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 |
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Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire
Heather |
12-01-2012, 02:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-01-2012, 03:26 PM by Lena.)
There is love in your body but you can't hold it in,
It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin,
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks,
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts
She’d knelt in the realm of uselessness for too long, wandered the corridors of the listless, the tranquil, the serene, without a provision to offer but the keen smile of the spirited, the buoyant, mellifluous grace of a nymph. She’d clamored amongst the din of villainy and discord when their world was turned asunder, roaming the acerbic stranglehold amongst the toiling war drums, had claimed to sin for the righteousness of her harem, had felt it twist into folly when they were banished from the edge. She’d battled against the beast of her heritage and had been immersed in the quandaries of her bloodline, fought against the noose of wreckage, decay and cruelty, illuminated the knot of recoil and rancor embedded into her heart, loosened its fine threads from her elegant nape. For the entirety of her life, she’d begged for salvation, she’d yearned for hope, she’d aspired for value, chasing cobwebs and satin lace, entangling her livelihood with so many others, embroidered into the whims and fanciful graces of gods and goddesses, burned and longed in the sieges of her mind and body. To be beneficial – when was the last time she considered herself worthy? How long had she devoted her body to the pursuits of her cadre, but never rendered value? The nymph and sylph had garnered recruitment to see it turned astray when they too disappeared, the fae and fairy had cherished and grinned, bestowed and offered, but when everything culminated, naught churned from her lips, naught fostered by her limbs, naught coiled from the interludes of her objectives. She, in some way, had become ineffective. But here, in the winds and whispers of Birdsong, she’d finally managed to muster the courage to ask, to request, the permission to assuage.
As the spring breeze wafted along her body, she elongated her movements, brought the soft, dulcet motions to gentle, wafting waves of elegance, felt the grace enamored by the chords of deities, returned, renewed, revitalized. She too, in some simple way, had managed to muster that persevering glow all over again, lost in the hymns and sonnets of the birds’ trills, the croon of melodic entities, the calming, illustrious fancies of the earth. Light and sun had been brought to them again, revitalizing the wonders of warmth, the creed of beneficence hastening to her chest, streamlined over her veins, along the channels of her mind. She’d come here, in this pedestaled world, with its might, its brawn, its power, to receive the enchantment to heal, to remedy, to mend and relieve the pain of her companions, to no longer need the aid of others to become whole again. Her honeyed gaze drifted over the volcano, felt the heat of its ardent passion sizzle amongst the grounds, daggers traipsing over the bridge, quieting her motions to petal, floret fancies, silent, humble, regarding the glowing palisade with a subdued ease. The shrines, temples of meticulous creation, sanctuaries of beings that cherished or absconded, brought her forth ever further – and when she reached the one that offered radiance, luminescence, the luster of a kindled fire, she halted. Ever the serene, ethereal soul, she bowed, slinking in the dust of ash and ochre, the flicker of vestal rocks, offering acclaim to the being that could reward or disgrace her. A quiet, tracing whisper floated through her lips, passing along her reverent mouth, wishing, hoping, for the salvation of her strength to be valiant again, to provide her with meaning, purpose, and merit. “Honorable Sun God, I wish for your presence.”
[As previously discussed with Tamme, Lena is questing for soothing/healing magic, orchestrated by singing, humming, etc.]
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| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17 hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
The GOD of the SUN
Burn the whole world down
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The sensation of being pulled from heaven by the words of another was not easily described. Something akin to the tugging of a gut as if fear was wrapping around your body, but the tightening was not a terrible feeling. Golden eyes watched from his unseen tower as a beautiful, bay mare made her way up the solid path amidst a dangerous, churning ocean of heat. She was of odd build for her typically bulky spanish bloodlines, but he supposed that only made her more attractive. However, all a pretty mare had to do was open that damn maw to then turn ugly once more.
A mystery, though brief, caught his attention, and he crashed to the ground before her hooves in a pillar of fire. Bright, orange and pale yellow light spiraled down as well, the two elements coming together to make his figure. Liquid more bright and beautiful than gold dripped from his body and hissed to death on the rocks beneath his cloven hooves, and after a few moments, the dancing flames receded into his body. The golden pelt that clothed his divine figure seemed to reflect and refract the light at all points, making the stallion almost difficult to behold.
Mystery solved. The words from her lips dripped with sweet deference and most importantly, she asked for a visit. Something that prickled his sense of greatness was when these mortals came rapping at his door demanding magic as if it was something to be handed out like candy to children. Very rarely did any of them want to earn it, and he found that foolish. The proud stallion tucked his golden wings to his side and regarded the mare with more kindness that his reputation granted. "I am listening," he replied, blinking in wait for her to speak.
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CREDITS
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 |
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Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire
Heather |
There is love in your body but you can't hold it in,
It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin,
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks,
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts
Light curled, a feverish blaze, steamed, ignited before her eyes, and for a moment or two she closed them, the scorching brilliance a blinding temptation. The core of the earth was molten, simmering beneath her hooves, driving the sumptuous decadence of heat, infernal, vigor and vitality coerced from the daunting flames. Only when the inferno no longer emblazoned her lids did she trust herself to open them, posturing herself a witness of a god. Her mouth formulated an audible gasp; she’d never laid her gaze upon a deity before, never had the courage to believe herself worthy of their presence, and the illumination of the sun’s immortality made her ethereal beauty, grace, and elegance obsolete. Gilded flames, elongated horns, magnificent wings, overwhelming and compelling. She struggled, for slender, minute seconds, for words to form in her mouth, for the munitions of her mission. She almost retreated, nearly surrendered to reeling thoughts that she was ultimately inferior, that she’d dreamed this, that a hallucination rendered her incomplete again. Yet, she didn’t move. She didn’t sway; she didn’t withdraw, because if she were anything - it was strong. Her heart, and all its convictions, couldn’t allow her world to be ripped and torn again, bleeding, gasping, shreds and splinters thrown to the ground. Lena, still fae, still nymph, drew a breath from the flames and drifted her honeyed stare to the sovereign’s gaze, lips turning into a vivid, blessed smile. “Thank you.” Forever humbled, eternally simple against the fervor of his might, she bowed again, for his presence, for his appearance, for the ability to have her wish granted. Her words, soft, silken, satin, glided against the conflagration, burning in the combustion, sought the beams of his rays, into the squall of heat and divinity. “I aspire for healing magic, to soothe the members of my herd when they are hurt and ailing. How may I acquire this enchantment?” The grin, despite the heat, never melted from her features, the source of her valiancy in the crooning world of power and brawn.
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| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17 hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
The GOD of the SUN
Burn the whole world down
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Healing magic. Though he knew that light was ultimately a healing power, he was always amazed by individuals who would choose such selfless and powerless abilities. Still, she was a lovely enough creature, so he would not give her the normal hell that he gave everyone else who wanted to heal. Well... not the entire hellish speech. The stallion sighed patiently and shifted his weight onto a hind hip. "Healing magic is far too mundane for a creature such as yourself, but if you are sure..." he trailed, eyeing her carefully.
Some could not be swayed, and considering that she had waited as long as she had to come see him, he knew that she was confident that this ability fit her spirit. As such, he nodded. "All right. The first thing you must do is go out into Helovia and write a song - this may be in words or wordless, but I will need to know what aspects of this world bring you muse. Your muse will be your power." The Sun God explained his process as well, something he rarely introduced to the mortals.
"Once you find your song, sing or hum it to the injured, blind, deaf, or weak. You will find power in your song that will repair some of the damage but to heal entirely. Return to me, and I will use your song and experience to give you the power of the light that will rest on your tones and bring respite to your injured." The God of the Sun cracked an expression that may have been a smile if you looked at it long enough and sideways, but it was undeniably kind.
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CREDITS
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 |
There is love in your body but you can't hold it in,
It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin,
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks,
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts
Ever considerate, compassionate, altruistic, the femme had courted her heart time and time again to soothe the ache of despondency, to cherish the world, shower it with benevolence, but had never felt the assuage truly flow through their livelihoods. They smiled for her, pretended, forcing a farce, charmed for minutes until the next nightmare reeled from their minds, and the passion of their melancholy stole them once more. But Lena, sweet, dear Lena, who could combine strength from the shards of her own morose intimacies and interludes with life, didn’t hold the ability to conjure their wounds to close, remaining open, torn, frayed. This blessing, this enchantment, that the Sun God was willing to bestow upon her entity, was an overwhelming puissance that she never thought she’d contain. A benediction, a conviction, that she’d woven through her sienna body, from the depths of despair to the heights of humanity – through his charity, through his graces, she could ignite the desolation from companions, could incense the forlorn from friends, could repair shattered warriors amongst the heartbeats of war. She listened, grateful, beholden, indebted, ears twisting to ensnare the words he spoke, cherishing them and their proffered gifts, the brilliance of her smile fostered across her mouth. A song; she had to write verses, lyrics, stanzas drawn from the corridors and hallways of her life, the muse that kept her whole, provided the gentle air of her rapture and reveries. What laced her together, what captured her attention the most in this sparkling array of life? The birds’ own gentle music? The repose of spring? The nurturing boughs of leaves and pine? The sky, the sea, the clouds? He’d proclaimed a great realm of discovery, and oh, her grin couldn’t, wouldn’t, refused to vanish, strung by the angelic, Elysium haze, warm eyes rushing to meet his stare, a gaze she could only call kind. Though she would never be as radiant as he, the embarking of her quest, the potential of its clamor, of its promise, and the resonance of its illustrious keen made her ever more resplendent. She delivered her third bow to him, arched her elegant nape until it swung her noble head towards the ground, before rising again, grace and refinement with the beam of her happiness roaming over beneficent features. She couldn’t thank him enough, but tried, in the serenity of her bliss, mellifluous words pouring across her lips. “I am indebted to your grace. Thank you.” The fae paused, catching her breath in the euphoria of flame and ignition. “I will return.” With a twist of her body, she was gone, into the elation of her crusade.
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It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. [Sun God]
