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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook
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Open Floating Key 
Melita
Currently championing:
#1
The honeybee girl was caught and enticed by unspoken snares, and she brewed in its cauldron of enigmas and silence, because she should’ve feared the unknown. Apprehension should’ve been there, curled and coiled in her barrel, twisting through her veins, collecting in her sentiments. It had been there in her more fragile, feeble days, when the world was so much more confusing, unreal, intangible pockets of gaping maws and grandiose mouths (then death; so much death, so many figures never returning). She’d learned in her brief time amidst the pillars of destruction and ruin, how to thrive, how to play, how to unfurl her wings and cascade across realms and empires, explored, sojourned, absorbed, and now the only thing residing seemed to be a brilliant wonder (her mother was within too – visions of kindness and brilliant, beautiful gold and ivory wings) poised and aloft, fluttering on her heart. Curiosity fed into her soul, tied her up in knots until all she could do was feast her eyes on the wide world in front of her, and despite its lack of draconic sand or tumbling dunes, there was enough to keep her steadily occupied. It spurred her on, contorted, smothered, and seized, until the only thing she felt she could do was run, dash across the wind, soar into the soulless piers and the endless haze; pondering when the fog would lift, when rapture would be restored (what was out there?) The boldness, the audacity, the wild, savage temperament once infused and embodied through her core came spilling out in quick, subtle movements – she’d peek from a cluster of bushes, spy past the leaves, the bulrushes, the reeds, then slide out into the open. Sila would follow suit, sparking and rushing, and together they were a force of youthful energy and zest, an ardency fueled by inquiry and freedom. She had no notions, no ideas, of what the realm had to offer, but if she never ventured into its depths, then there’d truly be nothing, and she simply couldn’t exist in such a void.
 
Her chosen setting reminded her greatly of the Dragon’s Throat – likely why she’d come, entranced by the promises of something she used to know, used to embody, used to crave – with its sweeping layers of sand and silt. But while the Throat’s oasis had an ending, spilling out into more land, more rubble, more rocks, this seemed incredibly everlasting – incandescent, beautiful, and the pair drifted on the shoreline, basking in the newness, in the foreign entities, in the sounds of wildlife basking along the trees, and the sweet smelling fruits wafting from the jungle. Instead of diverting into the beckoning copses and groves, because Sila kept sending her alarming messages of danger, and Melita could fathom that notion; she’d sensed too much before, they wandered along the beach, breathing in the sea air. Swiftly, born from impulse and compulsions, whimsical desires never buried farther than her heart, the girl dove into the water and splashed, loud, a fractious memory of days where she’d become a monster from the fathoms below – teasing, silly, hours she craved that were merely lost by the hands of time, by the sweeping of fate. Sila, all bird and electricity, chose a rock to settle upon in the heat of the day, streamlined to enjoy the warmth on her gilded feathers; but Melita was an arch of cascading droplets and flying hooves, extended wings drumming against the current, ridiculous and amused.

Melita
diamond in the flesh
art | codes

@Anuya
Anuya
Currently championing:
#2

For the most part, Anuya was following her sister’s suggestions to leave the newcomers alone.

For the most part.

But she couldn’t shut down her curiosity entirely. The few interactions she had only intensified her desire to learn as much as she could about as many as she could.

They were no longer confined to the area around the portal that had transported them into this land but instead had branched out and were wandering freely. A fact that bothered Anuya a little - what if they were to wander blindly into the night forest of the fae? They wouldn’t get out alive… which would be all too bad for some, such as the young filly that was playing in the water along the Key’s shore.

Anuya watched her from further down the beach, intending to approach but taking her time about it. Her long ears were flicked forward and her shining eyes watched the filly. So many of these strangers had wings! Did they need wings to travel across the land they came from? Was it nothing but islands and cliffs that stranded anyone that relied on hooves?

Very few of Anuya’s kind had wings and it had never been something that bothered the starry girl until recently - and it only bothered her now because the portal that dumped all these strangers into the Rift had stolen her ability to shapeshift and the wings her other form gave her.

Anuya wished to join in the antics of the filly but worried that her approach would cause the game to stop so she only trotted along the shore line - her hooves splashing when the waves rolled up the sand - and whinnied a cautious hello to the girl. Approximately fifty questions flashed into her head at once but a simple greeting beat them all out first. “HI! I’m Anuya!”


Pesky Pixie


WHAT'S THIS? A POST?
@Melita
Melita
Currently championing:
#3
She was symphony of sounds, motions, and movements – embracing her prior tunes from Helovia, resounding in a cacophony of loud, boisterous noise, hooting in delight, laughing, chuckling, as the water cascaded in rough, raw waves. It made her feel powerful again, to watch the current change course for the barest of moments because she caused it, because she wanted it to alter, morph, in each abrupt sway. Her hooves crashed against the surface and it was a silly, illustrious opus, her incoming storm were a small flurry of showers, and when she opened her wings and fluffed her feathers into the sea, it was magnificent and mesmerizing. She forgot what the entire point of her sojourn had been, which crusade she’d been on, who she should’ve been looking for, or if danger lurked between these anarchic corners; only christening the realm with her amusement, her exhilaration, and her ebullience.
 
Sila pressed into her mind suddenly, swiftly, bluntly, but she was too absorbed in her play and diversion to think much of it – there were too many actions to explore, too many ways water could move, shift, and fly, and only on an echo of laughter did she hear the stranger’s voice bounding across the ripples.
 
The greeting stilled her ridiculous, frenzied movements to nothing but a quick turn of her head, a widening of her gaze, a foolish gasp shuttering from her throat. She said nothing at first, an intrepid, imprudent babe nestled, caught in the touch of the sea, in the salty brine of the ocean, with no protection, with no shelter, with no sanctuary. Her eyes darted first to Sila, the golden edges of the zephyr’s wings hovering along the sands, then swept her stare back to the newcomer. “Hi,” a timid juncture floated out from her lips first, like she feared the worst (because she’d known the worst), muffling her greetings as she studied her more. Her ears were the first things of note, long, much lengthier than she’d ever seen (did that mean she had better hearing? Could she catch every sound for miles?), and then her frame – because she was coated in stars; blankets and pockets of galaxies, of constellations, of the shimmering brilliance on a clear evening. So the honeybee child loosened the breath she’d been holding, sang a light hum beneath her whims, and prayed, fervently, that she could trust another etched in the horizon’s most splendid of hues. “I’m Melita.” Then she had a series of inquiries sculpt their way into her mind (where do you live? Do you know anything about this place? What’s it called? Have you seen my mother?), and only one – because perhaps there she could make a stand – managed to coax its way from her chest, from her soul, from her heart. “Would you like to play with me?”


Melita
diamond in the flesh
art | codes

@Anuya