11-01-2018, 06:45 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
He doesn’t quite understand what is happening, or even how. This isn’t what he remembered, but alas, he can recollect very little. This is Beqanna, that much he knows, but everything else is beyond his grasp. There had been a voice to awaken him, stirring him from a slumber he never knew he slipped into.
But then there had been another voice. It was Beqanna, the faeries.
Last he heard from them, the world had been reshaped and everyone stripped of what they were. This time it is different.
A plague is destroying Beqanna, but there are some lands that have since sprouted to provide refuge. Curious, Tiphon took to the skies until he noticed the spit of land off shore. It whispers to him wistfully, and so he obeys with a smooth tilt of his body. It is likely occupied, he muses, but then perhaps they could enlighten him on the events. Wasn’t Beqanna once green and lush? He wants to think so, but again, the memories are clouds that he cannot seems to hold onto. This world of death and disease is the only thing he is confident about. This is home, this is life.
His voice is smooth, rolling past his lips like the sweet strum of a harp. There isn’t a sense of urgency, worry, or even aggression. It’s a noise announcing himself while also determining whether this island is plagued as well. When silence ensues, Tiphon isn’t quite sure whether he is concerned or relieved. There is no stench of decay when he breathes in a lungful of air – there is nothing, actually. There is a taste of abandonment that makes his descent more hesitant. He wants to heal, to face this blemish that has claimed Beqanna.
This is where he can begin, he muses, staring across the water’s edge curiously.
But then there had been another voice. It was Beqanna, the faeries.
Last he heard from them, the world had been reshaped and everyone stripped of what they were. This time it is different.
A plague is destroying Beqanna, but there are some lands that have since sprouted to provide refuge. Curious, Tiphon took to the skies until he noticed the spit of land off shore. It whispers to him wistfully, and so he obeys with a smooth tilt of his body. It is likely occupied, he muses, but then perhaps they could enlighten him on the events. Wasn’t Beqanna once green and lush? He wants to think so, but again, the memories are clouds that he cannot seems to hold onto. This world of death and disease is the only thing he is confident about. This is home, this is life.
His voice is smooth, rolling past his lips like the sweet strum of a harp. There isn’t a sense of urgency, worry, or even aggression. It’s a noise announcing himself while also determining whether this island is plagued as well. When silence ensues, Tiphon isn’t quite sure whether he is concerned or relieved. There is no stench of decay when he breathes in a lungful of air – there is nothing, actually. There is a taste of abandonment that makes his descent more hesitant. He wants to heal, to face this blemish that has claimed Beqanna.
This is where he can begin, he muses, staring across the water’s edge curiously.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
Not even sure if this is claimable, but I guess trying so Tiphon can try healing peeps if they so choose.. plus, he is just oblivious about almost everything lol