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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » FAQ » Guidebook
» Lost & Found
Open Solanis 
Kisamoa
Currently championing:
#11
Kisamoa was not certain anyone would heed his call, unaided as it was by the compelling force of his own peculiar magics. It had always been so easy to simply demand they attend him, force them to listen to his voice as he.. what? Told them to go save his land? He'd asked them to explore, sure they'd find something to love, to grow fond of, yet they had only drifted, and been pushed back by the shadows. Repulsed, even.

Force had gotten him nowhere. He knew now that most of them loathed, or feared, him. His natives were uncertain of him; he was the remnant of their stolen gods, yes, but what was he? What was his agenda?

He was uncertain of himself.

The first to come was one of the Helovian children, watching him with bold eyes, yet smelling of fear. Next, the dragon-stranger, protectively curving his wings around the girl, speaking to her yet watching him; Kisamoa's ugly jaw shifted, sharp, mismatched teeth poking out in a mockery of an unintentional grin. The tone of voice, the protective stance, the keen gaze, it all spoke a plain language, one of distrust and doubt.

He knew of the strangers who had arrived, of course; he had seen them all. Taivas, the shaman, arrived next, mustering enough courage to ask him if he needed help. Kisamoa's malformed face showed something akin to surprise, his cervine body shifting slightly. It was the first time he had, in such clear terms, been offered aid, and it reminded him of the constant aching throb of the gods chewing their way into his skin.

"There is nothing you can do for me," he told the girl sadly, noticing the stallion who hung back, and the startled black one that descended to stand next to the kind shaman. Kiada came next, brazenly stepping in front of the crowd, and smiling at him. Spurred on by his glowing companion ball of light, he offered her a tentative, ghoulish smile. "Thank you, Kiada," he mumbled, watching her withdraw to the others.

K'yarie—one of the Natives—seeped out of the shadows, a little bit of night crawling into the day. She stood, for the most part, alone, yet chose to acknowledge all of those gathered. She spoke up, and Kisamoa inclined his head. "Soon I will tell you," he rumbled, "for more are coming." Both of them hung back on the edges, though Otem chose to stand a little closer. Fond of her as he was, Kisamoa swiveled his head to look at her, trying to catch her eye, as if it could somehow convey his gratitude of her still being around. Perhaps he did not deserve the loyalty of her and Kiada, but he was grateful for having what little slivers of it that he did.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and listened. The most immediate surroundings were quiet; if more were coming, they would be late, but he figured he could forgive them for such a thing.

His dark eyes opened again, and his jaws parted, revealing a mess of fangs, some of them glowing green, but he hesitated. What does one say? How do you build anything, fix anything?

"Thank you all for coming," he began, haltingly, trying the words out. They felt wrong in his mouth, but he was swimming in uncharted waters, and they were all he had. Screaming at them didn't seem very.. hope-inspiring. "I.. have.. made mistakes," he forced past his bleeding lips, "and I'd like to, hrm."

He was not made to hold kindness and consideration in his mouth. He was made to avenge, to dominate, to destroy. Frustrated, he touched his soft nose to the ball of pleasant light, only to have it scatter into ten smaller ones. Surprised, his eyes narrowed at it.

".. our world is dying," he finally said, a bit of uncompromising truth. "But I have found hope. I want to share it with you. I want you to share it with the land, with each other, with anyone else you may come across." He nudged one of the balls, and nine of the ten drifted away from him—one to each of them. The tenth clung stubbornly to his own shadow. Oddly touched, the creature of darkness swept his gaze over those gathered.

"Go in good company, bring the light with you where you go. Perhaps together, we can—" He paused for a moment as his jaw rearranged itself, and to cool the burning on his tongue from the words he spoke. "—we can save this place."
beauty in darkness
kaos in light

Everyone has been given an item!
Piece of Hope
A fist-sized ball of pleasant light, giving hope and light to whomever has it. Infinitely split-able. Mitigates the harmful and violent effects of the Rift.

Any attempts to steal or forcibly take a Piece of Hope will simply cause it to split, giving Hope to all involved. :)

In more OOC terms, Kisamoa is specifically asking you to go in small groups, bringing Hope to the lands! If you meet anyone without a Piece of Hope, you are encouraged to see if yours will split, and offer Hope to everyone. Please log your Hope-specific group outings in your SWP tracker and post in Maintenance if you share your Hope with someone!

You are still allowed to join the thread, even if you did not post in the first round.

You are welcome to leave and/or remain to mingle and/or ask questions of Kis. You don't have to adhere to the posting order. Kis's next post will be on the 30th, or earlier if all current participants have gotten theirs in. :)
.. and kaos opened up its eyes
Otem the Hopebringer
Currently championing:
#12
otem
Can we go back before the morning took you?
And every dream of you was gone



Kisamoa's honesty took Otem by surprise. Whatever she took him for, openly self-criticizing was not part of it. Silently the dust-dappled girl waited for the power and arrogant confidence she associated with the mongrel-deity, but it never came. There wasn't much time to dwell on this fact, for as the small ball of light wafted towards Otem her budding skepticism of Kisamoa was instantly pushed out.

For the first time in a long time Otem felt excited.

Here was something she could actually do. A tangible goal and purpose! How would bringing balls of light to those not gathered at the meeting make a difference? Didn't matter. What were the balls of light? Didn't matter. Did Kisamoa actually have a plan, or couldn't this just be some fools errand to keep them busy while the mutated god continued his steady trek towards self annihilation? Didn't matter.

Thank you. Otem thought towards Kisamoa. This was a new skill she'd recently learned after her battle with the Magnus Metus, and for as secretive as Otem could be, she rather liked being able to communicate in this silent telepathic way. 

Image Credits

You may always use magic/force on/against Otem.
Explorer Kiada
Currently championing: Vjanta
#13
KIADA
your battle-worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;

There was a part of her that felt honored by the strange smile Kisamoa offered her. It was something she put away, in the back of her mind and her soul as another thing to add to her collection of memories of this place and him. As she moved and found her spot, she watched silently as others joined and Kisamoa began to speak. Khairi, perched carefully on his favorite spot on her withers, watched the events unfold with his bright scarlet eyes. Kiada’s eyes remained on Kisamoa, however, watching as he closed his eyes and stood there.

Surprise laced its way through her chest as he thanked them. Her bright eyes softened as she looked to Kisamoa, offering encouragement in any way she could. She had to imagine it was hard for him to speak like this when he seemed so used to pushing people into doing things for them. And as he continued to explain how he had made mistakes, she kept her attention glued to him – unwavering, waiting for the end to see what they needed to do to help him (provided they could). She eyed the glowing orb beside him in between his bursts of speech.

When he touched the orb, it began to split. Khairi crooned a curious sound toward it, watching as it continued to hover beside the god. Her eyes danced to them and back to Kisamoa as he spoke of the world dying and the orb he had found was hope, and ever so slowly the hope began to grow in her chest. She found a small smile creasing the corners of her lips as the light drifted toward her, to hover beside her as well. She stood tall, her tail swishing eagerly against her spotted rump while Khairi stared at the orb continuously.

Thank you, Kis.” She murmured to him, glancing over to Roscorro before looking to Khairi with a grin.

"Talk."

and you wonder why he lets you, (the butcher),
touch him, (the sun)



img


EE shes so stoked

TROY FALLS A THOUSAND TIMES,
IN EVERY DREAM I DREAM.
(LIKE ASHES, LIKE ASHES,
LIKE A STAR BURNING OUT.)
Raein
Currently championing:
#14
as the sun set on another, you fell through dying dreams
It speaks.

The voice is harsher than the one in my mind, but it is familiar enough for me to recognize this creature as the original speaker. A part of me wishes that he were not the owner of that gentle, hopeful tone in my mind which lured me here. Another part accepts him for what he clearly is.

Some sort of god or demon, a power in this land which is now my home.

Appearing beside me is the youthful form of Otem, and I briefly smile in her direction. I am glad to see her well and whole in this realm. Her face appears determined, moreso than it had been during our first meeting. I wonder if my unsolicited lecture had pierced through to the courage laying beneath the surface of her heart. I hoped so.

I could not gather her companions near to her, after all, having never known the world she lost. It was a task she would have to complete on her own.

When the last trickle of others arrive, the deranged looking god begins to speak, addressing the glimmering ball of light hovering before him. The ball shattered and split into small fragments of light, and I watch, entranced, as a single tongue of ethereal light soars its way over to me. It swerves about my face before resting upon the scar on my shoulder, both breaking my heart and filling it with hope simultaneously as I feel a peaceful warm on my flesh.

My lips contort into an ugly expression of grief, ever so briefly, before I swallow the emotion back hard enough to bring focus back to his instructions.

Bring hope to others?
Me?
He must be joking.

But, then again...
I glance over at Otem's calm expression.

Maybe, I can manage.
""
Raein
K'yarie the Hopebringer
Currently championing:
#15
K'yarie
She gave a gracious nod of her head when he addressed her. She listened intently as the horrific looking being before her spoke. Her eyes even softened as each word dripped from his mouth like the black blood upon his lips. Her own gaze drifted towards the ball of light that Kisamoa had brought with him. Her ears perking in curiosity when it split. Head cocking she watched as one of the pieces drifted towards her. Seeing as none of the others had died upon contact, she stretched her own nose out to touch the light.

A comforting warmth flooded through her body, causing her to pull away in surprise. Giving a sheepish smile she glanced around to see if anyone had seen her before taking a step closer to her little orb. She touched it again, drawing it closer to her as that warmth filled her. It eased her soul and fought away the darkness that had seeped into her heart. This strange light was far more valuable than any gold or land. It was a precious gift she would cherish, though she still was not sure she trusted the being who had bestowed it upon her. Not just yet.

But she could look passed his previous actions and rough exterior, for now. He was striving to do good. To save their dying land. And he had asked for their help. She resisted the urge to smile in amusement. He had asked for her help. But was she really a beast worthy to carry out this odd mission. Her first instinct was to hoard this item for herself. The joy and comfort it brought her was priceless. But would it perish if she held onto it without sharing? Was she so selfish that she wouldn't share with others in need? This little ball of light was supposed to save her world. How, she was not sure. But hope was indeed a powerful thing. Maybe, just maybe it would indeed heal her home. If so they maybe she could go out and share it with others. Crazier things had happened within the rift. "Thank you." She uttered, offering a bow to Kaos. Straightening she tarried, just in case there were further instructions to be given.


talk talk talk talk
Fear not this Night.
You will not go Astray
Though shadoes fall, still the Stars find their way
image credit to Achiha-Azteca.
Ruwin the Hopebringer
Currently championing:
#16
Ruwin
The strange little light bobbed before his nose and the stallion had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be leaving him alone anytime soon. He eyed it suspiciously, still untrusting of the god that had just offered it to him. As a rule Watcher did not trust beings with so much power. They tended to get far to high and mighty for his taste. But this one had come down off of his throne and offered a form of an apology. As forced as it was. Snorting the native gave another glance at Kaos before investigating his own piece of hope. The sensation that flooded his soul upon contact with the light took his breath away. A light of warmth, comfort, hope that he had not felt in so long shot through his body. His face fell as a single tear slid down one cheek as the pain and grief he had experienced in his life came to the surface.

He twisted his head away, fiddling with a buckled on his harness to hide the emotion in his face. Once in control once more her straightened, catching the god's words as he did. Share this light with others. He did not want to be in the presence of others, let alone share anything with them. But this had been the request of the horrific god who claimed that this would save their world. Seeing as he happened to live within this world, Ruwin thought it would be in his best interest to help save it. If he bumped into some random sod in his travels, he'd share a bit of this light with them before leaving. Words didn't need to be exchanged, though it would most likely come as a shock to the giftie when he dumped a glowing ball of light at their feet before leaving. That wasn't his problem, his job wasn't to explain to the others about this ball. Let them figure it out.

talk talk talk talk
Hiding below my shadow yet dancing above my fears
I grip sorrow's edge as you crumble to fall at my soul's tears
I have not forgotten you,
but sometimes I cannot help feeling numb
image credit to jason-samfield @ flickr.com
Taivas the Hopebringer
Currently championing: Reszo
#17
There is nothing you can do for me.

The sadness in his voice radiates in her own heart, and Taivas takes a long, solemn moment to look at the way the spine eats into his flesh.  She closes her dark, starlit eyes and nods, accepting his words as the truth.  Perhaps, if she had the same strength in her connection to the spirits of the Rift as she had in the Fields, she would be able to lend more aid.  However, here she started back as an inept student - something that hurt her pride quite a lot.

Her skills had been nutured quickly, but now she wondered if her gifts with the Spirits were only due to the strength of her parents' connections with them.  Now, in a new world under unfamiliar stars and spirits, she needed to forge her own path and learn to connect with them on her own.

That moment of insecurity is washed away when the rustle of grass beside her causes an ear to tilt sideways, the breathing pattern beside her familiar.  Shocked, Taivas opens her eyes and swerves her head rather indelicately to look upon the now upright and more-or-less healthy figure of Waker.  Her estimation that he was, in fact, taller than she was correct.  His figure also held more healthy muscle tone than her own, suggesting his past few months or years had been spent under physical duress.

Taivas remembered the exhaustion that wracked his body just as roughly as the cold, and she wondered to herself what could possibly have been important enough to push yourself to that extent.
In her mind, she came to only one answer:  family.

"You are well?" she asks her first official patient of the Rift, eyes already busy scanning him with cold precision for injury or undernourishment.  She finds nothing, though he still appears wary to her.

Then, a girl pushes past the line before the strange, mangled god to stand before him.  While Taivas had been more courageous than most to address him directly, this girl showed no fear or hesitation.  Frankly, her attitude set the shaman's heart at ease, convincing her that the shadow before them was likable.

After the rest had trickled into the meeting, the strange god took time to explain his call to them.  Taivas's brow knits in strange worry, but otherwise her expression remains calm and placid.  Our world is dying. Dying.  More disconcerting was the fact her addressed it as "our world", implying it was the home of everyone here... ever herself.

There is no returning, then, she wonders to herself, almost missing his bequeathing of the strange ball of light beside him.  The light dances in front of her eyes, drawing her full attention for a moment and a dry smile to her face.  "Hello, little one," she speaks to the ball of hope, extending a curved wing toward it in the air.  She touches the fragile light and feels a comforting glow build in her heart.

Contented immediately despite the jarring notion she lived here, Taivas lets out a small, feminine sigh.

Perhaps together, we can save this place.

"Okay," she responds, looking at the odd conglomeration of a creature before her.  "Thank you."
So seize the day 'Cause you have come so far
Watched a million frowns turn into smiles
Lost all track of time Felt the energy of a million stars
You'll feel love again after the rain
Taivas


[ ooc - Asks @Waker if he is alright.
Talks to the little ball of hope.
Tells Kisamoa thank you. ]
Waker
Currently championing:
#18
WAKER
You don't even know the name of the place you've ended up in, but you've learned one thing, and it's mind-blowing—your normal isn't, necessarily, anybody else's normal. You've got nubby little horns hidden in your storm-blown mane, you're dipped in blue, you have fangs, you have wings. None of this is strange to you. Everyone has fangs. Everyone has wings. Right? Actually, no, because some of those gathered have no wings, and you're stifling the urge to ask Taivas to gape as wide as she can, just so you can look into her mouth.

The wailers didn't have wings, so the lack of them on some of those gathered isn't shocking, really. No, what's gotten to you is the idea of any one of those living here—whether it's Taivas or the monstrous creature summoning them—coming to your homeland and saying what the hell is this weird shit?.

"I am," you respond, distracted, when Taivas prompts you. "Thanks to you," you add after a moment, and only your distraction keeps it from being the cheesiest thing you've said all year. Just imagine how bad it would've sounded had you looked at her intently, batted your lashes, crooned it at her.

Instead, you're too busy thinking of the shadow-beast striding across your rain-slick plains, leaving a trail of filthy blood in his wake.

A girl, the strangest mix of black and gold and white you've ever seen, steps in front of everyone. You don't quite catch what she says, but it seems she knows the creature, for she greets it with a kind of fondness—it's evident in her expression, the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her ears. Mystified, you let your eyes linger on her as she approaches the dragon-stallion (another of those things that are terribly out of place to your sense of what's possible and not, but no one else seems baffled by him). She drifts away, and your attention with her, as another bizarre creation strides onto the scene. She's to the point, naming the ever-shifting thing Kisamoa, and you frown slightly. Kisamoa? It sounds very tame.

Kisamoa responds, in a voice so at odds with the one he had called them with—you almost recoil from the sound coming from his malformed jaws, your ears flicking uncertainly upon your head. How is this thing possible? What is he made from? You almost don't want to know.

Silence lingers again, like they're all straining to catch something, but whatever it is, it's not there, and maybe it wasn't meant to. Kisamoa begins to speak. Despite your doubts and uncertainties and homesickness, you listen, enthralled.

Honestly, you can't be anything but charmed by the grotesque thing with the gentle mind-voice and halting, uncertain words. You figure he has to be in constant pain, or else bizarrely powerful to be held together with such magic, but he seemed just a huge, lost monster. You almost want to hug him, to tell him it'll be alright, we'll find a way.

It's not the southern rampart, but it needs saving, so you'll damn well save it.

You and your.. little ball of hope, suddenly hovering contentedly by your shoulder, bathing your heart in soothing light and the idea of tomorrows. And, you tentatively think, your friends. You and your little ball of hope, and your friends. You don't know the name of anyone but Taivas, who joins in the murmured chorus of thanks.

You don't feel like thanking him. You're not sure what you'd be thanking him for if you did, either. For the hope? The, what seems like, painful honesty? The 'here, take this thing and now save my world' thing? You open your jaws slightly, shifting them so you feel the comforting press of your fangs sliding against each other.

You want to touch him.

It's a bad idea.

So you don't. "Okay," you say, feeling loud and brash and like a lightning bolt in the soft rain of the others, "we'll fix this place. Somehow. We will."

I'm a healer. That's what I do. I fix shit. I fix sometimes impossibly broken shit. You look at Kisamoa, and wonder yet again if there's any fixing him.
Roscorro the Dragon Heart
Currently championing: Caevoc
#19
ROSCORRO
Could he really judge another for how they looked? No. it was not the creature's horrific visage that caused the stallion to distrust the being before him. It was the way Gwyn had reacted to him, like she knew this person and he terrified her. This was what caused him to look upon the god of this world with a wary gaze, uncertain of what was to come. Others gathered around them. His gave a smile of greeting to Taivas upon her arrival. That smile softened when she sought to aid this unknown equine, could one call him that? He did not recognize many of the others that appeared, though he did not look far once one particular horse entered the scene. He watched Kiada, now far more fearful of her than the one who had called them here. His first instinct was the run, to get out of here before she saw him. It was what he had promised her on that day. Now he was breaking that promise and he feared that she would kill him for it. But he couldn't leave, torn between the promise to stay away from the mare and the stay with Gwyn. He chose the later. He could not leave the filly alone with her fear. He was certain Kiada would not lash out in the middle of the meeting, which should give him enough time to ask Taivas if she would be willing to look after his little charge and help her find her parents. Though he hated to ask, he feared he might not make it back to the young filly come the morrow.

His gaze never left Kaida's form as she approached their host and pledged her loyalty. She served to confirm to the stallion that this was indeed Kisamoa, the destroyer of Helovia. The god of the Rift. He allowed his eyes to drift towards Kaos. Kaida moved and they snapped back to her. She was coming towards him! Was she intending to lash out at him in front of everyone? Fear seeped into his soul at the thought. But there was no anger shadowing the mare's countenance. She even offered him a smile, as sad as it was. Her words surprised him, rendering him speechless. She wanted to apologize? What did she have to apologize for? The wrong had been his and his alone. To him her actions were justified. So why? He knew he would not being able to understand, so he merely accepted this fact with a quiet gratitude. He gave a nod to her, swallowing back the emotions that threatened to boil over. A new light of hope began to flicker in his heart. Hope that he might be able to make amends for his actions after all.

Kisamoa began talking and the stallion had to force himself to look away from where Kaida was standing now to focus on the god. The large tribrid listened intently, quickly enraptured by the god's words as he ventured to apologize and then asked for their help. Like the others his eyes were quickly captured by the large glowing orb that Kaos had brought with him. Hope. This was what he had called it. It fractured into pieces at his touch. One fragment drifted towards the large Clydesdale. He reached out curiously towards the ball of light. Upon its touch the small ember of hope exploded within him. Somewhere deep inside him he could feel the darkness that taunted him scream in fury as the light filled him with warmth. The sensation that touched his heart was indescribable. Closing his eyes he cherished the feeling, lost in its light. Voices brought him back as others offered their thanks to the god. "This is a truly precious gift." he said in soft tones, his head bowing in gratitude. "Thank you." He caught Kaida's glance his way and offered a wane smile, still unsure of where they stood, but hopeful.


"Talk."

But You Cannot Break My Hope!
I'm Still Undefeated!
image || coding
You have my permission to use magic/force against Roscorro.
Maiming and killing is not allowed, though. 
Kisamoa
Currently championing:
#20
He could spend however long the Rift had left being a recalcitrant, cruel bastard, pulling on strings and going nowhere—he could cast around for the poised, calm confidence he'd felt in Helovia, fueled by certainty, purpose, power, and held back by nothing.

But neither of those things had saved the Rift.

Vjanta's command rested in the seas; Reszo's wisdom hid in the mists; Caevoc's patience slept in the flats. He only had the remnants of the bear, and among Vourib's more prominent strengths lay truth. And yet, blaming today's adventure in hope-giving and kindness on the bear felt like confirming his own lack of existence.

As the split balls of hope went to those gathered, they all surprised him. He wasn't sure what he had expected—businesslike attitudes, doubt, questions, not.. not a chorus of thank yous, like he had given them something great, to be cherished. His dark eyes skipped from Otem to Kiada to K'yarie, to Taivas, to Waker, who didn't say thanks but just blabbered, and at last, to Roscorro.

Nothing else happened. Kisamoa frowned slightly, and shifted his weight between his aching legs. The seconds stretched, and his frown became a scowl. "I told you to go," he muttered, the surly words like a cool blessing in his mouth. He was suddenly reminded of the last time he'd been around, when he had yelled at them all and disappeared—it was tempting to smooth over today's things with a similar exit.

He sighed. The truth of things was that he needed their help, and if today was anything to go by, a few of them were willing to offer it of their own volition. Perhaps, when freely given, it would ring truer, amount to more. He didn't know how help worked.

But he was done here. He had delivered what he had come to deliver. His black eyes swept across those gathered once more. "Thanks," he mirrored back at them, unsure of if it was sarcastic or heartfelt—how do you know when you're being sincere, anyway? He shook his head, turned, and disappeared into the shadows.
beauty in darkness
kaos in light

Kisamoa out, feel free to wrap up for your characters. It'll be archived in a few weeks. :)

This does not count as meeting Kisamoa. As for meeting others:
* Other character must post at least twice - if thread has more than five participants, you need to have an acknowledged interaction with the other in order to claim for meeting them
.. and kaos opened up its eyes