand serpents, "Maybe it is that you truly are a monster and are finally succumbing to your calling." So the birth of the Boy Prince had been a blessing, an excuse to refuse sleep in the name of something purposeful. And toward the child she had felt gratitude. Yet as the nights stretched on, multiplied and stacked upon one another in blurred stream, Orithia's gratitude had transformed into something different. Something more. Pastel eyes, hooded and heavy from exhaustion, softened as they rested upon the lanky Princeling - as she continued to deny herself and her heart. To watch the child grow and develop day after day, viewing the world through eyes glowing with the wonder of curiosity; so like his father, so like his mother, so like the joyous infant she had once been. It was nearly blasphemy, wasn't it? To adore the son of another as if he was her own? To feel the stirrings of happiness in her belly each time the boy discovered something new? To refuse sleep, food, hygiene, anything and everything, if only to witness the beauty that he bled into the world with every beat of that golden heart? To love this child with a devotion borne upon the tides of a motherhood that was not hers to have. A step was taken toward the boy, the babe she yearned to touch, to hold and comfort and let bloom beneath the sunshine of her smile, but the reverie was broken by the voice of another. Blinking rapidly, the mare jerked her head toward the roaned form of Dacianna, the echoes of her question taking a moment to pierce the thick veil of inattention. A tiny, hesitant smile sprung to Orithia's lips at the kindly priestesses' query, "Yes, every moment I can spare I guard him," voice even, the pale mare found her eyes wandering back toward the Child Prince, words tinged with the slightest emotion as she continued, "I have seen what this land does to it's youth and I want him to have a chance it his innocence. I want to let him experience the world through eyes filled with wonder, not pain." Never Pain. The pastel lass would have said more, would have asked the stormcloud mare if she could teach her some stories to tell their young heir, but the comforting baritone of Tembovu drew her away. Invisible brows raised, Orithia noted the crease of concern and the faintest echo of worry gracing the behemoth's features. Licking her lips and rolling her shoulders in a poor semblance of a shrug, the blushed dove gave her reply in the form of a noncommittal mumble and a pointed lack of eye contact. She knew that for better or for worse, the towering King of World's Edge would notice the way her eyelids drooped and how her steps dragged, but for her Elephant, her sovereign, her dearest friend in all the world, she refused to acknowledge it. She refused to be yet another item on his list of things to worry about. Turning to attention back toward the tiny ball of laughter and light that had given the battered, ugly heart within her chest meaning, the ivory lass gave a grin. "Hi, Wezi. You can call me Ori." @Tembovu @Hawezi @Dacianna |