Opens: Monday, October 5 @ 10pm EST Closes: Friday, October 9 @ 10pm EST Closes: Saturday, October 10 @ 4:30pm EST
Beckoned by the moon and stars, seekers of the Grove wander the darkest expanse of the Kawani forest. But not all is safe. Some walk astray.
They catch glimpses of something that lurks in the shadows under the trees. A pair of eyes flash, blazing with unnatural fire, then suddenly vanish back into the blackness. Those who investigate find ash and scorchmarks.
The fragrance of teaflowers lingers in its wake... And somewhere in the dark, those eyes are watching.
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 7:35 pm
Directions:
This is a character & story contest! It's like an RP contest, but it's open-ended. The goal here is to tell us who this soquili is by writing a story about her.
You're trying for the mare shown above (uncert linked below). Who is s/he? What is their history? What does s/he do? Why does s/he look the way s/he does? What is his/her/their purpose in coming to (or living in) the Kawani forest? Does s/he even live there? Does s/he have family? If so, what are they like? Why did s/he come to the enchanted teagarden? Is s/he looking for something? You don't have to cover all of these things or even any of these things; these are just ideas to use as a springboard!
There is no specific prompt -- what you write is up to you!
Ultimately, I'm seeking a story that creates a character for her, i.e. makes her seem more "alive". She is influenced by Halloween & Day of the Dead (sugar skulls), but your story does not have to have influences of these. Feel free to write from first person or third person, and use as many NPCs (or existing characters/soquili/familiars) as you need to. You are free to tie her into existing plotlines. You can use any story elements you wish, as long as they don't break Gaia ToS or soq rules (ex. no sexual assault). Clarification: "soq rules" includes all shop rules as currently dictated by shop lore, i.e. no magic that is out of place. You're using the character idea you have for the soquili her/them/himself.
I will ask other staff members to help me judge!
If you have any questions, please PM or IM me.
Prize: Halloween Rose Tea Calavera - by Strife Breed: fiery canine-pawed mutant
Rules:
Please do not void posts; please edit them instead! You are free to edit as much as you like until the deadline. If your idea changes, you are free to change your entry entirely (prior to the deadline). There are no strict word length requirements/limits! Proxying is not permitted for this contest. You can make an individual entry or work together with someone; this will not affect anyone's chances. However, only one person can post the same entry (please do not post repeats). If this is too difficult, I reserve the right to add a prompt as an option and/or to extend the deadline. This is not a guarantee. You are not excluded from this contest if you are currently applying for a colorist position!
Entry Form:
[center][size=22][b]Follow the Trail...[/b][/size][/center]
[b]Username(s):[/b]
[b]Entry:[/b]
Strifeling Crew
Indomitable Seraph
Offline
Strifeling Crew
Indomitable Seraph
Offline
Posted: Sun Oct 04, 2015 10:13 pm
Open!
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 8:03 pm
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): Ebonrune
Entry: She enjoyed walking at night, the tattoos upon her hide glowing in the darkness. She imagined sometimes that the stars sang to her, and these imaginings made her feel less lonely in her travels.
Once she had been in a clan of many. Like her, they adorned their hides with the glowing tattoos made from ink drawn from special plants. They were gone now, or at least she believed it to be so and she traveled from her lands to these new ones.
The markings were more than mere decoration. They told stories, reminders of tales of mythical beasts with magical powers. Minor gods and servants of such. These stories she carried and these stories she felt obligated to pass on. So she would travel and find those who would listen. Her clan was gone, but with hope, their stories would endure.
There was an epidemic the likes of which had not been seen for millennium. Droves of humans and soquili died within hours of contracting the disease. The world became a place where you could feel death breathing hotly down your neck every minute. Closer, closer, it would say. Can you feel me?
Dalia was young when the fever took her. She was the first of her herd to go down. She grew weaker as the days passed. It became evident that she would die, that there was no hope. Her family insisted in giving her the rites, despite the illness.
When she died, they tattooed her body in glowing ink, painting tapestries on her skin to enjoy in the next life. With the same glowing thread, they sewed shut her mouth and her eyes, to keep the evil one from taking her body.
Then they buried her.
The next few days passed in death. Her family died. Her friends died. Her whole herd died....
That was when she awoke. Her heartbeat had been so faint that they had thought she was dead, and when the fever finally broke as she lay beneath the sod--she awoke in terror.
She could not open her mouth or eyes, only seeing shadows through her lids. Her body trembled with weakness, but she pushed and stretched. She fought with all that was left of her, and somehow it was enough.
But the girl Dalia had died beneath that ground and it was Razor that arose from there, a mare sharpened by death. Her eyes were gone, her voice too, but she remained--she was still alive.
Stumbling around for days, she found not one of her herd. On the fifth day, as she was drinking water between the stitches of her mouth, she saw someone.
The stranger smiled at her, greeted her into the herd. The next morning though, the plague had spread to the village overtaking every stallion, mare, and foal in the herd.
And Razor was alone again, except for the virus that slept within her waiting to infect someone else.
(OOC Note: Obviously anyone who wants to can succumb to the disease and get sick, or be immune--as is their choice)
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 8:58 pm
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): Kyrieko
Entry: There is a legend that is whispered around the Kawanii camp fires. A tale of pity and of beauty. They say there was a spirit so lovely and caring. Creatures found her presence peaceful and comforting. But they could only sense her. For she was as black as the night. Like a living shadow. All who laid eyes on her would run in fear. For they thought their shadow was coming to take them to the netherworlds. Some even went so far as to claim the spirit was the horrible crossing of the great Kalona himself and a Skinwalker. Both creatures so terrible that the depths of their souls surely must be reflected in this dark entity!
The mare would cry, late into the night. Her tears would draw the other creatures to her, the liquid along her cheeks causing rainbow like reflections from the light of the moon. It allowed them to see her! And slowly, her tears began to stain. Began to form markings along her cheeks. And then one night, as dark storm clouds began to roll through, the peaceful spirit who was dark as night heard a sound. A pitiful sound of someone feeling as lost as she. Following it carefully as rumbles of thunder began overhead, she found a young two legger lost in the dark. They were terrified when the shadows moved and the lightning struck to show just her sillhoutte. Softly she spoke, promising she wasn’t going to harm them. Her soft fluffy tail wrapped around the child, comforting them as she continued to talk sweetly. And as the rain began to fall, her coat began to glow with markings. The child watched in awe, seeing the beautiful mare light up. The two legger was no longer afraid.
When the rain eased and the skies lightened, the mare’s coat stayed aglow. She helped the child find their way back to the village, where the little two legger told everyone that she was not a shadow of the demons that plagued the land! She was a protector of the lost! A guiding light to those in need.
And so, it is in the depths of the forest that this guiding light of the lost can be found. She has been drawn out once again by the sounds of laughter and those that have wandered a bit too far from the Enchanted Gardens. With her eyes that glow and markings of light, she is there, waiting, to lead you back to the path you seek.
Entry: xxxxx I don’t remember much about my past… The past is supposed to stay there, right? So what was the point in dwelling on it? But it took all of me to tell anyone what had happened to me before I became… this. This creature of the night and the dark. And it took me hours to tell my story. But, you want to know it so badly? You want to know why I look like this before you will try and help me. Fine. I will tell you, if you really wish to know.
xxxxx A long, long time ago, I was traveling the lands. Why? I don’t really remember. But I know that I enjoyed the path ahead of me. I enjoyed traveling as much as any other wolf. And it was amazing. My eyes were bright blue black then, and my fur was black as night. I think I had a family… though I don’t remember fully if that is true or not. I stumbled upon a small hut in the forest, which had the loveliest blue roses. They were stunning, so stunning I had to have them. So, I took some, without asking permission from the owner of the hut.
xxxxx A few days passed, and I realized something strange was happening. I woke up one day from taking a nap, and saw odd markings along my paws. They moved up to my knees, and then stopped. Flowers and leaves and bones decorated my usually black fur, and it made me stare in disbelief. What was happening to me? I didn’t know. I tried to wash the markings off, tried to wash everything away but it stayed stained in my fur; to the point I was worried that something happened to me!
xxxxx As the moon changed shape in the sky, so did the markings on my pelt. The spread up along my legs and onto my chest and sides, down my clank and back legs. And every day I panicked. I tried to wash them off and felt a sort of madness in my mind. Something was corrupting me. I started to kill for the pleasure of it, instead of killing for food. I started to hunt those similar to myself, instead of greeting them with a smile and a kind conversation. Something was wrong, and it pained me.
xxxxx The only thing I could think of that I did different from before was stopping for the roses. But when I tried to rid myself of them, nothing happened. I traced my footprints back to the hut, and saw an old woman sitting on the porch. Upon approaching, the woman laughed, and stood up to meet me at the gate to her hut. She informed me that I had stolen her priceless roses. When I tried to give her back, she said it was too late, and I would have to deal with the consequences. I begged her for as long as she would listen to me, before she waved her hand in dismissal and walked back into her hut.
xxxxx I ran then, as quickly as I could. I had to escape the world around me. But mine mind was becoming more and more hazy. The markings were moving farther and farther up my body, onto my neck and my face, my ears. I felt a burning deep in my core; everything was on fire, and I couldn’t think. Nothing was right. After that, I don’t remember… Everything goes black and dark. Until one day. One night I was myself again; though the markings still remained. I could breathe and think and be who I used to be, the sweet loving mare. There was no moon in the sky, and I was confused. Perhaps this would mean that I was cured? That I was going to go back to normal?
xxxxx But then I blacked out once more. I forgot the world around me. And it happened again. I once more was back to myself, when the moon was vacant from the sky. The pattern continued every month, my mind going to the beast that controlled me for but one night when the moon no longer shone in the sky. I listened to the word on the wind, and tried to find someone to reverse this curse. But it never worked; no one I sought out could help me.
xxxxx But my tale is still continuing… I have heard rumors of tea brewing wanders traveling around, and thought perhaps that someone here could help me? Anyone? Do you think anyone can help me? Anyone at all within these lands? I only have a few more hours before the sun begins to rise and the beast once more takes control of my body. So if you can think of anyone here who can help me through all of this…
xxxxx Please….
xxxxx I beg of you….
xxxxx Help!
Disclaimer: Solanine is prone to episodes of madness, where she forgets things and happens to make up stories. No magic was used in the making of this Soquili.
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 9:59 pm
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): Kaya Wolf Moon
Entry: Where did I come from? Every living creature asks this question at one point or another. It is part of our makeup. It is what drives us. To know who we are and to be known by others. We seek acknowledgement from others so that we can know our existence is meaningful. Even I have asked this question. I- whose birth had been heralded by the melding of the sun and moon- did not understand who I was. I- whose very essence was shaped and molded and given form by the celestial spirits- was left adrift in a void of blackness.
Who was I? Why had I been placed upon this earth? The questions plagued me night and day. I wandered for what seemed an eternity, constantly seeking the answers. Whenever I thought I had come close to figuring it out, the so-called epiphany would be snatched away much like a leaf caught in a gale-force wind. The black void would once again descend upon my mind and leave me empty. Time after time I was denoted to a mere physical being who appeared to have no rhyme or reason, to have no guidance in this plane…to have no soul.
The beings of this plane- those known as Soquili, two-leggeds, and familiars- thought me a monster at times because I lacked proper communication skills. Those that did try to understand me found that I imposed too much effort on their part. I could not answer their questions. I had no memory of what I had been nor did I have any knowledge of what I wanted to become. I merely…was. That is all I could ever say. Time and again these beings would come into my life and all would exit the same way- cursing that they had ever met me or tried to help me in the first place. My constant apathy to this existence proved to be too challenging. If I did not know who I was then why should I exist?
Eventually, word spread to the point that everyone ignored me. If they did not speak with me or acknowledge me then it was as if I did not exist. And so, what I had believed I had wanted had come to fruition. No one bothered me. There were no more questions, no more trying to insert themselves into my world. I became a phantom capable of walking the physical plane with ease. My goal? There was none. To no longer exist meant to have no goals…no desires…no dreams.
Things remained like that for a time. I kept to myself, drifting lifelessly from place to place. My whims were my own with no one to care of and no one care for me. And that is when I met HIM. On the night I met him, I finally realized what it meant to actually feel ALIVE. The dichotomy of life- its perpetual balancing act of inconsistencies- came into stark clarity. Who I was and what I had been meant to do came flooding back to me. My dark, laconic vision of the world instantly brightened into one of colorful wonderment.
Who am I? I am the child born of night and day. I am the physical embodiment of sorrow and joy, of hope and despair, of light and dark, and of life and death. My essence is my own…and yet it is interwoven within everything. My name is…
(Disclaimer: Every aspect of this character's "birth" is simply a belief held by the character herself. It is not meant in the literal sense.)
Crickets were intruders, but more welcomed than some. They fed on her precious plants. She didn't like that. But they had their uses. Tiny alarms whose silence rather than cries signaled trespassers. And it was silence that she now heard. Silence that touched her insides with a chill.
Was she born or made? She doesn't know, and may never know. She has seen life in its beginning--caterpillars, flower buds, tadpoles...had she been the same? She has never seen an infant her. She believes the Goddess simply made her. She has always followed the guidance of the Goddess for as long as she can remember (which is not a very long time). The voice of the Goddess was her first memory of sound when she woke up in the Kawani forest some years ago, and yet the Goddess never speaks out loud. The Goddess is her only true companion in those woods. It was the Goddess who lovingly made all things. And yet it was the Goddess who bestowed her with a terrible curse. The curse of her Choice.
Her heart had reached its pinnacle beating, the pumping blood pounding sickly in her head, ears, chest. Tongues of flame lapped furiously at her maw and brows, and she voicelessly begged them quell, but they would not. She pulled her scarf round her head for cover and prayed to remain unseen. There were footsteps now.
All living things were created with one purpose to fulfill--one path to walk. There may be multiple paths, certainly, but there is only ever one Choice to be made in the end. It is the purpose of ants to clean that which decays, and the purpose of butterflies to help the flowers thrive. Their paths are simple ones. Her paths are not. At the crossroads of two choices, the mare cannot decide which path to take--which path she is meant to take. The Goddess created her with one purpose in mind, like all things. But She is cryptic. The mare must decide on her own.
Hair like snow, eyes like icicles, four wings pure as a lily's petals. The stallion was beautiful, but blackened by the shadows of the deep forest--blackened by the fear of strangers that resided in the mare's heart. All at once, the fire in her skull extinguished, and for a moment she allowed herself to feel some happiness at her triumph. But it was in that moment that the stallion peered through the trees at her.
The smoldering fire in her skull was a gift to go along with her inevitable Choice. With one well-placed spark she could cause devastating forest fires--scorch the earth till it was barren, burn towering trees to her paws, and even end the lives of other creatures. But she could also renew life--in the wake of guided flames and ash, new plants could sprout and flourish, and sycamores could stretch even higher from the rich soil. She spares no great thought towards sentient creatures when it comes to making her Choice. She feels too distant from them--too afraid. Her friends are the oaks, rosebushes, moss-touched creeks. At least for now. But the Kawani forest is her shelter more than it is her home. She's a recluse in every sense of the word, but more-so out of fear than she realizes.
"Who's there?" the crystalline voice called. The sound of another was foreign to her ears. It was rare for her to see Others so deep in the woods, especially winged ones. But winged ones weren't as frightening as some. They couldn't fly here. And this one didn't seem threatening. And yet his mere existence was a threat in its own right. The mare's brows twisted with reluctance. She swallowed several times before stuttering, "L-leave this place."
Others scare her more than anything. She doesn't know how to be around them, and she won't let herself become familiar enough with them to find out. She questions them constantly and always suspects evil before good. Her anxiety is crippling, but she doesn't yet understand the joys of friendship or the peace of love. Not yet. But maybe there's still time for her to learn--time for her to turn away from the path of destruction and loneliness and see the beauty that life and love offer?
"Don't be afraid, Mare," he spoke gently, as if she would break. "I mean you no harm." The mare's brows furrowed. She didn't believe him. "I'm only passing through on my way to the mountains." Mountains? Unlikely. Why hadn't he flown? Her questions remained trapped in her throat. Conversation was difficult for her. The stallion spread his many wings and they quivered. Their feathers were tainted with blood. The mare gasped and stumbled backward. "Don't be afraid," the stallion soothed again. "I was attacked on my way by a devil. I won't be long here. I only seek to pass through." Attacked?! He would bring the demon here! Or was that the case? Perhaps this was all a ruse? He could be tricking her. Fire sparked to life in her skull, and then it roared. She stepped forth from her hiding, scarf falling to her neck. Through crackling, sputtering ember and blaze, her voice boomed, "LEAVE THIS PLACE!"
Her fear of Others can twist into spite and rage. It is a response to protect not only herself, but the forest. But should she continue to protect it? She will have to choose her path definitively someday. The Choice sometimes overwhelms her and throws her into despair, but through mediation and prayer she can find her inner-calm again. But it is only a stall. A stall that provides temporary relief from the doom of the inevitable. There is safety in choosing not to choose. And there she now remains. But for how long, not even the Goddess knows.
The rocks were cool against her skin where she lay, blood still calming from her taxing encounter. Her heart ached and she groaned pitifully in response. Images of the fleeing stallion played time and again in her mind. She had made him afraid. She had made him afraid as he had made her afraid. And yet this knowledge did not bring her satisfaction. She felt empty. The Goddess was silent now. In that silence the mare's mind began to wander. Had she always dwelled in these woods? Was there really a Goddess? The stallion's kind eyes flashed in her memory. She smothered a sob in her scarf.
[ooc notes: Of course I have to write a disclaimer that the "Goddess" isn't real! Her origins are unclear, but we can speculate that she's either the result of some forgotten trauma, or simply a side-effect of an unfortunate mental illness. The feeling I have that the mare can be rehabilitated leads me to believe more in the former, and it would actually explain a lot. We might be able to learn what happened in her past over time. Then again, maybe we'll never know... Instead of posting future ideas at the end, I really wanted to focus on her story instead, so hopefully you can guess her future plot directions based on the story alone. Also just clarifying, my choosing not to name her for this story was on purpose.]
Posted: Mon Oct 05, 2015 11:06 pm
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): LydaLynn
Entry: The voices were a gentle whisper, a susurration of dreams cut short. Illumi Noche liked to think it was those dreams that lit her hide. In truth she didn't know why the spirits caused markings to appear, glowing, upon her body. She only knew the dreams of the dead drew her. She could hear them, fading into the aether with the passing of mortal life. Each time she followed the whispers to a life cut short she would listen and a new marking would appear, representative of the one who's dreams had been lost.
Others wondered that she would follow the whispers. But Illumi Noche didn't see her task as morbid or sad. She listened to revere the dead, knowing that by carrying their dreams, some part of them still lived. In truth, she celebrated the lives of those who whispered to her.
Sometimes . . . Sometimes she could even carry those dreams to fulfilment. If she was able to live a whispered dream, that mark would fade and she could feel the joy of the dreamer as it achieved its dream through her. And while she didn't live her life for this purpose, having felt enough dreamers who had not fulfilled for themselves because they gave sway to others, she took oportunities that presented. Particularly when they seemed to suit her own personality.
So she heard the whispers of one who wanted to attend a party. A tea party. And, as Illumi Noche was near and otherwise free, she decided to see if that dream could be fulfilled.
The whispers of sound, laughter and conversation, worried her as she approached. But it wasn't a gathering of the dead but the softening of the garden plants on a gentle conversation Illumi Noche heard. A gathering unlike anything she had ever experianced.
And unlike the lands from which she came, those here were inviting. They shared their tea, their stories and history. And they didn't look askance of her dreamer's markings. Indeed, they marveled at her etherial beauty. Even as she felt the joy of the dreamer that had led her here fade as the dream was fulfilled, Illumi Noche knew she would stay in these lands. There were whispered dreams of the dead here. But more, there were the friendly voices of the living.
Disclaimer: Illumi Noche hears whispers that likely are a combination of a creative imagination and a dose of dissassociative disorder. Her markings do not change, but she was sure that skull marking had a narrower brow ridge and that ribcage marking used to have eight ribs. She's not fully insane so mich as gently dillusional.
LydaLynn
Nebula Dragon
Offline
Yeonn
Fuzzy Werewolf
Offline
Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2015 7:24 am
Won A Soq
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): Lestragne
Entry: I am but a being trapped in a body that is not mine. It will never be mine but i have come to acknowledge that fact. I was fated to receive this blessing that is how I chose to look at it. I am but a ghost on the wind those who see me quickly dismiss me as a figment of there imagination. I make no connections in this life I have grown used to the darkness. I was happy once I had a home and a family but I must embrace who I have become and I have. I smiled to myself I am not evil but quite the opposite. I help others achieve there goals and dreams.That is what I was sent back here to do I was dying and some kind soul took pity on me.
They revived me to live as a guardian among the lands. My appearance has changed but inside I am still the same mare always wanting to help those in need. I will protect this land from evil and stop whoever gets in my way. The glow from my body will keep the shadows at bay even if I am used to them I will never become one of them. I am not undead but everlasting at least until my time comes a new guardian appears. I will stay strong and carry on through this blessed life. I will keep my secrets but those passed before me will always guide me to those in need.
Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2015 7:27 am
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): AstoriaFallen
Entry:
Mares name; Celosia Boneblossom, Greek for “burned” and the end is a surname.
I have permission from LOLTERNATIVE to use the boneblossom’s in this. History: When the Boneblossoms were created two sisters came forth from the baskets. Parents unknown on both accounts but here they were. One was dark as night; her soul on fire-her eyes and mouth emanating its passion; the other, pale as an early winter spring-blossoming like the flowers after a light rain. They were polar opposites but yet they were akin in so many ways. “Sister Name TBD” and Celosia Boneblossom were the first of many to come but unlike her sister she did not find herself a mate to carry on the line. Instead she wandered, her soul searching for someone who could see into the fire pits of her soul and calm the embers that burned there with a passion of their own. She was searching for someone who could withstand her temper and tame her spirit.
When Celosia came forth from the basket she was indeed dark as night, her tail glittered with specks that resembled the stars, simple bone markings that adorn her front legs and chest, and a single skull of a horse(is that a horse?) upon her back leg. Was this a sign of some sort or just a strange coincidence? For unbeknownst to the two females, there had been a third foal, a colt wasn’t strong enough to survive through the growth process in the baskets.
The medicine woman who had helped the two fillies gave her a sash that had been ‘blessed’ by the spirits to help one find their path as the old woman believed the darker filly to be lost in her soul. There seemed to be something in her fiery gaze that had the woman wonder if perhaps she’d be lost forever to her passion. For unlike her pale sister, she had a wild spirit that cried out to be free from its cage within her soul.
As she grew older the bone markings started to grow, almost like a sign of aging. It seemed to happen around significant events in her life as well; perhaps this was coincidence yet again. It wasn’t until she reached adulthood that the flower markings covered nearly her entire body, except for her back legs. Why was this? The medicine woman believed it was because the mare had yet to discover herself in life and when she did they would perhaps grow in, or stay bare forever as she wandered the lands, searching for what was missing within her.
IC: She was angry, though she didn’t know what she was angry about. All she knew was that she had this pressure within her chest, within her heart and soul that wouldn’t go away. It never let up and was constantly there and it kept her mood set and steady at disgruntled and somewhat temperamental. Her sister on the other hand was calm, collected and seemed to have her stuff together. Why was she so different from her? Why was she so angry all the time?
These thoughts often drifted through her mind, especially in moments that she spent with her sister and her children. Would she every find someone to have children with? She didn’t know. At least she had nieces and nephews to shower her bright personality upon. They seemed to like her well enough, despite her rough exterior. Perhaps they saw something in her that she didn’t?
She snorted slightly as she looked over towards her sister and lifted a paw slightly to rub her leg. “I’m going to leave for a while. I’m not really sure when I’ll be back, or if I’ll be back. It’s something I have to do….. I can feel it.” She said to her rather abruptly. Hadn’t that medicine woman said something to her about a journey? Maybe it was a spiritual one? She couldn’t recall now, it had been so long since they had left the woman who had helped her and her sister into the world.
She gave her sister a small nudge on the neck, she didn’t often show affection but today she did. For as much as they were different she cared for her sibling in a way no one else ever would. She would miss her, in her own way. “I can’t promise we will see each other again, but I do promise that I’ll be with you and you with me.” With that Celosia turned and walked away from her pale sister and into the vast unknown.
- - - - -
It had seemed like time had no end to her, just one day and night after another. Faces came and went, seasons seemed to change and yet she wandered still and then she saw it. This festive event of tricks and thrills and unique personalities that seemed to draw you in. What was this place? Where was this place.
She eyed the area cautiously and shook her head with a huff. Was that-no where those tea cups? This was an odd sort of gathering to her. She figured she might as well start her journey here. Perhaps there was someone here that could ignite some of the embers within her that had yet to come to life.
Plot ideas:
Family RP with her sister- once she’s no longer an NPC. (She’s being quested by LOLTERNATIVE) I don’t know if I’ll be back- She tells her sister goodbye and heads out in search of whatever is eating at her soul. A wandering soul- She travels the lands in search of something, in search of someone. What is it? Who is it? I’m going to have her meet different kinds of SOQs and familiars. Calm the flames of my anger- She meets someone who gets by her hot temper and somehow sees into her and gets her to open up a little. Which she doesn’t entire like because it makes her feel vulnerable so she leaves. You again?- she runs into the same SOQ again and this time sticks around a little longer. This is where I leave you- She doesn’t understand what she’s feeling and leaves. She doesn’t like the vulnerability she has around this SOQ . Has it been so long? – she runs into her sister and realizes how long it’s been since she had last seen her Don’t make me hurt you- She runs into someone who tests the waters with her temper and she lashes out at them. Character development- I want her to meet SOQs that test her nerves some more but in a way that make her have to control herself. She doesn’t like this and often storms off but comes back because she feels as though perhaps they are right. Internal conflictions (solo rp)- She fights within herself to understand her purpose, her reason for being in this world. Why was she created? How did you find me?- The SOQ from earlier finds her again and she wonders if perhaps he was who she was searching for this whole time but was just too stubborn to see it? …will add more as I think of some Elder status- I do want her to eventually reach elder status. When this happens I would like for her back legs to finally be colored in with some markings that signify her finding her path in life. I’m not sure what it will be just yet as that is a ways to go. ^^ I just thought it would be something awesome for her, to show her that she had a purpose, that she had meaning.
AstoriaFallen
AstoriaFallen
Crew
Winter Wolf
Offline
Sabin Duvert
Winter Trash
Offline
Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2015 11:05 am
Follow the Trail...
Username(s): Sabin Duvert
Entry:
Dusk warmed the clearing, casting the glade in hues of purple and pinks as the day drew to a close. However, the tea garden festival ran for many days, during both day and night, and just because the sun was going to rest did not mean that the festivities did as well. And this time, at the crossroads between day and night was Ofrenda's favorite time. The land held onto the warmth of day, and yet the stillness of night had begun to settle. Appropriately, it was akin to the meeting of life and death, and so the perfect time to tell her stories.
Ofrenda smiled warmly, candlelight flickering in her mouth, at the gathering of soquili and familiars alike that stood before her. Young and old had gathered to hear her talk, and while a few hesitant looks were given to her odd and a little intimidating visage, they seemed to feel that there was a safety in numbers here at the festival.
Once they had gathered close, Ofrenda began to speak, "Thank you all for spending some of your precious time here at the festival when you could be playing games or participating in contests to hear me speak. I know that I may look startling to some of you, like the subject I wish to speak to you about this evening: the departed. I have learned that many soquili and familiars in this land are hesitant to talk about those who have left us and moved on from this life to greener pastures. However, where I am from - a land many moons' journey to the South - we celebrate and remember those who came before us. And it is in remembering those who once lived that they may continue to do so in the minds and memories of the living.
Death, like myself, might be frightening at first. However, death when it comes at its due time can be warm, soft, and comforting. It can be a furry embrace, a warm shawl, and the comfort of night. It can be an old friend and a friendly ear. My name is Ofrenda, and it is my duty, passed down from my mother, to remember those who might otherwise be forgotten, and to share their stories with others so that their legacies might live on.
The markings on my pelt each tell a story: perhaps a brave warrior or noble spirit, blessed mother or intrepid adventurer. The departed shared their stories with me before their passing, and with the tea made from the flowers that bloom around my neck, I helped ease their passing. When I learn a new story, I add a marking to my pelt that represents their life. Then, I share those stories with others so that they may live in the hearts and minds of many others. Once I have passed on a story, the marking leaves me as well, having found a new way to live on. And, as long as the warm light still burns within me, as long as I live, their memories will live on with me as well. And some day, when it is time for death to greet me, I will pass on my stories."
The soquili and familiars gathered around Ofrenda murmured quietly to themselves, their anxiety easing. And a brave young colt with tea leaves scattered in his mane from the day's activities nudged forward. "I don't get it. Why does it matter? Who cares if you remember someone who's not here no more?" It earned him a scandalized whicker from an older mare who nipped at his ear. But before the colt's mother could scold him more, Ofrenda smiled gently and continued.
"Where I am from, we believe that it is only as long as you are remembered that your spirit lives on. If you are forgotten, your soul passes to oblivion. However, even if you do not share those beliefs, you can understand that even the dead have lessons they can teach and a boon to give to those who yet live. Take the tea, for example, that we have all come to enjoy and celebrate at this festival. The plants who gave their leaves and flowers to create such a wonderful drink have withered and died, and yet it is only in their wake that tea exists. And tea has brought us all together here. Even after the plants have passed, they still have meaning. So it is with familiars and soquili - lessons that they learned in life, things that they discovered and mistakes that they made can help the living. Sometimes we can transcend long beyond our role in life, bringing a change to the lives of others. "
A small raccoon with shining eyes raised her voice as Ofrenda paused, "Why you? Why do you have to do all this for the dead? Isn't it terrible having to give your life for the departed?"
Ofrenda shook her head, "While I consider it a duty, it is a responsibility I cherish. I remember those who would otherwise be forgotten - perhaps they never bore children, or those children are long gone. Or perhaps they found themselves at their death many leagues from home. I will take on the stories of anyone who would be forgotten... any except for the skinwalkers. Those beasts are the only creatures upon the lands that deserve to be forgotten and lost to the oblivion of time. Nothing good can be gained for passing on their memory but more madness and terror.
Before me, it was my mother, Caldera, who took on this role. She taught me her ways and I joined her on her travels. We met the most interesting of creatures - and I loved hearing the stories they told. It brought me happiness knowing that we could ease the passing of the old or sick or gravely injured beyond the magics of healing. For my mother, it was this shawl that she kept track of the stories of others. She told me that each star in its silk was a memory she carried. And she told me each and every one of them. And when it came time for her to pass from this life, she gifted me with this treasured item. Unlike the markings on my fur, I will always wear this. My mother's memory and embrace beyond the veil of death, and the stories of those she aided."
She took a deep breath, her velvet voice pausing before she met the eyes of the soquili gathered around her once more. "But it is time for what I came to this festival to do: to share some of those memories with you, so we can celebrate and remember those who passed before us. How about I tell you the tale of the brave soquili who is represented here on my left flank with the skull of a hawk? She was an adventurous hippogriff filly who left her herd at a young age to see the world when the passage opened to a mysterious land - to her - that lay far to the south. She wished to find another soquili who could match her in spirit and speed. However, as she learned and so shall you, not every challenge is without its catch..."
NOTES: - Ofrenda, in Mexican culture is an altar created for the dead, typically on Dia de los Muertos. Ofrenda, the soquili concept, is taking on that role as a living altar and memory/shrine for the deceased.
- I am perfectly fine with Ofrenda's markings being paw-painted rather than magically appearing over her pelt if that is an issue with powers. If that's the case, she may still claim that they magically appear on her pelt when she learns a story/disappear after it has been passed on, but it would not be the truth.
- Also, just to clarify, the tea made from the flowers worn around her neck, that she uses to help "ease the passing" of those near dying would serve as a mild sedative/pain killer. Nothing magical, just some medicinal properties.
Posted: Tue Oct 06, 2015 4:54 pm
Follow the Trail...
Username: dawns_aura
Entry:
Name: Sakhelis Gareshe Temper: Survivor
History/Backstory: This isn't really a story worth telling. There is no good, no heroic... stuff. All it is is a tale of survival.
And, like it or not, Survival isn't always happy, or pretty or sunshine and rainbows.
She was surrounded constantly by blood, by fire, by death. She was a weapon born in and forged by the Underworld. The perfect huntress – Ruthless, tireless, without morals or qualms. Willing to do whatever is necessary in order to survive.
In a land of demons and 'walkers, it takes someone strong and smart and cunning to survive. A fact that was drilled into her head since she was born. If she was to survive, she had to be stronger, faster, better. She made her first kill when she was a young foal. She had been happened upon by a walker foal who thought to use her to practise his torturing technique. She didn't agree. He was her first, but definitely not the last. She felt his lifeblood spill beneath her claws, the last twitches of his body as the nerves died. There was a moment when she felt horrified, but it was fleeting. She then felt the satisfaction of knowing that though she took a life, it meant that she would survive.
She was born with fire in her eyes, in her heart. It manifested as she grew older. A mark of distinction, yes. But also as a useful gift.
She was older when she realised aside from being a distinction, a mark that was hers and hers alone, her fire also had practical applications. While leaving a trail of bodies behind was a good statement – you know, don't ******** with me or I'll take you out – but after a while, the bodies get too high, and it's almost too much. So while trying to figure out a way to dispose of one of her victims, she happened to light a fire, the flames quickly doing the work, consuming the corpse leaving behind nothing but a pile of ashes.
The life of violence and bloodshed, the daily struggle of simply trying to survive, started to become too much. While wandering on the fringes, trying to eke out an existence and avoiding trouble as much as she could, she heard rumours, rumours of a way to escape. A portal to the upper world, a lush land where on wouldn't have to fight. Where she could live and be free. Kawani...
The main problem though, was she had no clue how to get there.
Tagging long after a group of 'walkers who planned to invade, she made her way to the portal, the Demon Tree.
She fought her way through the path. It was her only chance. The only way she could survive. It could have taken only moments, it could have taken years. She lost all sense of time. Space. Self. She lost who she was.
As she emerged from the depths of hell, there was a feeling of pride- she had escaped something terrible, awful, unspeakable – but what? Perhaps if she stayed here, or at least nearby, she might find the answers to her questions. Only time would tell...
Disclaimer: The 'magic' she uses in the Underworld is usable only there, as it is a different dimension, and things work differently there. It would not be usable in Kawani.
Potential Plot Ideas/ Story Arcs: The main theme that will be found through her plots/rps is that of nature versus nurture, and finding the way to reconcile who one once was: through various experiences. -Flashbacks: Her memory won't come back all at once, and maybe not ever fully, but what she will remember comes back in short flashes and bursts which feel oddly like dreams -Triggers: After what she has gone through, the trauma will have left some serious scars on her psyche that aren't visible until something causes them to surface- anything from -PTSD -Mindhealer- Eventually she will seek out a mind healer to try and get better. She will do whatever is told to her or suggested, trying to find something that works, that will help her come to terms with who she is, what she has done, and who she has become.
-Darkness Within -Confronting the Past - in which she comes face to face with a purewalker, battles it and all her memories that she will have from her past snap into place. (this will probably be an NPC 'walker she will kill ) -Adoption(???) -Finding a place to belong
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