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+---- Thread: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) (/showthread.php?tid=6277)
( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - DANNY - 09-17-2018
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Exist or not to exist. To be truly alive and breathing or be the puppet of another much higher than you. Death itself is never the end when you truly didn’t in the first place, isn’t it? The billions of lives on different wavelengths of existence, sharing the same universe yet vibrating to the point of being on another plane of being. It was the question to plague the mind of a child who had never had their first birthday. A foolish error of ingesting chemicals to cut short a life of one who wasn’t alive yet not dead either. To have an existence of not knowing where one belonged or if they were meant to be in the first place. Confusing and puzzling to the point that life itself wasn’t. . . Life. Simply existence. The child knew he was more than what he believed after he had been reborn. Seeing his first birthday yet not truly being his first. No matter how many times he thought and tried to get over it, he had many first birthdays but they were never the real first birthday. And so Danny, a child of a mortal and creation of the embodiment of death, had witnessed many things. Having known that his true father had died after he did, and that the rest of his siblings, save for one, were half. More powerful than he, but loved them all the same. It hurt when he had to watch them suddenly die. No warning. No signs. Fine one minute and the next they were cold as the snow on winter days. Yet, they never came back like he did.
No, Danny had come to the conclusion that he was damned to die and be reborn for eternity– until Death itself reaped the universe the moment it ceased to exist.
A fate he had come to realize and come to terms with.
It gets lonely when the ones he cherished the most dies and doesn’t come back, and the hopes to see them again are known to be slim. A small, fragile hope after escaping the simulated universe he had been birthed into to see his siblings one more time. Danny didn’t keep his expectations high; he learned his lesson for getting them up. So it was then that the child had wandered from dimension to dimension, searching for some plane to reside in for a millennia before moving to the next. During these. . . Adventures, the creature had learned to not get too attached and ensure others didn’t become too attached to him, for death was inevitable. While he was breathing and moving now, the next day, the next second, he would be gone. A flame from a candle snuffed out at random, making it hard to tell his life span. Even now, he could stop breathing and go back into the nothingness he would emerge from years later. Of course, it wasn’t the case right now, but who is to know?
Light steps are taken as the child emerged from the shadows as the sun began to peep out in the horizon, small dark frame shifting and writhing as the shadows melted back. ( Come back. Back to us. ) The desire to go back to the nothingness and stay there was compelling but the drive to finally socialize and meet others override the want to go back. The kitten moves through the canopy of trees, eyes void of any color glancing up to the purplish pink sky mixed with dark oranges before focusing forward. Paws bring the shadowy manx through the grass, dark figure solidifying, solidifying, solidifying. Until shadows cling to small paws and back as Danny continued on his path. Nostrils flared to drink in the surrounding scents while interest peaked at the faint smell of others not too far. Switching between bounding and hopping, the child had made it to his destination, whiskers quivering and curling forward as he inhaled the marked border, not minding the scent of pee. This was a good sign. Someone would have to be near soon, it’s usually written that way.
Jaws parted and yawned before taking in another deep breath. It’s oddly satisfying to know that there’s potential of interacting with others for how long as he desire.
"Hello?" Light yet high pitched words came from the dark child. "'m Danny and I’d like to stay." The kitten shifted his paws and looked down at them then gazed around, bobbed tail twitching in anticipation as the waiting game began.
( He’d wait for years if it meant he'd get company at last. )
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - DANYLA - 09-18-2018
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Life was finicky, yes, as were the people who bore it, but Danyla knew it was a love of many to define it, and a need for others to shape it into something they could completely understand. Perhaps it was his experience that kept Danyla from finding the same interest in definition, in unraveling the mysteries of existence; he didn't care to comprehend all of it, because it would not change how unpredictable people could be, how cruel or kind. His master would not have released him from his golden leash if he had somehow attained the knowledge of life and death, because that would equate to power, and his master was not one to allow opportunity to slip free. Because it didn't matter, Danyla made no attempts to attribute a meaning. For him, in his life, he'd fallen into a sort of tunnel-vision, able to see only how he could perform at his best to meet his master's expectations, to evade punishment. Danyla did not think of death, only that the chances he would serve his master until his final breath were high enough that...well, he would not have been the first slave to die after a long-life of servitude. Far from it.
And yet here he was, free, or something like it. Temporary as it may be, he wasn't certain what to do with himself. Some part of him wondered if he might finally be able to live for himself, instead of another person, but there was so much of the unknown involved and slave-catchers who would be glad to drag him back that he didn't dare give it more thought.
Danyla became a bit of a ghost haunting the territory, skirting around company. It was easier now that the gold glitter was gone, and with it, attention. He would not be so remarkable as he was, and he needed the time to adjust, so he avoided people as best he could. A child was...different. He had helped a fellow slave raise her children, and had buried his grief when they were sold. "Andaran atish’an, Danny. I...think you can stay." They wouldn't turn aside a child, would they? They hadn't sent him away. "Yes, you can stay. Do you need anything?"
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - DANNY - 09-18-2018
[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"] Time passed and the early morning sky became more clear, blue now taking over with fluffy white clouds lazily drifting across the sky and the sun slowly taking its ascent into the sky. A low breath was exhaled as the dark kitten rested on his haunches before laying on his stomach minutes later. The warm breeze ruffling his fuzzy fur and closed his for a moment, simply breathing for that brief period of time. Then the distance smell and sound of one approaching had captured the child’s interest, clear eyes snapping open with a soft rrrrwwrr! vibrating in his chest.
Danny hopped to his feet with a quick stretch and a yawn, blinking a few times and trained his attention on the oncoming large and dark figure. Nostrils flared as he took a step forward as the shape became more focused– a massive wolf. Fur like the night as his own and it caused the four month old to tilt his head while studying the other. A thought formed in his mind but didn’t express it since he could ask about it later. Excitement to meet another living being was more important in the now.
Trotting forward with bright eyes, a low purr rumbled in Danny’s throat while aiming his rub his head against Danyla’s foreleg. A simple yet warm greeting he was used to doing to others– strangers or not. Ears swiveled forward as he took a step back and cocked his head to gaze upwards at the larger creature, a curious look settling on his face at the foreign words spoken towards him.
"Andaran atish’an, Danny."
"Andaran ais. . . atish. . .?" He mumbled the words with a contemplative frown, though gave little time to dwell on it. This wonderful canine right here had given him a “yes”. . . . Well, something close to it, but he’ll take that as a yes. Not even seconds later he got the confirmation of a solid yes and allowed his bobbed tail to wiggle with glee. The question if he needed something caused Danny to hum in thought before shaking his head.
"No, I’m good. Do you need something? Are you okay?" It was only polite to ask if the one gracious enough to let him stay if he was doing fine. A paw stretched out and, without hesitation, went to rest itself on Danyla’s own paw– if he’d allow it. "And you? Your name? And what did you say earlier?"
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - MOONMADE - 09-18-2018
[size=9pt]Moon's said it before and he'll say it again; the Ascendants were the unspoken daycare of the surrounding territory. He had yet to find a sign ejected from the roof of the Observatory that read, 'Sick of your hatched embryo? Drop them off here!' but he swore it was somewhere. How else would they have such an endless stream of troubled kids at their border? Not that Moon had a problem. If these kits thought their Clan safe enough to call home, then the Ascendants were going to accept the compliment and ready the diapers and rattle toys. Besides, Gabe would probably be delighted.
"Hello." He said, sounding slightly surprised at the scene he'd stumbled upon. One brow quirked and mouth the beginning of a confused smile, Moon glances at Danyla, as if for an explanation, before he realizes he's likely just as confused. The lion stays a foot or two away, all too aware of his height and current scarred state and less than willing to scare the youth off. "Danny, is it? Where'd you come from, kid?"
/mobile yikes
"Hello." He said, sounding slightly surprised at the scene he'd stumbled upon. One brow quirked and mouth the beginning of a confused smile, Moon glances at Danyla, as if for an explanation, before he realizes he's likely just as confused. The lion stays a foot or two away, all too aware of his height and current scarred state and less than willing to scare the youth off. "Danny, is it? Where'd you come from, kid?"
/mobile yikes
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - DANNY - 09-19-2018
[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"] The attention on the onyx hued direwolf didn’t last long once the child caught wind of another arriving to the scene. Nostrils flare as small black nose twitched and trained on the sight of the lanky lion. A mental note was made to see how many others lived here and their conditions as well. If he were aware of the fact that many children came to the Ascendants’ borders then he’d question why. But if safety was found in a place like this then he wouldn’t press too hard, and perhaps the kids themselves didn’t know. Whiskers quiver and fan out before a bright smile spread across Danny’s face; first, directed at Danyla with a friendly pat on the larger paw then towards Moon. Bobbed tail twitching, the feline trotted up to the lion, unafraid and strangely pleased.
A low, rumbling purr entered his chest once more and went to gently bump and rub his head against the male’s foreleg. "Hi! Yes, 'm Danny." He took a step back and rested on his haunches before stretching his torso up, a paw raised to lightly bat at the scarred predator’s mane. Danny hummed in thought at the question, clear eyes shifting towards golden ones with an unknown glimmer in his own. "Mm, some place different from here." He was quick to grow tired at his attempts to play with Moon’s disheveled mane and settled for laying on his side, paws lightly batting at the paw of the newest Ascendant to greet him.
"It’s not like your world. Mm. . . No, it’s different here than it is there. Not planned. Not. . ." Lips press into a thin line as brows scrunch together while mulling over his thoughts. Nobody had asked where he came from before and wasn’t prepared to answer the question, but he’d do his best.
"It's. . . simulated, I guess." Danny shrugged with a quiet yawn. "It was never a real place. Just a simulated life after some point, or something like that." Another shrug. "You life isn’t simulated. Well. . . Yeah, it's not." He nodded to himself in a form of conformation. "Where did you come from? Here or from another place?"
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - ★ HAZEL - 09-19-2018
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HAZEL ELISE CAELUM ★ THE ASCENDANTS ★ COCOA FELINE ★ GOLD EYES ★ IMMORTAL ★ 3 SOULS ★ 11 MONTHS
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Right about now, Hazel would have enjoyed a simulated life; simply speaking, and without delving too deeply into logistics and ethics of it all, she would enjoy something effortless and pre-routed. Hazel didn't believe in destiny or fate, but damn, did it sound like a nice concept. With the way her life was headed, she almost didn't want to know what was at the end of her road.
The cocoa feline pushed herself towards the scene, mildly determined to at least make an appearance to this stranger. Too many joined their ranks and didn't know her name, when really, she'd been here longer than anyone, save for Bastille. It was almost insulting, but then again...it was her fault, so who was really at blame here?
Taking a seat beside Moon, dimly lit golden optics drifted across the tiny kitten rubbing itself against the lion. Her shock was muted, knowing that this wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last of the children showing up on their borders completely alone. Backstories weren't exactly clipped to the kids like their bus number, so by design, they had to give them the benefit of the doubt and accept them with the hope their intelligence didn't surpass their age. It was sad, though, to see someone so young out on their own; Margy and Suite would have swept this little guy into their paws before he had a chance to give his name.
Hazel bit back against the bittersweet notions rising in her chest in favor of focusing on the boy. He looked to be around Harland's age, though his social skills were the exact opposite of the guardian's. "Hello," Hazel greeted, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "I'm Hazel. What did you say your name was?" She hadn't joined the conversation soon enough to catch his name, and felt a twinge of shame in having to ask him to repeat what he'd surely already said a couple of times.
[/td][/tr][/table]The cocoa feline pushed herself towards the scene, mildly determined to at least make an appearance to this stranger. Too many joined their ranks and didn't know her name, when really, she'd been here longer than anyone, save for Bastille. It was almost insulting, but then again...it was her fault, so who was really at blame here?
Taking a seat beside Moon, dimly lit golden optics drifted across the tiny kitten rubbing itself against the lion. Her shock was muted, knowing that this wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last of the children showing up on their borders completely alone. Backstories weren't exactly clipped to the kids like their bus number, so by design, they had to give them the benefit of the doubt and accept them with the hope their intelligence didn't surpass their age. It was sad, though, to see someone so young out on their own; Margy and Suite would have swept this little guy into their paws before he had a chance to give his name.
Hazel bit back against the bittersweet notions rising in her chest in favor of focusing on the boy. He looked to be around Harland's age, though his social skills were the exact opposite of the guardian's. "Hello," Hazel greeted, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "I'm Hazel. What did you say your name was?" She hadn't joined the conversation soon enough to catch his name, and felt a twinge of shame in having to ask him to repeat what he'd surely already said a couple of times.
TAGS . PLAYLIST . MOODBOARD . BIOGRAPHY . FERROKINESIS CHART
© MIITHERS
Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - BASTILLEPAW - 09-19-2018
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
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Bastille had never really stopped to question much about Echo's life. The memories snaked through him at odd hours, but they never cared the same emotional charge that his other lives did; his memories lacked sensation, in an odd way, coming and going when he found himself staring at another lone wanderer or faced with the grim realities of death. His life was a flat line, apathetic, quiet: group to group, death after death, a steady tide of traveling and training and feel nothing. A brief blimp on the radar when he thought of the Tribe — memories of Dawn and Indi, of the kits — and that was all. It was... almost steading, in a way. Not to have to feel anything when one of his live's took over. To feel the relative blank emotional slate that Echo brought to the table, a stark contrast to Zaniel's daddy issues and Pollie's craziness.
Maybe he should have thought harder. Maybe he could have looked back on the small black kitten who walked in Death from the day he was born, could have questioned the eerie fate of death following in his wake every where he went. He knew his names, the stories that chased after him, that sometimes reached new groups before him; knew they whispered the name Death and applied a legacy that did not actually belong to him. Echo of Death's Call was only one name of name, and there was a darkness in his path, but Bastille knew he was a mere mortal. An unlucky one, maybe. A damned one, certainly.
The simple fact of the matter is that he had accepted the fate he was given and never looked back to ask why, to ask how. There was a burning certainty in his veins that they were all doomed to die around him, just like the past; a morbid daydream of illness and surprise raids and freak accidents. Death was Death.
He arrives on the border paces after Hazel, brushing close to her side without touching her outright, pale blue stare locked on this tiny form. A memory crops up, unbidden: he is reminded instinctively of Indi's runt of the little, of the fray tom who carried a mild temperament and was almost so must nicer than his siblings; he is reminded of laughing when Indi looked at him in disgust and made bets about when he'd die. Bast blinks, and tries not to feel bad for the dark recollection when he greets, quiet, "Hey, kiddo."
[ this got abruptly rushed oops ]
[align=center][table][tr][td]Maybe he should have thought harder. Maybe he could have looked back on the small black kitten who walked in Death from the day he was born, could have questioned the eerie fate of death following in his wake every where he went. He knew his names, the stories that chased after him, that sometimes reached new groups before him; knew they whispered the name Death and applied a legacy that did not actually belong to him. Echo of Death's Call was only one name of name, and there was a darkness in his path, but Bastille knew he was a mere mortal. An unlucky one, maybe. A damned one, certainly.
The simple fact of the matter is that he had accepted the fate he was given and never looked back to ask why, to ask how. There was a burning certainty in his veins that they were all doomed to die around him, just like the past; a morbid daydream of illness and surprise raids and freak accidents. Death was Death.
He arrives on the border paces after Hazel, brushing close to her side without touching her outright, pale blue stare locked on this tiny form. A memory crops up, unbidden: he is reminded instinctively of Indi's runt of the little, of the fray tom who carried a mild temperament and was almost so must nicer than his siblings; he is reminded of laughing when Indi looked at him in disgust and made bets about when he'd die. Bast blinks, and tries not to feel bad for the dark recollection when he greets, quiet, "Hey, kiddo."
[ this got abruptly rushed oops ]
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE [color=#b4d5ee]FLAMES
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Re: ( ❝ . . . rendezvous ❞ — open, joining ) - DANYLA - 09-19-2018
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]The wolf startled before he could halt the motion when the child approached him, and held his body stiff as the kitten rubbed his skull against Danyla's leg. That was- he hadn't anticipated it, and wasn't certain what to make of the gesture. Was it a greeting? He hoped it was, and because he was so young, he didn't think it would be sinister, so he did not move until distance was created between them, releasing the breath he had held. "Andaran atish’an," he repeated, once he could speak beyond the small lump in his throat, and he smiled, the expression one had mastered throughout his lifetime of feigning contentment. He made it as genuine as he could for the little one, as from experience, children were perceptive, and he deserved more than a wholly inauthentic welcome.
The smile fell when he was disarmed by the question, a simple yet startling one, and the paw placed on his own further stole Danyla's voice. He swallowed thickly, rooted in place. "I am content," he said at last, and he internally cringed at his own wording; he could have been more convincing than that, but then, he wasn't satisfying a master, was he? Danyla pried himself free of those thoughts, at least temporarily. "It means...be welcome." The curiosity was endearing, but he was never able to relax, and the arrival of a lion gave him another jerk; with Danny occupied by greeting him, Danyla removed himself, disappearing into the grass.