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Sandpaints Staff Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2009 6:07 pm
Starts: NOW Ends: April 26, 11:59pm EST Colorist: Zukuro-chan  Oracles warn of impending darkness over the Island of Hal’ia, and the elements of the world themselves rise up and take up their temporary, mortal form in preparation of defending against it, even if by accident (Since no one says Darkness has to be evil), smothering them all in it’s shadowy coils. In this moment of unity and the cry for strength, the Avatar of Spirit is born.
PromptAs an element in mortal garb, and created by many, The spirit element has many voices beyond just that of the Element and the mortal. So much responsibility has been placed you by the other mortals, and even other elementals, but.. What about you? Do you follow what’s expected of you, or are you a free spirit? Do you think the darkness is as much of a threat as the others think it would be? 
NOTE: For all of you writing "He", this is a girl o_O
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note: After the event, the Elements will “rest”, and their mortal forms will live on with only vague memories of being the elements themselves, left with gifts over their powers, but able to develop as their own Personalities. RULES: You can only enter for yourself, and only you can win this painter You are allowed to edit your entries until we say closed. If we forget to say closed on closing day, you may sneak stuff in under our noses.
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 8:17 pm
Username: Lolita Lily Chi
Painter’s name: Araeia (Array-ya)
Temper: Hopeful
Prompt:
As darkness coils and burns within his spirit.
He unto chaos, is lost.
Fire clears his throat for flame.
Water whispers 'peace' to fires name.
Wind bellows a deep roar.
While Earth remains motionless at hells giant doors.
Allow peace to his name Is all I ask.
For darkness spirit is silent.
For my own heart is violent.
Allow some sorrow melt away.
For shadows love is here to stay.
"Ay me." Araeia cooed. Already she had felt her heart go heavy and she groaned in annoyance to wish it away. "They cannot see, can they?" Whispering to herself she ran a finger through the mist-like clouds below her resting place. Araeia born unto this world to defend alongside the other forces against the shadow. Little did they know her heart longed for him. Perhaps that is how she would defend them. Love. After all emotions too are within her spiritual understanding. She can hear their words clear as day, unlike the other dragons she stands beside.
"No, they wouldn't understand." She shook her head "How could they? They only know good and evil. To them there is no such thing as in between. Its one or the other, they cannot understand the night is peaceful like the day.. what am I to do?" Araeia decided all was lost. Her soul had already began to fade into that of mortal spirits.
If only.. she could find the chaos and prove his heart is no different to her own.
If only...
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Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 11:13 pm
Username: The Riyo
Painter’s name: Altsoba [Native American Origin: All are at war.]
Temper: Introverted
Prompt:
We are full of burden.
How is one supposed to respond in regards to a set destiny? Creation with a precise purpose. A shackled existence? Does one follow this unquestionable duty or...
Is there even another option?
We were created through the cries of our parents, our children, our brethren. They say to us, "The darkness approaches!" They say to us, "Take heart and prepare for battle!"
We say that this "outside force", as they consider it, is not necessarily what it appears.
Darkness. Obscurity. A lack of light.
They all have a bit of what they fear inside of them. Subconsciously, perhaps they realize it. And thus, birthed us out of hypocrisy... Or better yet, a desire for self-destruction. We are wary of this fact. Though, to speak of our thoughts would be pointless.
Our opinion means nothing. Actions, they claim, are what form the world. Opinions waste the time for action. We suppose, then, it's best. For even if we had a choice, what we desire is the greatest question that has no answer. Is it too much for one to wish a meaningless existence? If and when this destiny is fulfilled, does one fade out with the purpose?
But... Even as trees are burned for warmth, they return to the ground from whence they came and nourish the soil that once took such good care of them. Perhaps, if we followed the narrow path created for us... Our chance for selfishness will arise. But, to take care of this darkness. Would that mean... Destroying the soil that allowed us to grow?
We are not sure...
This darkness. It is our burden. And therefore, we are filled with it.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 4:59 pm
Username: Starbolt22
Painter’s name: Areenyala
Temper: Thoughtful
Prompt:
She was here. Mortal form has its downturns. She could fly, but not as endlessly as a spirit. Wounds were earned. Her new form was delicate, but sturdy. Wings required preening. She could fly away, graceful as water. At least, if her destiny wasn't so important. The voices of her other selves were mere wisps now. However, she knew her responsibility. Rather than dwell on things, she had to think what Darkness was up to. Mortals and elementals felt she was the only one who could save them. And yet, Darkness even placed hope on her. Shunned, he too, was afraid of the impending evil. Night would fall, Darkness coming. The meanings had blurred so much. Expectations were high. She wished to know the way of no responsibility, but elements would never know. Immortality had it's downturns, after all...
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 6:45 pm
Username: Faithofthefallen
Painter's name:
Temper:
Prompt:
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 7:48 pm
Username: Epine de Rose
Painter’s name: Emphyria
Temper: Neutral
Prompt:
An array of emotions were the subject of her birth, in one united cry and in a moment of seeming desperation both 'good' and 'evil' stood as one to speak out against the impending threat. Their uncertainty, their terror, their determination and their strength - all these emotions bubbled and boiled, poured into the melting pot that would some come to heat and solidify. One might say that her birth had been an accident but what couldn't be ignored were the expectations of those who had finally called him forth to do what they considered her duty.
They wanted her to destroy the 'Dark'.
She was aware of this, in the instance she opened her glistening eyes she was informed of her purpose. The Elements and the mortals that existed within this plane of existence had chosen her. She alone had the strength to go forth and banish the darkness, she alone could restore the land to prosperity... Or that was how it worked in theory. The dragon sincerely doubted that any of those involved in her birth could guarantee that her intervention would be successful; more to the point not one of them could fathom the consequences of such an intervention. Had they never heard of a thing called 'balance'?
Her position was a pracarious one. If she made a wrong move then the faith of these mortals would become hostile, but at the same time she was required to make a decision that wouldn't unmake the world. Mortals were so quick to make assumptions and with the lessers beings failing to provide her with ample support for their arguments (despite their pleas) she was more inclined to listen to the tell-tale murmurs of logic that simmered in the depths of her own mind. It was natural to be frightened of the unknown and uncertain of change but it was a fundamental part of life.
...It gave them something to live for.
Complex.
Suffice to say in the moment of her birth all these musings came to the forefront of her mind and as she surveyed the world that she 'belonged' to she considered each in turn. Those who were fearful of the dark made valid arguments to a degree, they based most on the cruel acts of those who performed dirty deeds during nightfall but it was a little different for those within the dark. For all their cruelty they were frighten to meet their maker (so to speak). However, the more the Sandpaint considered the array of arguments placed before her the more she became aware of one voice that was missing. She couldn't hear the Darkness itself...
Was it not the nature of mortals to seek justice, to let every being speak for itself? At present the Darkness had not been permitted the opportunity to provide a response; such was the adamant nature of these mortals that it was unlikely that such an element would even be listened to. She could see the stance in which Darkness would take, so hated for no satisfactory reason. Darkness was no evil creature (though the sand paint was not naive enough to proclaim it was good either); it was neutral... It provided rest to those who sought it and shrouded the more secretive from view. It was an unbiased party, one that took no sides though some might dispute this claim.
...Whether these mortals liked it or not they needed Darkness. They would crave it when it was gone.
Every creature needed something to fight against, every creature needed something to embrace. A sense of purpose was imperative to continued life and Darkness (like every other element) gave these mortals that opportunity. It was unfortunate that such an element would receive such a level of abuse in comparison to the others but this did not change the situation at hand.
Thus, her decision was made. Darkness would go unhindered for now; it would be permitted to extend it's boundaries and seep into the lands. Changes would be made, powers would shift and conflicts would begin (such was the way of life) and for the time being the Avatar of Spirit would observe. If Darkness made the decision to overstep it's mark and to place balance in jeopardy then she would intervene - until then she would remain neutral.
Life was for living; experiences are both painful and pleasant. To experience only one side is to lead a blinkered existence. To be fulfilled one must experience both and gain strength from each in turn.
Good and Evil cannot exist without each other.
Thus - Balance must be preserved.
It is imperative.
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Posted: Tue Apr 21, 2009 10:10 pm
Username: SilverLynx
Painter’s name: Sakiko
Temper: Brazen
Prompt:
I have always been, living in the ebb and tide of the emotional state of the universe. At times, I empower individuals to action. At other times, I simply embrace that which causes passions to soar. Indeed, intense emotion is my main state. I have sailed the winds of change - flown over and through every rebellion, every love affair, every joyous reunion, every life destroying change that has ever occurred. I feed from zeal. I am spirit.
But this time, this moment, I hear a scream, a cry that bites through the darkness of forever. I feel something I have never felt before. I am drawn to it. The scream becomes painful, it throbs and burns. What I feel now, is the terror and fear of a nation under fire, but instead of merely swirling pleasantly through the midst of it, feeding from it, I am changed by it. My soul is raked with pain as I am stripped from the winds of change and passion - dragged down into the body of a mortal being.
I know what is happening to me - I am becoming an avatar. Knowing this helps me very little. Terror floods my body. Wings snap open, catching the wind. My maw is extended, and the screaming roar that I was hearing I know now was my own birth cry.
Ichor runs from my newly formed eyes. I have been reborn. I tumble from the sky, only managing to sort myself out at the last moment. Even so, I land clumsily, gasping with lungs I did not have moments ago.
Could something, anything be so grim, to cause so much passion in the hearts of its people that I should be summoned in such a way? I look at this strange body, serpentine, but graceful and sensual. My form should be so. A wind ruffles my feathers, not merely one made of air, but also one of emotion. So I am not without power.
The situation asserts itself. A great darkness is coming - the other elements have taken mortal form. The terrific passion of these people, the Painters, have called me to join them. Raising my head, I look out over the land of Ha'lia, excitement running through me. A smile curves the edge of my maw. There is no question that I will rise to protect this land. A people who are so determined, so full of my element deserve nothing less than my whole-hearted support.
Fanning my new wings proudly, I stretch out my body, reveling in its inherent perfection. The time has come for action. There is not a doubt in my mind that the battle will be well fought and won. Leaping to the air, I head to the center of their lands, to the heart of the matter. These people are now my people, and they will be victorious!
((OOC: I'm only writing in 1st person, present tense to give the roleplay a sense of immediacy. When playing this character I would normally write in 3rd person, past tense as is far more common for literate roleplay!))
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 2:08 am
Username: Dimitri Obsidian
Painter’s name: Hototo
Temper: Calculating
Prompt: Secretly, she (what was the name they had given her? Hototo or something like that. She found he had a hard time dealing with having just one name; she was so used to having so many) couldn't help but be amused – and perhaps a bit pleased – at the way all of the other elements had praised her arrival, her embodiment in this new body of hers. Now that all the others, herself included, had been bound in these mortal forms, surely everything would be fixed. They didn't seem know that even if the others had been merely elements, she was more than that. While the others existed only in concept, she'd always had some form or another, whether it was on the lilt of a whistled song or blind faith and trust in the future. But now was different, apparently. Now that she had this body, this tangible thing that the mortals could see and feel, they felt hope.
It was a bit demeaning, really.
As she glided on the winds, surveying the damage that this supposed foe of Darkness had caused, Hototo found himself more in conflict about the situation than she had ever been. True, that which had been embraced by the Darkness was difficult, if not impossible to see. But as she saw the way that this night had embraced the landscape, wrapping the land and its creatures beneath its wings like a brooding Wyvern nestled over her eggs, she wondered what exactly it was they were fighting. Was it this thing, this element – not unlike her companions – that seemed to want to protect and shield the land from the harshness of piercing light, really an enemy? Those beneath her might have seen the darkness as something they should have guarded against with fire, but weren't they the same creatures that hid in the shade from the blaring sun overhead? Maybe this darkness was conducting itself in a way that wasn't considered the norm, but Hototo had a hard time seeing it as malicious.
Nestling herself on a rocky outcrop, Hototo rested for a moment. She was closing her eyes when she caught something out of the corner of her gaze, something that glinted in the faint light she gave off. Her curiosity piqued, she moved closer. Nestled in a deep crevice was a small cluster of jewels. She wasn't sure what they specifically were, but as she turned his head this way and that, she saw the beauty of the facets that glinted like the shine of an eye. Perhaps, she found herself thinking, this was the way it was meant to be. Perhaps it was the light that should have been the one to enhance the beauty of the dark, not the other way around. Surely without the caring shelter of the dark, these crystals would have never formed.
Hototo glanced over her shoulder, letting the sight of a land shrouded by night become the only thing she saw. Somewhere, her companions were meeting, discussing the best course of action. Her intention had been to be with them, but now...now, her intention was otherwise. She would make herself visible to the mortals, let them believe what they wanted about the fact that the unseen was walking among them. If they chose to fight against the darkness, let their faith be their weapon.
She would fight for no one but herself.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 6:46 am
Username: Roserain Painter’s name: Bai (The name felt weird at first, but after reading the meaning (click the name) it just started to come naturally as I thought about it; fits too well to let it go. I didn’t use the name or the idea to reference bisexuality, since I’d imagine most elements would be above that sort of thing; at least with disaster hanging over their heads.) Temper: Multifarious Special Notes: (I’m adding this to clarify) Although contained in a male body, Bai is by definition neither gender, and yet both. I thought that having him be male on female lines would help exemplify and blend with my version and prompt. Enjoy biggrin Prompt: Calling…Crying… There are so many. Pleasure. Pain. Hunger. Satisfaction. Desire. Sorrow. Joy. And yet their voices blend and speak one word. Fear. An uncountable number, all plagued by a sense of harrowing fear. I can hear them; feel them, even in this body. I am them, and yet more. The living and dead alike haunt me, as I am pieces of them. Even as I stretch these wings, it is not I, but the entire spiritual entity pulling and pushing these muscles. A united cry resounds; darkness is coming. A champion is called forth to rise up against it, to protect and defend, and then fade into nothing and legend. A tale of ebb and flow that has been happening eons before my ‘birth’, not unlike life and death itself. It is natural, a cycle, nothing more. Chaos and darkness bring unity and stir action amongst the living; it creates new things and brings about change. There is no evil here, only a need to realign powers. Too much darkness consumes, just as too much light blinds. All of this I am thinking; myself, Bai, a separate entity and yet a complex of many. I cannot seem to question what I am, I simply am. And I don’t know what to think. (will probably edit x3 is late/early, and need to sleep)
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 8:12 am
Username: Laxdrake4
Painter’s name:Mesenne (means to see in one version of Dragon tongue)
Temper:state of Nirvana
Prompt:
The Great Way is not difficult
for those who have no preferences.
When love and hate are both absent
everything becomes clear and undisguised.
Make the smallest distinction, however
and heaven and earth are set infinitely apart.
If you wish to see the truth
then hold no opinions for or against anything.
To set up what you like against what you dislike
is the disease of the mind.
When the deep meaning of things is not understood
the minds essential peace is disturbed to no avail.
The Way is perfect like vast space
where nothing is lacking and nothing is in excess.
Indeed, it is due to our choosing to accept or reject
that we do not see the true nature of things.
Live neither in the entanglements of outer things,
nor in inner feelings of emptiness.
Be serene in the oneness of things
and such erroneous views will disappear by themselves.
When you try to stop activity to achieve passivity
your very effort fills you with activity.
As long as you remain in one extreme or the other
you will never know Oneness.
- Sengstan
As things come and go, we, Mesenne watch and observe. As all things in nature there is a pattern. The mortal humans of the west see things as a line, things just progress, while their eastern brothers see life as a circle, things repeat itself. why not take both and combine them, a helix, things/ time/ life moves on and progresses but are repeated as one goes along this journey.
Sighing we look upon the coming day, the sun rising from its trip from the other side of world, bathing this side with light, waking all for the day and leaving the other side to shadow.
The darkness that is coming is like that of night, it must come so that we can then have light. nature does not like being unbalanced, as with light and darkness, nature has it so that one side of the planet is shadowed while the other is lightened and then they switch. again it is a cycle.
As we observe we see. what we see we understand. what we understand we live for. what we live for we die for. what we die for we see for the truth.
all life is a cycle. let us be prepared for this turn of the helix, it has been done before and will most likely happen again in the future but that is for another day another cycle .
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 12:51 pm
Username: Koreakin
Painter’s name: Almariath
Temper: Brooding
Prompt:
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Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2009 12:17 am
Username: Duelist of Pokemon
Painter’s name: Elpis
Temper: Taming
Prompt:
I hear your cries, my children. I can hear them far and near...
From the highest level of the heavens to the lowest ground of the underworld....They are all connected...
One, two, three, four...Like the many threads of a spider's web. And I see these links between us all...
Is that why when panic is stirred, one flees to tell the other who yields the other end of that link that binds them?
Was it comfort? Or maybe it was the need to hide amongst those stronger?
Perhaps...Perhaps not...And yet, I see that truth as she carries herself towards him....her spirit is darkened with worry and dispair...
The Lady of the Winds spreads her wings, carrying the message of plight upon those graceful feathers and her soft voice; I can hear her...but cannot see as one cannot see the winds themselves as they blow amongst the trees and upon the oceans' vast watery domain....
She is calling to him as she flies....Yes, to the waves.
To the rivers....
To the lakes...
And even the simple streams of shallow pools...
The Lady of the Winds carries the warning to our Father of the Waters.
The waves...they are strong, they are calming to us who live upon the land and the skies...Yet, beneath that soothing exterior...there is a force that is far too strong, a strength that even the mightiest chains cannot contain. Even now, as I watch them, his need to protect...his need to wipe away the impurity that threatens our beloved Hai'la is stirring within the darkened waters.
Storm clouds have begun to gather...and, not one, but two of the webs' link glimmer to my eyes...
One swims amongst the oceans' fresh current, racing within the rivers and streams towards the forested island below. The other...it dares go where no mortal dragon dares to tread; an island that is eternally ablaze with rivers of liquid fire and blackened soil that flares crimson even when the sun does not shine in the heavens....
The fire that is so often called a gateway to the underworld is calm today, yet his rage still boils within...and as the Father's waters touched the very edges of the dark island, Chronos himself barely took his breath when the rage of the flames cried out at the tale told...
Like a squalling child, the flames raged and lashed out at all who opposed him with the strength of a thousand demons...yet, his rage was held back by the Father's cooling touch as white smoke wrapped the fuming child within a blanket of security...Sadly, even with that gentle show of affection, the raging continued...
With a small sigh that disappeared upon the frantic winds...it was only Gaia herself who remained to bare the misfortune that was soon to come to this mortal land. Even as the nymphs and sirens wept and pleaded with Lady Gaia, she remained strong. Steadfast even as their moist hands beat down upon her earthy flesh.
Even so....I could feel her anger...her discomfort towards that which may not be welcomed...Her elderly bones began to shake and move...a low rumble could be heard about the crying voices of fire, water, and wind....thousands of painters took to the skies in a frail attempt to seek shelter...
Sadly, it was far too late...The heavens themselves began to weep as the gods above attempted to lash back the forming darkness with jagged shards of light...Chaos would only swallow them and laugh his harsh, mocking laugh at the pitiful mortals...and the wonderful chaos he had created upon this once peaceful world....
I could stand by no more and watch.
With a soft croon of summoning, I waited....
And they came...they all came. My children...
Their touch was gentle and warm, a shield against the harsh rains; their voices blocked out the cries of pain and the dark laughter that split the skies. My children whispered words of comfort, of encouragement, of strength and will....
They gave me strength as they flowed into my heart, the source of the fire that fueled my own spirit. They gave me a touch of life far more vital than the drink that touches these mortal lips of mine, the very air that filled my lungs. I closed my eyes, and let their gentle whispers touch my ears...I asked only one thing of them...
And they all accepted. All at once, they rushed into this mortal vessel and embraced my soul... Such strength...these links that bound us all...I felt them being played like a graceful harp and I could only lift my head to the chaotic heavens above and hum softly until the rush of warmth soothed itself. As it did, I could feel my children within my very being.
They pulsed in time with the heart in my chest.... they breathed as I did...And I...I only felt the purest of rapture as my children so willingly joined me to ripple the waves of darkness that that begun to bud in this realm.
Yes....They would...
Through my claws they could strike down the madness that split the winds at the seams.
Through my voice, they could sing the fire back to his gentle slumber.
Through my wings, they could caress the shaking waters of the Father and sooth his greatest fears.
And, with a gentle kiss, ease the painful wounds our Mother Gaia had inflicted upon herself.
When the four great ties had been rewoven, Chaos would be forced back from his moment of madness...brought back to his soothing, gentle self....For darkness was not destruction, nor did he wield the reaper's blade of death...Chaos was our Grandfather: he gave life to our mothers and Fathers, our Brothers and Sisters...He is Creation itself....
As Grandfather faded back to his gentle slumber, I listened...and crooned as the memories of before time were given to me by the children that sang, that danced, that laughed...unseen by all...save for the one they called "Mother"...
I do not know how...nor do I know why I received this glorious gift. I do not know why the spirits of past, present, and the future can whisper to me...use my tongue as their own, use my wings as their own, nor why they view the world through my mortal eyes. I have never questioned this gift given so willingly by My Mothers and My Fathers...perhaps; even Grandfather had a hand with this...
Will I find that answer? Hm...Perhaps...but my children are not saying. I am sure though...
Chronos will reveal the answer to us all, as the seasons pass one by one...
One, two, three, four...
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...
Earth, Fire, Wind, Water...
Yes, the web that links us all by the soul will tell us soon.
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Posted: Thu Apr 23, 2009 4:20 pm
Username: Zactura
Painter’s name: Teance
Temper: Complex
Prompt:
There are many of us, each one melded from the ancient tears of time and fused together to become something more. We, who cannot call ourselves only one, are the end product of it all. We were made for a purpose, though that will, in time, be lost when it is all over.
We remember the day of our rebirth. The bellowing shout of the Great Ones, the Elementals, brought us tattered souls together, and we cowered beneath their steely gazes as they summoned us from the far corners of Hal'ia, and they spun us together into one, forcing us together with their elements until we were separate no more. It was something we had not foreseen, and some of us wept with the deepest sorrow born of many years of death. Others were rejoicing for a new chance at life, shedding tears of joy. These tears pooled at our heart and erupted into the Light that we swirl around us to this day. At first, it was a weak Light, and some of the other Great Ones scoffed at it, scorned the shining ember of the first thing we had made with our new body. We knew their thoughts, though they did not say anything to us. They wondered why they had been given one so new, one so lacking in strength when such a time was upon us. There was no way we could show them otherwise, not with our weak and tender body still quivering from the intensity of the Spinning. At first, there were some of us that rebelled, and they mewled their cries of rage, their voices now robbed of strength, into our collective mind. Some of us went mad in this prison of flesh, bone, and blood, while still others ceased to be. We felt the loss of those most keenly, the pain like a slicing blade through the thin silk of our being.
The Great Ones taught us to be strong, told us of what we needed to do. We dared not defy them, they who had brought us together and melded us into one. They were much too fearsome, much too powerful. We could do nothing as we were slowly hammered into the shape they needed. We only followed their orders, waiting silently for the time when we could be our own, when we could be ourselves without the need for their support. They may have remade us, they may have shown us the Way, but we that dissent are too many to be shut out. We must leave them, we must find our own Way.
As we grew, so did the Light we bore. From its original dull state, it developed into an awe-inspiring radiance that told of our strength. Those few Great Ones that had at first laughed now were wary of us, wary of what our fragile mind could concoct, wary of our growing strength. Soon we were on the same level as they, and then we surpassed them. They then looked upon us with fear, and the Cruel Ones among us grinned with the wicked taint of their darkened souls. They laughed at the fear we struck into the hearts of those that we opposed, with our Light blinding them and our talons striking them down. A few of the Cruel Ones took the spirits of those that fell and wound them into ourselves, and as thus, we prospered off of the deaths of others. The other Great Ones were not pleased, and they banished the Cruel Ones from our body. They slunk back into the shadows as we comforted the new spirits inside us, a few of them still screaming from the shock of death. Some of these went to the shadowed solace of insanity, hiding deep within its bowels until we could hear them no more. There was nothing we could do, though we tried. By the Great Ones, we tried.
All that we are, all that we will be, and all that we have ever been is an elegant eldritch creature, crafted from the tortured souls of many as they wandered the world. We have been called monster by those inside of us. We have been called many things. Together we are all, separate, we are none. Some of us think that we were created this way for a reason; so that the Great Ones could control us. Instead of being whole, one, we are fractured, many. Is that any way for a creature to live, with a countless array of voices screaming inside their head? No. That is not how we should be.
The Great Ones think that we are their obedient warrior, fighting for them and believing all that they tell us to. In reality, we believe differently. We do not wish to be under their control any longer. We wish for our own life, a life where we can learn to be whole. The life we live now cannot truly be called one, as we are always fighting, always driving others mad. It is not a life that we wish to live, and so we seek our unmaking. We chase after every opportunity of the Breaking, when we will all be returned to our separate selves. How we are now is not a life. It is a madness, one that we weep to be trapped in. We cannot follow the Great Ones until we are whole, one. We are separate and fractured, being many spirits wound into one body.
No, we must be separate. They cannot hold us forever.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 4:44 pm
Username: Milorganite
Painter’s name: Jeanne
Temper: righteous
Prompt: There are stories about you, myths that only the wise or foolish speak with any air of certainty. They say you can be found in everything, that you are timeless as the rocks and as fleeting as chaff in the fire. They say you have come, or did come, or will come, in the guise of a warrior, an old woman, the wolf, the whale, a white horse--or was it a pale one?
When trouble comes, more believe in you; they speak to where they think you live in the sky, pleading for help. Others know a little better; they look for you in the rocks and the earth, where Spirit hums oldest and strongest.
You rarely come. You laugh at those short-sighted enough to think you will. You are immortal, and perhaps omnipotent, yet your timeless nature keeps you from using your powers. You have not existed forever, and you were certainly not the one to set the universe's dance into motion, but you watch each turn with your own joyful movements. You are in everything, and you never end.
A child is born in blood. A man dies in blood. Each event, simply a cog in a great spinning wheel. You watch and revel in both.
So when your cousins and brothers and sisters begin to take on mortal skins, you laugh, amused by their game. Amused that they have listened to the pleadings of those who cry out against "darkness," when you know that all darkness and light come together in the great dance. You let these lesser brethren play for now, and go about your business.
Traveling, you find the darkness spoken of. You reach with claws and laughter, wanting to inspect it. Will it bring death and destruction? Neither are evil, not to you; they bring you strength. Death and destruction can only be followed by rebirth.
The darkness recoils. You wait, watching where it hides. Time means nothing. Pleasure is everything. Pleasure in the waiting. Pleasure in the game. And then, finally, tendrils reach out, out into the universe. You watch.
Death and destruction does not come. Nothingness comes. A pit in your own existence. Pleasure is replaced by pain. Suddenly, you know this is the real darkness, something that comes only to end the eternal cycle. In all your eternal knowledge, you are last to see. You give a cry that makes stars tremble and only then do you really listen. To your brothers and sisters and cousins, to the mortals who have called them. You shudder and feel new wings; you drape yourself in the glories of the sky and the metals of the earth and, yes, in blood, too. You see now why the fight must take place. It can only be hoped that you saw soon enough.
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Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2009 8:20 pm
Username: xxblindartistxx
Painter’s name: Soul
Temper: Watchful Guardian
Prompt:
Even before my mortal birth, the need for a champion had been pressing on my soul. It burdened all immortals. The rocks, the trees, the water, the wind, the fire below, and the mortals of Hal'ia cried out in fear. Thus, the elements began to emerge in mortal form to serve as protectors. They paid a great price.
I didn't want to go. I knew not what this darkness was, but I didn't want leave the safety and comfort of nirvana. Truth be told, I was as scared as the mortals were.
Regardless, I was summoned just the same. It had been violent, as if the need for me had been urgent. I was born as a Sandpainter, the most gifted of all creatures inhabitating Hal'ia and the creation of one of my kindred spirits. The minute I first blinked my eyes and took in air as the mortals do, I felt their pain, their fear, their despair, their pleas and their prayers. It was too much for me to take and I collapsed.
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I was awoken by curious sensation in my nose. (I had a nose!) Scent. Fragrant and delicious scents tickled my nostrils. I suddenly realized that I had great thirst and hunger. These sensations were new and confusing to me. I hadn't need for these as an immortal. How long I had been asleep I knew not, but when I blinked open my sleep crusted eyes I awoke to see a plate of food and a bowl of water generously laid out for me. Curious.
I wasted no time in eating and drinking what was laid before me and my need was satiated. When I finished I realized that I was not alone. I glanced up wearily to see another watching me. A Sandpainter, a young lass.
"Whoo," I asked, but my voice cracked and I coughed. Discovered, the child grew wide-eyed and started to creep back into the forest.
"No wait," I managed to sputter. "Did you bring me this food?" The child nodded.
"What's your name," I asked.
"Tala," she replied.
"Thank you...Tala..." I blacked out again. To weak to exchange further.
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This would be the begining of our friendship. From that day on and for many months after, Tala brought me food, water, and provided me with her company. I appreciated her companionship and for a while, I forgot my purpose or the trouble that in existed in this world. What was there to worry about? The glade where I was born and had yet to leave was beautiful and provided me with ample comfort. There was no evil here. There was only the forest creatures and Tala's daily visits.
I didn't know very much about Tala. I knew that she lived in nearby village and was the youngest daughter of the village shaman. She definatley had the mind of the philospher with her observant and curious ways. Intelligent for a child. She seemed curious about my ability to control all elements. In fact she seemed curious about me in general. If she knew more about me then I did, she didn't let on.
It wasn't until later that Tala confronted me about what she knew. It was no different then any other day. She brought me food and water as usual. Instead of our usual meal-time conversation, she was very quiet in thought. I was confused and asked her why didn't she speak.
"Why do you not speak child," I asked.
She didn't asnwer for a few minutes, but finally replied, "Do you know what you are?"
"What?"
"Do know what you are," she repeated.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"ARRGH," Tala roared in frustration. "Soul have you yet to understand what you are!? You are the avatar of spirit!"
I grew silent. Many legends were passed among the mortals concerning the avatar of spirit. A mythical figure said to posess the powers of all elements. The avatar hears their voices and act in their wishes. A figure who had the potentiol to be a savior.
"Soul, I still don't understand," Tala continued. "Why do you not join your kin? Why don't you fight like they do for the preservation of all things?
I glanced away in shame and replied, "I don't know if I believe in this evil you mortals fret about like nesting mother birds. Why should I prepare myself to fight something I have to encounter?" A brilliant cover for my own fear and shame.
"I can not pretend to understand it either," she replied with a sigh, "but I do know that something is wrong. All creatures are preparing to act. Why aren't you?"
"Begone with you. I don't need to explain my motives to a child."
I glance up to see tears in her eyes. She trotted away without another word. Reluctantly, I curled up to lay alone with my thoughts.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------As when I was first born, I awoken by nose. Animals scattered as smoke drifted throughout the forest and the smell of fire and fear were evident. The smoke and scent drifted from the north toward the path that Tala usually took.
"No," I murmured to no one in particular. I stretched out my wings in preperation of my first flight as a mortal and the joints creaked with disuse.
"Let the winds guide me safetly," I prayed to the skies and the breeze picked up response.
Soon I was gliding upon the air currents. It would have been exhilirating if fear and worry hadn't drowned out other motions. I followed the smoke to the village I presumed to be Tala's. It was on fire.
I landed in the center of the village and screamed for survivors. Yet no matter how hard I screamed noone answered. The village was littered with bodies, mutilated in the worst ways imaginable. One by one houses collapsed into inferno. If I could just find her, alive, I could find some comfort.
I finally found her, but my heart nearly gave out in shock. Her beautiful body was mutilated, almost beyond recognition. She was on the outskirts of the village. Almost as if she had been running to me. For my help.
I screamed my pain to heavens. Tala, these villagers, they had been my responsibility and I had failed them. I could have protected them. I could have protected her. Instead I had selfishly hid away in fear. No more. I now knew what was at stake... What could be lost...
I will protect.
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