the Rift


[OPEN] this music crept by me upon the waters

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#1
L E N A
The stars have all aligned
A brighter day is coming my way


For once, the Songbird had nothing to fret or fear, nothing barbing, sharp and caustic, hovering over her soul, dark and maligned, bestial and strange, barbaric and nefarious. Her heart was light, buoyant, ebullient, coasting along stars and streaming across the sky, airy and ethereal, tangible and strong. The femme’s mind could easily wax poetical on her latest ventures, instead of diving in amongst the melancholy runes and the relentless upheavals of her past – so when the morning came, rising amidst the clouds, warm and pleasant (labyrinths where she didn’t get lost, galaxies behind her eyes, friends in need but capable, strong, enduring lifelines, buds unfurling, blossoms sailing towards Elysium), she gave into its bliss and stretched from the confines of her cave. A pleasant tune curled past her lips, singsong ambitions and aspirations coiling into rose petals and dulcet whims, extending a smile when the chords reached past the canopies and caverns, winding along a portion of the breeze and willing its way beyond sunshine and daffodils. From then on, the tunes didn’t cease, even when Imogen awakened and chirped, earning a wink from her bonded, or when her mouth was full of herbs – the hums still managed to mingle along the edges of her soul and pull into the vast corridors.
 
There was no singular reason for her musings; they were combined with content, tender sentiments, and she obliged them with effervescent ease, twirling back and forth on dawn determination as they mulled back and forth, back and forth, from the greenhouse and the healers’ ward, grabbing leaves from their dried portions, rooted back within shadows or sunlight, then placing them directly into the glassy sanction. The duo would pause occasionally, glancing over where a particular plant had been placed, pondering if it was a suitable area for the tiny shrub or the delicate flower, then tenderly maneuvered them to another location. Sometimes, in between their movement from frame to frame, they would dance, wild and silly, fairy-esque, pretending they had a crown of lilies enshrouded on their head and they couldn’t cease waltzing because of the enchanting, spellbinding music. Lena would extend her hooves in an lengthy, beautiful lift, and Imogen would copy, and they’d laugh before the next set of herbs was tucked into their maws, committing the same actions over and over again – a harmonic rapture and reverie stoked in finery, purpose, and absolute silliness. Without an audience, they were sublime tapestries and canvas of fey ambience, irrepressible, undaunted, playing chirps and arias as if born to the roles, suitable to spring about in fields of clover, thistle, and lilac. Her songs filled the sanctuary, echoing along the chambers, overflowing the ruins of shadow and Stygian holes, reverberating in wondrous, mellifluous vestiges – a refrain of the tranquil and serene.

[BASIN CHOIR SQUAD. <3]


@Leif

Aisling the Fae Posts: 112
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath Laine
#2
Aisling

O you dreamers proud and pure
you have gleaned the sweet of life
golden truth that shall endure
over pain and doubt and strife

It was done now, and yet so much was just beginning. No more keeping to the safety of the Weaver’s cave with only Johnny and their daughter for company—as tender and precious as that time had been. Aisling was a proper member of the Basin now, declared and even promoted at her very first meeting and he'd been welcomed kindly if not by all than at least by some. She was determined to win them all over eventually, as friends if she could but at the very least she’d have no one saying she was a detriment to the herd. Pushed on by the apparent fact that until very recently her race had not been welcomed into the fold, Aisling would pull her weight and twice that if she needed to. The first step, she knew (and it was no hardship), was to become more acquainted with the denizens of the mountain valley and so for the first time Aisling set out to explore her new home in ernest. “Home, again… isn’t that a lovely thought…” She murmured only to herself and the golden summer air as a contented smile slipped across her face.

The white lass descended from the cave on a stream of good spirits, her light steps more a dance across the sunny mountainside. Her long mane was worn unbound, the tips of it fluttering around her knees; her ribbons since delegated to sling the black flute across her shoulder. More often than not the flute would play as she walked, but now it lay silent, the little mare instead leaving her ears open to the music of the land around her. The whispers of wind that touched the trees, the birds that sang there, the scuttles of the creatures than lived below; all became part of the natural melody that Aisling was trying to learn, and she let the land introduce itself as she explored.

When she caught the sound of two voices, it seemed to Aisling that they were right at home, fitting so naturally in to the setting that they could not be separated from it. As much as the little songstress might have liked to join in, somehow she felt too removed, too new somehow and surely her voice wouldn't fit quite like theirs did. No, she was contend to listen and to follow in the direction they led her. When Aisling spotted the bay mare and the kitsune she positively beamed. The other mare's name was yet unknown, but Aisling well remembered the smile and the kind word  from her at the meeting. The equine, led by her sunny disposition, gave a soft call in her accented lilt and approached the dancing pair. "Hello there! I couldn't help but follow the song. You've got yourself quite a lovely voice." She nodded, a show of deference to the more veteran herd member--the last thing she wanted to do was push her way in where she was unwanted. 

Texture by monxcheri @ DA


Crashing because Aisling said I had too: "I HEAR MUSIC! I MUST GO TO MY PEOPLE!!!"
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::

Leif Posts: 15
Outcast
Stallion :: Other :: 15 Hands :: 4 Years
Sparrow
#3
Leif
It seemed that he was not the only one drawn by the melodious harps and song-bird tapestries woven within the morning air, for when he arrived beneath the burning light of the dawn, he was not alone. Leif had been drawn by the sound, pulled helplessly, but not unwanted, by the soothing melodies, the pleasant songs and heartfelt emotions sung with the arrival of the morning light from talented and earthly lips. The happy notes and tones reached the Elk's fuzzy oval ears, urging him onward towards the cave of the Time Mender, if his memory of Rexanna's tour served him correctly.

The cream and golden doe had stated that the Time Mender, Lena, was a singer, like himself, but unknowingly had he ventured towards the territory of the Aurora Basin's healer during his morning bout of exploration. The white stag had found himself a cave near the hot springs, somewhat secluded and on his own, and even though he had claimed a cave to himself, it was difficult to think of the large hole within the cliff-face as a 'home'. He was an Elk, meant to roam and wander within forests and within a herd.. But perhaps it was something that would take some getting used to, like greetings and other not-horses.

Soulful blue-green eyes rested upon the two does, one with a sparkling ivory hide and long tresses of alabaster hairs, and the other, Lena, an earthly brown with a womanly frame and a twisted horn upon her brow. Lena was another not-horse, but the ivory woman seemed like a true equine, a normal horse, and Leif was momentarily surprised because she was the first normal horse he had encountered since... Since, well, forever.

Slowing his pace, cloven hooves dug nervously within the ground, the bull Elk's massive bulk shifting and shuffling, wondering if he would be welcome. Everyone had been so surprised of his existence, that he, an Elk, could talk their tongue and share their mannerisms, and he wondered if these two does would be similar in that regard.

The pale lady complimented the dark one, and Leif had to agree, so that is what he did. "I agree," he said politely, always eloquent, always minding his manners, just as his mother had told him, for he was a noble Elk and had to remember to act like it, "It is a lovely melody to be greeted with first thing in the morning." He paused, long enough to let his arrival go noticed by the two females, blue-green eyes dancing between the two ladies and the companion somewhat nervously before going on, letting his gaze linger on Lena... Or who he hoped was Lena. "I apologize for the intrusion and my blatant ignorance, but... Are you Doe-Lena? Doe-Rexanna informed me that the Time Mender Lena was an exquisite vocalist when I inquired as to the Basin's singers."

Somewhat embarrassed, the white stag shook his mighty head and nodded, bowing his eight-tined crown to the two ladies. "Apologies for my rudeness, fair Does. I am Leif."

the white stag
Image Credit


@Lena @Aisling
"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling; what if you fly?"

*Please tag Leif in all replies!*

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#4
L E N A
The stars have all aligned
A brighter day is coming my way


Unbound, unfettered, unchained, they followed the same ritual – beating, fleeting, triumph at the sound of trills and laughter. They were a resounding crescendo of minstrel delight, flowing, gilded, dulcet threads one after the other, a reverberating highlight of stars and sunshine, of flickering pixie dust and trembling fairy wings. Sometimes it was a leisurely stroll, sailing over kingdoms and moonbeams, echoing a chord of merriment when the melody called for chirps and giggles; other moments it was a riotous blend of powerful minuets and movements, striking against the choral ring until they were floating, pervading masses, all sienna and ivory, blending into the backdrop. Their canvas was a part of the bliss, a part of the joy, a part of the Basin’s warm depths – like the hot springs, overflowing in tenderness and generosity, like the never-freezing lake, always temperate no matter the season. The Songbird would’ve given anything, her heart, her soul, her body, her essence, for the entire world to feel, to embrace, the jubilee, the exuberance, and the serenity she claimed now, dancing across a thousand dawns, waltzing along a thousand sunsets, drinking in the tranquility, the effervescence, the regal nature of just another day in Elysium –
 
An echo of a voice called to her, over the music, over the melodies, over the harmonies and hums hastened from her throat, and she ceased motions immediately, herbs in her mouth, Imogen at her feet, staring across the void upon a pale figure. It took a moment for her sentiments to no longer burst with song, but recognition, because while she didn’t know the other femme, her existence had been highlighted at the recent herd meeting; praise, consecration, and anointment given to her in the form of a title: Thief. Feeling utterly sheepish, she lowered the gathered plants poking from her maw to the ground, where Imogen sniffed and gathered them herself (running towards the greenhouse, intent on their pattern as Lena sorted out familiarities), extending her greetings and acknowledgements as another bridge of tunes and ditties. “Thank you. I’m sorry if it distracted you from your work.” Weren’t Thieves busy, consumed by information, by cloaks and daggers, by shadows and mercenary rites? Her thoughts flicked back to the crimson brigand she once knew, the one with blue eyes and a handsome veneer, smiling despite the quiver of pain snagging along her mind. “Aisling, wasn’t it?” The nymph tilted her head, curious and inquisitive, her sentiments clouding over with zealous questions and ardent discourse (You may join me, if you’d like or Do you sing too?), but another approached.
 
Unfortunately, no recognition was regarded in this instance; she would’ve remembered this face, for there was nothing equine about him. He was like the mystical elk of their desolate north, antlered and stoic, radiant and powerful; she’d always believed them to be the spirits of the forest, protective, guardians of the copses and woods, of the trees and all their restless entities, sometimes stolen by the wolf, but mighty enough to wage war within the pines and fir. However, those she’d always seen had been brown, painted to hide amidst their surroundings, to not become the hunted – and he was stark white, like the snow, like the ice, like he belonged in their mystical, mountain land. She’d just never expected one of them to stay, remain with their forms instead of basking in the rest of the wilderness. Nevertheless, she found she enjoyed his company; he was polite, courteous, charming and charismatic (being called a doe was something new – but it made sense in context, as a fellow beast tried to immerse himself within a species existing with horns and ribbons and lace intertwined along their crowns). “Thank you,” she uttered again, eyes wandering from Aisling to Leif, pondering if she’d been too much like a siren instead of a bird, heralding others from their duties – but from the sound of it, Leif had been searching for her anyway. “I am,” she proffered in slight surprise, in a swing of tunes and vocals, in an arch to her brow. “Do you sing?” She followed thereafter, to both of them, no longer an after-thought but an obligation, longing to hear the spread of sonnets and laurels throughout the opulent sky. 


@Aisling @Leif

Aisling the Fae Posts: 112
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath Laine
#5
Aisling

O you dreamers proud and pure
you have gleaned the sweet of life
golden truth that shall endure
over pain and doubt and strife

Aisling was unaware of what dissident connotations her title would evoke, and remained blind the the contradiction she seemed to display. To her thinking she was more a trickster, an illusionist than worked more in light than in shadow; more mischievous than sinister. She was unsuited to be a warrior, both by her stature and a distaste for violence; she knew some of healing, but had never quite developed her mother's careful touch; she had no magic of might with which to build or create. She could hide, she could listen, she could find, and all for the herd's benefit and not her own, which left her conscience feather-light. 

The faerie mare was surprised to be met with an apology but at once smiled and gave a gentle shake of the head to dismiss the Songbird's fears. "Y've not distracted but delighted! I am taking the day to make myself better acquainted with the area." It was true, and spoken graciously, if anyone had been disturbed from their work, Aisling thought it must have been Lena. She had her own turn of sheepishness but it melted quickly to a warm, pleasurable ease as the mare remembered her name. In a new place with new people any marks of recognition were as warm a welcome as the pony could have wished for. "Aye, that it is!" Her curious gaze moved to the patches of herbs (some she thought she recognized as similar to ones her dam had worked with) and in the direction where the kitsune had dashed off with a gathered stash. Questions on healing in these parts, on songs, on the earthy mare, on a million other things vied for position as the first to fall from her lips but a second voice pulled at her attention. 

Stormcloud-eyes went wide and brimmed with childish delight at the sight of the white stag. Here was a figure of legend, a creature of the old tales, stepping quietly and calmly into the mundane reality of an everyday conversation with none of the weight of gravitas that Aisling would have thought the occasion warranted. This was not to say that the hart was not impressive--twice as big as any deer Aisling had ever seen and in a coat the stood out starkly against the surroundings. She had seen a great many astonishing and magical things since coming to Helovia, and they had taught her a little wisdom. Enough to know that not all her tales were true (and if they were, the magic in them might not be as simple or as idyllic as she had dreamed as a child) but that didn't stop Aisling from taking delight in them. If the stag was only a new friend to be met, that was delight enough in itself. “Pleased I am to meet you, Leif. I am Aisling” Her gazed flicked back to Lena and smiled, bright as sunlight, at the Time Mender's question and a peal of laughter rang out.  Did she sing? Enthusiasm was evident in the shake of her head that sent her hanging mane dancing merrily-not a denial but astonishment at the whims of serendipity. "That's like asking the Sun if it rises! I can play as well..." She twitched her left shoulder, letting the flute slide forward. Even with its dark wood, it sparkled with the Sun God's own magic. As she willed it, the flute gave a melodic little trill to demonstrate. 

Texture by monxcheri @ DA

@Leif @Lena
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::


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