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+----- Thread: [open] and you will see me (/showthread.php?tid=27935)
and you will see me - crowns - 10-02-2020
CrownS
The curse would always find a host so long as the bloodline carried on. Ghaul’s insanity and inevitable death were only ever an inconvenience. Now, while the veil between worlds is still so paper thin, it flexes. It moves like a fog through the Tephran jungle, mingling with the humidity here and drifting ever further between the trees. That reptilian curse drifts over Sabbath and considers her for a while as wisps like fingers caress her face. But she is hellbent on her own mission - an unsuitable breeding ground for the chaos it wants to foster.
Slowly, inch by inch, it coils around her infant child. Crowns is eager. More importantly, he is hungry and without direction. He would devour whatever he is given. The darkness seeps down between his gently parted lips and gathers in the pit of his stomach. The sapphire and bay colt wakes with hacking coughs that draw his mother to his side despite the shroud of exhaustion clouding her vision.
“Crowns? Are you alright?” she asks as she gently noses at his cheek. He nods and continues his coughing.
“I’m okay. I just,” he pauses, wheezing, “I just need some.. water.”
He fights to breathe around the burning sensation in his throat. The boy stumbles up onto his small hooves and wanders from the warm den. There is a stream just past a few trees, he knows, and so he slinks toward the sound of running water. Crowns drinks and drinks but he seems unsatisfied despite how cool the water feels over his parched tongue.
Another cough escapes him as he lifts his small head. Perhaps he’s running a fever? He whimpers feebly at his discomfort and gingerly eases himself into the waters now. A little hiss slips from between his teeth when the cold water splashes up onto his thighs and belly. Steam sizzles and bubbles where the stream meets his skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too preoccupied with keeping his balance against the gentle current.
Slowly, inch by inch, it coils around her infant child. Crowns is eager. More importantly, he is hungry and without direction. He would devour whatever he is given. The darkness seeps down between his gently parted lips and gathers in the pit of his stomach. The sapphire and bay colt wakes with hacking coughs that draw his mother to his side despite the shroud of exhaustion clouding her vision.
“Crowns? Are you alright?” she asks as she gently noses at his cheek. He nods and continues his coughing.
“I’m okay. I just,” he pauses, wheezing, “I just need some.. water.”
He fights to breathe around the burning sensation in his throat. The boy stumbles up onto his small hooves and wanders from the warm den. There is a stream just past a few trees, he knows, and so he slinks toward the sound of running water. Crowns drinks and drinks but he seems unsatisfied despite how cool the water feels over his parched tongue.
Another cough escapes him as he lifts his small head. Perhaps he’s running a fever? He whimpers feebly at his discomfort and gingerly eases himself into the waters now. A little hiss slips from between his teeth when the cold water splashes up onto his thighs and belly. Steam sizzles and bubbles where the stream meets his skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too preoccupied with keeping his balance against the gentle current.
he's a sick lil baby and i feel bad
RE: and you will see me - Isilya - 10-02-2020
Isilya
yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
her purest of crystal and brightest of green
’twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
OBVIOUSLY I gotta @[crowns]
RE: and you will see me - crowns - 10-02-2020
CrownS
Her magic is born from light, a nurturing sort of strength that serves as a balm against the darkness of this world. The curse feels her draw near and recoils from the blinding light of her. It has not fully bonded itself to the boy’s soul and she could pluck it from his core if she tried. But she only seems interested in caring for the side effects, for now, and so it quiets for the time being.
Crowns, meanwhile, wonders why he feels his temperature spike for a fleeting second when Isilya arrives. He whimpers at the scorching warmth and sways once it subsides again. But the Tephran queen is already working to soothe his fever, threading her magic into the stream and slowing its course to him. A tired grin forms on his face as the water laps gently against him. Gradually, the steam grows thin, though it lingers still.
“That does feel better,” he agrees. “What’s your name? I’m Crowns.”
He doesn’t realize that she already knows his grandmother and perhaps his mother as well. The boy lacks both the strength and the discipline to skim through the echoes of time to discern who she is or what she knows of him. In fact, it will probably never occur to him to just snatch these sorts of facts from thin air.
His dark blue gaze drifts to the hibiscus birds flittering above them. They draw a smile across his face, coupled with a gentle fit of laughter as he stares in wonder at them. “Are those yours? Do they have names too?” he asks without lowering his head to look back at her once more.
Crowns, meanwhile, wonders why he feels his temperature spike for a fleeting second when Isilya arrives. He whimpers at the scorching warmth and sways once it subsides again. But the Tephran queen is already working to soothe his fever, threading her magic into the stream and slowing its course to him. A tired grin forms on his face as the water laps gently against him. Gradually, the steam grows thin, though it lingers still.
“That does feel better,” he agrees. “What’s your name? I’m Crowns.”
He doesn’t realize that she already knows his grandmother and perhaps his mother as well. The boy lacks both the strength and the discipline to skim through the echoes of time to discern who she is or what she knows of him. In fact, it will probably never occur to him to just snatch these sorts of facts from thin air.
His dark blue gaze drifts to the hibiscus birds flittering above them. They draw a smile across his face, coupled with a gentle fit of laughter as he stares in wonder at them. “Are those yours? Do they have names too?” he asks without lowering his head to look back at her once more.
RE: and you will see me - Isilya - 10-05-2020
Isilya
yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
her purest of crystal and brightest of green
’twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
@[crowns]
RE: and you will see me - crowns - 10-08-2020
CrownS
He finds it easier to think as Isilya’s waters run over him. Slowly, his body stops swaying as it tries to balance, and he finds himself distracted by the flittering birds until she introduces herself. Isilya. Had Sabbath told him about her? His little face scrunches up in thought as he tries to remember all the names he’d been told during her boring lessons. The name doesn’t quite ring a bell but he settles for knowing that she is somebody important. At least he knows he should be polite.
“Thank you!” he chirps, already showing off those good manners. “I like yours too.”
He grins as his gaze drifts to the birds once more. When they come to land on his head, he laughs softly and tries to remain very still so as not to disturb them. His small ear twitches as her pet’s beak lightly tickles at his ear. A laugh threatens to come bubbling up but he bites it back once his dark blue eyes settle on Isilya once more. Oh! She made them?
“How did you make them? Does that make you their mom?” he asks in wide-eyed wonder. “I guess I’d name them Blossom and Bloom. I’m not good at names like my mom is. She’s the one who named me.”
It does not occur to Crowns that mothers are, typically, the ones who bestow a name upon their children. He begins to wonder if he should practice naming things in case he ever becomes a mother some day.
“Thank you!” he chirps, already showing off those good manners. “I like yours too.”
He grins as his gaze drifts to the birds once more. When they come to land on his head, he laughs softly and tries to remain very still so as not to disturb them. His small ear twitches as her pet’s beak lightly tickles at his ear. A laugh threatens to come bubbling up but he bites it back once his dark blue eyes settle on Isilya once more. Oh! She made them?
“How did you make them? Does that make you their mom?” he asks in wide-eyed wonder. “I guess I’d name them Blossom and Bloom. I’m not good at names like my mom is. She’s the one who named me.”
It does not occur to Crowns that mothers are, typically, the ones who bestow a name upon their children. He begins to wonder if he should practice naming things in case he ever becomes a mother some day.
RE: and you will see me - Isilya - 10-15-2020
Isilya
yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
her purest of crystal and brightest of green
’twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
@[crowns]
RE: and you will see me - crowns - 10-18-2020
CrownS
His small ears perk up straight when she compliments his choice of names. Crowns can’t help but grin with his chest puffed up as he begins to learn that he, too, could pick out excellent names for babies - even if these are little birds woven from vines and flowers. He will work his way up to bigger things and maybe name children of his own someday. The idea thrills him and he momentarily forgets his fever altogether.
The boy tilts his head when she explains her magic. He’s heard the word, certainly, but he didn’t know the magicians drew their strength from things. Crowns has only ver heard his grandfathers speak of how the mages cannot be trusted, though he couldn’t quite discern why they each felt this way - especially since his grandmother was a mage herself. But Sabbath only kissed his head and told him that sometimes men are stupid creatures, and that’s why mothers were made. Isilya seems to prove this fact as she teaches him.
“Do you have a favorite plant, then? Can you talk to them?” he asks as he edges a little closer with wide eyes. A hundred other new questions spring to his mind but he reserves them for later, asking only the most dire ones for now. Crowns tries his best to lift his gaze to the bird perched on his head now as he reconsiders it.
“If this bird is like your baby, then the jungle is sort of your family?” he thinks aloud, trying his best to map out what the jungle may mean to her then. He had always felt drawn to the strange eyes that reflected the moon’s light in them at night. They seemed to call him, and he wonders if she feels the same when the breeze rustles the trees on a nice day or when she spots a sapling springing to life in the undergrowth.
The boy tilts his head when she explains her magic. He’s heard the word, certainly, but he didn’t know the magicians drew their strength from things. Crowns has only ver heard his grandfathers speak of how the mages cannot be trusted, though he couldn’t quite discern why they each felt this way - especially since his grandmother was a mage herself. But Sabbath only kissed his head and told him that sometimes men are stupid creatures, and that’s why mothers were made. Isilya seems to prove this fact as she teaches him.
“Do you have a favorite plant, then? Can you talk to them?” he asks as he edges a little closer with wide eyes. A hundred other new questions spring to his mind but he reserves them for later, asking only the most dire ones for now. Crowns tries his best to lift his gaze to the bird perched on his head now as he reconsiders it.
“If this bird is like your baby, then the jungle is sort of your family?” he thinks aloud, trying his best to map out what the jungle may mean to her then. He had always felt drawn to the strange eyes that reflected the moon’s light in them at night. They seemed to call him, and he wonders if she feels the same when the breeze rustles the trees on a nice day or when she spots a sapling springing to life in the undergrowth.
RE: and you will see me - Isilya - 10-22-2020
Isilya
yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene
her purest of crystal and brightest of green
’twas not her soft magic of streamlet or rill
oh! no, it was something more exquisite still
@[crowns]
RE: and you will see me - crowns - 10-26-2020
CrownS
Crowns stares in awe, craning his neck to watch the flowers along her back become flowers he doesn’t think he’s seen before. He likes the way they hang down her sides rather than stare upward at the sun or any source of light. She explains that she was born with these flowers and he supposes she loves them the way he loves his wings. They change in shape a little more each day, but they always drip across his back to remind him that they’re there. He turns his navy head to consider them now and he’s surprised at how pointed the elbow joint looks today. He says nothing of this, though, choosing instead to bring his attention to her once more.
A shrill laugh escapes him as the root surprises him with its wiggling against his leg. He dances away, still trying to balance the little bird on his head. Crowns has made up his mind that he rather likes this flower woman.
“I think living as a tree would be relaxing,” he says as his giggling dies down. He watches her then as she says the jungle is alive, and this he understands quite easily - the glowing eyes of the night, the birdsong lullaby that grows to morning calls that wake him. Crowns can’t imagine living anywhere else if they don’t have the same sounds and liveliness.
“The jungle has a pulse of its own, too,” he says with an absent-minded nod. He isn’t sure how he knows it, but he can feel it separate from his own heartbeat. The flow of the lava far beneath them moves in gentle time with the blood in his veins. Every day, its siren’s call has grown stronger, and someday he will explore its smoldering depths. But today he is here with Isilya, and that is more than enough for now.
A shrill laugh escapes him as the root surprises him with its wiggling against his leg. He dances away, still trying to balance the little bird on his head. Crowns has made up his mind that he rather likes this flower woman.
“I think living as a tree would be relaxing,” he says as his giggling dies down. He watches her then as she says the jungle is alive, and this he understands quite easily - the glowing eyes of the night, the birdsong lullaby that grows to morning calls that wake him. Crowns can’t imagine living anywhere else if they don’t have the same sounds and liveliness.
“The jungle has a pulse of its own, too,” he says with an absent-minded nod. He isn’t sure how he knows it, but he can feel it separate from his own heartbeat. The flow of the lava far beneath them moves in gentle time with the blood in his veins. Every day, its siren’s call has grown stronger, and someday he will explore its smoldering depths. But today he is here with Isilya, and that is more than enough for now.