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Eleos: 4 Rift Force | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Coat :: splattered decoration; a disorganized canvas of obsidian and pearl.
Mane :: inked threads of plenty; lowest juncture shifts from ebony to ivory.
Tail :: bleached.
Eyes :: forsaken of any hue except that of molten gold.
Wings :: a pale arch of powerful feathers, with the primary ends lavished in gold.
Hooves :: pristine gold from sole to core.
Markings :: racing down R/L eye.
Voice :: Soft, tender and warm.
Items ::
A silver inlay, heart shaped charm rests close to his pulse; it lies beneath a gloss of jet-colored hair. The stunted, platinum chain has become woven into the fibers of his hair -- the token isn't easily jolted.
Silken phoenix toy, stuffed with white downy feathers; tied to the stiff quill of Fina's little orange feather.
Guarded :: expressions often appear restrained or understated; his aura is of quiet confidence.
Empathetic :: deep rooted compassion stirs his heart to feel sympathy for the lives of others.
Loyal :: he values kinship, trust and mutual respect.
Our tickers had struck midnight; the sand is poured from an overturned, fractured hourglass. We arrive at the clearing, the fabled end to our plight and tribulation. Life...has come to a head; those faces which raised us, cursed us, loved us...they all become blurred while the veil...nay, the blinders of divinity are removed. What remains for us is the promise of eternity. A pure, shapeless existence, seeping with beauty and unmeasurable peace. We, the vanquished, have no physical form...our souls, wholly constructed of untainted, flawless energy, simply...are.
Mortality has been removed, but our memories remain -- they plead for us revisit our aging graves. However, those roots have been upturned, the emotions that drove our purpose have become quiet. Anger, hate, passion, love, responsibility... naught one could sink teeth into our elated understanding. There is naught sadness, or the fleshy sin of a lonely, lustful heart. We are the elevated guardians; heirs and impoverished, the champions and simpletons. Our wandering, passive gaze is witness to history and those generations who seduce it.
When the damned, war ravaged spirits forsake their morality...the sheer quantity of death lures attention. Patient eyes search, hunting for the familiar faces that's always clung to our everlasting hearts. My gaze turns to the forsaken, bleak mortal plane of existence...the truth of their destruction crashes, pulsing into my core. The flame of concern is stoked...even though the debris of their war couldn't reach paradise...the shock-waves are felt.
Something had gone...gravely wrong....
Drench :: 1173
Nothing is ever certain :: Surprisingly, the vile smog retreats from my groaning, shivering carcass. Those quivering spools are absent their magical threads…but life (mine) still resides in this fleshy, mortal body. One shutter peels apart, narrowing on the retreating shadows and the kaleidoscope world through a sideways perspective....A shape...bobbing, wavering in the sobbing, blue green atmosphere. Once more, my head pushes upward. The pale, ghost-like creature begins to move off. One quivering leg pushes itself beneath me, slipping on the mud and jarring the attempt to make it act like a prop, “w-wa w-wait," the soft, rasp of my voice pleads with that retreating shape. Frail glances circle the wooded grove -- expecting my tormentor to return any moment, "p-please…"
Mad disquietude in a lifeless sky :: Fringes emerge from their dank shelter resentfully and when at last I pull clear of the protrusion and step into the open…A choking lament of disbelief surges from these yawning brims. She (there is no mistaking that pale face and rivaling tinge) is here…ambling in my direction! Apprehension disrupts my melancholy expression and inspires the clammy follicles on my nape to erect. Ears incline warily. The lashing of our previous encounter throbs vulnerably. Sun-stained hollows return to their scabbard, hanging loosely against my sleek waist.
Visions from a past world :: Off to our left, a pale figure soars into view, -though far larger than the grieving birds, the silhouette is dwarfish; a child mayhaps?- obviously part of our species. Honeyed primaries flex, expressing their growing desire to be airborne. "Look there,” though this heart races and concern tints my expression...there is an unmistakable shade of beguilement which becomes outstandingly apparent the longer we stand and gawk, "a child?" That metallic choker throbs warmly, as if sensing my restless...failing logic. The brash suggestion which follows is born from that bewitching aura, “come with me?” there is a hint of desperation spoken in the undertone of said question, but for the moment...I don't recognize it.
Haunting & Healing :: Loved ones...their expressions…those phantoms reform in the soupy mist, the shades which invade our neutrality take a personal approach to their relentless onslaught. A few of the transformed specters might've needled a familiar cord within me with their bleak, pleading suggestions that make them appear as innocent victims of foul play. Nar…throbbing, white hot aggravation builds within my gasping, heaving breast. When their imploring eyes reach for empathy, for compassion – their efforts are met with bristling fur and glistening, yellowish teeth. This soul is hardened to their trickery; these eyes have beheld the glory of the 'true' ethereal world at the end of the clearing.
Reconciliation and wrangling trees :: Cleaved unevenly through the center of himself - the two halves slip apart, squalling like newborns. Each became a separate identity; brothers, dual forces of opposing mentality and morals. One is a hero; the gracious spirit of a man born for democracy and triumph. The other is simply - wrath, hatred. Undiluted bitterness, condensed and midwifed from a lifetime of pain and personal anguish.
Diamond or coal :: “Hile, old mother," in her impossibly long life, she might’ve been a guardian. Not one from our homeland(s) – but still. The corpse stirs my forgotten sense of tradition and honor. Irises glide upward, drifting to follow the maze of empty branches – trying and failing – to imagine her full canopy. Had it been draped with a vibrant, royal blanket of green? My heart squirmed with effort to remember the feel of white, gentle sunlight - teasing, darting glances between those blackened fingers like a virgin lover.
Threadlog 7 threads |
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Active Threads | |||
Subject | Location | Participants | Last Post [ Order By ] |
This character does not have any active threads. | |||
Archived Threads | |||
Subject | Location | Participants | Last Post |
Diamond or coal? | Uwaritace | Eleos, Ranjiri |
05-25-2018 by Eleos |
Buoyant are her golden wings | Solanis | Eleos, Zahra, Rift Presence |
05-24-2018 by Eleos |
Reconciliation and wrangling trees | Siren's Summit | Zahra, Eleos, Rift Presence |
05-19-2018 by Zahra |
» Hauntings & Healings | Green Labyrinth | Rift Presence, Zahra, Tamlin, Volterra, Eleos, Mbwana, Otem, Erebos, Melita, Amaris, Erthë, Vulkán, Oizys, Lyanna, Iskra, Weaver, Kahli, Ki'irha |
08-21-2017 by Iskra |
Mad disquietude in a lifeless sky (part 2) | Riptide Isles | Eleos, Zahra |
08-20-2017 by Eleos |
» Visions from a Past World | Riptide Isles | Rift Presence, Ilunga, Erthë, Amaris, Eleos, Ingrid, Volterra, Oizys, Vulkán, Zahra, Noitcerru, Iskra, Lyanna |
08-09-2017 by Zahra |
Nothing is ever certain (Part 1) | The Portal | Zahra, Eleos, Rift Presence |
07-28-2017 by Eleos |
- One wing is ghostly echo of its former self
- Steal a male Pavo Cat's tail plume.
- Trick another into stepping on the Yenda Puffball.
- Make something pretty
- Teach a stranger something new.
- Befriend a Tarnik until it will follow you, and then feed it to a Rift Deer
- Coerce another to steal.
- N/A