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MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - bubblegum - 01-02-2021
DEAR FRIEND as you know, your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
*tldr at bottom
It had been loud, so overwhelmingly victorious. The final moment had come; the snake pinned down, scimitar aligned for the final blow. If she were to cut off his head, she wonders, would he grow two more? Well, she wouldn't find out. Her sword makes contact, dives in, but he had managed one final attempt. And her body was flung backwards, head first, making contact with the Earth. And suddenly it had all been over, just like that.
There had once been a woman.
A captain, once angry, once so sadly sick, once so grand and rich, so beaten, so powerful, so alive.
"I am Goldenluxury Roux," she had declared, loudly, confidently. For this was something she had known, and known well; she was Goldenluxury Roux, the daughter of Pincher Roux and Guru. She was a sister, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. She was the future of her home, the future of her family, and the future of her own life. So it had seemed, at least. But the future was fickle, as was past, present, and everything in between. A lifetime filled with all it had to offer.
She had lived and died by the sea, to the Gods above and below, to the forces around, and the world she was kin to.
To the chains that had held her so tightly, the noise that enjoyed to make its stay in her mind every so often, to the oppressive nature of living and breathing. And she demanded, loudly, violently, that it would be silenced. That she may not be held so tightly. That the freedom of her, her family, and any other, was not something someone may take away so easily. That the serpent that tried to take her, convince her she was wrong, make her think she was to blame, that her mother deserved to die, that she deserved the same fate, that she had blood on her paws that could never be cleaned. And in a sense, he may have been right. But none of that had mattered, because fundamentally, he had been wrong. He could not fix her, not offer the correct punishment to whatever crimes her child mind had brought her to, because he was far too guilty on his own end to offer such a morality. He was a serpent, binding the freedom that'd belonged to others as a birthright, and claiming it, along with their minds, for his own bidding. And that was not to be accepted by a pirate, much less the heiress to them, to their future.
He'd tried to take that away from her, hide away her memories, take away the daughter of the sea. But she had been more than that. Just a girl, with no memories, and a broken body, but she had a home. A family. Freedom. And inside, a deep, ever-growing fire burned. To make his life living Hell first. And then it would be time, to show him. He'd failed. He was wrong all along, and would die a failure. Those he would hold in his grasp would never have to worry again. That was the captain's desire, and that was the ultimate purpose of her hunt.
And she was stubborn, she would not give up despite his evasion. She would not believe his death until she saw it with her own two eyes. To be presented his living, breathing body two years later was almost a relief. No matter the circumstance. This encounter had been long since delayed. And things had been far too quiet, for too long. The female knew that she was a high target, that someone would always try to kill her. It was just a matter of when they'd show up. There was no waste in the ambush, no matter how she may have lost then. Her message had been sent, hunt had been spread, and they would know their purpose as well as she had.
If that had been the end for her, that would have been alright.
She'd have desired a different death, she would describe it worse than both drowning and burning, of which she'd experienced first-hand. But it would have been the way things were supposed to go, and she'd have fulfilled her duty. She'd brought freedom, she'd lead her family, her crew, and she'd raised her children the only way she knew how. What more could she ask, other than the death of the snake? Nothing more at all. And if she were to go with an incomplete bucket list, she would have at least had the reassurance her crew would follow her final wish. She knew they would have.
But things hadn't ended there. And life continued, much to her surprise. Though she'd tried not to feel too shocked by anything anymore. She'd lived through enough to know that life was simply and ultimately not something she could predict perfectly, no matter how many plans she may create for however many possibilities her mind could craft.
Ultimately, the deed had been complete.
Deep, deep down, a lotus flower sinks. Slowly it drifts, pressure increasing, darkness growing. The fish pass along, souls watch in a silent grief, a serpent rumbled deep in the distance. A hand reaches from below, a wordless invitation that'd been sent out too soon, too early. As much as she'd convinced herself that time was too limited, that any day could very well be the last, and that she'd cheated it twice already, this was not yet her time. Too swift did the cuts, the cracks break through, chaotic and imperfect. And much to the hand's dismay, the grief was premature. Still, one, two, count them, a few strings held on. The majority of the intricate knots had been all cut through, sliced away. And just barely does the thread, worked so delicately, holds on. And the lotus remains attached despite.
Though, that did not mean all was as it had been. The fates had decided this, that she would not die yet.
A flower known to grow in even the most muddled waters, held on in its withered, wilted state, desperately to the last few strings that hold it together. Petals lost, leaves fallen off, something that would certainly point towards only one final fate in not much time. Kept with no sunlight, no soothing ripples of the water, no signs of life at all. Just depravation, and darkness, and death. One had to question what could keep it holding on so tightly. How it still prevailed, how it still fought even after being beaten down after such an experience time and time again, only to be knocked to the side, the grip of finality so tight. How could something in such a sick state take any more hits, and still make it?
Perhaps it was simply by design, and a sprinkle of luck. Perhaps the thread had been woven tighter, stronger, specifically meant for this time and place that she may find herself in. She'd always been one for planning, though this entire situation was much beyond her own control. This lied in the hands of those who held much more power than she ever would or could. They made the choice for her here, and if she were aware of it, she would probably be thankful, that they would allow her more time.
But she would not be aware, she would not know at all of the time she had, or the time she will be given. She does not know the feelings, the experiences. The serpent that she'd vanquished - it had truly been done, but not without cost. Nothing in life was free, after all. And the victory, the long awaited end to her hunt could not be a victory she may celebrate, for she'd not know what it was she would be celebrating.
A lifetime stolen and returned, only to be stolen once more, with no promise, no sign now. Hands from above slowly, gently reach towards the flower, cupping her in their large grasp. Slowly, they begin to pull her upwards, begin to bring her back towards a light - one she'd seen before, though she'd no knowledge of it now. "Sweet child," they would call to her. She could offer no response, for she was simply a wilted flower, sunken and barely holding on. "You are confused. Your name is Goldenluxury Roux, you are the demigoddess of raging storms. We are here to help you, if you will only listen, when it is time."
Goldenluxury Roux was many things, held many meanings, and she'd no idea.
"But, now, you must wake up."
But she was Goldenluxury Roux, the demigoddess of raging storms. The Gods have declared it so.
And thus, the woman opens her eyes, slowly, light blinding her sensitive eyes, head throbbing, and mouth moving to let out a high-pitched cry of pain. Consciousness slowly took over, a buzzing mind, a single offering of knowledge in her loss, and a feeling of nausea taking place. Though she wouldn't know it, it'd been several days since the raid now, and the first time she's awoken since. She wouldn't know anything about it in the slightest, in fact.
*tldr: goldie successfully killed stryker in the raid thread, however in the process he managed to get one final blow on her, causing her to knock her head and suffer a severe concussion. this results in her staying in the temple unconscious for several days, and she's just now woken up, letting out a noise in response to the pain from her head.
It had been loud, so overwhelmingly victorious. The final moment had come; the snake pinned down, scimitar aligned for the final blow. If she were to cut off his head, she wonders, would he grow two more? Well, she wouldn't find out. Her sword makes contact, dives in, but he had managed one final attempt. And her body was flung backwards, head first, making contact with the Earth. And suddenly it had all been over, just like that.
There had once been a woman.
A captain, once angry, once so sadly sick, once so grand and rich, so beaten, so powerful, so alive.
"I am Goldenluxury Roux," she had declared, loudly, confidently. For this was something she had known, and known well; she was Goldenluxury Roux, the daughter of Pincher Roux and Guru. She was a sister, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. She was the future of her home, the future of her family, and the future of her own life. So it had seemed, at least. But the future was fickle, as was past, present, and everything in between. A lifetime filled with all it had to offer.
She had lived and died by the sea, to the Gods above and below, to the forces around, and the world she was kin to.
To the chains that had held her so tightly, the noise that enjoyed to make its stay in her mind every so often, to the oppressive nature of living and breathing. And she demanded, loudly, violently, that it would be silenced. That she may not be held so tightly. That the freedom of her, her family, and any other, was not something someone may take away so easily. That the serpent that tried to take her, convince her she was wrong, make her think she was to blame, that her mother deserved to die, that she deserved the same fate, that she had blood on her paws that could never be cleaned. And in a sense, he may have been right. But none of that had mattered, because fundamentally, he had been wrong. He could not fix her, not offer the correct punishment to whatever crimes her child mind had brought her to, because he was far too guilty on his own end to offer such a morality. He was a serpent, binding the freedom that'd belonged to others as a birthright, and claiming it, along with their minds, for his own bidding. And that was not to be accepted by a pirate, much less the heiress to them, to their future.
He'd tried to take that away from her, hide away her memories, take away the daughter of the sea. But she had been more than that. Just a girl, with no memories, and a broken body, but she had a home. A family. Freedom. And inside, a deep, ever-growing fire burned. To make his life living Hell first. And then it would be time, to show him. He'd failed. He was wrong all along, and would die a failure. Those he would hold in his grasp would never have to worry again. That was the captain's desire, and that was the ultimate purpose of her hunt.
And she was stubborn, she would not give up despite his evasion. She would not believe his death until she saw it with her own two eyes. To be presented his living, breathing body two years later was almost a relief. No matter the circumstance. This encounter had been long since delayed. And things had been far too quiet, for too long. The female knew that she was a high target, that someone would always try to kill her. It was just a matter of when they'd show up. There was no waste in the ambush, no matter how she may have lost then. Her message had been sent, hunt had been spread, and they would know their purpose as well as she had.
If that had been the end for her, that would have been alright.
She'd have desired a different death, she would describe it worse than both drowning and burning, of which she'd experienced first-hand. But it would have been the way things were supposed to go, and she'd have fulfilled her duty. She'd brought freedom, she'd lead her family, her crew, and she'd raised her children the only way she knew how. What more could she ask, other than the death of the snake? Nothing more at all. And if she were to go with an incomplete bucket list, she would have at least had the reassurance her crew would follow her final wish. She knew they would have.
But things hadn't ended there. And life continued, much to her surprise. Though she'd tried not to feel too shocked by anything anymore. She'd lived through enough to know that life was simply and ultimately not something she could predict perfectly, no matter how many plans she may create for however many possibilities her mind could craft.
Ultimately, the deed had been complete.
Deep, deep down, a lotus flower sinks. Slowly it drifts, pressure increasing, darkness growing. The fish pass along, souls watch in a silent grief, a serpent rumbled deep in the distance. A hand reaches from below, a wordless invitation that'd been sent out too soon, too early. As much as she'd convinced herself that time was too limited, that any day could very well be the last, and that she'd cheated it twice already, this was not yet her time. Too swift did the cuts, the cracks break through, chaotic and imperfect. And much to the hand's dismay, the grief was premature. Still, one, two, count them, a few strings held on. The majority of the intricate knots had been all cut through, sliced away. And just barely does the thread, worked so delicately, holds on. And the lotus remains attached despite.
Though, that did not mean all was as it had been. The fates had decided this, that she would not die yet.
A flower known to grow in even the most muddled waters, held on in its withered, wilted state, desperately to the last few strings that hold it together. Petals lost, leaves fallen off, something that would certainly point towards only one final fate in not much time. Kept with no sunlight, no soothing ripples of the water, no signs of life at all. Just depravation, and darkness, and death. One had to question what could keep it holding on so tightly. How it still prevailed, how it still fought even after being beaten down after such an experience time and time again, only to be knocked to the side, the grip of finality so tight. How could something in such a sick state take any more hits, and still make it?
Perhaps it was simply by design, and a sprinkle of luck. Perhaps the thread had been woven tighter, stronger, specifically meant for this time and place that she may find herself in. She'd always been one for planning, though this entire situation was much beyond her own control. This lied in the hands of those who held much more power than she ever would or could. They made the choice for her here, and if she were aware of it, she would probably be thankful, that they would allow her more time.
But she would not be aware, she would not know at all of the time she had, or the time she will be given. She does not know the feelings, the experiences. The serpent that she'd vanquished - it had truly been done, but not without cost. Nothing in life was free, after all. And the victory, the long awaited end to her hunt could not be a victory she may celebrate, for she'd not know what it was she would be celebrating.
A lifetime stolen and returned, only to be stolen once more, with no promise, no sign now. Hands from above slowly, gently reach towards the flower, cupping her in their large grasp. Slowly, they begin to pull her upwards, begin to bring her back towards a light - one she'd seen before, though she'd no knowledge of it now. "Sweet child," they would call to her. She could offer no response, for she was simply a wilted flower, sunken and barely holding on. "You are confused. Your name is Goldenluxury Roux, you are the demigoddess of raging storms. We are here to help you, if you will only listen, when it is time."
Goldenluxury Roux was many things, held many meanings, and she'd no idea.
"But, now, you must wake up."
But she was Goldenluxury Roux, the demigoddess of raging storms. The Gods have declared it so.
And thus, the woman opens her eyes, slowly, light blinding her sensitive eyes, head throbbing, and mouth moving to let out a high-pitched cry of pain. Consciousness slowly took over, a buzzing mind, a single offering of knowledge in her loss, and a feeling of nausea taking place. Though she wouldn't know it, it'd been several days since the raid now, and the first time she's awoken since. She wouldn't know anything about it in the slightest, in fact.
*tldr: goldie successfully killed stryker in the raid thread, however in the process he managed to get one final blow on her, causing her to knock her head and suffer a severe concussion. this results in her staying in the temple unconscious for several days, and she's just now woken up, letting out a noise in response to the pain from her head.
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - roan ; - 01-02-2021
SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON
Wake up. It was a simple mantra that had been repeating in Roan's head ever since the raid, cold blue eyes focused on Goldie's unmoving body, save for the occasional shift of breath. His head was chanting, so loudly that it nearly drowned out all other rational thought, practically driving the soothsayer mad – wake up, wake up, wake UP. Along with the chanting came a plethora of questions, the young medic questioning what exactly it was that he was doing wrong. Why was it that she was taking so long to wake up? She had hit her head pretty hard, yes, but she had been through worse than that, so why wasn't she awake? Why wasn't she already up celebrating with all of them over the death of that damned snake? He spent hours pondering those questions over and over again, paws practically wearing a trail on the temple floor as he paced around in circles. Every second that wasn't occupied with checking Goldie's breath or dealing with another patient were dedicated to just worrying. Worrying about Goldie's head. Worrying about when she would finally wake up. Worrying about what state she would be in when she did wake up. The anxiety would've been nearly enough to cripple anybody else, but Roan had been living with it for so long that the blanket of terror felt almost natural.
Truthfully, he knew what he was going through at the moment was his own fault. He had pledged after Jaime died that he wouldn't allow himself to get close to anybody else. That way, he would never have to worry about losing someone that he loved so dearly again. However, there was a fatal flaw in his plan – his family. His mama, Diya, Goldie, his uncles, his siblings... they all already knew him. They knew the flaws in his armor, and he knew that he'd never be able to truly stop caring about them. Even with his recent frustrations at Eulia, he simply wasn't able to hate her, and he would never be able to. Which meant that it would be so much worse when she ended up disappearing, just like everybody else did. Just like Trygve and Jaime had. And now, here he was, spending every waking hour pacing in circles, fighting to stop his breath from becoming ragged as he waited for his cousin to awaken. He couldn't help but think about the fact that there was a chance she wouldn't awaken. There was a non-zero chance that she would succumb to her injuries, and end up leaving him, just like everyone else was bound to do. But when he thought about that, he began to feel a migraine come on, so he often avoided the subject. He couldn't afford to be in a weakened state – not when the Typhoon was still recovering, and not when Rosemary was around as well.
On the day that she would finally awakened, Roan had begun to feel his hope wavering. He still saw no signs of life coming from her, and the walls of the temple were beginning to feel as though they were suffocating him, rather than providing him with a sense of safety. Still, he wouldn't be able to bear it if he left and returned to her either passing away or waking up, so he had no choice but to stay. He let the stone walls wear away at his patience, his body feeling exhausted as he slowly moved to sort herbs. His supply of coffee from the tavern had been pretty consistent ever since the raid, but even that wasn't enough to fight against his current fatigue. As he moved over to one of the walls of the temple, he dug his claws sharply against the stone, wincing at the sense of pain that came with the movement. Despite this, he kept doing it, just to keep himself awake. He wouldn't be able to pass out if he kept up that little jolt of pain. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though he would have to for all that much longer. As he turned to return to his usual pacing pattern, the draconic feline found himself frozen. Goldie was shifting, and given the sharp intake of breath, it seemed as though she would be awakening very soon. Sure enough, it was only a few seconds before she opened her eyes, a high pitched and agonizing cry of pain leaving her and causing Roan to wince.
Quickly, the soothsayer sprinted over to the entrance of the temple, leaning his front out as he shouted into the open air, "MAMA! EVERYBODY! Goldie is awake!" That was all he left it at, unwilling to spare any more time away from his newly awakened cousin. He immediately turned and headed back inside, grabbing several different kinds of painkillers from their individual cubbies before he moved over to Goldie. Honestly, the captain didn't look all that much better then when she was asleep, but at least her eyes were open, and that was certainly enough for him. Taking in a slow and shuddering breath, Roan pushed the painkillers forward for her to eat, his voice ragged, "Here... eat these. They should help with your head... hopefully." It was hard for him to say for sure, considering the fact that concussions were extremely fickle beasts. There was no telling how much damage had been done from the initial impact, nor from the fact that she had slept for so agonizingly long. He hoped that her recovery would be a swift one, but the realist part of him – the larger part of him, really – knew that it more than likely wouldn't be. At least she would always have him around to offer his support.
Roan found that his own head was swimming as he took a couple of steps back from Goldie, unsure of what to say next, or how to proceed. He was undeniably emotional, the knot of anxiety that had been lingering in his chest for days lashing out and tearing up his insides. In spite of this, he was able to crack his jaws open, tone uneasy as he spoke to his cousin and friend, "Cousin Goldie... I'm so glad that you're awake. I wasn't... I wasn't sure when you would wake up. It's been days since the raid, and you didn't seem to be making any improvements, and I..." He trailed off, the knot in his chest making its way up to his traitorous throat. There was an unfamiliar sting in his eyes, and his neck breath came out as a sort of strangled laugh, the male scrubbing at his face frantically in an effort to make the pain fade. With his cheeks dampening and his chest threatening to heave him into his own temporary coma, Roan managed to choke out a few more words, "I wasn't... I w-w... I wasn't even sure you were going to wake up. I thought maybe... maybe we had lost you." With that, the siamese then turned his head, blinking away tears and trying his best to catch his own breath.
Truthfully, he knew what he was going through at the moment was his own fault. He had pledged after Jaime died that he wouldn't allow himself to get close to anybody else. That way, he would never have to worry about losing someone that he loved so dearly again. However, there was a fatal flaw in his plan – his family. His mama, Diya, Goldie, his uncles, his siblings... they all already knew him. They knew the flaws in his armor, and he knew that he'd never be able to truly stop caring about them. Even with his recent frustrations at Eulia, he simply wasn't able to hate her, and he would never be able to. Which meant that it would be so much worse when she ended up disappearing, just like everybody else did. Just like Trygve and Jaime had. And now, here he was, spending every waking hour pacing in circles, fighting to stop his breath from becoming ragged as he waited for his cousin to awaken. He couldn't help but think about the fact that there was a chance she wouldn't awaken. There was a non-zero chance that she would succumb to her injuries, and end up leaving him, just like everyone else was bound to do. But when he thought about that, he began to feel a migraine come on, so he often avoided the subject. He couldn't afford to be in a weakened state – not when the Typhoon was still recovering, and not when Rosemary was around as well.
On the day that she would finally awakened, Roan had begun to feel his hope wavering. He still saw no signs of life coming from her, and the walls of the temple were beginning to feel as though they were suffocating him, rather than providing him with a sense of safety. Still, he wouldn't be able to bear it if he left and returned to her either passing away or waking up, so he had no choice but to stay. He let the stone walls wear away at his patience, his body feeling exhausted as he slowly moved to sort herbs. His supply of coffee from the tavern had been pretty consistent ever since the raid, but even that wasn't enough to fight against his current fatigue. As he moved over to one of the walls of the temple, he dug his claws sharply against the stone, wincing at the sense of pain that came with the movement. Despite this, he kept doing it, just to keep himself awake. He wouldn't be able to pass out if he kept up that little jolt of pain. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though he would have to for all that much longer. As he turned to return to his usual pacing pattern, the draconic feline found himself frozen. Goldie was shifting, and given the sharp intake of breath, it seemed as though she would be awakening very soon. Sure enough, it was only a few seconds before she opened her eyes, a high pitched and agonizing cry of pain leaving her and causing Roan to wince.
Quickly, the soothsayer sprinted over to the entrance of the temple, leaning his front out as he shouted into the open air, "MAMA! EVERYBODY! Goldie is awake!" That was all he left it at, unwilling to spare any more time away from his newly awakened cousin. He immediately turned and headed back inside, grabbing several different kinds of painkillers from their individual cubbies before he moved over to Goldie. Honestly, the captain didn't look all that much better then when she was asleep, but at least her eyes were open, and that was certainly enough for him. Taking in a slow and shuddering breath, Roan pushed the painkillers forward for her to eat, his voice ragged, "Here... eat these. They should help with your head... hopefully." It was hard for him to say for sure, considering the fact that concussions were extremely fickle beasts. There was no telling how much damage had been done from the initial impact, nor from the fact that she had slept for so agonizingly long. He hoped that her recovery would be a swift one, but the realist part of him – the larger part of him, really – knew that it more than likely wouldn't be. At least she would always have him around to offer his support.
Roan found that his own head was swimming as he took a couple of steps back from Goldie, unsure of what to say next, or how to proceed. He was undeniably emotional, the knot of anxiety that had been lingering in his chest for days lashing out and tearing up his insides. In spite of this, he was able to crack his jaws open, tone uneasy as he spoke to his cousin and friend, "Cousin Goldie... I'm so glad that you're awake. I wasn't... I wasn't sure when you would wake up. It's been days since the raid, and you didn't seem to be making any improvements, and I..." He trailed off, the knot in his chest making its way up to his traitorous throat. There was an unfamiliar sting in his eyes, and his neck breath came out as a sort of strangled laugh, the male scrubbing at his face frantically in an effort to make the pain fade. With his cheeks dampening and his chest threatening to heave him into his own temporary coma, Roan managed to choke out a few more words, "I wasn't... I w-w... I wasn't even sure you were going to wake up. I thought maybe... maybe we had lost you." With that, the siamese then turned his head, blinking away tears and trying his best to catch his own breath.
DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
— Reggan
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - Seakit Roux. - 01-02-2021
IF MY LIFE IS GOING
TO MEAN ANYTHING,
I HAVE TO LIVE IT
MYSELF.
tiguar . adult . he/him
demigod of the deep
demigod of the deep
The demigod had remembered the surge of joy he felt upon seeing the snake's head be lopped off, and then the terror when his momma wouldn't get up. And continued to not get up. And kept not getting up. It went on, and on, and on, and on. He thought it would never end but, he knew, he had to hope she would come back. It had taken bartering with the Soothsayer to let him stay, but there was nothing that could come in between a boy and his momma. She was his whole world, his rock, and the one person that it would hurt to lose the most. He'd dealt with empty treehouses after roommates disappeared without a trace, siblings vanishing of the shores, and mothers succumbing to illnesses he couldn't understand. He couldn't loose Goldie too, he wouldn't be able to handle it.
Well kid, it's time to grow up and learn. Nothing stays, not even mothers. You'll be okay, just gotta learn.
The tiguar had been sleeping, his chin resting across his mother's hip as he waited for her to wake up. He'd been there for days, struggling to eat or drink, his mind too full of worry for Goldie. He ate when his stomach ached and drank when he felt his throat may crack, but only ever if something was brought to him. He slept a lot, out of Roan's way but close enough to be touching his mother. Once or twice a day, he would venture out to look for his siblings, only to find them still missing. He would return to the temple, return to the spot worn down in the stone by him.
The sound coming from his mother caused his head to raise, bi-colored eyes blinking blearily as he lifted his head and watched in confusion as Roan went running. It took a moment for the healer's words to process in his mind but, when they did, his head snapped towards her face. A gasp left him as he registered that she was finally awake. He didn't hesitate to stand, moving to press his forehead against her shoulder. "Momma, you're awake!" he cried softly, tears welling in his eyes and slowly beginning to slip down his face.
Well kid, it's time to grow up and learn. Nothing stays, not even mothers. You'll be okay, just gotta learn.
The tiguar had been sleeping, his chin resting across his mother's hip as he waited for her to wake up. He'd been there for days, struggling to eat or drink, his mind too full of worry for Goldie. He ate when his stomach ached and drank when he felt his throat may crack, but only ever if something was brought to him. He slept a lot, out of Roan's way but close enough to be touching his mother. Once or twice a day, he would venture out to look for his siblings, only to find them still missing. He would return to the temple, return to the spot worn down in the stone by him.
The sound coming from his mother caused his head to raise, bi-colored eyes blinking blearily as he lifted his head and watched in confusion as Roan went running. It took a moment for the healer's words to process in his mind but, when they did, his head snapped towards her face. A gasp left him as he registered that she was finally awake. He didn't hesitate to stand, moving to press his forehead against her shoulder. "Momma, you're awake!" he cried softly, tears welling in his eyes and slowly beginning to slip down his face.
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - riftweaver - 01-03-2021
[align=center]
RIFTWEAVER
[W]iskerRIFTWEAVER
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"]
Rift rushed after Seabound, his eyes wide. The male came to a stop beside his brother, pressing his nose to the older femme's cheek. "Welcome home, mama." he murmured softly, giving her a gentle nuzzle and lick.
//sorry for the short reply, I've got a migraine from hell so I'm about to pass out
-
Rift rushed after Seabound, his eyes wide. The male came to a stop beside his brother, pressing his nose to the older femme's cheek. "Welcome home, mama." he murmured softly, giving her a gentle nuzzle and lick.
//sorry for the short reply, I've got a migraine from hell so I'm about to pass out
-
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - Grimm - 01-03-2021
[div style="margin: auto; background-image: linear-gradient(to top left, #af6159 50%, #d69374 50%); max-width: 475px; height: auto; padding: 2%; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid;"][div style="margin: auto; background-color: #1d1d1d; max-width: 475px; color: #fefefe; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; border: 2px #1d1d1d solid; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Finite the time allotted, enclosed in beginning well defined, though recorded by hand different, and elusive the end, a mere thought aside brushed as though without may it all be. Yet it is there, always, the gentle beckoning, a caress against that which makes one an individual, marked in the quiet tick as seconds passed.
Pyrate held in shaking fists, all whitened knuckles and digging nails about which blood wells and whispers of an end that is predetermined, the hope of stolen or borrowed time.
Abstract once the notion, fleeting as it traced the hazey edge of thoughts once awash in gentle rose shimmer, naive a child free of all but the wonder such new splendour allowed. From her it taken, security removed in a simple flick of the wrist, destruction wrought in crumbling masonry. Held to was it, stubborn her need for such frivolous safety, transition stalled when whole were they made once more beneath the shroud of abyss kissed wings. Too short their time, all consuming the heat, fire that lapped at smouldering organs housed in a body split beneath emerging keratin. Given and taken, hope a jagged knife pressed into the chambers of her heart.
Taken such as best she proved capable, too fragile their connection to allow lengthy pain to sear newly constructed scars. The break was more cruel, his words spoken in the night she had decreed him to be, a loss that left her dry throat closing about each sob. What may she be without her noche, the cradle of safety she retreated to when all grew to much, the gilded cage she chose. Nothing. And thus she had become, numb to it all. More came, more went, faces lost among the dull memories that crowded her closed off mind, never allowed within in a way that proved meaningful.
Too short the time, her cage left behind, traded for a new one bearing copper and iron about which wound the serpentine usurper that deemed himself a king. A coward had she been, from battle shying without second thought, a spectre without purpose allowing her tears to flow. Results known, if not witnessed, spoken in tones hushed beneath the din. Celebration conducted and continued even as their captain lay, upon the brink suspended as life and death clamoured for that it felt owed, secure her in their thoughts, health wished for in toast. Little more they may do, and thus avoided the temple, a lone haven in the light and sound that circulated about the freed archipelago.
Away it all fell, leaden each step placed among foliage, undergrowth thick where boughs took hold in irregular formation. Desire to shift her trajectory, return among the faces where she may be reduced to but another stranger, grew potent. Errant joy rang through the still air, a poor backdrop as terrain slowly shifted, undergrowth falling away until pale stones poked through. Up her vision trailed, caught her breath as silhouette took shape through the trunks. Over shoulder diverted, final chance and the benefit of both weighed. Her family waited within walls of stone, present still in a heart encased in similar, anew begun a ragged ache that radiated out from her chest. A coward. All she was, caught in the throes of anxiety that rooted her within place, loose soil disturbed as the pale crescents of her claws dug shallow grooves.
Roan.
Harsh the ringing call he allowed to wash over the open land before stone structure, a summons that bore the torch that begun anew the hope once little more than dwindling embers. Roots ensnared and sought her fall, chest burning as pressure built. He could not wish for her presence, rejection assured before threshold may be crossed, yet such thought was a mere fly, nuisance flicked away. Momentum slowed as illumination grew dull, swallowed in entrance wide eyes flicked across, the voices, few and strained, filling ears before they flicked back to press against her skull. Hesitation marked her first step, settled against cool, polished stone, deep breath expanding chest. Herbs, dust, coffee. More beneath, yet it was there, apart of him.
"How is she." Strained the words Eulia spoke into the open space, no one individual sought for an answer. Yet she knew it must be him, eyes turning, the final remnants of his own voice guide. Mouth opened and closed, a war waged as her tongue was weighed down beneath so much she might say. I'm sorry. Tip of her tongue caught, ground against. Forward did she lean, moved to lightly press her chin against the space separating his horns, tail coiling loosely about his small figure. "You did a good job. She is alive because of you."
Roan alone those words for, the conclusion paired with her own departure, towards mother and sons trailing. To Gold she was not close, not as far as either, but still her heart ached, tears welling in eyes averted from the reunion. "It is good to see you awake, captain." Empty the remark she offered with a shaking voice, impersonal and thus lesser for it, but all Eulia could manage. Close did she lean, for a brief moment nose pressing between her shoulders. This completed back did she step, settling near Roan once more, allowed Gold her space.
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - trojan g. - 01-03-2021
[align=left]love, i don't like to see so much pain *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Torsten had heard about what had happened in the raid. He didn't know the full story, wasn't sure why there had even been a raid - he was blissfully unaware of so many things going on around him, which was probably for the best - but he had known that something bad had happened, but at the same time something good. Moods had been heightened by some, though the underlying worry lay thick in the air. If he had only been a little bit older, he would have understood that there had been a raid, there had been a takeover, there were bad people, and now one of the bad people were dead. He should have felt happy about that, but all of Typhoon had the worry hanging over their shoulders.
He understood some bad things, and though he hadn't fully understood why his cousin had been taken back home limp and seemingly lifeless, he had known that it was bad. Their leader wasn't waking up, and every day he thought about it, his chest tightened and confusion settled in. He knew the adults had gone off to fight, but was that something he would have to look forward to when he was their age? Coming back home and not waking up? When he heard the call from Roan, Torsten's thoughts were halted, and the tightness lifted, if only for a moment, before he ran to the temple.
"Goldie?" The child would speak out, ears pricked as he looked upon the other, "Goldie you're ok! You weren't awake and I didn't know what was going on, but you're awake now, so things are good right? You had a nice sleep?" He refrained from asking more questions. He knew that some didn't like so many coming their way, but he couldn't help but be excited by his cousin's being conscious once more.
He understood some bad things, and though he hadn't fully understood why his cousin had been taken back home limp and seemingly lifeless, he had known that it was bad. Their leader wasn't waking up, and every day he thought about it, his chest tightened and confusion settled in. He knew the adults had gone off to fight, but was that something he would have to look forward to when he was their age? Coming back home and not waking up? When he heard the call from Roan, Torsten's thoughts were halted, and the tightness lifted, if only for a moment, before he ran to the temple.
"Goldie?" The child would speak out, ears pricked as he looked upon the other, "Goldie you're ok! You weren't awake and I didn't know what was going on, but you're awake now, so things are good right? You had a nice sleep?" He refrained from asking more questions. He knew that some didn't like so many coming their way, but he couldn't help but be excited by his cousin's being conscious once more.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - bubblegum - 01-03-2021
DEAR FRIEND as you know, your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
but the clouds are clearing up
and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
like a bastard on the burning sea.
The first thing she's introduced to is the ringing, fuzzing in her ears. The pulsating from her head, and the muddled movement around her. Others were nearby, yelling something. Her name. Or, a nickname, it seemed. Some louder than others, some moved closer, stayed back. Words called out to her all at once, stirred around. And she would slightly open her eyes once more, blurred gaze making out the herbs in front of her maw, nose twitching. She shifts ever so slightly, a sharp pain shooting throughout her as she reaches for them. The tigress chews them, and closes her eyes once more, the light and movement too much at once to take in. What exact was being said to her, she struggled to make out, but there was a lot of it, all at once. Her body is tempted simply to succumb to the sleep once more, but it was much too loud, too uncomfortable.
For a few moments, before the medicine can start to kick in, the pain is all she can think of. Her head throbs, a steady beat pushing from her heart through her veins. She'd perhaps give in to the nausea, if she'd anything to get rid of in her body. But she didn't. So instead she could struggle to push past the feeling, the words, and the movement of everyone around her. Questions, they asked, and there was relief she could recognize. The voices had something homelike to them, but she could not pick up on why. Her brain was devoid of any reason, but pain. Was there any purpose to it at all? The voice before...it'd instructed her to listen. Perhaps, as the pain slowly begins its journey to easing, she will do such a thing. For now, it's all she really can do.
And so ever so slightly, each moment, the ringing begins to get quieter. And the throb begins to become a bit more manageable. And she's able to gently, slightly open her eyes, and look, really look. She tries to go over it all in her head. Goldie, they'd said, cousin, and there was the call of a mother, and then...a captain. A captain? Family? Her gaze travels down to the walls around her first. The stone, mixed with shelves of herbs she struggled to recognize. A large variety of sorts. An overwhelming amount of faces, staring down to her in worry, in relief. And her pained gaze felt far away, lost in them all. There was a seeming familiarity about them all but she couldn't quite recognize it, her brain fizzled and buzzed, trying to pull any information beyond the vague feeling. Tell her where she was, who these people were, who Goldenluxury Roux is. But it could not grasp at beyond to what it'd already done.
She remains quiet, still, unsure and lost on how she was to proceed. She was somebody, that much was evident by her surroundings. But who exactly that was, besides the answer of her name, her status with the Gods, could not be retrieved by her damaged head. It'd been lost somewhere, severed from its strings. The information it'd held once before had no room, was smashed away, and the empty space struggled to hold onto much at all. But, how she would respond, how she may speak up, it was unapparent. Perhaps it would be easier, to be silent, and let them believe she knew that she was apart of whatever club they so clearly shared, and exactly how she was apart of it. However, the truth was, she'd no idea. The flower's petals had fallen away, and she could not recall of what they even looked like.
"I..." comes her voice, finally. But it struggles, is weak, and shaky. Her throat is dry, struggling from lack of use. For some reason, her eyes seem to become watery, teary-eyed, and she can't figure out why. She was not sad. Not as far as she could tell, at least. Whatever part of her that may feel empathetic towards their reactions, that has already been through this once before, was nothing more than a feeling that she could not control now. And what question, what words, could possibly account for what she had to admit? Her struggling mind didn't know. There was only one thing, among all this, that it did know. "H-Hello, m' name...is Goldenluxury Roux."
"Can anyone tell me...where I am?"
For a few moments, before the medicine can start to kick in, the pain is all she can think of. Her head throbs, a steady beat pushing from her heart through her veins. She'd perhaps give in to the nausea, if she'd anything to get rid of in her body. But she didn't. So instead she could struggle to push past the feeling, the words, and the movement of everyone around her. Questions, they asked, and there was relief she could recognize. The voices had something homelike to them, but she could not pick up on why. Her brain was devoid of any reason, but pain. Was there any purpose to it at all? The voice before...it'd instructed her to listen. Perhaps, as the pain slowly begins its journey to easing, she will do such a thing. For now, it's all she really can do.
And so ever so slightly, each moment, the ringing begins to get quieter. And the throb begins to become a bit more manageable. And she's able to gently, slightly open her eyes, and look, really look. She tries to go over it all in her head. Goldie, they'd said, cousin, and there was the call of a mother, and then...a captain. A captain? Family? Her gaze travels down to the walls around her first. The stone, mixed with shelves of herbs she struggled to recognize. A large variety of sorts. An overwhelming amount of faces, staring down to her in worry, in relief. And her pained gaze felt far away, lost in them all. There was a seeming familiarity about them all but she couldn't quite recognize it, her brain fizzled and buzzed, trying to pull any information beyond the vague feeling. Tell her where she was, who these people were, who Goldenluxury Roux is. But it could not grasp at beyond to what it'd already done.
She remains quiet, still, unsure and lost on how she was to proceed. She was somebody, that much was evident by her surroundings. But who exactly that was, besides the answer of her name, her status with the Gods, could not be retrieved by her damaged head. It'd been lost somewhere, severed from its strings. The information it'd held once before had no room, was smashed away, and the empty space struggled to hold onto much at all. But, how she would respond, how she may speak up, it was unapparent. Perhaps it would be easier, to be silent, and let them believe she knew that she was apart of whatever club they so clearly shared, and exactly how she was apart of it. However, the truth was, she'd no idea. The flower's petals had fallen away, and she could not recall of what they even looked like.
"I..." comes her voice, finally. But it struggles, is weak, and shaky. Her throat is dry, struggling from lack of use. For some reason, her eyes seem to become watery, teary-eyed, and she can't figure out why. She was not sad. Not as far as she could tell, at least. Whatever part of her that may feel empathetic towards their reactions, that has already been through this once before, was nothing more than a feeling that she could not control now. And what question, what words, could possibly account for what she had to admit? Her struggling mind didn't know. There was only one thing, among all this, that it did know. "H-Hello, m' name...is Goldenluxury Roux."
"Can anyone tell me...where I am?"
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - ROXANNE R. - 01-03-2021
Roxanne had been there when Stryker's head had been sliced off, she had felt such joy because that meant everything was over now but the serpent had struck one last time before dying and Goldenluxury Roux had fallen. Roxie did her best to eradicate most of the Condemned members off the beaches and from the Typhoon but she had grown terribly worried about her niece in that moment, so, afraid that she was going to lose her. She remembered being there at her side and feeling like she had failed... She had failed to protect Goldenluxury and if she died, she would blame no one but herself for not acting quick enough to possibly save her nie- daughter from the snakes sudden strike. Her eyes having shifted to the head of the said serpent, she wouldn't let them take it away, no, she wanted the Coalition of the Condemned to find a reminder of why they should have never messed with Goldie and her crew.
Roxanne had been placing around on the beaches unable to stay in one place, her mind buzzing with thoughts as she bit down on her bottom jaw though she stopped and perked her ears forward hearing Roan calling out for her, the Quartermaster immediately bolted forward with the weight of worry being lifted from her shoulders. She was awake, she had to be there right away. Roxie made it just in time only to brush past both Eulia and Roan gently making her way through the small group to the tigress who had just woke up after being out several days. She was ready to speak but held back briefly for a moment, she needed to catch her breath but it wasn't long before she would say with a shaky voice "I'm so glad that you're awake, sweetheart. Do you need some water?" She must he hungry and thirsty, she was about to tell a NPC to go fetch something until Goldie's words hit her ears.
"H-Hello, m' name...is Goldenluxury Roux. Can anyone tell me...where I am?"
She could feel her heart drop in her chest in that moment but Roxanne would keep calm, she could handle this. She had always been there for Goldie like a mother would and frankly, the Quartermaster wouldn't stop doing that now even in the captain's current state. A soft breath would leave her and Roxie would draw near lifting up a paw to wipe away at the girl's tears, she could remember the last few times that Goldie had cried... Oh how, it had made her chest tighten and feel her heart breaking. A mother never wished to see her child cry or let alone feel sad so, Rox would say in a soft voice "You're in the Typhoon... You are home," If Goldenluxury truly didn't remember everything well, that was fine and Roxanne would be there to try helping her remember. She may not recall everything and that was fine.
"And I'm Roxanne Roux," She said finally introducing herself as she brought her body closer to Goldie and pressed close only to attempt to wrap her arms around the tigress "You'll be okay. You're safe here." She moved back for a moment only to flick her tail over to those gathered there as she continued "We are your family. You are my daughter... And I'm happy that you've opened your eyes," Her voice was gentle and soft as she spoke, she hoped that this wouldn't overwhelm the tigress with how many people were currently gathered but Roxanne hoped that her presence would be enough to calm Goldie. She could feel her eyes stinging as tears threatened to spill, her ears pressing flat against her skull.
"I love you dearly, my child."
Roxanne had been placing around on the beaches unable to stay in one place, her mind buzzing with thoughts as she bit down on her bottom jaw though she stopped and perked her ears forward hearing Roan calling out for her, the Quartermaster immediately bolted forward with the weight of worry being lifted from her shoulders. She was awake, she had to be there right away. Roxie made it just in time only to brush past both Eulia and Roan gently making her way through the small group to the tigress who had just woke up after being out several days. She was ready to speak but held back briefly for a moment, she needed to catch her breath but it wasn't long before she would say with a shaky voice "I'm so glad that you're awake, sweetheart. Do you need some water?" She must he hungry and thirsty, she was about to tell a NPC to go fetch something until Goldie's words hit her ears.
"H-Hello, m' name...is Goldenluxury Roux. Can anyone tell me...where I am?"
She could feel her heart drop in her chest in that moment but Roxanne would keep calm, she could handle this. She had always been there for Goldie like a mother would and frankly, the Quartermaster wouldn't stop doing that now even in the captain's current state. A soft breath would leave her and Roxie would draw near lifting up a paw to wipe away at the girl's tears, she could remember the last few times that Goldie had cried... Oh how, it had made her chest tighten and feel her heart breaking. A mother never wished to see her child cry or let alone feel sad so, Rox would say in a soft voice "You're in the Typhoon... You are home," If Goldenluxury truly didn't remember everything well, that was fine and Roxanne would be there to try helping her remember. She may not recall everything and that was fine.
"And I'm Roxanne Roux," She said finally introducing herself as she brought her body closer to Goldie and pressed close only to attempt to wrap her arms around the tigress "You'll be okay. You're safe here." She moved back for a moment only to flick her tail over to those gathered there as she continued "We are your family. You are my daughter... And I'm happy that you've opened your eyes," Her voice was gentle and soft as she spoke, she hoped that this wouldn't overwhelm the tigress with how many people were currently gathered but Roxanne hoped that her presence would be enough to calm Goldie. She could feel her eyes stinging as tears threatened to spill, her ears pressing flat against her skull.
"I love you dearly, my child."
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - riftweaver - 01-04-2021
[align=center]
RIFTWEAVER
[W]iskerRIFTWEAVER
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"]
Riftweaver knew of amnesia. Of the confusion and fear that came with a distinct lack of memory. Although his memory loss was not as severe as his mother's seemed to be, he could only fathom her fear. The male flattened his ears, shooting a glance at his grandmother.
Once more, the Roux fixed his two-toned gaze upon the older female, giving a sad smile. "I am Riftweaver Roux. Your son." he explained gently, brows furrowed in concern. He was certain most everyone shared his thoughts. What were they going to do if Goldenluxery didn't regain her memories? If she never remembered who she was?
He cast another worried look at Roxanne, hoping she could read the question flickering in his gaze.
-
Riftweaver knew of amnesia. Of the confusion and fear that came with a distinct lack of memory. Although his memory loss was not as severe as his mother's seemed to be, he could only fathom her fear. The male flattened his ears, shooting a glance at his grandmother.
Once more, the Roux fixed his two-toned gaze upon the older female, giving a sad smile. "I am Riftweaver Roux. Your son." he explained gently, brows furrowed in concern. He was certain most everyone shared his thoughts. What were they going to do if Goldenluxery didn't regain her memories? If she never remembered who she was?
He cast another worried look at Roxanne, hoping she could read the question flickering in his gaze.
-
Re: MOTH'S WINGS / waking up - roan ; - 01-07-2021
SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON
Slow. Time had slowed to a snail's pace once Goldie was awake, Roan's ears perked intently forward and his blue eyes burning with intensity and tears, all at once. He vaguely knew of other bodies gathering around them, although he tried his best to ignore the majority of them. He had never done well when the temple was overcrowded, and although he could certainly understand the rush, given the current situation, he couldn't help the way that his jaw clenched. He was quick to lift a paw to his face, scrubbing away tears and letting out a light hiss of displeasure at himself. He hated showing his emotions so freely in front of others, and he was quick to turn away. Wandering, he moved over to the back of the temple, allowing Goldie and the other's space as he focused on his remaining herbs. His mind was on autopilot as he began to sort, able to hear all sorts of various declarations of happiness from behind him. Vaguely, he found himself wondering what it was like. To almost lose family, rather than lose them entirely. How would he have reacted if Jaime had recovered in the end, and come back to them, despite it looking the worst was to happen? Roan wasn't sure, and the thought was enough to make him catch a claw on one of the cubbies, letting out a soft hiss of pain as he yanked it back and scowled at his mistake.
Part of him wanted to flee the scene already. Turn and make his way out into the jungle, entirely ready to mutter out some excuse about how he needed to get more herbs. That wasn't even entirely a lie, considering the recent raid on the temple from that dinky little group of bastards. However, as soon as he had leaned over to grab his satchel, he heard Goldie's voice break through the air, soft and unsure. He couldn't resist looking towards her, his entire body tense as he waited for her to speak something more. Unfortunately, when she did finally continue on, he couldn't help but feel his heart drop into his stomach. It was like his entire body had been dropped into a bucket of ice water, a needle of cold digging between his bones and plunging straight into his heart. He had to struggle to keep himself upright, trying to process what she had just said. An... an introduction. As if she didn't know who any of them were. He had thought that she wasn't lost, and yet... yet here she was. The person in front of him wasn't the Goldenluxury Roux that he had known. It wasn't the cousin that he had grown up with, the one that he had turned to whenever he felt like he was in need of guidance. Instead, she was just... a blank slate. A canvas being hastily splattered with colors as everyone rushed to introduce themselves to her. To spark something.
Roan, however, had no such aspirations. His blue gaze had grown distant, vaguely focused on some point far away, outside of the temple and away from all of this. His eyes briefly darted around, desperately searching for Rosemary to make sure that Goldie would have some form of help. He didn't spot her, but he could smell her scent fresh on the air, and was sure it wouldn't be long before she returned once again. So, he managed to push himself up to his feet, his jaws clamping down on his satchel and heaving it up and over his shoulder. He allowed it to fall against his side, the siamese turning and approaching the makeshift nest that Goldie was currently secured in. Part of him wanted to say nothing at all, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't. Instead, he took in a slightly sharp breath, able to feel that needle dig further into his heart as he did so. He then introduced himself, voice even more monotone than it usually was, "...My name is Roan Ó Foaláin-Roux. I am a soothsayer of the Typhoon, and I am your cousin. I am also the one who has been overseeing your recovery." In the back of his mind, he had to wonder if this truly counted as a recovery. They had gotten her back, but... had they? Really?
After that, the draconian feline fell silent again, taking a step back as his gaze focused on the floor. His claws scraped gently against the stone, his tense muscles unable to pull them in as be sighed. He spoke dully to the crowd of others around him, more just speaking aloud than actually addressing anyone in particular, "I need to restock things. I'll be back..." He didn't exactly wait for any kind of response, turning on his heel and walking out of the temple as fast as his legs could carry him. As he opened his wings and took to the sky, he knew he was taking the cowardly way out. However, he just... he just couldn't do it, right now. He couldn't face her, not while she was like this. He couldn't force himself to put on a brave face, not when the face in front of him would just be staring back blankly, with no recognition whatsoever. For now, he would instead just flee, content to find some semblance of peace within the jungle. He knew that it would only be temporary, and he would have to return to the temple eventually. That was something for him to worry about in the future, though.
( out! )
Part of him wanted to flee the scene already. Turn and make his way out into the jungle, entirely ready to mutter out some excuse about how he needed to get more herbs. That wasn't even entirely a lie, considering the recent raid on the temple from that dinky little group of bastards. However, as soon as he had leaned over to grab his satchel, he heard Goldie's voice break through the air, soft and unsure. He couldn't resist looking towards her, his entire body tense as he waited for her to speak something more. Unfortunately, when she did finally continue on, he couldn't help but feel his heart drop into his stomach. It was like his entire body had been dropped into a bucket of ice water, a needle of cold digging between his bones and plunging straight into his heart. He had to struggle to keep himself upright, trying to process what she had just said. An... an introduction. As if she didn't know who any of them were. He had thought that she wasn't lost, and yet... yet here she was. The person in front of him wasn't the Goldenluxury Roux that he had known. It wasn't the cousin that he had grown up with, the one that he had turned to whenever he felt like he was in need of guidance. Instead, she was just... a blank slate. A canvas being hastily splattered with colors as everyone rushed to introduce themselves to her. To spark something.
Roan, however, had no such aspirations. His blue gaze had grown distant, vaguely focused on some point far away, outside of the temple and away from all of this. His eyes briefly darted around, desperately searching for Rosemary to make sure that Goldie would have some form of help. He didn't spot her, but he could smell her scent fresh on the air, and was sure it wouldn't be long before she returned once again. So, he managed to push himself up to his feet, his jaws clamping down on his satchel and heaving it up and over his shoulder. He allowed it to fall against his side, the siamese turning and approaching the makeshift nest that Goldie was currently secured in. Part of him wanted to say nothing at all, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't. Instead, he took in a slightly sharp breath, able to feel that needle dig further into his heart as he did so. He then introduced himself, voice even more monotone than it usually was, "...My name is Roan Ó Foaláin-Roux. I am a soothsayer of the Typhoon, and I am your cousin. I am also the one who has been overseeing your recovery." In the back of his mind, he had to wonder if this truly counted as a recovery. They had gotten her back, but... had they? Really?
After that, the draconian feline fell silent again, taking a step back as his gaze focused on the floor. His claws scraped gently against the stone, his tense muscles unable to pull them in as be sighed. He spoke dully to the crowd of others around him, more just speaking aloud than actually addressing anyone in particular, "I need to restock things. I'll be back..." He didn't exactly wait for any kind of response, turning on his heel and walking out of the temple as fast as his legs could carry him. As he opened his wings and took to the sky, he knew he was taking the cowardly way out. However, he just... he just couldn't do it, right now. He couldn't face her, not while she was like this. He couldn't force himself to put on a brave face, not when the face in front of him would just be staring back blankly, with no recognition whatsoever. For now, he would instead just flee, content to find some semblance of peace within the jungle. He knew that it would only be temporary, and he would have to return to the temple eventually. That was something for him to worry about in the future, though.
( out! )
DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!
— Reggan