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+---- Thread: alone amongst a murder (/showthread.php?tid=14843)
alone amongst a murder - VALE - 05-21-2021
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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ 3-eyed crow
Not a stone’s throw away from the railroad, a murder of crows settled into a large tree. The little flying devils cleared the space of dangers, like snakes and larger parrots, cawing and strutting over the branches. The tropics proved a better place than the chilly islands up north, but not all of the murder flew here with Vale.
The three-eyed crow, lost in a sea amongst many, chittered to verself. Reciting poetry, mostly, of Edgar Allen Poe, Carl Sandburg, and other depressing sorts.
To remember what you would rather forget… this is difficult. It is far easier to remember art which touches the parts of you hidden away, gorge yourself on the elicited feelings, and stew upon the “hidden meanings” the artist intended you to find. For what is art if not communication? And you must communicate, you think, between the parts of yourself lost to time (buried, so deeply, until you think there is only lingering pathways burned into the brain from the ghostly touch of harsher truths…) and the parts which remain.
As Vale pondered, weak and weary, over this often visited drop of lore, Alone by Carl Sandburg tapped quite gently until it rapped against vis skull.
Straightening up, the three-eyed crow cawed and beat vis wings. Fluttering to a higher branch, then another, the crow pointed vis beak at the rising moon in the noonday sky. CAW, ve screached, one last wordless proclamation before ve recited the poem from memory.
Naked I stood on the soft shingle of sand where the sea
swept my legs with salt and wet.
Alone I walked under the arch of night where the stars
fluttered between treetops in the wind
And a long memory it is I have how the sea and the night
were kind
The crows Vale surrounded verself with did not particularly understand, feral as they were in mind and body, but they CAWED in solidarity. Their voices punctuated the silence where Sandburg intentionally dropped that silly syntax off. They cawed, and Vale recited.
Vale finished with a mocking sort of half-bow, recited from memory like the poem itself, without understanding the meaning. Or. Perhaps? Perhaps Vale understood too much, and simply chose to plead ignorance. In an unsane world, could anyone fault the sanest for feinting insanity to fit in with all the rest?
YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★ The three-eyed crow, lost in a sea amongst many, chittered to verself. Reciting poetry, mostly, of Edgar Allen Poe, Carl Sandburg, and other depressing sorts.
To remember what you would rather forget… this is difficult. It is far easier to remember art which touches the parts of you hidden away, gorge yourself on the elicited feelings, and stew upon the “hidden meanings” the artist intended you to find. For what is art if not communication? And you must communicate, you think, between the parts of yourself lost to time (buried, so deeply, until you think there is only lingering pathways burned into the brain from the ghostly touch of harsher truths…) and the parts which remain.
As Vale pondered, weak and weary, over this often visited drop of lore, Alone by Carl Sandburg tapped quite gently until it rapped against vis skull.
Straightening up, the three-eyed crow cawed and beat vis wings. Fluttering to a higher branch, then another, the crow pointed vis beak at the rising moon in the noonday sky. CAW, ve screached, one last wordless proclamation before ve recited the poem from memory.
Naked I stood on the soft shingle of sand where the sea
swept my legs with salt and wet.
Alone I walked under the arch of night where the stars
fluttered between treetops in the wind
And a long memory it is I have how the sea and the night
were kind
The crows Vale surrounded verself with did not particularly understand, feral as they were in mind and body, but they CAWED in solidarity. Their voices punctuated the silence where Sandburg intentionally dropped that silly syntax off. They cawed, and Vale recited.
Vale finished with a mocking sort of half-bow, recited from memory like the poem itself, without understanding the meaning. Or. Perhaps? Perhaps Vale understood too much, and simply chose to plead ignorance. In an unsane world, could anyone fault the sanest for feinting insanity to fit in with all the rest?
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
Re: alone amongst a murder - Simon F.M. - 05-21-2021
｢ H U R R Y U P ! T H E S U N I S G O I N G D O W N ! ｣
![[Image: diya_small.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/740733497366413432/807460468414349312/diya_small.png)
"Carl Sandburg, interesting choice" the before unknown audience member would say as she finally revealed herself, watching the three-eyed crow with interest, not that she could truly identify its blurry shape. "The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on," she would say lightly, ignoring the twinge in her side, the tiredness that twinged at the edge of her mind. Squinted eyes took in the hoard that rested upon the branches, head tilted as if deep in thoughts.
"Why do you haunt those branches, murder? Is there something you search for?" she asked, as her tail slowly flicked behind her. The one who spoke, perhaps the leader, perhaps sentient or merely echoing something heard in passing, as corvids could at times do, unaware of the impacts their words could have.
"Why do you haunt those branches, murder? Is there something you search for?" she asked, as her tail slowly flicked behind her. The one who spoke, perhaps the leader, perhaps sentient or merely echoing something heard in passing, as corvids could at times do, unaware of the impacts their words could have.
Re: alone amongst a murder - Keona. - 05-21-2021
[table][tr][td]
[/td][td]
[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 13px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin
For one tailed by a young hooded crow, the murder is a blaring sound. Sensitive ears flicking down. Biting back irritation. Too loud. Was everything always this loud? At least the crow following her, however sharp-minded, remained silent for now. This wasn't Fala's murder. If she had one.
The dire wolf herself is quiet too, coming to halt besides Diya without a word. Sightless hues resting towards the sounds. Murmurs of poetry. Odd to catch by the railway. Something more reserved for time tucked away in the sky parlor. Teasing Salem on his extensive memory of Edgar Allan Poe. Soft smiles when he recited their favorite pieces into the night.
Displaced, she hummed softly in acknowledgement. Head tilting. Fala settled on her shoulders. CAWing back once in a way Keona could only identify as territorial. Still unsure why the bird insisted on staying with her. How she managed to grow attached to the dealer. She was a smart bird... She could probably get back where she came from... But she didn't.
The fae shifted her weight to be more comfortable with her avian companion, lines of another Sandburg poem echoing in her mind. Staying within. The words would not pass the dealer's lips. Uninterested in open reading among the unfamiliar. The sea speaks. And only the stormy hearts Know what it says.
It was an interesting choice, as Diya said. The canine wondered if the crow read it or heard it somewhere.
[/td][/tr][/table]The dire wolf herself is quiet too, coming to halt besides Diya without a word. Sightless hues resting towards the sounds. Murmurs of poetry. Odd to catch by the railway. Something more reserved for time tucked away in the sky parlor. Teasing Salem on his extensive memory of Edgar Allan Poe. Soft smiles when he recited their favorite pieces into the night.
Displaced, she hummed softly in acknowledgement. Head tilting. Fala settled on her shoulders. CAWing back once in a way Keona could only identify as territorial. Still unsure why the bird insisted on staying with her. How she managed to grow attached to the dealer. She was a smart bird... She could probably get back where she came from... But she didn't.
The fae shifted her weight to be more comfortable with her avian companion, lines of another Sandburg poem echoing in her mind. Staying within. The words would not pass the dealer's lips. Uninterested in open reading among the unfamiliar. The sea speaks. And only the stormy hearts Know what it says.
It was an interesting choice, as Diya said. The canine wondered if the crow read it or heard it somewhere.
© MADI
Re: alone amongst a murder - VALE - 05-21-2021
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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ 3-eyed crow
“The cloud of a cat recites Little Cat Feet, oh, what a treat!” The three-eyed crow fluffed out vis chest, then hopped off the branch.
Ve dropped like a stone and caught vis claws on one of the lowest branches of the tree. The murder cawed in surprise and warning—this one, can you believe this one, bravery and foolish meet here!—and the crows on the low branch hopped off. Staying near their three-eyed companion when under a possible threat never turned out well.
“I search for a tome of forgotten lore. It is an antidote to the madness brought by the relentless CAW, CAW, CAW at my mind’s door!” The crow leaned forward, closer but nowhere within striking distance, to the white feline and the emerging second pirate. “Perhaps you’ve seen it?”
YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★ Ve dropped like a stone and caught vis claws on one of the lowest branches of the tree. The murder cawed in surprise and warning—this one, can you believe this one, bravery and foolish meet here!—and the crows on the low branch hopped off. Staying near their three-eyed companion when under a possible threat never turned out well.
“I search for a tome of forgotten lore. It is an antidote to the madness brought by the relentless CAW, CAW, CAW at my mind’s door!” The crow leaned forward, closer but nowhere within striking distance, to the white feline and the emerging second pirate. “Perhaps you’ve seen it?”
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]
Re: alone amongst a murder - LUMIA CIPHER. - 05-21-2021
Poetry. Lumia had honestly never really gotten much of a chance to read poetry, at least in the early months of her life. Caesar hadn't exactly appreciated the art form, and considering she was constantly having to rush to keep up with him, she didn't exactly have a lot of chances to go searching for it, either. It was a shame, really, considering what little she had seen, she had actually enjoyed. It was a beautiful art foorm, and she enjoyed the way that most poems flowed so delicately and smoothly from line to line. It was a sharp contrast to the real world, where everything was full of harsh boundaries and unpleasantness. Although somehow, hearing poetry straight from Vale's mouth caused a shiver to run down Mia's spine. Not one of fear, just of... unease. Perhaps it was just because of the presence of the murder, and how loud they all were. Or maybe because of vis several eyes? Whatever was causing the feline, it sort of made Lumia want to either lash out or turn tail and bolt. The presence of Diya and Keona – both of whom didn't look all that concerned – caused her to stay, however.
At Vale's questioning about a "tome of forgotten lore," the privateer found herself a little confused. It was a bit difficult to parse out vis meaning, and Lumia wasn't sure if the other was asking about an actual book or not. Nevertheless, she still decided to offer up her own suggestion, "If you're looking for a 'tome,' you should probably check the lighthouse. There's a library in there with most of the books that The Typhoon has. It would probably be your best bet." That is, if Vale was looking for an actual book. If ve was looking for some kind of guidance... well, Lu couldn't really offer that. She had never known the crow before this moment, nor did she know of vis rather destructive past. It was a shame, but if Vale was looking for some deep knowledge on vis past, ve would have to look elsewhere. Perhaps Diya would know something? She had been around within The Typhoon longer than Lumia had, and she seemed to get out of the group a bit more than Keona. She had even lived in one of the other groups for a while, although said group was now long gone – unbeknownst to Mia.
At Vale's questioning about a "tome of forgotten lore," the privateer found herself a little confused. It was a bit difficult to parse out vis meaning, and Lumia wasn't sure if the other was asking about an actual book or not. Nevertheless, she still decided to offer up her own suggestion, "If you're looking for a 'tome,' you should probably check the lighthouse. There's a library in there with most of the books that The Typhoon has. It would probably be your best bet." That is, if Vale was looking for an actual book. If ve was looking for some kind of guidance... well, Lu couldn't really offer that. She had never known the crow before this moment, nor did she know of vis rather destructive past. It was a shame, but if Vale was looking for some deep knowledge on vis past, ve would have to look elsewhere. Perhaps Diya would know something? She had been around within The Typhoon longer than Lumia had, and she seemed to get out of the group a bit more than Keona. She had even lived in one of the other groups for a while, although said group was now long gone – unbeknownst to Mia.
☆ — something's going on underneath your skin
Re: alone amongst a murder - VALE - 05-23-2021
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graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ 3 eyed crow
“A library?” Those horrifyingly red eyes locked onto Lumia; they blinked out of sync with themselves, and a long, grey tongue flicked out to lick the left eye clean.
“Hahaha, a library!” Ve hopped and skipped, chuckling to verself, and then began to speak faster and faster. “Do you think a little faerie lurks inside, eating mulberries and looking oh-so wary for a scary little adversary—”
The crow cut verself off. The three eyes blinked, one at a time, and the crow stilled. “In search of a tome of forgotten lore… a library, yes, a place for a visionary. Hahaha! A visionary!”
CAW! The nearby crows shrieked. CAW, CAW, CAW!
Ve glanced over vis shoulder at the murder, then looked back to Lumia. One wing folded into a mockery of a half-bow. “Thank you! Goodbye!”
Wings fluttering, the crow took flight. CAW! Vale shrieked, joining the murder in flight.
“Don’t forget to write!” ve cawed, cawed, cawed.
// out unless stopped
YOU NEVER TRUSTED ME ★ “Hahaha, a library!” Ve hopped and skipped, chuckling to verself, and then began to speak faster and faster. “Do you think a little faerie lurks inside, eating mulberries and looking oh-so wary for a scary little adversary—”
The crow cut verself off. The three eyes blinked, one at a time, and the crow stilled. “In search of a tome of forgotten lore… a library, yes, a place for a visionary. Hahaha! A visionary!”
CAW! The nearby crows shrieked. CAW, CAW, CAW!
Ve glanced over vis shoulder at the murder, then looked back to Lumia. One wing folded into a mockery of a half-bow. “Thank you! Goodbye!”
Wings fluttering, the crow took flight. CAW! Vale shrieked, joining the murder in flight.
“Don’t forget to write!” ve cawed, cawed, cawed.
// out unless stopped
BUT I’M OVER IT NOW
[sub][W]isker[/sub]