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Home » Search » Roster » Whitepages » Records » Guidebook

[SWP] Dark Days
Open Mangrove Tidepools 
i have late night conversations with the moon;

"Then speaking to them is worth a try." I nodded at Kiada and Kyros, after watching both of them manage to have some success using their words. The branches of the trees they'd spoken to seemed to relax their tight holds ever so slightly. Maybe if we all pitched in they'd untangle entirely. Magic, the original solution I'd suggested wouldn't work. For one, I had no magic to use. Second, none of us had magic that could actually help the mangroves. 

Turning toward the nearest mangrove, I began to speak to it in a gentle tone that was still rather singsong-y: 

"I see you weary
But know you are strong,
I’ll sooth your branches
With some song.

I see your life
Still holding on,
And I will help
Don’t fret for long.

Talking to a tree was kind of silly. But if it would save the mangroves from death and mend the Rift, then I would do whatever it took. When I finished what I had to say, I stepped back from the tree, watching it with forward-pricked ears to see whether my words would have any effect on the knots.  


he tells me about the sun
and I tell him about you.

They're enthralled by Rixen's gentle, singsong voice—like the whole stand in front of him holds its breath in a way that is different, their restless tugging and chafing and tightening momentarily put on hold. Only the wind ruffles their leaves and pulls on loose tendrils.

Once his voice fades into silence, the cluster of trees sigh, their branches and roots relaxing, the knots coming undone. The swaying of their green crowns seems to murmur something; is it just imagination, or does it sound a little like the song they were just sung..?

Regardless, there are more trees who are still in need of help.
the Rift
life from death

* Each round is 48 hours (give or take), and has no posting order. If you miss a round, don't worry - just post when you have a chance to! The round is open until Rift Presence posts again.
* New characters are always welcome to join the plot
* If you find the pace too high, let us know, and we'll slow down!
* Posts are encouraged to be 400 words or less.
» Presence of the Rift «

I am unworthy but I will build and break
and destroy and create for you

She watched, eyes flickering from branch to branch as she spoke and the branches seemed to relax. Yet there was still some issue with them being tangled. Luckily for her, as she spoke, Khairi did his best to try and untangle the relaxed branches from strangling one another. After a few moments, she glanced around to see Kyros speaking to another, and watching the one he touched relax. It seemed to be working, and was far faster than forcing them to untangle the branches that had already cut into one another. Sadness bloomed in Kiada’s chest as she spotted the ooze leaking from the tree from where it had been held by the other.

Then, her attention drifted back to Rixen as it usually somehow did. His voice rang out, in a singsong tone as he allowed his voice to caress the Mangroves. Her ears flicked forward, her attention on him and the tree, the cluster of trees seemed to sigh – even the wind that passed through their foliage seemed to repeat the song Rixen had spoke. Curious, she turned her attention back to the cluster she stood by. Did they need to sing to them? She wasn’t much of a singer, honestly, but she’d never truly tried. She remembered the little songs her mother sang to her, ones of stories of her homeland, of Halyven before corruption and chaos descended on the land taking everything with it. She wondered if they’d still work, even being specifically from Halyven, would the ideas still work here so long as she followed the same tune? With a deep breath, she closed her eyes to the cluster of trees she stood in front of as she reached into the deepest parts of her mind.

Perhaps this relates to the troubles you face,
For long ago there was a queen who loved her Kingdom so fierce,
There was nothing that could take it from her.
She was a warrior, a queen, a lover, a mother.

But darkness descended upon her kingdom, a dark oily sheen.
Something that couldn’t be unseen.
And she tried and tried, for many years, to fix the problem.
When finally, after so many years, the willow trees blossomed.

The queen knew it was a sign, a sign that there was something far darker below.
And that’s when the queen finally arose.
She raised herself as blood, steel, and wind.
A fire that couldn’t be put out, for she flew with ivory wings.

She took the blossoms, the sign, to face the darkness that swallowed her home.
And she faced the darkness in the ashes, in the remnants of where her fire roamed.
She took the steel and fought the shadows,
Until all that remained were the field full of willows.

Light returned to her kingdom, to her life.
And she found more love than she could inspire.
Rumor has it the willows still sing,
The battle between fire and demons on the breeze.

She finished the tale, her eyes opening to survey the cluster of trees before her, hopeful that she could see them relax further.


for you, i kneel. for you, anything.
everything, always


She sings a song of Halyven to the cluster of trees before her!

He watched happily as the tress finally untangled themselves. He smiled sadly at them, "I'm sorry you're hurt, maybe I can cover the wounds with some leaves." He looked down at his hooves and saw the spent leaves that had fallen from them. he picked a mouth full up and carefully placed them over the oozing sores pressing them firmly, but gently in place. Once he was satisfied he looked up to see what the others were doing. The stallion seemed to have figured it out as well. His tiny ears pricked forward excitedly to catch his song. When he was finished he smiled brightly as the trees spread apart and swayed. The leaves made a sound, mimicking what the male had just sung to them. His eyes brightened, they were intelligent! He grinned brightly before it turned sad. "Poor things, they must be so scared..."

He sighed heavily blinking quickly trying to keep the tears at bay. He turned as Kiada started to sing as well. He listened intently taking the story to heart. When she had finished he watched her trees for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning to face the whole mangrove not just one bunch. "Maybe if we sing to all of them it'll go faster?" He paused looking between the adults hope blazing in his eyes.

He didn't know any songs, his family had either left him or died before he had been taught anything. He opened his mouth several times knowing what he wanted to sing but a lump had formed in the colts throat. Kyros swallowed hard forcing the lump down. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch the adult's faces.

"You born and left alone.
You watched them all leave,
In more ways than one
Now you are alone and scared.
Hush now dear one,
I will never leave.
I will hold you in my heart,
As they once held you in theirs.
They their flesh is gone,
They are still around.
Hush now dear one,
Let peace fill you like a river.
Hush now dear one..."

He hummed allowing his words to linger in the air. Finally he opened his eyes tears seeping from his black eyes leaving trails over his soft grulla face. He tired not to look at the others but he couldn't help himself. He glanced up meeting their eyes for a minute before looking back at the trees.
Words;; 406
image credits
- table by Niki -
{Image: JMP5vyo.png}
The trees all listen, drinking in the stories of past and present—the songs seep through their bark into their wood, quickening in the sap, and somehow.. everything goes silent; there's just the whisper of the surf on the beach, and the faint repetition of Rixen's song, but the moaning, the slow, sad crying, has been silenced.

As Kiada's voice fades another sigh ripple through the trees, roots and branches untangling, the leaves and the breeze whispering the melody of the Halyven song as a strange backdrop when Kyros adds his thin, youthful voice to their memory.

His song is a sad one, and as he, too, falls silent, the trees take up the rhythm. Like a ripple on a pond the trees release one another, waving gently in the ocean breeze—should you listen for it, you won't hear it, but it's in the spaces between the waves, hidden in the rustling of their leaves. They keep on singing your songs, to themselves, to each other, and as the minutes tick by the air of oppression is lifted, replaced with one of lightness; hope.
the Rift
life from death

Hope has been restored to the Mangrove Tidepools!

* Each round is 48 hours (give or take), and has no posting order. If you miss a round, don't worry - just post when you have a chance to! The round is open until Rift Presence posts again.
* New characters are always welcome to join the plot
* If you find the pace too high, let us know, and we'll slow down!
* Posts are encouraged to be 400 words or less.
» Presence of the Rift «