Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2018 13:20:07 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Vagabond Plot 604: Wordsmith Gathering Team Leader: Persephone Participants: Falk, Seeker, Cecilia, Abel, Sinarin, Shiann, Florian Please keep the following in mind!- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum!- No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's.- No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway)
- Always get consent before harming another character!- Your team is precious. Try to interact with everyone. <3- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'DPrompt: The Wordsmith Gathering occurs annually at the Point in Sirith, to commemorate the coming summer. What once began as an opportunity for Bards to share stories has become a week-long celebration for travelers of all paths; it is the perfect chance to meet others from faraway lands, trade goods and stories, drink with friends old and new and, of course, listen to the Bards work their magic. You've come to the Gathering for reasons that are your own (perhaps you're here to perform, to make some sales, or find a nice fat purse to steal) and are immediately enveloped by the joyous atmosphere. The winter was hard, people are saying, it's good to finally relax. The crowd around you is sprinkled with strange faces -- foreigners, hybrids, even a kirin or two -- but no one seems to pay any mind. This is a celebration of outcasts, gathered in song. You find yourself joining a circle of revelers, listening to a young bard play a pan flute. Persephone's music is light and lively to match the occasion, and you feel the exhaustion of your journey begin to melt away. The troubles you have brought with you to the Point can wait -- this is a party! Location: The Point Time of Day: Almost sunset Current Weather: Clear, warm, beautiful brightly-colored sky You do not have to wait for your leader to post!
|
|
|
|
Post by MapleEgg on Jul 1, 2018 16:41:34 GMT -6
↤↤↤↤↤↫ ֆɛɛӄɛʀ ↬↦↦↦↦↦
vαgαвση∂ | ωαη∂εяεя
The music drifting across the air of The Point was so enticing to the slightly intoxicated Seeker. She grinned to herself as she moved closer, noticing a group of festival goers obviously appreciating the music. She wasn't drunk, no but she had indulged in a few drinks with a small group of horses moments ago. That was before the music. The music that was tickling her ears and sounded so sweet. It had been some time since she had such a light heart and Seeker was going to live every moment of it. She closed her main eyes, keeping the one in the center of her forehead open and filled in gaps as horses came and went from the bard but as she neared closer she quickly looked forward in full attention. It was Persephone. Seeker heart quickened for a moment but she was surrounded by others. Surly their cursed luck would not follow them here. Plus for all she knew it was only her and Persephone here.
Struck by a thought, Seeker hurriedly scanned the see-able crowd around her. If fate played with her as it seemed enthralled to do oh so very often, Shiann.... Shiann could be here. She had hunted and hunted for her dear Shiann after the fierce storm had separated them but it had been for naught. She had not found her dearest Shiann. The music continued to melt into Seeker's bones and calm the rolling thoughts in her head. There was a large gathering, if it had brought Shiann here she would find her. Her gut told her just that and for the moment she fell back into relaxation as Persphone played on. Seeker stood fairly out in the open, wanting her friend to see her but taking in how talented they were as well. Excitement grew as she longed to see how her friend was fairing, so she decided she would wait for them. This was a party, she had told herself she was going to enjoy it and damn it, she would do just that!
Word Count : 343
Post # 1 |
|
|
|
Post by foalish on Jul 1, 2018 17:04:42 GMT -6
C E C I L I A
❅ Vagabond | Outsider ❅
She understood little of happened anymore; but that wasn’t anything new. There was a lot of following, a lot of lost footsteps. Their group eventually started talk about a gathering. Something about words. She didn’t care at first, there was little to words from them that she cared about - she only bothered to listen to Abel most of the time. But when things got clearer - of a gathering of all sorts of different people, he interest perked a little. Especially at the thought of strangers.
She wasn’t hopeful for much, she often didn’t like to be around those she didn’t know, but when accompanied by song, voices and stories, she could open up a bit more. Perhaps she’d learn more about herself and the things around her that she craved to know, that no one in the small circle of travelling partners seemed to be able or willing to answer.
She didn’t dwell on it too much, not even being phased when her and Abel were left to their own devices, as usual. She kept little eye on him and whatever he wanted to do, instead, trotting up to a small circle of horses already gathered around someone playing an instrument she didn’t know the name of, but enjoyed the sound of instantly. She happily folded her legs and listened along with the horses around her; ignoring any sense of discomfort they’d naturally give, in lieu to enjoy herself instead. Perhaps she was out of place, but she didn’t quite think about that yet.
|
|
|
|
Post by galekxy on Jul 1, 2018 21:18:13 GMT -6
A B E L
Vagabond Bard
... ...
He was... excited. Excited might be an understatement, but needless to say- Abel was excited. He had been to the Wordsmith Gathering numerous of times, but this one seemed different- special. This time he had someone to share it with. Usually his family would let him wander alone and meet the others that came, but that was only fun for a certain amount of time. Eventually he would grow bored and lonely. But now- now there was Cecilia. He wanted to show her everything, and this was something that was his. It was part of his background and culture, and he hoped that she enjoyed it as much as he did.
It was always so interested being here. There were so many more horses than Abel was accustomed to seeing, and they were all here for the same thing. The young horse had never really made any concrete friends here, and so he had no one to look for. Right now he simply looked around for anything that might be interesting to go and listen to. But then suddenly Ce pushed forward to a small group of horses gathered around. He could hear the music coming from them, and he readily followed Cecilia over, settling himself down next to her.
He wanted to keep looking at Cecilia, expectation filling his eyes. Abel wanted to know what Ce thought of this all. In a way he wanted to impress her with his life, and he hoped that those around him would do so. He still had the song he had been working on, but he had been nervous to show it to her- it had to be perfect and it just wasn't yet. Maybe this gathering would give him the courage to show Ce it.
... ... Word Count: 294 Post 1 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 3, 2018 6:11:40 GMT -6
Falk - Vagabond - Peddler
“Think about it.” Falk gives an easy smile to the woman in front of him, the crows feet at his eyes wrinkling as he does. “I’ll be here all night.”
She has the decency to give a polite nod before leaves, the sampler of wine still held by a rose-pink teke, and Falk instinctively knows it’s probably not a sale. The second she turns her back his smile is gone. It’s usually the price of the wine that tends to push them right out of the conversation, but dropping the magic word that was exclusive tends to draw them right back in. He’s brought a small wine batch with him that was just smuggled over the border by the mess of a ranger that Gil associated with. There’s an offhand thought in his head that wonders how his old is doing when he sips the wine and
Oh, this is good. Mental note to bring a leftover bottle back to Jocelyn.
He looks into the crowd that’s all around him, a cozy bustle with good atmosphere. There’s a growing enthusiasm that’s coming to a crescendo, the sound of a flute accompanied with singing voices and consistent chatter. It’s an energy that feels remarkably alive. He just wishes he wasn’t alone here.
Another sip. His head buzzes. Above him the cloudless sky bruises orange and red. The good spirit is a thing he could grab and it shows on their faces, it's carried in their voices. Falk is here for pleasure and he’s here for business, but his business is pleasure and this is a good place to both indulge and make money on the side that he’ll spend here if he’s not careful. He joins a crowd that’s listening to a bard, casually sitting by them without particular introduction.
“You’re very good.” he says to Persephone, the comment both to her and to himself, thoughts carried for miles.
WC: 318| Post #1
|
|
|
|
Post by Dream-Lark on Jul 3, 2018 12:13:23 GMT -6
It was almost sunset, where gorgeous colors would paint sky, the day was lovely and bright, and the company was oh so good. The thief found himself humming gently, along to a tune carried on the wind as he moved amongst the crowd, winking and smiling his way past equines. Occasionally he'd nip an accessory here or there from someone a little too drunk, stashing it in his saddlebags for later reselling purposes.
Oh yes, it was most definitely a fine day, and what a party! It had started with an excellent journey here with Aurora, who was off doing...something. He wasn't sure what, and he also wasn't sure he exactly wanted to know. But Digend had blessed them that day with good luck on the roads and fair weather, so he wasn't going to worry or focus overmuch on the goings on nearby. After all, Aurora wouldn't partake in anything grisly or related to those crazy cultists.
So with a light step Sinarin drew closer to a circle gathered about a playing bard, bobbing his head. He scanned those gathered around, taking note of a few. All were good looking, if one was fellow was older and had the air of a peddler. He definitely had a useful selection of items about him... A common mare, a unicorn, and oh ho! "Iggy's balls, is that a kirin?" the thief blurted, without a trace of tact as he stared at Cecilia.
Post 1 | WC 242
|
|
|
|
Post by foalish on Jul 3, 2018 18:34:06 GMT -6
C E C I L I A
❅ Vagabond | Outsider ❅
Cecilia didn’t bat an eye as Abel came to sit next to her a second later. Her tail curled around her body, a faint smile large enough to reveal her canines sat on her face. She leaned against Abel, letting her head rest on his shoulder. While her ears remained perked and listening to the tune.
She felt at ease - it was a lot easier to feel calm when those around her were too. She let her eyes trail over them, they seemed immune to her presence at the moment, lacking judgment. At least from them. There was a faint unease that she naturally felt when around anyone who wasn’t like her, whatever that meant. But she paid it little mind in effort to listen to the conversation, songs and good atmosphere. Her only movement that came from her was the odd shuffle or two into place, a tail flick, and the movement from her eyes and ears as she listened to and watched the horses around her, and as more joined them.
She didn’t seem phased as a few more sat next to them in the circle. But as one passed by, and spoke aloud, she immediately stilled at his words. She lifted her head off of Abel’s shoulder and peeked at them, slowly, gently trying to confirm the words were pointed at her before she registered or reacted. The stare at her only confirmed it had been for her ears.
She blinked confused once. Twice. Three times.
Iggy? That was Ignacio, right? Her god. That automatically made her perk up a bit more. But it was the second word that stood out to her longer.
Kirin.
It felt empty, repeating it in her head for the first five times. It was the sixth that shattered her reality.
A missing piece to the puzzle that she’d been trying to find, thrown ceaselessly at her in surprise. When no one else would. A Kirin - that’s what she was. That’s what Ignacio was.
Cecilia stood to her feet in seconds, but she didn’t move. She had a boldness to her that looked out of place to anyone who knew her. One Abel had seen once or twice; one that never lasted long. It looked odd on the small kid. “Is that what I am?” her voice was loud, near a bark. But it wasn’t menacing, more like relieved. They were first one to use that word in front of her; Cecilia just stared longer, eyes wide. The question seemed pointless to ask, she already knew it was true - she was a Kirin, species wise that was, whatever it meant - but her mind started running at the news and she wasn’t sure what to say from it through it all it’s shouting. “What else do you know?” It perhaps was a strange question to anyone but her, but she was left with no memory or clues to who - what she even was, not until now.
|
|
|
|
Post by galekxy on Jul 3, 2018 18:50:11 GMT -6
A B E L
Vagabond Bard
......
He let his eyes fall closed as he listened to those around him. More were coming to listen to the bard, but none that Abel knew. He was simply content being next to Cecilia.
The young horse almost seemed to be nodding off when suddenly the weight from his side disappeared, and his head snapped up. Light eyes glanced around wildly until he noticed that Cecilia was simply standing now- and she seemed alert. Abel squinted and tried to recall what had just been spoken that could garner such an interest from his friend. She was facing a horse, and Abel stood on unsteady legs too. Had he said a kirin? Abel had heard of them before, but hadn't believed he had ever met them. They were included in the tales that often spoke of Ignacio. His gaze slid to Cecilia. Did this horse think she was a kirin? But- but she had no antlers. Weren't kirins supposed to have antlers?
He felt almost at a loss, unsure as to what his role could be here. Maybe it was bad of him, but it had felt nice to be with Cecilia and to be the one that knew more. The one that could help. He had never been required for anything before, and Ce allowed him to be... needed. But the way she looked in interest at this other horse, and the fact that this horse might know something- it made Abel feel uneasy. Of course he wanted Cecilia to know more about herself (he wanted to know more too), but he was scared that she might leave if she realized she didn't need him. If there was more she could do without Abel beside her.
He watched the horses around them, wondering if they would react. His family hadn't been too impressed that Cecilia hung around with him, and so far no one had seemed to mind Cecilia, but would they mind now? The stories he had heard about kirins... they were just as bad as those he heard about Ignacio. He didn't really believe them, but others certainly did- his family did.
Abel took a step closer to Cecilia, continuing to keep a close eye on the others reactions. There were numerous horses around the bard, and he wondered which of them had heard, or noticed. Would they mean any harm?
... ... Word Count: 393 Post 2 |
|
|
|
Post by Jennycallie on Jul 4, 2018 0:42:00 GMT -6
Florian
Vagabond Outcast
Florian had felt that they were adjusting fairly well to their new life, thank you very much. Or just their life. Was it new? Were the memories even their own? What did it mean that… and so on. An endless loop of enthusiastic questions that Shiann, bless her heart, was unable to answer. She was a child of Argus, after all. Not that Florian, child of Ignacio, was able to do any better, something Shiann wasn’t above reminding the kirin. But gradually Florian had adjusted to their life, as it was now, and had felt a measure of.... Normalcy, descend upon them. If it was normal to live solitary in the forest, unsure of the next meal. Freedom, Shiann called it. Cold and hungry, Florian called it.
But they could see Shiann’s point, sometimes. Florian didn’t remember their past, but they did not think that they had been free, then. Part of something greater, maybe, but they did not travel as they wished, beholden to none. Young though she was, Shiann was bold, and Florian had come to admire her, and her way of life. It had become normal.
But as Florian walked next to Shiann, matching their longer strides to hers, they felt their eyes bugging out of their head, and the old, familiar sense of overwhelming anxiety tinged with wonder once again kindled in their belly. They felt on the verge of sensory overload as the crowd milled around them, equines in every size, shape, species, colour, all talking, laughing, singing- Florian drew closer to Shiann unconsciously, comical as they towered over the diminutive mare, their pale, spiraling antlers glittering as they caught the last of the light.
Florian realized that they hadn’t seen any other children of Ignacio, but Shiann had gently warned them to expect this. It still ached, but it was a familiar ache, and one easily set aside in the face of so much newness.
“Do you know all of these people?” Florian whispered to Shiann, eyes and head swiveling constantly, unaware of how their antlers scythed menacingly through the air.
Post 1 | 343 words
[/div] |
|
|
|
Post by Chipo-H0P3 on Jul 8, 2018 22:32:17 GMT -6
------------------ Shiann ------------------
Shiann smiled widely as she took notice of the heavenly aroma and music that wafted through the air. At last, she and her new travel companions had made it to their destination. The Wordsmith Gathering was just over that hill.
Encouraged by the proximity, the young mare picked up her pace. Her bag beat up against her shoulder, causing an annoyed squeal to come out from within it. The head of a yellow mongoose poked it's head out of a pocket to see what all the ruckus was about. It was Shiann's familiar, Tavi.
"Hey look who's awake and just in time! Just up ahead is the festival!" She said enthusiastically.
She turned to her other travel buddy, Florian, and grinned. Florian didn't seem too sure about where they were headed, but that wasn't new for them. Florian didn't seem too sure about anything. Not where they came from, or how old they were, or their family. All Shiann really knew about them was their name and that they were a kirin, a species Shiann once thought were creatures made up for bard songs. But Florian followed her anyway like they always had since the odd pair met. Florian was a good sport, Shiann only hoped they could enjoy themselves. They seemed like they needed to have a good time. She sure as hell did.
The sounds and smells of the festivities brought a sense of nostalgia that filled her chest with calming happiness. Her parents tried to take her here every year when she was younger. It was one of the few times so many vagabonds got together and Shiann loved it. It wasn't often she got a sense of community with her lifestyle, but the amount of creativity that was shared here and the fact that there were just so many of them, made her really proud of her people.
Shiann looked over her shoulder to see how Florian was fairing and nearly poked an eye out with the massive rack of antlers in front of her. She didn't realize how close the kirin had gotten.
“Do you know all of these people?” Florian asked quietly.
'He's nervous.' Shiann thought.
Her heart twinged for the older equine. She normally wasn't fond of large crowds either. But this was different. This was the Wordsmith Festival!
"N-no, but that doesn't matter. Just stick close, and uh don't worry if people stare at you. They just probably haven't seen a kirin before, you know? And watch out for thieves, they can be a problem here... But This place is great! You never know what amazing things you're gonna run into!" Shiann was doing her best to sell the festival to Florian but then a familiar voice directed her attention elsewhere.
"Is that Persephone?" Shiann asked herself as she quickly bolted in the direction her music, completely forgetting she was supposed to be guiding someone.
The usually clumsy mare was doing pretty well maneuvering through the crowd, that is, until she wasn't. Just as it seemed she was getting close to Seph, Shiann collided with another mare. Tavi screamed within her seat in the saddle bag and braced for impact.
"S-Sorry! I'm so-" Shiann began but was cut off by the sudden realization of just who she ran into. Tears began to swell in her eyes. "S-seeker?"
P1 | WC 558 |
|
|
|
Post by MapleEgg on Jul 9, 2018 19:13:18 GMT -6
↤↤↤↤↤↫ ֆɛɛӄɛʀ | ʋǟɢǟɮօռɖ | աǟռɖɛʀɛʀ ↬↦↦↦↦↦
Seeker's state had her spacing out to Persephone's music, she giggled inwardly thinking on how easy it would be sleep later. It was deeply pleasant and she welcomed a calm moment for once. Her racing mind as it had been moments ago was easing more and more as the spirits and sounds of the gathering were growing in her. Spreading its warmth through her. She even stayed silent as a kirin apparently was learning that was what she was. Seeker smiled as she eyed the small light mare with mint green scales coating her body. Her memories didn't seem to be there, just like the others she had crossed paths with.
"and so young" Seeker thought in passing as the little mare pushed for more answers. How weird it would be to not know of your own past but even Seeker had learned her mind had played tricks on her. That her scar was not formed by some big cat but by a vile horse. Quickly she tossed that thought out of her mind, not wanting to dwell on old things and enjoy the Wordsmith Gathering.
This world was growing ever more interesting by the day with these mythical beasts back in their ranks. This one seemed gentle enough and Seeker quietly watched, blinking her three eyes lazily as things happened around her.
That was until her world was spun around by a collision. She staggered backward, trying not to bump into any other horses. Just as her mind flared back up to deal with this new happening, it then turned to pure fire. Before her stood the one and only she had been seeking. Her time alone was over. Without another word Seeker rushed Shiann and embraced her friend. Suddenly her words came to her, that iconic Seeker voice came forward. Clear and crisp like a bell, loud but pleasing in tone.
"Shiann oh, Shiann. How I've missed you. I'm was so worried, it snowed... you were gone.... and I looked and looked and looked"
Suddenly she realized she was crying. Wetness fell from all eyes and it startled Seeker with the emotion she was feeling. She had always been steady and solid, calm and cool but finally finding HER and here of all places. It was so much. She smiled and laughed and pulled away from her friend.
"Oh Shiann...Your foot! How is it?!" As if something was finally making a connection again she worried about Shiann's state, that she had been harmed so long ago, before they met. The foot injury had been an issue for the poor girl since. As Seeker craned to look she noticed the Kirin, a sly grin crossed her face. Although tales of Kirin's haunted the lands she couldn't help but like them. Those she knew seemed constantly lost and out of place. The antlers were so strange that she couldn't help but enjoy the sight of them. Her eyes perked as she gazed over the lanky Florian and then arched to look back at her Shiann, raising an eyebrow while she smiled.
"A kirin? Do tell"
Word Count :
519
Post # 2
NOTE // Seeker's voice actor would have to be Cate Blanchett
youtu.be/r9E1jeD92k0 |
|
|
|
Post by gone-astrayy on Jul 11, 2018 3:15:54 GMT -6
Persephone | Bard
Persephone had looked forward to the Wordsmith gathering for quite awhile. It was always a good time and place to relax and let the festivities sweep her away. Years past had her enjoying the festivities as a spectator, but this year, she decided to pull out her pan flute and show off. This year the Bard was more bold, whether from past experiences, or the wine she'd imbibed, or a mix of the two, she couldn't tell, but she was happy to let it sweep her away in a rush of euphoria. As she played, a crowd began to form, joyous faces and elated voices filling her vision.
Her heart swelled as she played, for this was the reason she was a Bard. It was her calling to bring delight and jubilation to others, and with the world was growing dark, any happiness she could spread was a victory. Her body swayed to the rhythm of her music, the staccato of her notes like exclamation points, the cadence of her songs controlling how fast her heart beat. So lost in her music was she, that she didn't notice the familiar faces that had found their way to her until she saw the pair of them collide.
"Seeker? Shiann! Greetings my friends!" Persephone trotted over to the pair of mares who were greeting one another, and took in the sight of Shiann's new companion, a kirin if her eyes did not fail her. He wasn't the first one though, she had seen a young kirin in the crowd as well, and she made a mental note to meet the young girl, she had looked so young and unsure, and Persephone wanted to make sure she was doing well on her own. Though she had cut her music short, there was no shortage of music and noise, for the sounds of merriment permeated the air as everyone celebrated in their own way.
Word count: 320
Post: 1
|
|
|
|
Post by Dream-Lark on Jul 14, 2018 10:56:32 GMT -6
A brow rose in amusement and a hint of confusion as the young equine surged to her feet, taking on quite the amusing belligerent stance.
"You don't know whatcha are, little tines?" Sinarin inquired, grinning lightly. He had an ingrained aversion to kirins, but he'd never been the uncivil sort. Sharp silver eyes shifted sideways to a unicorn who moved closer to the young kirin, protectively. Oh, so she even had a champion already. Curious, though the other male looked about as confused as the kirin, if hiding it better and more wary of everything about them now.
"I don't know much, really. Your kind caused a war, killed a lot of equines, and haven't been seen since. Kirins have a bad reputation in most places," he added, flicking his tail in what might have been an equine shrug. His tone wasn't malicious or unkind, just matter of fact. "I know kirins look like unicorns, but with scales and fangs and antlers. Pretty fierce looking, though you aren't there yet, little tines." the thief added, quirking his lips up in an another grin of amusement.
Attention shifted about him, eyeing those approaching, always keeping a roving eye out for a likely target or trouble--which is how he noticed another sweeping set of antlers making it's way toward them. The common horse let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Speaking of the fiery devils, lookit what just waltzed up. A more growed up version of our little companion. By Iggy's balls, this was turning out into an interesting night.
Ears swiveled as the new kirin's companion ran into one of the mare's who been listening contentedly to the music before, thought it seemed they new each other already and where having a heart warming reunion.
"Well, ain't this fun. Hey, I know what we all need! A drink!" Sinarin announced loudly, grinning and eyeing the elder peddler standing beside him. "Whatcha got there, handsome?"
WC 324 | Post 2
|
|
|
|
Post by galekxy on Jul 15, 2018 18:37:04 GMT -6
A B E L
Vagabond Bard
......
The horse who had said Cecilia was a kirin continued to speak, and Abel's frown deepened. He didn't like what the other horse had to say. What he said couldn't be true. Cecelia was nothing of the sort- she would never participate in a war. Let alone killing others...
Abel took a brave step forward, brows furrowed. "Those stories are just stories! They aren't true." He refused to believe that everything he had heard about kirins and Ignacio had been true. And even then, Cecelia didn't have antlers! How could she be a kirin? Even if she had scales... and fangs that Abel had been shocked by at first. But his thought flit to how his group had reacted to Cecelia. They hadn't been impressed with her appearance, and had still not accepted her as one of their own. They tolerated her but past that...
When Abel looked to where Sinarin pointed out another kirin, his mouth nearly dropped open in shock. This one had, well, antlers. Large tines drew up above their head, and they had scales too. Abel couldn't deny the similarity between his friend and this stranger.
It made him feel lost in a way that he couldn't understand.
The bard who had been playing stopped and went over to the horses that stood with the new kirin. Abel glanced at Ce, worry still blooming in his chest. He gave her a soft nudge- for what, he wasn't sure. Support? Encouragement? Just to know that she was still there, maybe. He had promised to help her remember more though, and if this could help then he'd be by her side doing what he could.
... ... Word Count: 277 Post 3 |
|
|
|
Post by foalish on Jul 15, 2018 22:12:51 GMT -6
C E C I L I A
❅ Vagabond | Outsider ❅
The only reaction Cecilia had to the question was to shake her head. She didn’t find any further reason to say anything until more was spoken, so she didn’t. She did briefly note that Abel joined her, next to her, but she still looked at the speaker with full interest.
For some reason, the mention of a war didn’t upset her. Nor of the other things this horse said. She frowned briefly to look over at Abel who seemed to protest that everything was just stories. But instead she whipped her head back to listen to the parts about what Kirins looked like. Which was everything she had - kind of; minus the antlers, but she did have the start. Which was enough for her. “I know I died violently,” she half mumbled in passing, as if it was a fact she didn’t care about. A war would make sense for a violent end. “Thank you for answers,” she dipped her head, a bigger smile on her face.
She looked over at the view of another two coming closer, a one silhouette much bigger than those around her. It was then when she realized it was because they had antlers. Antlers. Her eyes widened.
A Kirin - according to everything she was just told.
She wasn’t alone.
Like an excited child, she ran back to the spot, wide eye to join in on in the conversation. She wasn’t going to run up to them, yet, but she knew she wasn’t going to hold her tongue.
She looked over at Abel with wide eyes, an excited smile that looked happier than she’d been in a long-maybe ever. She was finally getting answers. Finally.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2018 15:16:23 GMT -6
Falk - Vagabond - Peddler
It stays like that for a while, with the old peddler just listening to the pegasus bard and sipping away. Voices seem remarkably far away for him and somewhat indistinct, one bleeding into the next. If one had said to him they were speaking a foreign language, he would have believed it. There’s a myriad of instruments, then the smells, the blurry sights, his eyes straining and paying him no favors. Then suddenly the singing stops when the musician notices familiar faces, and Falk is snapped out of it, ears swiveling around and giving them a look. Shame. He was enjoying that.
Everyone seems to know one another. Names are being exclaimed with either happy or amazed familiarity lacing their voices, broad smiles sprawling across the width of their faces. It’s sort of sweet, perhaps bitterly so. Falk doesn’t know a soul, but he doesn’t mind and vaguely smiles, instead observing for as far his swimming mind will allow, the alcohol not yet much more than a buzz but starting to weigh the limbs.
The red paint horse exclaims loudly about a kirin child, and he raises his eyebrows as he listens on. He speaks of the war, and the killing of many, and more things that the Valore-born unicorn would’ve once more greedily -loudly- disputed as lies at best, propaganda at worst. Now, as he put on the years, he had accepted most simply didn’t know better and he didn’t bother anymore. Kirin were their cultural ancestors, their father loved them all fiercely. But what the rebirth of the kirin meant, he didn’t know exactly. There’s no real tact about the way the man goes about it, but there’s seemingly no malice either, toying with the crude words and simple statements.
Then, the paint horse turns to him. "Whatcha got there, handsome?"
It takes a second for Falk to realize he is indeed the subject of conversation, but when he does he smiles. It’s a crooked smile, certainly inviting and very much practiced until it came as natural to him as it does now. Whether flattery or banter, Falk’s up for it. He's amused, so he'll humor it. “You care to try?” A jade green teke reaches into his bag, picking out a simple bottle like the one he’s been drinking from. “Here. First one’s on me. See if it’s to your liking.”
He holds it out to hand it over, then adds with a smile that gives away the jest, “Kid’s a little young for an existential crisis, don’t you think?”
423| Post #2
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2018 15:45:21 GMT -6
A change in the air around you catches your notice, and draws your attention away from the festivities. It is a sudden gust, too subtle to be shocking but enough to blow the flaps of the vendor tents up and tear flowers from a young bard's hair. The passing filly nearly drops her lute in an attempt to retrieve it and then, like you, looks skyward at the source of the wind.
A dark storm is brewing overhead, seemingly out of nowhere, swirling over the hilltop that overlooks the Gathering. The black spiral of storm is standing in stark contrast to the lavender of dusk, and horses around you are beginning to murmur and move towards the hilltop. "They're doing magic up there." the young bard says, gathering up her flowers with a gleam in her. "All the hedgewitches. I think it's working!"
She bounds off after that, following the flow of the crowd to the forest at the hill's crest.
|
|
|
|
Post by MapleEgg on Jul 17, 2018 16:12:22 GMT -6
↤ ֆɛɛӄɛʀ | ʋǟɢǟɮօռɖ | աǟռɖɛʀɛʀ ↦
And just like that Persephone were with them, Seeker couldn't help the full grin that split her face. As much torment the small group had seen she felt such a bond to them.
"Persephone! Your music is pleasant as ever! Glad to see you"
Seeker had lost track of what was going around them with the arrival of Shiann and then Persephone but she did take not another Kirin seemed all excited to be around one of its own kind. She went to turn the attention to the pair, the Kirin and the unicorn. Then it happened. Just as their usual luck had something changed. It stirred up Seeker's fear, one she had been working at all night to quell. The wind brushed them, it tore strands from Seeker's mane she had wrapped with care. They whipped her face as she read the sky and saw danger. Her three eyes immediately fell on Shiann and she shifted close so their flesh was touching. She would not lose her again. Taking her usual brave stance felt good but her core was cold. Still inebriated and reeling from the roller coaster of emotions she had been tossed upon she watch the young bard.
"They're doing magic up there." the young bard says, gathering up her flowers with a gleam in her. "All the hedgewitches. I think it's working!"
"What type of magic i wonder..."
She looked to her friends warily. The wanderer felt to pull of curiosity but she had been is so much danger, had felt the fear of loss for Shiann and did not want something strange yet again.
"What do you all think?"
Seeker even looked to the young Kirin and her friend as the crowd leaked along the trail the little bard had started but mostly to Shiann and Persephone. If they wanted to see, she would follow to protect them. She would always be that for them.
Word Count : 324
Post # 3 |
|
|
|
Post by Dream-Lark on Jul 17, 2018 18:53:46 GMT -6
Oh, the unicorn kid was cute, but naive and probably not well traveled. "Every herd has stories about em, and not one likes kirins. Well, okay, one does, obviously. It'd be ridiculous if Aodh didn't like their ancestors," Sinarin rambled, tone still kind, but firm in the resolve that what he said was true. However, he missed what the little kirin mumbled to herself, the words lost in the burble of voices and music that still circulated about them in little eddies and waves.
"Welcome, little tines," the thief replied cheerfully, catching sight of her face as the other kirin arrived. He laughed at the expression that came over her features, definitely pleased he wasn't in the other's hooves right now. He could only imagine how many questions were bubbling through the little one's mind. But he left them to it as his other companion produced a bottle, silver teke taking easily from jade.
"First one's free, eh? Oh, I like the sound of that, handsome. Must be some good stuff, then," he remarked, winking as he took a full swig. "Ooh, boy. Can't go wrong with that advertising. Gimme two more, at a reasonable price now, handsome," Sinarin added, grinning as he cast a glance toward the one Falk was talking about. "Aye, she is. But they seem to get 'em younger and younger these days!" he said with a chuckle, taking another swig happily as he tucked his two other bottles into his saddlebags. Oh, this was a good night!
He blinked as flowers blew past his nose, on a wind that seemed to be picking up, he now noticed. It didn't bother him overly much, but the words of the bard who was chasing after said flowers sent a little chill down his spine, fighting the warm tingle of the alcohol moving through his bloodstream. They were really doing magic; it was working?
"Aurora," Sin murmured, giving a start. Silver eyes flickered to the three eyed mare as she asked her question, snorting softly. "Welp, I'm going. Gotta check up on my gal," the thief announced, in a nonchalant manner, throwing a wink at those around him as he started off up the hill. With a subtle touch of silver teke, he loosened up a few of his throwing knives and the dagger that were sheathed along the chest strap of his saddlebag--being prepared was what kept him alive, after all.
WC 404 | Post 3
|
|
|
|
Post by foalish on Jul 20, 2018 2:21:48 GMT -6
C E C I L I A
❅ Vagabond | Outsider ❅
Cecilia settled down a but further into place, a bit happier. There was a lot left to think about from this night - there was more answers than she’d gotten or expected to get in so long. It made her overjoyed. But she didn’t need to think about it all now; not while surrounded by others who were busy focusing on song and stories. It was too joyous to drift off.
Except exactly when she got comfortable, it seemed like the mood had completely shifted.
Cecilia found herself straightening back up and giving a glance and a blink at the horse who spoke. Something about Hedgewitches. And Magic. That made her ears perk; her eyes follow as horses seemed to get up and walk away to go see about the commotion.
Cecilia gave a glance to Abel, a smile, and a gesture with her head to move. Soon she was off on her feet, in young joy, ready to see what everyone was so excited about. This gathering was a lot more interesting than she was initially expecting it to be. She didn’t mind in the slightest.
|
|
|
|
Post by gone-astrayy on Jul 21, 2018 4:29:46 GMT -6
Persephone | Bard
Seconds after Persephone joined her friends, a strong gust began to swirl around them. The wind blew tent flaps up, sent flowers flying high into the air. The wind seemed like it was beckoning them, and the Bard could feel it tugging at her wings. As many pairs of eyes turn skyward, Persephone follows suit, spying a dark, ominous storm brewing at the top of the hill. Over the screaming of the wind, Persephone saw a young bard, heard her cry out.
There were hedgewitches, and they were casting magic.
Several horses began to file up the hill, curious and intent on finding out what was going on. The hybrid heard her friend's question, and turning to Seeker, she gave her a curious look.
"It's obvious isn't it? We need to be up there!" Persephone thought she had rotten luck, always finding herself in a bad situation, however, after her transformation, Persephone had done some soul searching and she came to one perhaps not so logical rationalization. She was meant to be in the heart of trouble, because she was always protected somehow, someway. Even when the situation was dire, Persephone somehow always managed to come out of the rubble alive and well, her friends as well. She had an inkling of an idea of who.. what might have kept her path dipped in chaos but rarely harmed, and she wanted to find out the truth someday. So for now, that meant letting fate take her to where she was meant to be.
With that, Persephone stowed her pan flute in her saddlebags, and checked on the pouch that Koda was sleeping in before trotting up the hill.
Word count: 278
Post: 2
[Persephone is now moving over to Vagabond Plot 603: Summoning Circle]
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2018 7:44:53 GMT -6
Falk - Vagabond - Peddler
With slow crawl the smile on Falk’s face widens when the paint stallion happily throws back a swig. It’s good, he exclaims as he lays claim to two more bottles of the stuff; of course it is, he knows it is. He may be a hustler, and some of the expensive wine maybe a little diluted with just a dab of the cheaper stuff, but it’s good product. Aodhians know their wines and orchards well, and they handle luxury like it’s their full time job, practising it as though it was their birthright. He’s pretty sure many of them believe it is.
Then it suddenly becomes dark. A sliver of wind pulls at him, his many jewelry making chimes as they’re jostled. Falk slowly raises his brows, attention pulled away from Sinarin, and he looks up- casting mismatched eyes at the sky above. A darkness is churning above the hilltop. He’s vaguely reminded of the time he had bought a ride on a Seroran merchant ship and they had narrowly avoided a maelstrom that had roared and twisted, hungry and alive. It did not look inviting. In fact, it looked a little terrifying. Petals fly by their hooves.
They’re doing magic up there. The hedgewitches.
Magic. Falk knows hedgewitches -he knows a witch, rather-, and it’s mostly a bunch of theatrics and a whole lot of expert acting. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. But that includes a little haruspex, some arcana cards, throwing some bones or pouring some dye into a bowl. That doesn’t include an actual, genuine swirl of ink that’s starting to form above the hilltop, as though it’s perhaps reaching out to… something below. He shakes the thought.
“You go do that.” he murmurs to Sinarin as the stallion bounds off in pursuit of his girl, and the peddler stares for a little while at the darkness. Most of the gathering goes there with curiosity. He’s a little concerned at the lack of worry- the lack of what the hell is that- but when everyone goes, slowly he urges his muscles to do the same. He’s worried- but he’s also curious. The party’s taking a turn.
WC: 360 | Post #3
Falk's following the gang to Vagabond Plot 603: Summoning Circle
|
|
