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ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Printable Version

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ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - magnus - 11-13-2016

— find what you love and let it kill you —

The meeting had rattled him more than he was willing to admit to himself. He knew he was a deeply inept leader—especially recently. What he brought to the table with experience and passion was often, if not always, outweighed by his own personal demons and, recently, by his deep-rooted depression. It was a hard monster to shake, the talons curled into his shoulders and refusing to be shook.

That meeting, that encounter, had only reinforced his fears, deepened his doubts.

Still, it also resolved his desire to do good by the people of Tephra, his adopted land. The majority of the faces that now dotted the landscape were not people who had followed him from the Gates, with a few exceptions, but were mostly those who had come from the Tundra, the Valley, the Chamber. Those who had come following Offspring, Eight, and Malis. Those who were now unrepresented by their leaders.

It was up to him to earn their trust, protect their best interests, create a safe haven.
It was a heavy burden to bear—and he was not sure he was up to the task.

Not that he showed these fears, these concerns. Instead, as the meeting came to an end, he glanced toward Aranea and Longear, the two mares who had stepped forward to accompany him on his journey. He gave them a crooked, roguish smile. “Shall we then?” before he turned to the border, where the sulphur in the air grew less pungent and the humidity began to gently fade away. He was surprised to find he missed it.

They traveled, for the most part, in silence, around the field and meadow and forest to where the trees grew less dense but larger, the trunks enormous in their width and their height. As the fog crawled along the ground, he was reminded of the Chamber, although the fog there was thicker, more ominous.

It was unfortunate that he was unfamiliar with the new borders around the lands, but he stopped before they got too far, a tradition from a time now long gone, but one he found important regardless. He motioned to the two mares to do the same before he lifted his head and let loose a low, throaty call.

It was time to see what had formed outside the borders of his own land.

magnus



@[Aranea] @[Longear]

RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Ruan - 11-13-2016

Ruan
The forest had grown quiet. After all the racing to name a land, it seemed the territories had all died. Ruan had not been a part of it, that greedy charge to take ownership, claim and mark a territory for themselves, chase after their magicks as though the fairies' powers were also theirs to conquer and possess. He only now carried his responsibilities as there was no one else to do so. He would not see the place of his heart dwindle and die.

He and Reagan had tended the forest, protected and cared for those within. Even hunting and prowling as a pair of wolves throughout the nights. While the leaders grew silent, became only ghosts and memories, they gave it life with their love, and filled it with their daughters' tinkling laughter. The Taiga may have been quiet on the outside, but it was thriving from within. Gradually growing with more life at each pass of time.

He had alighted when he sensed the subtle shift in the trees, as though they held their breath and waited. Cradled on the currents of the breeze, he scanned the area until he found them, and just as the leader of their party called out, he landed gently before them.

Massive white wings slowly folded and furled at his sides. From a charcoal face, dull magic-less eyes looked to each of them curiously. They did not look wayward and lost, did not appear to seek the sanctuary of the Taiga, and since arising as caretaker of the forest, he had as yet seen any visitors for the sole purpose of just that; visiting.

"Welcome. You've come upon the threshold of the Taiga," he greeted calmly. His dark blue gaze glanced behind him a moment, taking in the view of the treeline from their eyes, then returned to them with a smile and an amused tilt of his head. "A border of sorts, perhaps, if such things exist."

"I'm Ruan," he offered, watching them patiently.



RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Jinju - 11-13-2016

Jinju
Over the past half year she had grown comfortable with the Taiga and all her habitants. Within the borders of her (their?) home she didn’t shy away anymore, neither walked around skittishly, except for the rare occasion that new faces showed up. The strange thing was that her curiosity drove her to seek them out, eager to lay her ruby eyes upon them, even if she was too shy to actually step up to them by herself.

Jinju had noticed the arrival of strangers, their scents unfamiliar and absolutely not mingled with the Taiga’s fresh, spicy one. They didn’t belong here. Sneaking like a wolf – like her father had learned her – she had sneaked towards them. Her head low, ears alert for sounds and she carefully placed her hooves to not make any sounds that could give away her presence. Of course she wasn’t quite there yet, she still had lots to learn, but the inky black girl liked to believe that she was doing a great job.

She looks at them from her hiding spot. One golden, almost like her sister Heda but without the pretty blue, one dark and the last one is the one that intrigues her the most. A bunny tail? However, she doesn’t have a long time to study them. She has grown accustomed to the sound of wings, both her father and sister – although none related to her by blood – supported a pair. She watches the black and white and purple stallion land and address the group. A smile tugging on the corners of her lips, Jinju simply couldn’t stop it.

”Dad!” she exclaims enthusiastically, bouncing out of her hiding place to push herself up against his side tightly. Partly because she was still shy to confront them all alone, she would feel naked and unprotected, but also because she was cold. Without her fire or Reagan’s magic to keep her warm, she wasn’t able to fight the cold on her own. Ruan’s side provided her both safety and warmth. Brushing her muzzle across her father’s shoulder, she greets him silently, before shyly glancing up at the three strangers.

She’s hesitant to say something to them, not really sure what, but perhaps it was a good idea to copy her father’s words. Unaware of the resemblance she had with one of their prior leaders – as Jinju was almost a perfect copy of Offspring except for the small dot on her forehead: ruby eyes and ink black coat – she dips her head lightly, before offering a small smile. ”Hi” she says, and although short, not less meaningful.


RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Longear - 11-14-2016

She leaves Mauve and Gardenia behind to play with Victra’s girls. They are an inseparable gaggle, and something about it reminds her of home before Home – the Amazons; of the sisterhood she had never come to love, not in the way that so many did. (It had soured, turned to ash literally on her lips.) 
She had never let it ink her body with its possession – but she remembers tracing the triple goddess, fashioned from vines, on the bridge of mother’s nose with interested eyes. 

She mourns the jungle inasmuch as she mourns her mother’s disappearance. The reckoning had obliterated the starting place from the face of Beqanna, the only place she could think to look, so Longear had done the only thing that felt right. She turned away. Not forever, and not without keeping a keen ear to the wind. Her mother was gone. She leaves, and she would come back. But for now, she has the girls to keep from straying into nonsense, the coyote to find solace in, and her grandfather to help.

She follows him, now, in the dutiful way she once followed her mother to the Field. Except, with more purpose this time. Longear is fleeting, but she is not silly. War had dashed that from her body, the reckoning had reset the bones, and she can feel what gentle strength she has incubating in her gut urging her on.

Tephra is like a fledgling dropping from its nest. New. Feeble. Vulnerable.
Longear is, among many things, a nurturer. A grower. A sustainer.

What the mists had revealed alongside Tephra had been, up to this point, a mystery to her. The forest their small group wades into is quiet and still; fog hangs like old ghosts, and she wonder if they are indeed just that – Beqanna’s disembodied spirits, chained to the feet of these new pine and redwood captors. She shivers, stopping when Magnus does, though her soft, golden eyes keep busy peering into the woods around them. She may still be without her rabbit, but not the nervousness that meant, to them, survival. 
She ceases her concerned squinting only when Ruan offers his name.

She nods her head, her smile lacking none of its warmth despite her unease – she is, after all, of diplomatic stock. It is Jinju’s appearance that brings a kind of calm to her. She smiles at the girl, who is, perhaps, just a season older than her own daughters, “hello,” to them both, father and daughter, “my name is Longear.”

She elects to say no more. She may not be silly, but she is a greenhorn and defers to Magnus and the grievously quiet mare that had come with them, still an enigmatic stranger.



RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Aranea - 11-15-2016

You only see what your eyes want to see
You're frozen when your heart's not open

It surprised her, when he asked her to join him. Or at the very least allowed her to tag along. Of course it was incredibly likely that he simply did not realize her handicap - far more likely than him ignoring it. Aranea did not know and could not question him but she followed him nonetheless. If nothing else she was dutiful. While she knew full well that she would have no way to communicate with those in this kingdom - unless by some miracle there was a mind-reader or a magician present - she was curious, still.

Aranea had returned just in time for the world to be turned upside down. She had watched as those so well established here had scrambled to make sense of it all. Some part of her had mourned for the voice that she had lost (after only just regaining a taste for speech) while at the same time she was okay with being a spectator.

For a time.

That time had passed and now she yearned to be INVOLVED. The ashen mare did not want to sit idly by and watch - she wanted to play the game. Aranea wanted to dive back in headfirst and climb her way back to the top. She yearned for this and had even considered pleading her case to the faeries. Ah but wasn't it a quest for power that had landed her here in the first place? Lesson learned no doubt they would say.

So she walked in silence with the two from her home and listened to whatever conversation they found between them. No doubt if they were unaware of her lack of voice before they had left home they would be aware now.

They stopped and some came to join them - an enthusiastic child and a much quieter stallion - Aranea did not know either. Magnus clearly did, though this hardly came as a surprise. If he had been known enough to put together Tephra then no doubt he would know many.

Fire-eyes watched as they spoke and introduced themselves but she offered no more than a nod when attention shifted her direction. It was as much of an introduction as she could give and she was sure they would not press for more. She was an unknown, after all - what interest would they have in her?

The notion burned and she swallowed to quench the flame.

It did not work.

aranea
the fire-eyed shadow of covet and sage


RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Reagan - 11-15-2016



now don’t you understand…that I’m never changing who I am?
He had been after her time. And though her magic had gone out like a flame in the winter night, she could still sense that he had once been like her—sort of. It shows that once a leader, always a leader. She had once been practiced at this… this thing. This life. Foreign affairs, a lady of the court.
 
Never Queen. No. Never that.
 
And yet now she found herself the leader of a small band—family—centered in the trees, happy and healthy, if for no reason than to keep her forest from dying. She had a love of all things green, and the lichen moved with her and gave way to her as she walked slowly through the trees as a ghost from the Emerald Isle. Her memories tore through her and she clutched her rosary thoughtfully. Her heart beat suddenly—the last remnants of her magic—and she knew at once that Ruan was engaging them. That there were new creatures in her woods and that suddenly, their world was not the sheltered haven she had created for them.
 
It was now time to return to what she was… The politician and bureaucrat.
 
And so the grey Reagan appeared between the trees and stood apart from her family, making herself known to Magnus and Company, her green eyes leveling them with all the commanding power of  a leader—as if she was trying to remember what it was like to lead. She does not know the other two, though their faces are familiar. She assumes that they are just like Jinju and Ruan are to her—family.
 
“Hello Magnus, it has been a long time. What brings you to my forest?”


RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - magnus - 11-19-2016

— find what you love and let it kill you —

Magnus knew that greed had been part of some who had clambered to find a home, but he preferred to think it had been something else—something purer. When he and Offspring had braved the mountainside, he had not done so to try and put another notch next to his name. Both he and the behemoth had already worn crowns and held titles. They had not hungered for such power again. They had simply bore the weight of responsibility, of hungry mouths and scared eyes, of those who looked to them for answers.

They could not simply turn them away and wish for the best. They had needed to find a home.

Magnus watched calmly as the stallion approached them, his gaze steady and measured. He had been on enough diplomatic ventures to know procedure and he was unruffled by the proceedings. He simply dipped his head as Ruan introduced himself, although his attention was quickly diverted by the child who bounded toward them. His expression warmed (he had always loved children) and his smile grew without thought. For a second he tilted his head in confusion, questions on his expression at the resemblance between her and Offspring, but he wiped it away quickly. It was certainly not his placed to question her paternity, and she had clearly called upon Ruan as her father. He wasn’t here to stir any proverbial pot.

He remained silent still, as Longear introduced herself (his heart warmed at how poised she was and as Aranea remained collected and enigmatic by his side. He remained silent as Reagan approached and plucked his name from his mind, or history, or both, although his eyes did flicker momentarily. Finally, once all the voices had died down, he gave a crooked smile. “Hello, to you all. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Measured words, practiced diplomacy. He had not been born a wordsmith or a politician, but enough years, enough training could teach even the stubbornest of Princes to watch his tongue. “My name is Magnus.”

His smile grew a little mischievous as he glanced toward Reagan. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Reagan. It has been a while." It had indeed been a long time since the two had crossed paths in the meadow, when the new world had been born forth and confusion had settled thickly in the air. “We are from Tephra, a nearby land. We are beginning to establish ourselves, and we simply wished to make a peaceful visit, to establish formally introduce ourselves and see for ourselves how the other lands are doing now that the dust has settled.”

magnus



EDITED! magnus would have remembered reagan. excuse my poor memory. D:

RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Ruan - 11-19-2016

Ruan
His eldest daughter burst from the foliage like a happy sparrow, flying straight into his side. He lifted his wing naturally to allow her in, draping it over her in a light hug as he nuzzled her neck. There you are, my bright flame. She'd already gotten better with her wolf ways; he hadn't even realized she was there as she crouched downwind from the drifting breeze.

Jinju greeted them, and he noted a slight change in those present. The girl's entrance was a balm to the awkward stuffiness of diplomacy. They were less a kingdom, and more a band of family. An ever-growing pack. The faint hint of edginess in the mare that smelled like prey smoothed away into neutral comfort. As she gave her name, Longear, he tried not to think how fun it'd be to chase her. Hare were always great fun.

Instead, his eyes slid to the darker mare and lingered in curiosity as he felt Reagan join the meeting. He didn't have to see her to know she was there. Even without her magic, power centered around her like an aura of grace and dignity. He on the other hand was quiet, a bit wild. Solid and watchful. The support and foundation that held her high and steady.

His eyes still studied the silent one as they spoke.
"Hello Magnus, it has been a long time. What brings you to my forest?" Reagan addressed the leader, the golden one named Magnus. Ruan frowned in confusion and his gaze flickered to the man as he repeated what Reagan said with, "My name is Magnus." He asked her if they'd met before, and apologized for his slippery memory.

Magnus continued, stating his home and his purpose to introduce themselves to the other territories. Everyone had traded names, save for the dark and mysterious one, so mission accomplished in Ruan's mind, he supposed. Dull-blue eyes steadied on her again, tilting his head curiously.

He trusted Reagan to conduct the business side of the conversation, keeping his hearing in tune with their talk to learn from it as he did his own speaking of a sort. He wasn't knowledgeable in how these things were meant to be handled, had never been a leader, and kept an eager mind to learn it from one far more experienced, as he approached the woman cautiously. He blew a gentle breath at her, taking in her scent in a silent introduction. A wolf's greeting, perhaps.

His gaze drifted to his mate every so often, listening intently. Soaking in everything she had to teach him in these odd, political ways.


ooc: im still new at group threading and hopefully did not come off as ignoring anyone x.x

RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Aranea - 11-20-2016

You only see what your eyes want to see
You're frozen when your heart's not open

The voices rolled over her, waves upon a tumultuous sea, and pulled her under with each word. She surfaced, gasping, only to be pulled under by the next ones spoken. They taunted her, called to her, and she had no sound to give them. Aranea had nothing to give them.

She was a fool for coming, perhaps. What good was a diplomat with no voice? Fighting... she could do that... it required no sound but the language of her body. So why this? Why was she HERE?

It was a question that circled around in her mind, a restless animal caged. The shadowy mare grew anxious, unnerved, until her fiery eyes found ones of blue. In a second she was grounded, wrenched to the surface by the calming color, her gaze riveted upon his. Her breath released in an exhale - she had not even realized she had been holding it.

Fool, get a hold of yourself.

Her attention slipped from the torrent of voices and instead focused on this silent entity. He had not joined the ruckus but instead stepped in her direction - she could not mask her surprise. Eyes of vivid orange widened as her head lowered to return his silent greeting. Despite her own insecurity (strange, that, for one once so confident) she appreciated his attention. It was good to be noticed, even if she could give him nothing more than a breath and a tip of her head.

aranea
the fire-eyed shadow of covet and sage


RE: ghosts with just voices; aranea, longear, any - Jinju - 11-23-2016

Jinju
Her ruby eyes twinkle upon hearing Ruan’s greeting, offering him a smile at the same time, but he doesn’t hold her attention long, even though she stays closely at his side. It is the pale stranger that speaks up first, the one with the silly bunny tail. She does not notice the slight change in the mare upon her own arrival, and even less that she isn’t the only one who eases somewhat at her sight. As the inky black girl tilts her head, still studying nervous looking one, but answering her smile with one of her own, a shy one though. However, she doesn’t get a chance to reply – either verbally or in any other way – as her mother shows up in her full glory. ”Mom!” she greets the gray mare, maybe a bit louder than was appropriate. She was about to move away from underneath Ruan’s wing, but stops when she notices the almost stern aura around her mother, surprising her and catching her off guard.

Jinju watches Magnus as he introduces himself, even though her mother had revealed his name already. His words are kind, voice pleasant to listen to, a charmer he is. Yet she cannot help it but to like him. But perhaps that’s because she simply is too young to know about politics and diplomacy. His story about memory loss intrigues her more. Was that something that really could happen? What if she would forget her parents? Or even worse, when they would forget about her? Without realising it her breath quickens, thoughts all over the place and mind in an overdrive. It is Ruan who snaps her out of it, as his wings tightens around her, like he was silently reassuring her that all was fine.

Just in time to hear Magnus tell them where they are from. Another land, different from theirs, but in some way the same. Then states the purpose of their visit, but the things he speaks of are still too complicated for Jinju’s young mind. Sure she knew the words, but not what he meant to say with them. Did he just came over to meet each other and be friends? Or was there more? Jinju is eager to speak up, to show them – or mostly the golden one – around, but she stays silent. Her father hadn’t replied to Magnus’ words, which confuses her. There must be a reason behind it, so the young black filly leaves it to her mother to reply.

All this time the black one had kept silent. Not joining the conversation, not even sharing her name. Because of this she is easily forgotten, that’s how Jinju experiences it at least. Until the dark woman catches her attention, out of the corner of her eye. Red eyes study the dark figure, curious to learn more about her. After all, the conversation was for adults, as Jinju didn’t follow it anyway.