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+------ Thread: [open] a taste of immorality (/showthread.php?tid=27394)
a taste of immorality - Straia - 07-03-2020
is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
To come back from the dead is a strange thing, made stranger still by what she has come back as. It is as if she is neither living nor dead. Perhaps that is the feeling of immortality, something she perhaps could have had through her magic before but never sought. She does not seek it now either, not truly. Yet she has become immortal, if through nothing but the ever-burning pine tree.
Yet it had never been for her glory or power that she’d done anything, but for the Chamber. It had been ripped away so easily, lost to time and forgotten by most that call Beqanna home now. Certainly it’s greatness was long forgotten, even if the name can occasionally be remembered.
The Silver Cove is a beautiful place, but it is not her Chamber. Still, it is dotted with small patches of trees that remind her of the pine forests of the Chamber, and unbidden, the memory of being a child playing with her squirrel friends comes back to how. How strange a thought; how far she has come.
Today she wanders the forests. She can simply disappear, can simply cease to exist, and the tree will burn without her and give out it’s boons as it was designed to do. It does not need her, though they are one in the same. More than immortality, perhaps, but a small taste of godhood. Time passes differently for her. She does not languish in boredom, but simply decides to live or not to live. There was something far sweeter to true mortality, though she cannot say she minds this either.
Yet it had never been for her glory or power that she’d done anything, but for the Chamber. It had been ripped away so easily, lost to time and forgotten by most that call Beqanna home now. Certainly it’s greatness was long forgotten, even if the name can occasionally be remembered.
The Silver Cove is a beautiful place, but it is not her Chamber. Still, it is dotted with small patches of trees that remind her of the pine forests of the Chamber, and unbidden, the memory of being a child playing with her squirrel friends comes back to how. How strange a thought; how far she has come.
Today she wanders the forests. She can simply disappear, can simply cease to exist, and the tree will burn without her and give out it’s boons as it was designed to do. It does not need her, though they are one in the same. More than immortality, perhaps, but a small taste of godhood. Time passes differently for her. She does not languish in boredom, but simply decides to live or not to live. There was something far sweeter to true mortality, though she cannot say she minds this either.
I feel like posting; someone come bother her
RE: a taste of immorality - evarae - 07-04-2020
It's too good to be true, I ain't got nothin' to do with you
Evarae
@[Straia]
RE: a taste of immorality - Straia - 07-10-2020
is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
There was a time when she’d been so curious. A time when she’d been nothing but a small child, left to roam the forests of the Chamber by herself. She’d explored daily, watching from the sidelines as her father let their kingdom rot. Straia had always been a patient creature, even then, waiting until the time was right. A patient creature, yes, but a terrible daughter. Her father had not deserved the crown he’d worn, and when the time was finally right, she took it.
That had been the beginning of everything, really.
She recognizes the boy that comes up to her today, and it is the child that interests her far more than the protective and polite dam. Children are far more moldable, and this particular child rather seems to like her tree. To be perfectly frank, the mare doesn’t even actually say hello but busies herself being embarrassed by a child for being a child.
Straia’s glances in the mare’s direction, clearly appraising. ”He is fine,” she says cooly, for though she is many terrible things, Straia has still been a mother. Not a very good one (at least, not in the traditional sense), but she’d loved her children. Her attention turns back to the boy and she drops her muzzle to greet him, closing the space between them.
She withdraws after a moment, something of a smile on her face. ”I am the burning pine tree that you are so fond of,” she says, her voice silky and smooth. It is absolutely a dangerous sound, though she has no ill intentions. Well, she would not consider them ill, though she will influence young minds if they are the right ones. ”My name is Straia.”
That had been the beginning of everything, really.
She recognizes the boy that comes up to her today, and it is the child that interests her far more than the protective and polite dam. Children are far more moldable, and this particular child rather seems to like her tree. To be perfectly frank, the mare doesn’t even actually say hello but busies herself being embarrassed by a child for being a child.
Straia’s glances in the mare’s direction, clearly appraising. ”He is fine,” she says cooly, for though she is many terrible things, Straia has still been a mother. Not a very good one (at least, not in the traditional sense), but she’d loved her children. Her attention turns back to the boy and she drops her muzzle to greet him, closing the space between them.
She withdraws after a moment, something of a smile on her face. ”I am the burning pine tree that you are so fond of,” she says, her voice silky and smooth. It is absolutely a dangerous sound, though she has no ill intentions. Well, she would not consider them ill, though she will influence young minds if they are the right ones. ”My name is Straia.”
@[evarae]