the Rift


[OPEN] So we'll live and pray and sing [Spark]

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
The Songbird had always been a dreamer.
 
The seasons and cycles of her heart twirled and curled with the shape of faithful ambitions, hopes, and desires – dipped in virtue, disclosed in valor, honorable and forthright, clinging to the ramparts of her persistence, of her fortitude, of her might. In between her wishes, she’d dug her hooves into primrose pathways and thorned trails, seen the light at the end of tunnels, breathed in mutiny, then rhapsody, a study in convictions and cataclysms, bearing down the hymns of war, the strife of grief, the overwhelming, boundless anarchy of loss after loss, of misery after misery. Her eyes had seen the sun, had glimpsed the stars, had chased the dawn for as long as she could remember, and its setting sonnets had ignited her bones, had lifted her soul, had covered her essence in love and disaster; sometimes she’d been utterly, ridiculously foolish, sometimes she’d dared to be more than anything else in the world, and sometimes she sacrificed everything to restore the darkness into grandeur, into opulence, into confidence. Sometimes she’d thrown herself too far, glanced over cliffs and waited there too long, spun her entity into a thousand different directions until she wasn’t sure who she was or what she’d become. Sometimes she’d loved and cherished and no one thought to do so in return, and other moments she’d finally learned what it was like to be loved (and it’d been the most beautiful, profound thing). But now, now there was only the Veins in front of her, perseverance lodged in her chest, direction, motivation, and tenacity building its beautiful crescendo through each and every melody thrumming within her throat.
 
She’d missed opportunities like this before – thought herself no one, nothing, not worth a snippet of the Gods’ lives – and there’d been other instances sprinkled with her yearning, when the chieftain of the Sun had glanced down upon her and granted her wishes. But this was a different segment, a press to their own deity, a spark, a kindling, fostered by the fairy amidst the winter waterfalls. The nymph wanted to do more, be more, understand, comprehend, the chaos they were struggling to fight – because she’d raised her voice, because she’d strung her vicious, dangerous songs into the battle, watched as others did the same, as the monster never stopped, never ceased. She believed, perhaps, that the God of Time could help, could point her in the right direction (his power coursed through her veins, and it’d always been wonderful, always been a guiding hand, a striving act of gall and forbearance in its own right, an honor to behold).
 
So when Lena and Imogen stood before his sunken shrine, placing a few yellow flowers she’d found along the way, the femme recalled the earthen, elemental tones of the fae, of how she’d know when to use something – and hoped this was the moment. She’d brought the broken piece of the sentinels too, circular, rounded, pondering if this too could be useful, laid it amidst the grass – then kneeled in fervent prayer, lowering her head so her horn graced the edges of stone and rubble, so as she whispered for guidance, he might hear her devotion, her invocation, her striving to be something better than a little, lost bird. “God of Spark, how may I better serve this land?” How could they conquer their newest foe? How could they rise again, better than before, stronger than before, a united force against complete, utter darkness? She was convinced it was possible, for they’d done it before (amidst disease, violence, torment, and terror).

[Attempting to turn in Lena's earned VOTG chat and possibly get her custom item with two enchantments, from this thread.

The broken piece of the sentinel was found here, via Reli's permission. I intended for it to become a collapsible shield (forming into a collar on Imogen, can collapse or spring back out by song), and possibly electrified by the Spark God. I'd talked to Smitty about this previously, but if it can't be done, I'm sure I can find another way.

Thank you! :D]

her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL

@Mythical Request

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#2
God of the Spark

"Lena."

Even a man such as the Time God, weary from his struggles against the ebb of time, and the actions of devious Kaos, couldn’t maintain a scowl in the presence of his faithful Mender. Each time he had seen her, the mare had been the company of friends, who cherished her, and whom she cherished in return, and she had, in all those moments, stood in his herd land, or with his people. Though the Spark could not truly relate to the feelings which the other mortals held for the Songbird, he did know that such individuals were rare.

This was the first time that he would meet with her in person, however, and also the only time she had beheld his magnificence in a means that was composed, rather than aggravated, or flatly angry.

One bolt of white hot light strikes the stone first, the mare’s yellow flowers vanishing with it. Arriving almost immediately thereafter, hitting the earth four or five yards behind the bay mare, is a shower of lightning that strikes with growing speed at the same location in succession, until the reverberation of the electrical energies hum, and create an illusion of a song in the air. As the song becomes simply a flare of light, the rhythm lost to the speed and quantity of the bolts descending, that blinding wall of energy dissipates, to reveal the God himself.

Slowly descending to all fours from his landing in this realm, Lena’s yellow flowers are tucked behind his ear (he plans on simply eating them later, but, they can be so sensitive, these mortals), and his gaze, though kind, reveals the stress of the endeavors that he and his siblings are undertaking to protect their people.

"You serve well them as you are," he tells her, after looking at the bronze piece she has brought with her for a while, assessing what would best suit his Mender, "but, still, can’t hurt to be better protected."

With a glance from the Divine, the metal leaps upwards, sparkling with electrical current as it floats towards Lena, and hovers before her, waiting for her to take it.

"A shield could be nice…" he seems to ponder out loud, his tired eyes growing distant, already seeing the fantastic object hidden within; the electricity humming about the piece of metal suddenly intensifies, until, at last, the crackling lights settle, revealing a well formed shield. Narrowing his eyes at it, the sparks still glimmering across its surface seem to become one with it, where they lay dormant, waiting to crackle to life when the shield is used. Lastly, looking her over, and deciding that his Mender would look foolish constantly toting about such a large piece of bronze, he compresses it into a much smaller size. "Sing to it, and it will become the size it was."

He then nods, as if he has just fulfilled everything she could ever want with this simple gift.




Lena has been granted her magically enchanted shield! Please post to character record's updates to have at added to her records.


Image Credits | FOXX

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
#3
For a stature of time, of moments, Lena expected nothing. Her voice would be a ghost on the wind, eventually drawing to a granule, to overwhelming silence, forged into naught, into diluted poignancy, into showing her she wasn’t worth anyone’s time. But she still kneeled there, pressed against the earth, against the shrine, waiting for the inevitable strike of the hour; a telltale sign she was worthless again, or the ringing irritation of the Spark God himself.
 
What she got, in actuality, was neither.
 
Her head whipped up quickly, swift, torn between the blades of hot, molten light, eyes widened, gazing in the thick of reverence, swallowing, not fearful, but apprehensive, pondering over the lengths she’d gone, the words she’d maintained, the sway of her name over the field of apparitions and divinity. Beams of lightning shattered against the rocks, the stones, the marble, the wares, a snapping chord of electricity and song echoing past the junctures until she pulsed with the radiant chords of bliss; shocked, forced to turn behind her to witness the splendor, the grandeur, the opulence of the omniscient.
 
She thought about cowering in his wake – she’d never been this close to the God of her lands, no matter how many times she’d managed to watch him descend from afar, rupture them with his disdain – but there was no scowl etched on his features, no ire or vexation rippling from his hide, and all she managed to do was bow her head in his presence, so uncertain, so perplexed. She’d asked and been received; the bestowal, the grace, seemed unearthly, seemed mythical, and she was transported, muted, caged by his stature.
 
But when her gaze finally swept back to him, she noted her little yellow flowers tucked behind his ear, and didn’t know where to start, what to say, how to begin, smiling though the mist and whirl of her sentiments, wondering if she was supposed to laugh or cry or grovel, cherishing the moment anyway, to see a God speckled in petals and blossoms. Even thereafter, her honeyed eyes might’ve conveyed a rampant disbelief as he stated how she served them as well as she could (and already she wanted to dispute it, to claim she could always be more; all that determination, all that stalwart energy, buzzing and flowing and humming throughout her veins). However, before she could grant him her voice, his stare centered on her little piece of the Sentinels, and she watched the metal shoot, rocket, ricochet upwards (she gasped, somewhere in between, mystified once more, spellbound, bewildered, touched by the allure), witnessing the copper filament transform into a shield, and she could already see it now, along the flaming plains of battle, courted in front of her and a fallen comrade, sparking and ignited, incensed by the blood, by the fervor, by her desire to keep them all safe. It was utter perfection, and she didn’t deserve it. “Thank you,” she finally managed to herald, a hallelujah, a gesture of fulfillment and benediction, expressed by her heart, by her essence, by her pure, unguarded soul, reaching forward, bestowing a harmonic sung beneath her breath. It spun to life, compressing and uncompressing, forming into a smaller, singular collar (that Imogen gladly volunteered to wear; chirping with excitement), and the Mender suddenly wanted to burst, wanted to cry, wanted to do something other than plead her gratitude. “I’ll do my best to keep everyone guarded.” She vowed, a nod of her head, a kindle of her spirit, rich and invoked, steady and valorous, tipping her crown to bear witness to him again, a wild pondering formed across her lips. “Do you think it will have any effect on Kaos?” Or was it just another silly, capricious dream, to whittle away the seams of a betrayer, to ensure her brethren were protected?

[Thank you admin! <3]

her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL

@Mythical Request

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#4
God of the Spark

Always pleased with the reverence of his followers, but usually less amused with their delight in the gifts he imparts them with (so selfish, those mortals), the God is actually quite glad that Lena likes what he has made for her. Of all those who had come here to the shrine, begging a word with him, very few had ever put as much of their life in servitude to his name before he gave them things. It was refreshing to have someone who knew a thing or two about respect and loyalty summon him, for once, and he was happy to grant her a small favor in return for all she had done for the often foolish unicorns he had let live on his mountain.

Smiling at the Mender as she gives her gratitude, and her small fox friend cheerfully quips her excitement as the shield becomes hers to protect, the God feels the good mood that had begun to unexpectedly well in him suddenly fall away at the mention of that one. In all the ways he had seem less haggard, he suddenly was, the evidence of their search for a means to the end of Kaos clearly read. What good could a shield possibly do against him? The Spark almost doesn’t manage to not humorously scoff at that thought.

"It will protect you, and your friends," he decides to answer, sensing that in the healer’s heart there was a deep-set fear of the unknown future, and what perils it held, that would seek to strike at those she loved, and take them from her, "and a certain chestnut man, I’m sure, the same that you always have."

Wondering if she had anything else to ask or say, the God otherwise knows he must get back to the time stream, soon, no matter how much he’d rather just go on vacation alongside the lake, instead. Alas…

"Do you have further need of me, Time Mender?" he asks, "if not, I’ll be going back to deal with you-know-who now."



Image Credits | FOXX

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
#5
Her heart was entangled, but raptured and reverent all the same – torn between wanting to ask so many more things, and knowing this meeting was to be brief – he’d already given and granted her enough. But she listened all the same, half-hoping that a blinding light, that a shooting bolt of electricity would be enough to send evil and damnation back into its spectral roots. When the God evaded the notion entirely, her eyes lowered briefly, understanding the foolishness of her inquiry had given naught but trepidation, and they didn’t know, understand, or comprehend just how to fell one more deity yet.
 
So she’d protect them as she’d done a million times before, valorous and commanding, a port in the storm, a soft, dulcet song on the edges of the battlefield – and that was all she could do.
 
For now.
 
The Songbird had to give credit to the God before her, however, because he seemed to apprehend and grasp exactly what button to press, mentioning her friends, her loved ones, the chestnut man, and she could feel her cheeks flame, turn a bright rosy pink, a soft, subtle laugh float through her lips. “I will,” she answered in finality, a swift, course nod, forgoing the elements poised to strike against them, driving, surging, the strength and diligence of a Mender from the mountains, cool, calm, and collected.
 
Then, it came to a close, drawn over the depths of the short, curt hour – he had places to go, things to do, motions to sketch, waves of yesteryear to fold over, notions of the future to preside over. She’d already taken enough of his time (had deserved none of it), and the Mender obliged the impression with one more luminescent, vigilant, and candid smile, conviction and courage tucked between the curls and coils of her mouth. “You’ve granted me more than enough,” bobbing her head towards the shield, the enchantments, the promises of safeguarding poised from the depths of her diligent heart, and her eyes swung back to his, devoted and admiring. “Thank you once again, for everything. Good luck!” Then, she twisted back into the horizon, Imogen’s chest puffing with her new collar draped across her neck, and a beautiful, compassionate, fresh hope blooming from her heart. 

[Thank you again admin! <3]

her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
LENA
Credit URL

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#6
God of the Spark

It hurt her, the God knew, to again be told that the world she lived in wasn’t all songs and rainbows. He wondered who it was that had started that stupid lie to begin with, having never found him in the timestream (a good thing for the fibber, because the Time God would have undone him in an instant), as he watches her eyes fall away. He understands also that, while she wants a world that isn’t real, she also just wants to do her best in this one.

Mortals. They spent so much time striving to do things that they often forgot to look around them. Had they managed to decipher the runes on the Obelisk yet, like he’d asked them to? Thinks the God, nearly heaving a sigh, but instead remains silent, again reminding himself: Mortals. He eases his nerves with promise of the tasty flower behind his ear, and the fact that this meeting seems to be winding down, however… pleasant it has been.

They needed him. His vacation would have to wait.

With a grin the Mender is on her way, and the God nods his farewell in time to her thanks and offering of luck. Had anyone but her offered him that, yet? Not that it would make much difference, being imaginary and all, but the thought was nice…

With the song and lightning he’d arrived in playing in reverse sans the bright blast, the God of Time and Lightning begins to fade away in glimmering sparks and arcing ruptures.

"Bye bye now," he says while chewing, the yellow flower already mysteriously absent from where it had been only moments before.

Image Credits | FOXX


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