[open] your string of lights is still bright to me - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Meadow (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=3) +---- Thread: [open] your string of lights is still bright to me (/showthread.php?tid=28670) |
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your string of lights is still bright to me - Gale - 01-06-2021
RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Hourglass - 01-09-2021 — and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side just to say that I'm yours and you'll never be mine — Despite how much she hated to be alone, Hourglass had isolated herself in the days before the eclipse. She did not understand how her friendship with Aureus had unraveled so quickly and suddenly, but it was an injury to her heart like she had never experienced before. She almost swears that if she could open up her chest and see inside that her heart would bear the spider-web cracking that she is imagining – like glass beginning to break. She hated realizing that she was just as fragile as she has pretended not to be, and so she only allows herself a brief amount of time to gather herself together and return again to the meadow. The darkness that has descended made it easy to pretend to not see him, or anyone, and she uses her infrared vision only to avoid the largest groups of horses. The warmth of their bodies stands out like flickering flames in the dark, and soon she finds herself along the outskirts, following the sound of water rushing over rock. She walks to the edge, exhaling a sigh as her vision shifts back to normal, allowing herself to be enveloped by the darkness. Between the dark and the rushing of the water, she is able to, if only momentarily, forget the way her heart still ached, and divert her mind from the confused thoughts that still lingered. With a front hoof, she scuffs idly at a small rock, laughing quietly to herself at the ting sound it makes against the glass before dropping into the water. A sound to her right makes her freeze, though, having been so lost in her thoughts that she did not realize anyone else had been there. She has not yet come across anything strange in the dark, but the fact that it remained for so long was enough to make her uneasy. Something wasn't right, even if she didn't know what. But she soon sees that it is just another horse – a normal one (she thinks) – and the previous tension melts away when she releases her anxious breath with a quiet, “Oh.” She turns toward him, lilac-colored eyes seeking him out through the shadows when she apologizes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was over here.” She pauses, knowing she should take her leave since usually when someone is alone it is because they want to be, but instead she extends to him with a clear hope in her voice, “My name is Hourglass.” hourglass — with this love like a hole, swallow my soul — RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Gale - 01-10-2021
RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Hourglass - 01-19-2021 — and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side just to say that I'm yours and you'll never be mine — She is immediately put at ease by his amiable tone, and she again feels warmth spread inside of her chest. For a moment the ache in her heart doesn’t seem as strong— the crack suddenly not as deep. She hadn’t realized how badly she craved interaction, until this moment. How she needed to hear someone’s voice, especially in this newfound darkness, because she couldn’t bear the sound of her own thoughts. She isn’t the type that fares well alone, she has come to realize that, and the idea unsettles her. “That’s good, because I didn’t really want to leave,” she says with a quiet laugh, and she closes the space that had existed between them. The dark has left her feeling overly exposed and she is grateful for friendly company — or any company at all. She turns her eyes to the sky at his question, as if she has not already looked for the sun a hundred or so times. She shakes her head with an apologetic smile, the copper-colored strands of her hair swaying easily across the smooth glass of her neck and along the angles of her face. “I’m afraid I don’t. Has anyone tried asking it nicely to come back?” She teases, but it is clearly forced — her gaze is still angled upward, where the moon continues to fully block the sun, and she feels the dread begin to settle like ice beneath her skin once more. She is young, and this was the first strange event that she has witnessed happening; she is learning that she doesn’t like the unknown, or the way the darkness feels like hundreds of eyes watching her. “Gale,” she repeats his name, and she likes how light it feels in her glass mouth. It brings a smile to her lips, and through the dark some of the worry fades from her light-colored eyes when she looks back to him. “Why do you think the eclipse is lasting so long?” she asks him with a cautious optimism, searching for a single thread of hope to cling to; that maybe this stranger in the meadow has the faintest idea what is happening. hourglass — with this love like a hole, swallow my soul — RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Gale - 01-23-2021
RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Hourglass - 02-07-2021 — and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side just to say that I'm yours and you'll never be mine — His answer is not what she had hoped, but something in his own uncertainty was reassuring. The idea that no one seemed to know what was happening was almost unifying, in its own way. They were all at a loss, but they were at least confused together. There is still a part of her that thinks someone out there knows exactly what is happening, but perhaps they like the world being plunged into darkness. It keeps the unease fresh in her chest, that constant worry that the dark was being used to subdue them, somehow. But he speaks of the Alliance, and she gives a curious tilt of her glass head. “The Alliance?” She has heard the word, just in passing, but did not entirely know what it was. Hourglass did not live in any particular land, and had never made an attempt to settle into one, either. The Alliance had piqued her interest, but being made of glass she had forced herself to push it from her mind. Perhaps in a different life she could have been a fighter. In this one, though, she has resigned herself to the fact that she is too fragile for such things. “Did you fight in it?” she asks him with the faintest hint of admiration, her glass-heart quickening just a little at the thought. She laughs good-naturedly at his teasing remark about mainlanders and war, and her glossy, copper shoulder rolls in a way reminiscent of a shrug. “I don’t live in any of the lands, but they do seem to have a fondness for fighting.” Catching onto the way he had referred to them, she comments curiously, “You must live on one of the islands, then?” hourglass — with this love like a hole, swallow my soul — RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Gale - 03-01-2021
RE: your string of lights is still bright to me - Hourglass - 03-21-2021 — and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side just to say that I'm yours and you'll never be mine — “I wish I could fight,” she tells him a little wistfully, but she looks down at her glass legs as she says it and her face falls. She was not as fragile as she felt, and sometimes it was easy to forget. Hourglass has never been timid or shy—as a child she bordered on reckless, and the tighter the hold her mother had tried to keep on her the more she had fought against it. She wanted to see how hard she could push herself, wanted to see how far she could go until she felt like she might break. It was never as far as she would have liked. No matter the ferocity she might feel inside of her chest or the heat of the blood in her veins, she had not been given a body that could withstand it. “I bet I could have won,” she says with an exaggerated tone of faux arrogance, and the smile on her lips is a teasing one when she adds, “I mean, if I wasn’t glass, I think I could take you.” With her delicate head tilted upwards at a haughty angle she still cannot keep up the charade for long, and it falls away with a lilting laugh. “Maybe next time.” Her eyes follow the direction that he points, and she realizes that not only has she never been to the island he speaks of, but she’s never even been to that side of Beqanna. The furthest she has ever gone is the autumn woods of Sylva and a little bit of the Pampas. “I was born in the meadow,” she answers his question, scanning around her, knowing that somewhere beneath all that shadow and dark was the land she was most familiar with. “My mother grew up in Pangea, but she didn’t want my twin sister and I there. So she kept us here, and I just never really had a reason to...live anywhere, I guess.” Her mother and father were in Pangea again, last she had heard, but Hourglass has never been tempted to rejoin them. She has grown too accustomed to freedom, to no borders and no one to answer to. “I don’t mind it. The meadow, the forest, the river—I just drift between them all.” Her expression turns pensive as she grows quiet, before finally admitting softly, “It can be lonely, but I don’t think calling a certain land home would fix it.” hourglass — with this love like a hole, swallow my soul — @[Gale] |