[open] you can keep your black tongue; any - 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] you can keep your black tongue; any (/showthread.php?tid=29145) |
you can keep your black tongue; any - Padme - 04-08-2021 Padme survived the end times – just barely – and came out the other side scarred, heavily pregnant and a smidge traumatized from her otherworldly experiences here on the regular plane. She was attacked and chased from the field by some freaky pack of hybrid demon things, contorted, blood-red glowing eyes and snapping drooling jaws. She has a clear claw mark scar etched into her left hip, the hair growing back black against gray where her flesh was damaged. On her neck, just behind her cheekbone, there is a bite mark scar, still pink from healing. Where she was once a deep black she’s now gray. Stubborn shadows of her former coloring border her serrated white patches, and smokey black remains across her face and head. Her muted tones frame the fiery chestnut of her foal, born quickly in the night just after the light returned. Things went well, especially for a first-time delivery. The foal is brand new, and her mother is malnourished, tearing violently at the fresh grass while the summer sun casts unhindered across the Meadow. Mourna is a quiet, observant baby in her second day. She stays close to the patchy underbelly of her soft nosed mother, which makes her feel ‘safe’. Her first grip on life is ‘safe’ and ‘YIKES’ – she tries her best to stay within touching distance of her mother, keeping her warmth and smell close, or else the latter feeling comes over her. She follows the sweet smell of her mother’s milk, and weaves in and out of her long legs, letting her mother’s long raven-black tail cascade over her little red face. In time it might be in their best interest to find a permanent residence, but when she tried that, it did not go well. No one came, until something came. She’s just fine with being here until the baby is a little stronger. PADMÉ
the high black water, the devil's daughter idk, but anyone feel free to stumble upon them. side-bar: pad just gave birth, somewhere at some point and just has a little ginger baby now RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Ciri - 04-09-2021 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Padme] RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Padme - 04-16-2021 Padme isn’t particularly social, like her stone-mannered mother, but unlike her freckled maternal guardian – she isn’t quite sour to a little pleasant company, either. When the mare approaches there is a fleeting instant where the mother’s dark ears flatten into her black hair, a warning, but the polite hello and a smile softens Pad’s demeanor right away. This stranger means no obvious threat, she soothes herself, touching her nose to her skittish child. She is cautious still, as any diligent mother should be, especially for the first baby, but she is not overly dramatic about it. Her expression isn’t exactly warm, but she isn’t snarling, or scowling, nodding after the mare adds to her hello. “It can’t hurt, right?” this breaks her ambiguous look and she chuckles, cracking a smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in anyone’s company at all – when you hear noises in the darkness, you don’t stop to see if it is friendly..” she laughs again, light, subconsciously bumping her muzzle against her baby again before she continues. “I did not, anyway.” she smirks, bring her head up from the ginger newborn to level her gaze with the stranger. “I’m Padme, this is Mourna.” when her daughter’s name leaves her lips it melts just a little. If she could sense at all the mourning in the mare before her it would cause much more delicacy. But she has no such magic, she is not sensitive to the mare’s inner pangs of pain, or the gutting feeling she gets when looking upon a healthy newborn. Padme hasn’t had such a pain in her life, and the thought doesn’t cross her mind, she is only proud to show the mare her child. At some point Pad thinks she may see a heaviness, a sadness, in the mare’s gaze when she looks at Mourna, but her brain dismisses it, it does not recognize it. Someday she may make this connection, showing a mourning mother a new child, but for now she is oblivious and only stupidly beaming. PADMÉ & MOURNA
the high black water, the devil's daughter this one hurt me to write a little D: @[Ciri] RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Ciri - 04-16-2021 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Padme] <3333 RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Padme - 04-24-2021 Padme looks up from the baby to look over the woman in front of her. Something about the look in her eye, it makes the paint mare’s heart stir in her chest. She’s not sure why, really, but a fleeting sadness washes through her and she’s not sure what it is. But Ciri’s voice breaks the light trance she’s in, her empathic moment she doesn’t understand and Pad’s lips crease in a smile. “Oh yes,” she replies, recanting her experience of living alone in the darkness. “And for most of it I was so pregnant.” She grunts, “It was so awful.” she bumps her pale nose on the baby, continuing, “I even tried to find home – went to the Field, the only thing that came for me were the Monsters.” her heartrate rises just remembering. “I am so glad it’s over.” PADMÉ
the high black water, the devil's daughter @[Ciri] ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Ciri - 04-25-2021 Ciri all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was @[Padme] RE: you can keep your black tongue; any - Padme - 05-24-2021 She can’t help herself, chuckling a bit at the father question. “No,” she touches the little red baby. “Her father is useless in that regard.” She smiles to herself, thinking of Carnage, of how he’s inseminated 70% of the population and fathered much more than that…sometimes doing both of those things. With a dark God, it’s different, the magic knows very little boundary, if any, and depravity has held darklings back anyhow. The baby sneezes, bumping its nose against her mother’s belly and slowly finding its way to nurse. “A kingdom.” she repeats the title, blinking, looking to the horizon and then back to Ciri. “Yeah,” she takes a deep breath, “that’s a good idea – I feel the same way, I like the Meadow, but I’m over it.” She steps forward, guding the baby with her muzzle, letting Ciri lead the way. PADMÉ
the high black water, the devil's daughter sorry to hold us up, @[Ciri] - i'll post to her in Icicle Isle as if she followed if hehe |