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 |
Lena
by that sin fell the angels
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I will not tell my tale to everything I meet. I will not share the secrets of my heritage, the enigma of my birth, or the harsh degradation of youth. But I will say that the earth grants and gives, then clasps and clutches, takes and sullies. Then, it bestows again; an endless cycle, an eternal bliss of faithfulness and treachery. Here, I shall devote something of my own to you. My passion, my love, my strength, my allegiance. What will you choose to ensnare?
Nomadic, wayfaring, wandering, wavering, from the devil’s pull, the Mephistophelean grasp, she moved without pause. A petal soft praise, silken shuffle of swift, maneuvering feet, she emerged, poised from the thread of lilies and persimmons. Like a Romani, she diverged and diverted many times over, to the furtive, specious gallows of Stygian oils and midnight veils, to the delusion of light and air, honeyed and candied fields. A restless genesis, pervaded with sacrifice and callused, cold stares, and heartfelt interludes ignored, disregarded. Again and again, the sonnet of sorrow and dejection penned the hallowed hollows of her life: but never her words, her phrases, her sentences, her movements. Where chill would permeate a wounded soul, settle into the veins and freeze the fabric of an entity so that it could not bleed and could not feel, she blossomed. A whimsical floret, she grew in the brine of gloom, spreading her flowers in hopes they would read the sun’s wide, warm halo. No one bothered to investigate this strange upheaval of behavior; an abandoned scion, unpolished, fettered and withering, suddenly assertive, sanguine, and unyielding, in spite of the cruelest junctures barbed upon her frame over and over. From wickedness, grew hope. From savagery, grew aspiration. From brutality, grew virtue. Perhaps, some admitted, she simply chose to embrace life, and what little love it had given her.
She flourished now, in the lonesome forest. It sang of desolate, forlorn hearts, with their requiems for companions, shelters from the storms. She could relate, almost sink into the murky layers of their despair, but refused the tug of frail leaves and enticing branches. Instead, she twisted, a fairy in the mist, her motions airy, radiant, blending into the gnarled knots of wood and brush. Her noble head, dished, feminine cheeks, slid by quivering boughs, her lithe, sienna body coveted the seams of shadow and turned them to gilded alms. She was made of her own allure, this paradoxical Lena, and did not relent to the sinister harpsichords of nefarious delight. Rather, she joined the merriment of light bending and blending amongst the glade, became one with the effulgence, rekindled and ignited all over again, this mystical, reticent gypsy. Her movements did not flood with sound, but with morality, integrity, and beneficence. Then her smile, indulgent and generous, surrounded her lips and allowed the warmth to further glide, winsome and genuine. A gift of layers, mysteries and strength, brilliant conviction wrapped in the mischievous, fanciful play of a heartfelt youth - should I be allowed to dream that here, in these thickened groves of fantasy and awe, that I will find serenity?
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She walked to the Deep Forest, because after all there were some very nice trees here and she wanted to visit it and make sure it was ok even though the sun was angry. At least she thought the sun was angry; that was what the plants told her, and it was very hot so it made sense in her mind that that would be the case. She felt only wonder at the idea of the angry sun, because she could never be mad at the sun, since the sun was very pretty and kept her warm and grew her plants. But the sun was angry, and she wanted to make sure the plants were ok, and...
She paused in her wanderings and looked around, suddenly lost. Panic entered her fuzzy brain, terror and confusion playing ring-around-the-rosey like demonic children in her simple cranium. She stared to her left, to her right; where was she? Where had she been going? She could not remember, did not know why she was here and not somewhere safe, by her river in the Foothills where her plants grew and her new friends were. Frightened eyes were raised to the heavens in a frantic plea, creeper vines wringing themselves helplessly against their ashen backdrop. Tail slashed the air, thoughts whirling slowly through a mind of oil. The creak of a branch, the growl of wind; it was enough, and she ran.
She ran and ran with awkward grace, small body galloping against the wind and towards some place she had not initially anticipated, first across meadow and then beneath trees. Deeper into the Threshold she ran, and the shadow of the great pines hid her from the angry glares of the sun, until abruptly she reigned herself into a sudden halt and stared around her. This place looked familiar, smelled familiar. Thoughts penetrated her mind like musky sunbeams in a dark tomb, curiosity and recognition now quelling the earlier panic. With interest she raised her tiara, dark locks obscuring her vision but comfortable smells penetrating frenzied senses. The movement of sienna behind mahogany wood caught her attention; she turned round abruptly, staring with crimson shot eyes at the retreating tail of an earthen unicorn. Attention piqued, suddenly curious. The trees were humming, pleased at this earth horse. But a moment later the tail was gone, and she let out a soft whinny in surprise, and darted off after it.
Now it was a game of cat and mouse, with the dowdy grey mare admiring the beauty of the other, vines curious and seeking, trying not to interrupt with her own graceless presence. She thought that perhaps this was a magic being, a fairy or wood nymph that the forests loved, because it really was beautiful, the nymph. She was transfixed, mystified, following the other with blind admiration and thrilled to be allowed in the presence of one so graceful. Flowers grew on her hide, climbing roses that spoke of her fixation with the brown mare. In her mind, she was as fluid and graceful as her newfound goddess, following as a mirrored follower rather than an awkward stalker.
![[Image: 2m7t3j5.png]](http://i44.tinypic.com/2m7t3j5.png) |
 From what brief acquaintance Aurelius had made with the lands of Helovia, he could only conclude that it was too damn hot. Everything seemed withered and brown, even though it was summer and the lands were supposed to be lush and green, and it was a trend that he did not approve of. From what he had been told, this unbearable torment was due to some sort of god being pissed off. Just typical, and it had to happen coincidentally with his arrival here; bad timing if there ever was one. Shaking his head with a smile on his lips, he sought in to the forests to find some shade.
He quickly found himself heading back where he had come from, towards the Threshold. Had he thought about going somewhere with a more merciful climate? More than once, but he figured this god of the sun would chill out at some point, and he had no desire to travel any further. If he could finally make a home for himself here, that would be good. With his head low, the drawven steed strolled along slowly, nimble on his hooves across the uneven forest floor. He was a hardy creature, sturdy of built and not much to look at, but he had a charming glint in his eye and a gentleman’s personality.
Halting abruptly, he caught the scent of something living on the zephyr. A small smile appeared on his rugged features; females. Now that was something he could understand. Approaching warily, he caught sight of two femmes, very different from one another. The first one he laid eyes on were a unicorn, quite a bit taller than himself, and very beautiful. Her dark russet hide shone beautifully in the sunlight, whenever she passed under a hole in the above foliage; he was struck by her, just about forgetting the other figure present. Mismatched eyes fled to the smaller silhouette, a warm smile spreading on his lips. Something about the lithe fae made him want to protect her; maybe it was the slightly glazed look in her eyes, or the way she, almost childishly, mimicked the movements of the bigger mare. It was… charming.
Clearing his throat, the small steed stepped forward, nodding respectfully to both of them, keeping a respectful distance. "My ladies, what a lucky bastard I am, to encounter two such beauts in a godforsaken setting as the one at present," the dwarf hummed, smooth vocals slipping from his lip as a fresh, mischievous expression was held in his odd eyes. "I am Aurelius, of The World’s Edge. May I learn your callings?" |
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 |
Lena
by that sin fell the angels
|
Eloquent heartstrings, like the taffeta wings of seraphic grandeur, harkened to the brooding earth, a siege of warmth against the glade of tyranny, damnation and debauchery. An act of defiance fluttered through its gaze, one armed with a wide smile and fairy dust, hastening to the elegance, the finery, of bestial delusion: coveting and polishing until the radiance of archaic design resonated along the darkened chambers. Through the flood of unkempt misery, the wandering souls of yesterday’s paradise and today’s solemn melancholies, came the aloft paradigm of bewitching, alluring cordiality; an otherworldly possession. Condemned before, but anointed thereafter. Amongst the laments and dirges, the keens for guidance, support, and love, arrived the tender plucking of dulcet lullabies. A soft croon, a smooth hum, trilling from the lavished, affable presence of a lost soul, given to pestilence but taken into the arms of virtue. Fostered by taint, but removed and ravished into the melodies of morality. Where sin scorched and scarred, goodness prevailed, covered, veiled from the cruel, morose indulgences of a vindictive creation: what could have been, what could still be. Lacquered in the boughs of benevolence, the harmonious, mellifluous conviction of an angelic creature drove away the monstrous contortions, creations, of unholy turbulence. She knew despair, tragedy and anarchy, but chose the soothing conjectures of something never given to her own body. Not bitter, not sullied, too strong to be buried beneath the ancient waves of insurrection and vile, fiendish acts. Now, she was a nymph, settling into the twisted glade, brushing against the feral indignities and remaining all the same, the ardor of life sliding, slipping, into her veins, in her fine, satin motions, in the beguiling spell she wove into the leaves. A touch, and it was varnished into the divine. A caress, and it was enameled into the beatific. To the heavens, she was forgotten, and to the iniquitous, she was naught, and so she bloomed where no one could see, blossomed where no one could touch, and unraveled from the taut bows of atrocious turmoil into something opulent, magnificent.
Yet, she was not alone in this majesty.
The crush of leaves, brush, and lines of soil hastened her attention. At once, she ceased movement. Poised like a deer, each fine curve of her frame stilled, motionless to the sounds of the wavering oaks, the candid songbirds, the husky bellows of a forgotten stranger. Her lithe body allowed one flick of her ear, swiveling towards the resonant cadence of footfalls, hooves striking along the kindred layers. It echoed, closer and closer, until the scent of another entered her narettes. She breathed in deeply, enamored her senses to this other creature. Eyes searched, narrowing for a silent, minute period of time – a flash of silver caught her stare, another mystery laden for the wood. But it was soft, restless, a toiling of youth that she could relate to, and she smiled, this fascinating Lena, unto the other. This feminine aura, this tangible spirit, did not possess the same graceful motions and motives, but was transfixing all the same. Her hide rippled with a magical contentment that Lena herself could not possess, an enchantment that bore no falsehoods, genuine, free, veritable, authentic, real. She followed, this argent femme, and so Lena laughed, shuffled again, gathered her movements into supple finesse, painted and sculpted with her feet, breathed a low whisper for the admirer. "Come, come, little rabbit.” What followed was a grin and a laugh, louder than the lilting tone to her voice, but still, soft and lyrical.
Enamored with her attendant, the unicorn came across another flourishing in the glade. Charming, charismatic, he too bloomed with another form of charity – and it made Lena wonder all the while why she had not wandered here many ages ago, before the crusade of depravity shown its vivid skull in her eyes. Her mahogany eyes glanced at his mismatched pair, and her grin grew ever wider in the realm of this vibrant, intense tranquility. They were all striking, this mottled trio, hardy, strong, not withering to the cataclysmic designs of nefarious devils or the luring sheen of mayhem. Home and shelter, she knew they represented these wondrous things in the brine of revolution. So she answered, kind, elegant, captivating, the nymph child, the once-damned, for she considered herself lucky as well, blessed, charmed in this calm, composed instant. She winked, laughed again. "Shall you always be fortunate, Aurelius. I am Lena.”
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She thinks the nymph's voice is like rain falling on a canopy of oak leaves, and she shakes herself because she might be wet. What indignation she may have been entitled to at being called a rabbit was lost behind the delight of being in the presence of one so lovely. She echoes the other's laughter, her own voice dense and crackling like leaves in a storm. Dark eyes glitter with fiery excitement; she is caught up in the joy of it. She is a fairy floating through the sky, following her queen, and the trees are bending about her and laughing with her and she is their friend, and they make way for them.
But what is this? An intruder upon their wild wandering! The nymph stops, and she does not realize it until collision is imminent; she slides to a halt, perched behind her queen, and gazes fiercely at this tiny intruder. Yet he speaks so sweetly, and calls her pretty; and she is brought down, collapsed under the weight of his smooth voice and the nymph's laughter. He calls himself Aurelius, and she tries very hard to make the name work in her mind, bending the syllables and mouthing the word. She finds herself entranced, and almost missed her nymph's reply; Lena, she says, and she thinks it is lovely. A pause, awkward and ponderous; suddenly she realizes. "Poppy!" bursts into the air, rough and sudden and enthusiastic. Now that she has spoken, the desire to say more comes over her; eagerly, she looks around, and words begin to spill from her charcoal lips. "You come home with me? Is special and beautiful Foothills and everyone is happy and you like it, I promise!"
[ooc || Ugh..... ugh. ]
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Aurelius saw the worship that lived in the eyes of the smaller mare, and he could easily understand where it was coming from. With a soft voice full of cheer, a face that shone only kindness and eyes that were so full of life; it was hard not to be drawn in by her. An odd trio indeed, they must’ve been quite the amusing sight for any by-passers, but life often had a knack for bringing together the most unlikely of destinies, in his experience. Winking back at the larger mare, he returned her smile and greeting. "And you too, Lady Lena." Propping up a back hoof to rest on its tip, he lowered his nape into a more comfortable position. Aurelius always enjoyed pleasant company when he came across it, and in the present case of two attractive females, why shouldn’t he enjoy himself?
His eyes ventured to the smaller mare, the first he had encountered in Helovia that didn’t tower over him by several inches. Truth be told, he might have stolen her away too, had she only not been hornless. There was no discrimination in his heart, but he would have to abide by the rules of his new home. Also, should he bring her, he could mention a few individuals that would probably eat her alive. Shaking the unpleasant thought off with a toss of his skull, his ears perked forward as she put forward her name. He had opened his mouth to give some kind of compliment, but she seemed eager to continue, so he held her tongue.
It was an invitation, to the Foothill’s, delivered in a childish state of excitement that caused a rough laugh to emit from his lips. "Cutting straight to the chase. I like that, m’lady Poppy," he said kindly, turning his attention to Lena. "I might as well follow the example, now that our courtesies are out of the way. I would like to invite you to The World’s Edge, in hopes you would make it your home. I only recently settled down there myself, but it has been quite pleasant so far, with a lovely forest and a priceless view of the endless blue," he spoke, pausing before continuing this stream of talk. "You will find many kindred spirits with us, at this time only unicorns live in The Edge, and we are a tight-knit family. I guarantee, you will be welcomed with open hearts," he spoke sincerely, smiling softly.
Glancing at Poppy, he didn’t want to imagine her disappointment, should this new goddess not choose the Foothills, but if such misfortune should occur, he would try to make it up to her. It was out of his grasp, now it would be up to Lena to make the choice; he did not envy her, knowing how she must feel, but he had done his best to represent The Edge, and there was nothing more for him to do. |
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 |
Lena
by that sin fell the angels
|
Serenity in the basking glow of day, surrounding, mesmerizing, beautiful in its tranquil cordiality – to the sunken, sodden earth, it was a enigmatic blessing, containing the content nature of its palisade without the melancholy acts of inky shadows. They’d created it, this wondrous peace, where frailties were measured and calculated, where failures numbered and tallied, where snide smirks frosted lips and drove genial pursuits into the abyss. It was this consecrated, canonized warmth that made her heart leap, soothed, forgoing and forgetting the dreaded reasons for her arrival. The fragile emptiness of this aperture had been sullied and soiled by their blooming entities, essences of morality drenched, enamored, in kindred spirits. To think that it would ultimately end, meet its demise at their passing, whispers in the moonlight and soft murmurs of glee distorted by the next passerby, was disappointing; good things not to last. She wanted to commemorate, honor, these precious moments – for she had so very few. If only she could craft, like a magnificent artist, bring friends and comrades of the terrain together on canvas, as luminescent as they were in truth. Brushstroke after brushstroke, she would dip the vital caresses of soft, silken paint across the ivory screen and make it a heavenly reminder of beauty, undisturbed, assuaged tapestry of tenderness. Instead, it broke, distorting the image into vapor, gone.
Lena listened, composed, still, no longer the nymph but the indulgent swan, hanging upon words and phrases of lands she does not know. It is doomed to be the first difficulty she faced here, assuredly not the last, poised and lofting in the befuddling menagerie of pleasant descriptions, forests, coasts, foothills stretching to the horizon. A flutter of dread coiled in her stomach, the layers of uncertainty pulsing with that vibrant hesitancy of the unknown. Would she be welcomed? Would they be as friendly as those presented to her here and now? What was to be faced on this first journey? Which one was she doomed to disappoint? Questions addled for a few moments, and while she pondered, her smile disappeared, vexed and foreboding. It came back a minute time later, when her conviction and courage had managed to steel her heart into those valiant threads that had made her whole ages before. Dipping her head to each individual, she gallantly proceeded onward, finding her voice, stringing it to the pleasantries and hoping that no one was wounded by her decision; a choice by instinct alone. ”Thank you both for the invitations.” She paused, breathing a clean, cool intake of air, and began again. ”I believe I shall follow Aurelius.” She turned, swiftly now, to hush and settle what could have been ruffled feelings to the other occupant, the blessed little mare with an enormous heart. ”Poppy, may I still visit you?”
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For the moments that passed before they received the verdict, Aurelius remained calm and collected; even though curiosity was eating him up inside. He wanted to know more about Lena, about this ray of sunshine that had suddenly arrived into his conscience in form of her presence. Where had she come from? What had she gone through? Could anyone really be that happy without having eaten some sort of magic mushrooms? All the questions were pushed to the back of his mind as he received answer from the femme in front of him. A broad smile went over his face, but he reined himself in, not wanting to gloat in front of Poppy. "Very well, Lady Lena. I shall be honored to follow you there, when you are ready," he said with a respectful bow to both of them before retreating a bit. He decided he would let the two of them have their privacy, so they could have a chance to say farewell and maybe arrange their rendezvous. Once Lena joined him yet again, he lead her through the Threshold, beyond to the Edge – her new home. |
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