Her body felt heavy, her head light, when before it had been the other way around. There were so many things that she was still trying to come to terms with and she could not make heads or tails of any of them. From time to time a specific memory would flicker through her thoughts like a movie being projected up onto a screen. Occasionally there would be words, whispers, a specific laugh... And then there was silence.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Nothing made sense and yet... There was something important. Something that she knew. She had been a part of something, hadn't she? It had taken a part of her, but it had been for a good cause, hadn't it? It was important. She was a hero.
... Wasn't she?
-- "Who do you think you are?"
The whispered voice tickled her ear and she opened her eyes, glancing around. There was nothing. No one. She was the only one there, and yet...
-- "Look at your shadow."
Swallowing back any semblance of fear or hesitation, Aldara's eyes drifted downward as the voice had directed her, falling upon the form of her shadow. There was something different about the image that was cast upon the ground ahead of her; possibly something with whatever light was shining upon her to throw the shadow forward, or possibly something else. Something more.
As she thought on the matter her shadow began to solidify and she began to think. Maybe... Maybe this shadow on the ground was not hers. Maybe it did not belong to her. It certainly didn't seem like one that she remembered.
Even as those thoughts continued to cross through her mind the shadow continued to grow in size and brightness, the figure clearly armored and holding a great, familiar sword.
"Your have forgotten something. Memories. I borrowed those from you and now you have my word I will return them. You are bound perhaps for greatness. Take these memories and become more than you ever were, greater than you can possible imagine. As long as there are still heroes in this world, as long as someone calls for me, for the need to Protect this world, I will be there."
As the knightly shadow addressed her a lock manifested; basic in shape but ornately detailed upon second glance, connecting several chains together. A gentle, blue glow emanated from the lock, adding an enchanting aura to its overall appearance. It was enough to entice the harpy ghoul into thinking it was something good even if she did not entirely understand it or how it had become a part of her... But it was, and it would be, until she could reclaim all that she had lost; all that had once been hers.
OOC
The Lock
A lock has manifested in your character's form (you can choose where you want to keep the lock. It glows a gentle blue. When your character has regained all their discarded memories (from part 1 of the finale), using the conditions of the above artifact, the lock will finally detach itself, breaking away. The size and shape of the lock depends on the weapon your character carried in the meta (the final weapon). If your weapon was a COMMON weapon, it is the most basic shape. An UNCOMMON weapon has the basic shape and a chain. A RARE weapon has the basic shape, with a few ornate symbols representing the memories you gave away, and several chains around it.Final Weapon Equip
Memories Forgotten
One memory snippet for each Greater Blessing - [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]
Minor Blessings
Three Blue - Defensive :: [x] Three Green - Creative :: [x] Three White - Sad :: [x] Three black - Vengeful :: [x] Three violet - Reproachful :: [x]
Posted: Thu Jun 19, 2014 4:18 pm
Minor Blessings
[ Defensive ]
"I'm not short... And I'm not useless and my father was more than a no-good thieving magpie!" She snapped as she stormed out of the room in a fury of feathers.
There was rarely, if ever, anything good about visiting her maternal grandmother. The matriarch of her mother's clan was a monster in every sense of the word and being anywhere near her always set *** on edge. She went in to each encounter expecting the worst and still came out with her feathers ruffled and her defenses raised.
One day... One day she would be able to stand up to her properly, though. One day she would have a better grasp on what words to use to guard her heart from being hurt by the elder harpy's disapproval. One day...
[ Creative ]
*** had spent the day down at the seaside again, using her sharp eye to catch any shine or glimmer in the sand to add to her collection. She walked away with several new shells and a few pebbles and bits of glass that had been worn smooth by the waves.
That night she sat in her room by the light of the lantern hanging above her desk to work on something special. She picked out only the nicest things from her collection; things that seemed to give off both strength and beauty. *** was going to make a bracelet for Aleka to match her own; a friendship bracelet.
[ Sad ]
It was the first night that she had spent completely alone. When she had been small there had been the other fledgelings in her rookery. Even when she had outgrown that, welcomed back to her family home, there had been the knowledge that there was someone right down the hall... Or even that Aleka had promised to come visit that night so they could trade stories while curled up in her nest or sneak out to train late beneath the moon.
She was completely alone here.
Her fingers brushed along the woven leather bracelet bound around her wrist. She thought of the night she had made it, and then back to the night that she had made its companion. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to bury her head against her pillow. "I hate this place... I'll never belong here..."
Her words were half-hearted; cracked with sadness and loss. That night *** was only relieved to be alone because it meant that no one could hear her crying.
[ Vengeful ]
*** swept one of the training staffs into her hand, gaze cold and hard. Lips curled in a snarl as she lunged forward, taking out every bit of frustration that she had on one of the training dummies. Every day... Every day...
In her mind's eye there was a face on the dummy. She began to hit it harder, working through a routine of moves that she had memorized as though they were little more than a dance. Why couldn't she do this in front of the others when it mattered. Why?
Letting out another furious shriek she brought the staff down, met with the sound of a loud crack as the staff split, splintering into pieces around her. Her only lingering thought was the wish that it hadn't been the dummy that she had just brutalized; that it had, instead, been the one that had filled her with the rage that had incited the attack.
[ Reproachful ]
"Do you have any idea what you've just done? Any idea at all what it's going to take to reschedule another gathering like that? They might not even give us another chance, ***. What were you thinking?"
What were you thinking? That was always the question her mother asked when she did something that the elder harpy did not approve of. *** did not know why when the obvious answer was that she had not been thinking.
If she had she might have done things differently. If she had she might not have done anything at all. "M'sorry, mother..." She muttered softly.
"No, you aren't. Not properly so, at least... But you will be."
"***, there is something I need to speak with you about." The tone of her mother's voice made it clear that she was not going to accept 'no' or 'go away' as an answer. The elder harpy let herself in seconds later.
"We received an important piece of mail today, ***." Her head tilted slightly and she watched as clawed fingers set a letter bearing the seal of Amityville Academy down on the nightstand by her bed. "They have accepted your application. Pack your bags, you'll be leaving in the morning."
Her eyes closed tightly as she turned her head away, burying her face in the pillow beneath it. The silence lingered for a moment, creating even more of a chasm between them. Her mother left, the door shut... And *** cried.
[ The Great ] - Memory Regained
It had been a week, maybe two, since her first failed attempt at flight in front of her class. They had all been gathered again, lectured, threatened, set up to fail... But not her. Not this time.
This time, *** was certain that she was going to shine. She stepped out on to the ledge, took a deep breath and jumped...
[ The Strong ]
The gnome standing guard over this particular carnival game seemed bored, to say the very least. Up until the moment that she had stepped up to the plate, fingers wrapping around the handle of the over-sized mallet, he looked as though he might fall asleep. He watched, though, as she stepped up to take a swing.
The first swing was a complete disappointment and earned her a heckle.
The second, well, after the second attempt the gnome resorted to throwing popcorn.
*** muttered several incredibly un-ladylike curses beneath her breath, feeding frustration into her final swing, giving it all the strength she had...
DING!
[ The Gifted ]
"You've got a real talent for that, you know." The voice startled her but she managed not to let it show, beyond a few ruffled feathers. It was annoying that she could hear the smirk in the other ghoul's voice when she spoke again. Aleka had caught the ruffled feathers.
"I envy the way you work with your hands. I can't even weave nets the way you make bracelets..." *** shifted as her friend took a seat beside her, peering at the bracelet that she was weaving out of leather, accenting it with small things they had found on the beach the day before; shiny shards of shell and wave-worn pebbles.
"Will you make me one some day, ***?"
[ The Hopeful ]
Amityville Academy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she wouldn't hate it so much. Maybe she wouldn't cry. Maybe she would make new friends. Maybe people would like her for who she was.
Maybe she would be able to show them that she didn't need to change to be the monster that she was born to be.
