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 Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2006 1:43 pm
Quests Write a two paragraph [5-7 sentances] post about the scene and day your child arrives at it's chosen city. Try to use all five of the senses. Remember, you can't RP an infant aside from the occasional baby sound and looking around. This is not intended to be an RP post- tell us what kind of atmosphere greets your baby when he/she arrives. (10GP)
The town appeared to huddle from the spectacular display that ran the course of a morning; from the wee hours of the false dawn down to the later hours of the nooning when it finally tapered into mild, chilly drizzle and faint, far-away glimmers of lightening. An air of respectful fear and hushed reverence to the elements, to Mother Nature, seemed to have settled in on the buildings and inhabitants and would remain long after the display was over. A quiet sort of awe that was imparted even to those newly come into the land.
Such a greeting for the dawning of new possibilities - rain heralded change and the wiping clean of a tainted and tarnished world...perhaps this was a sign of things to come...or perhaps it was completely and utterly mundane: just another stormy day. Either was equally possible and quite plausible, from any standpoint.
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Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2006 2:13 pm
Quest Find and post three images (hand-drawn or found elsewhere on the net are both fine). These images will affect your child's future personality and concept, so choose wisely! (5 GP)
Candles for devotion (and firey temper |3~)
A Dragon Puzzle Ball for strength of mind and body (and to keep him from CHEWING THE HELL OUT OF MY LEGS. >G)
And a Stellar Compass so he will always know the Way. (whether he follows it or not)
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 8:20 am
Congrats! You are ready to grow! Please claim a growth slot and send your form in!
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Posted: Mon Nov 13, 2006 2:14 pm
Beautiful day. No, really. It was bright and sunny and the whole world (well, the whole of the world as seen through a pair of mischevious magenta eyes) was muddy. Glorious. Small but strong legs, slightly bowed thanks to his insistence that he walk before learning to crawl, pedalled him down to a muddy streamlet that his Nana (that was the name he gave the seemingly genderless creature that cared for him) would certainly rue him having found.
"Fishy!" The bright eyed child squealed as he toppled from the stream's muddy bank into the brackish water, chasing after several small glints of silver that may or may not have been little fish. (God help them if they were, Morrie would maul them.)
Morgan played in the stream for quite some time, his pale skin going pink from the extended exposure long before he tired of "fishing". By the look of the sun, his Nana would be in quite the tizzy, so he opted to dry himself off on the bank before he went back home; Nana was forever "loosing" the child - he always wanted to explore and move. It didn't matter that Morrie wasn't very big: the child simply did not know he couldn't do things...and so he was able to do them.
Mind over matter, it seemed.
When he was finally dry enough that he thought Nana wouldn't know what he'd been up to (Ah, children were so simplistic and naive!), Morgan rose to his scratched-up feet, picked up a "sturdy" stick he'd found while playing and started back home. (Oddly enough, the boy never really got lost...he seemed to have a sixth sense or something to that effect. It was the only reason that Nana didn't shackle the boy!)
Halfway back through the woods, he heard a little yipping sound coming from a small shock of shrubbery, and being the inquisitive boy that he was (read: nosey as hell) Morrie stopped to check it out. What he found - much to his delight - was a small silvery pup of some sort. He didn't know anything beyond that it seemed to be alone...and he wanted to touch it.
The beast yipped and snapped at his questing fingers, teeth leaving marks because they weren't yet sharp enough to do any major damage. "Oww!! Not bite Morrie!" The boy took his stick and whapped the dog-wolf across the head; an action that made it cower and immediately caused Morgan to feel bad. "Morrie sorry, didn't mean to hurt." He reached out to pet the pup carefully and decided right then that touching it wasn't enough: he had to take it home.
Yes, the small creature would be his new best friend. But best friends needed names, didn't they? Morrie grabbed the fuzzy, fat tail (his agile little mind had already determined this would be the best way to bring his new "friend" home) and despite the animal's best efforts, he began dragging it back along the path.
"Morrie call you Cur. Nana says "a-cur-sed" lots about Morrie, so cur must be smart!"
Wouldn't Nana be suprised when he came home~ Nana would probably mutter about being "cursed" again; thankfully the boy was too young to understand it wasn't three words but one...and not a pleasant word at that!
Indeed, the boy's care-taker was suprised. And angry. Morgan was set to his room to "think about what he did" (pfft, yeah right) and the beast? Well, Nana was too kind hearted to kick the pup out despite the fact that it was fleabitten and had a biting problem (people often resemble their pets...)
"A-ccur-sed, I tell you...I'm a-ccur-sed..."
Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in the typing of this post, nor do I personally condone smacking small beasties over the head with sticks/dragging them "home" by their tails.
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Posted: Tue Dec 05, 2006 2:22 pm
Monday, Nov 27 || Growth!
Certed
Wonderful! Now he'll be even more unstoppable @_@;;
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 11:36 am
'They grow like weeds' was never more apt!
Morgan was fussing heartily at his keeper from a tattered rug on the worn wooden floor; the gruff and cranky man called "Nana" was kicking at Cur for biting at his pants and trying his best to ignore the blue-haired brat's whining. For weeks the child had been moaning and groaning about how his bones hurt. And today he refused at all to go outside to play -- Nana was getting no peace between Morgan and Cur.
Magenta eyes focused on the man bent over his parchments, ignoring him. That wasn't okay. That wasn't good and he did not appreciate being tuned out. The boy let out a caterwaul that startled the silver-furred pup into howling along.
"Gaum ye, Morgan. Kite yer mouth silent 'fore I feed ye to a dragonkin." Nana's speach was oddly metered and rough sounding despite the fact that he could both read and write nicely. The fact of the matter was that he just didn't care enough about the spoken word to worry about his shoddy speach patterns nor his strange accent. People be damned. He could talk well enough to get his point across and go to the market, that was all he really needed.
When the boy didn't listen the cranky older man rolled up his scrolls, packed them into a waterproof skin and grabbed a piece of fruit from a cracked wooden bowl on the rough-hewn table. "I'll listen not to yer caterwaulin, Miss Molly. Never should've taken on a' runt like ye. A-ccur-sed bratling and dog!"
And with that, Nana left the boy to wail and kick at the floor.
Nana's leaving only prompted more howling from the child on the floor. Eventually he wore himself out with the ruckus and fell into a deep yet disturbed and not wholly natural slumber. Hours past, morning changed to noon, and still he slept.
It wasn't until the pup needed to be let out; until Cur came nosing at his master, that the boy awoke. "Gaum ye, Cur. S'not right to lick an ear so." Morgan slowly righted himself, rubbing at his bright eyes with deft hands attached to gangly limbs.
"What, what?" He rubbed at the back of his head a little bit, puzzling over how he seemed to have had a growth whilst asleep - he'd been steadily growing since Nana had him, but this was a goodly chunk all at once!
"Cur, we've got spindles fer legs!" Morrie was curiously horrified with his 'new' body.
Just about that time, Nana - who had been just outside the whole time, reading - came back inside and stared at his ward. "...!!" He was speechless; yes, the boy had been growing quickly, but glory-be, he was a gangly youngster now, not just a slightly pudgy too-curious-for-his-own-good pseudo-toddler! ACK.
Nana knew, he just knew that he was in for trouble. 'Best to be getting this bit into an apprentiship, else I'll kill him...' The grumbly man sighed and went to find clothes that might fit the boy -- not that the'd wear them...but best to have anyhow.
And so, Morgan has grown.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 11:39 am
In dreams...realities cross and collide with the imaginary and all things are possible...
Always, always the dream-scape was more 'comfortable' for the tiny Iridae with the quiet manner. He found that in Dream, he could "walk" from place to place and "see" things that he might not have otherwise seen. Besides, when he was gliding through Dream and Dreamscapes, he wasn't limited by any physical forms.
Though the Iridae Rukashel had been reborn as a baby, in dreams and in Dream he was ephemeral - his shape changed with his will and by whim; he could be older, younger, he could be whatever he wanted though the form that he was most comfortable in was a mid-to-teen extrapolation of his "current" self.
While Ruka didn't know about his "past", some 'habits' (such as his form and mannerisms in Dream) lingered even with rebirth).
Tonight? Tonight he was enjoying the freedoms afforded him with the Dreams and Nightmares pre-occupied. Usually the Elder Nightmare, Uisce, either watched over or assigned one of the others to keep him out of trouble, keep him from going into dreams he shouldn't...but since Syrie - his caretaker - had disappeared, they had been spending much of their time frantically hunting the mists for any information.
He was alone. The Iridae's wings fluffed out, he was quite happy to be able to wander people's dreams, see what was what - effectively, he was visiting with others subconsciouses, connecting with other minds the only way that was available to him currently - via dreams.*** A boy with startlingly bright magenta eyes crept through a dark, primeval forest: every leaf and twig and insect and tree was exaggerated the way one's imagination knows best. He slunk along with a semi-shapeless "beast" at his side (one can only presume that the "creature" was his constant canine companion, the wolf-pup, Cur); boy and dog were tracking something through the lush and vibrant foliage.
The dense, dark shape that was Cur lifted it's head, sensing something watching. Morgan paused, one foot moving slowly to return to the spongy, moss-and-leaf covered 'earth' underfoot. "What is it, boy?" Morgan's voice sounded odd even to his own ears, kind of...hollow and unreal; a little bit like a recording played back rather than the "real thing".
"Is someone there?" The youngling reached around and pulled a spearstick from his back and held it before him as though it really did have a deadly, poison-tipped point at the end. Morgan wanted that and typically, that's what he would have had...but this time there was another with a stronger will that was calling the 'shots'.
Ruka's age changed a bit as he had watched Morgan; by the time the other boy had called out and armed himself, the form the Dream Iridae found himself in was one closer to his new "friend's" age, but not quite what he had intended.
"I'm here." His voice tinkled through the dream like little bells, golden and sweet.
Ruka appeared to Morgan as some odd sort of forest sprite. A faerie. He didn't see the feathery wings - in his mind they were gossamer with tiny veins and striations in them, almost clear and rather like a dragonfly's. His ears were pointed and tipped in lavender and as for costuming...well, that changed in the other boy's eyes. Ruka didn't mind; after all, this was Morgan's dream, wasn't it?
All he wanted, was to chat and play. If the other boy wanted him to be a forest sprite or faerie or whatever, then that's what he would be so long as they could be "friends", even for this little while. Dreams moved very quickly for children, so he wouldn't have too much time to get to know Morgan and Cur; Ruka did enjoy streaking through the forest (faeries were naked, were they not?) with his new-found friend and having strange adventures.
Several times, the other boy's dream almost turned into nightmares and it took a lot of effort on Rukashel's part to keep them from going there. Morgan had a very strong will; enough that in his own mind, he could change a Dream Iridae's form (slightly, and with his "permission") and nearly bring monsters out! As morning (for the Rinasci child, anyway) approached, Ruka started to say his good-byes. He had to leave before Morgan woke.
"Will I see you again, Ru'a?" For whatever reason, Morgan hadn't picked up on the "k" sound in the other's name; the faerie had answered to it so he continued to call it such. "I found you, so you have to grant my wish right? I want to play with you again!"
The Dream Iridae giggled and nodded - of course Morrie would see him again! It had been entirely too fun! But he had to go, and he said so before disappearing in a puff of glitter and smoke (theatrics purely for Morgan's benefit) and returning to his little "safe-house" in Dream.
"I think...it's time for a nap..." Ruka felt himself slipping gently into the arms of true sleep; though he didn't know the name for it, he'd "dream-walked" and that took a lot of energy from him at his current stage in life - even if the minds of children were far, far more open than adults...
***
"Ru'a" disappeared and Morgan was astounded and amazed. So much so that he was jolted out of his sleep! "Wow. What a cool dream!" The boy looked around his blankets for his mutt and when the pup lifted it's head and whuffed at him in a "what's up?" manner, he yawned and settled again. He hadn't forgotten Cur, it was cool. Morrie had been a little worried - when Ru'a appeared, Curr (in the dream) had gone. Maybe Cur and Ru'a didn't like each other...or maybe faeries couldn't deal with wolf-pups?
Whatever. He didn't care too much, he just snuggled back down into his blankets and lay until he fell back asleep. Nana would get to hear all about his dream...later...Cross-posted from Rukashel's Journal (Bleeding Heart)
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Posted: Tue May 08, 2007 2:04 pm
-clothes shopping?- X_x;;
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