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ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - MARIANNA - 10-22-2018
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LIPSTICK, RED WINE LONG NIGHTS, IT'S A LIFESTYLE SO GOOD TO THE LAST DROP YOU COULD SEE ME LIGHT UP FROM THE ROOFTOPS
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Listen: Maria’s memory sucked.
And this wasn’t getting into the whole novel of her past-that-she-couldn’t-recall; this was just...in general. She was shitty with names and faces, unless they had some amount of emotional significance to her brain. Maria couldn’t say that she felt particularly bad about going up to someone she’d known for three weeks just to say, “Hey, what’s your name?” because everyone was different. It didn’t mean she didn’t care, it just meant she didn’t care enough to generate a significant feeling with someone’s name.
Her poor recall of names was only the beginning; the tip of the iceberg. Her memory dysfunction extended past names and faces - it went onward with recent events, words, social manners; all of it went right out the window.
However...if she was going to live here, she supposed she could stand to be a bit lenient and put forth some actual effort.
The Somali had taken to the grassy fronds just beyond the observatory walls, right where the fields grew thick. She was there purely based on how nice it felt to hide, though she wasn’t doing a great job of it; her auburn pelt contrasted starkly with the pale sage grass blades fading fast in the autumn weather. No matter, she wasn’t trying to hide. But there was a security blanket that came with it.
Green objects watched an unfamiliar face pass by with open interest, ignoring the sparks that eluminated the bandages on her legs. God, fine - she’d have to get to know most people at some point or another.
“Alright, folks - I hardly know any of you except for Mufasa, Mufasa, and cannibal boy.” She paused, shrugging. Mufasa was apparently their leader, but she still felt little shame for calling him out. “If I could get to know you better, I’ll make it worth your while - I specialize in light shows.” She winced. “Well, I kind of specialize in them. Whatever - doesn’t matter. You get the gist.”
[/td][/tr][/table]And this wasn’t getting into the whole novel of her past-that-she-couldn’t-recall; this was just...in general. She was shitty with names and faces, unless they had some amount of emotional significance to her brain. Maria couldn’t say that she felt particularly bad about going up to someone she’d known for three weeks just to say, “Hey, what’s your name?” because everyone was different. It didn’t mean she didn’t care, it just meant she didn’t care enough to generate a significant feeling with someone’s name.
Her poor recall of names was only the beginning; the tip of the iceberg. Her memory dysfunction extended past names and faces - it went onward with recent events, words, social manners; all of it went right out the window.
However...if she was going to live here, she supposed she could stand to be a bit lenient and put forth some actual effort.
The Somali had taken to the grassy fronds just beyond the observatory walls, right where the fields grew thick. She was there purely based on how nice it felt to hide, though she wasn’t doing a great job of it; her auburn pelt contrasted starkly with the pale sage grass blades fading fast in the autumn weather. No matter, she wasn’t trying to hide. But there was a security blanket that came with it.
Green objects watched an unfamiliar face pass by with open interest, ignoring the sparks that eluminated the bandages on her legs. God, fine - she’d have to get to know most people at some point or another.
“Alright, folks - I hardly know any of you except for Mufasa, Mufasa, and cannibal boy.” She paused, shrugging. Mufasa was apparently their leader, but she still felt little shame for calling him out. “If I could get to know you better, I’ll make it worth your while - I specialize in light shows.” She winced. “Well, I kind of specialize in them. Whatever - doesn’t matter. You get the gist.”
© MIITHERS
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - agathe. - 10-22-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; color;"]In that regard, Agathe supposed that she and Maria couldn't be any more different.
Agathe categorized names and faces as easily as she took in air to breathe. Of course, she would not be afraid to admit that she sometimes played the part of a clueless girl who had yet to fully familiarize herself with her clanmates- but that was all a well designed act to gauge the reactions of others and see how they truly behaved when presented with the timeless annoyance of being forgotten. And perhaps she derived entertainment from her little hobby as well... Though she would never confess to that.
When it came to being remembered however, Agathe couldn't find it in herself to care less. She had long since labelled herself as a silent force that reveled not in the infamy of her name, but rather, the disorientation and desolation that her actions caused. In the past, she had once moved and killed so quickly that all anyone saw was the flash of a red cloak and a low snarl. In that regard, she supposed she might even enjoy being lost among a crowd of faces and names, as seemingly unimportant as the next person. It made her feel a little less like what she actually was and a little more like who she wanted to be. Even if there was a part of her that longed for recognition for what her sisters might call glory and her victims might call damnation.
Here, it seemed as if she made enough of an impression to have not been forgotten... yet. It wasn't until she heard Maria's charming call, that she realized that the fiery somali whom she had seen only once could indeed only recollect the faces of a supposed 'Mufasa' and 'Cannibal Boy'. Interesting. Though her paws were itching to run and push the limits of her body, the rational part of her mind knew that she had been training too hard as of late and risked reopening the wound on her side that had just begun to heal. She supposed that conversation, no matter how unpleasant it might prove to be, was her only option.
And so she approached the fire-wielding girl, flashed her teeth in a crooked smile, and then sat down, her red cloak pooling around her. "Agathe Ashyver. You're not much newer than I am."
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - miss ririchiyo - 10-23-2018
Compared to all of the people in the Ascendants, Saeran most definitely stood out a bit too much for his liking. He was stark white, and had glowing, piercing blue eyes that could shock someone cold. Not everyone was interested in the fact that he was dangerous, but he'd only attack if provoked- if he couldn't help otherwise. He hated to fight, because when he did, it usually ended up a bloodbath and he blanked out. He wouldn't even remember the fight afterwards, it was like he erased the whole thing from his memory almost immediately.
His legs seemed sore as he walked closer to the two females, his head hung low, unthreateningly, as he tried to come across as submissive as possible. He didn't want to scare anyone, he didn't want to be judged- God, if they looked at him with disgust, what would he do? He didn't know what the hell he would do- he'd probably cry. Probably run away. Probably both.
Well, if it all became too much, Sae could always run back to his room. He hadn't met Onision, but just from the rumors about him that drifted through the dark hallways of the Observatory, Saeran knew he didn't want to meet him. He would judge him, give him weird stares. He didn't want that.
It was obvious that Saeran was hesitant to speak, but the sound of Agathe's voice seemed to ground him enough to allow him to not go straight into a panic attack just from having to socialize with a new person. She didn't even know him, and just her voice calmed him. "My name.. Is Saeran Choi, call me whatever you like.." He spoke softly, his gentle, shaky voice completely different in comparison to his large, bulky body.
His legs seemed sore as he walked closer to the two females, his head hung low, unthreateningly, as he tried to come across as submissive as possible. He didn't want to scare anyone, he didn't want to be judged- God, if they looked at him with disgust, what would he do? He didn't know what the hell he would do- he'd probably cry. Probably run away. Probably both.
Well, if it all became too much, Sae could always run back to his room. He hadn't met Onision, but just from the rumors about him that drifted through the dark hallways of the Observatory, Saeran knew he didn't want to meet him. He would judge him, give him weird stares. He didn't want that.
It was obvious that Saeran was hesitant to speak, but the sound of Agathe's voice seemed to ground him enough to allow him to not go straight into a panic attack just from having to socialize with a new person. She didn't even know him, and just her voice calmed him. "My name.. Is Saeran Choi, call me whatever you like.." He spoke softly, his gentle, shaky voice completely different in comparison to his large, bulky body.
"WAVERING LOYALTIES" —-- saeran choi / ascendants / misc. / -miss ririchiyo
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - Grimm - 10-23-2018
[align=center][div style="width:450px; font-size:8.6pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:calibri;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:.5px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Trio were they, though beyond simplistic differences of memory broken into shards of glass better left is what connects them, yet so too is there change there.
Ever shifting and changing, colour contained within the frame of bone and skin, lost upon a mind that had grown weary. Short was his time, bare when placed within comparison to a great many counted amongst their numbers, speaking of experience that left the child wanting. Knowledge had become fodder almost, want there to expand a mind that seemed a sponge, but there was lack of grounding. It seemed not to matter how many times eyes passed over each passage, words stark upon the surface of the page, his mind refused to retain the information. So too had it become with faces, mixing together until they had become a jumbled puzzle missing pieces while others bore pieces cut down so they may fit. Select were the few who lingered, names caught upon a tongue given no voice though the want was there to speak, but time saw them grow blurred about edges he clung to.
Upon the flip he had no want for such things, ensnared within memory, given a place amongst those permitted passage in the books he enjoyed, it had grown a sour taste. Shadow was he, given the gentle beat of heart and the exhale of breath, the drag of it catching as gold watched the world. Almost had he become a bystander within his own life, yet what was to say such was not his want. Many times had the desire to run from this place, permit the memory to crumble into dust, risen. Something kept him from doing such, however, faint want to see through a business he had not the words to speak of.
Bright gold found the two, strangers both though one held slight familiarity. It seemed the impression she imparted was one lingering upon mind such as his, overworked as edges were pushed further. Little could be said for such, accomplishment easily gained but so too is it easily lost. Press of small paws upon the soft soil, the uneasy sway of the body as Harland moved closer. He had grown better at moving without the aid of a fourth limb, almost grew comfortable enough to do so without trouble, but still the threat was present.
Words lingered, caught upon the edge of thought before another was there. There was nothing there which spoke of prior meeting, a canine given height above his own, eyes lifting to find those toned in a stark shade of blue. Nothing of disgust was there, instead it was curiosity wound about a faint unease, present always within eyes that grew wide. “Hello...” Attention drifted away, found the other two present once more, soft curl of smile upon his lips.
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - MARIANNA - 10-23-2018
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LIPSTICK, RED WINE LONG NIGHTS, IT'S A LIFESTYLE SO GOOD TO THE LAST DROP YOU COULD SEE ME LIGHT UP FROM THE ROOFTOPS
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To be frank, it wasn’t really Maria’s job to be charming or pleasant. Was it nice and did it cater to her benefit to be in the good standings of others? Sure. Was it worth the exhausting effort? Not at all. She could be civil and speak domestically - most of the time - but what other people thought of her was of little importance to her soul and outward time.
Forest optics flicked upwards at the odd sound of fabric against earthly material; what she found was a snow leopard in a red cloak. Maria had expected few people to show up - had really only been yelling for god knows why, maybe just the hell of it - so Agathe’s presence was a welcome surprise. Especially with that cape, what the fuck - she wanted one.
“Yeah?” The rust-colored feline pushed herself up, leaving flattened grass in the sihlouette off a cat. “Cool to meet you, Agathe. Gonna be honest, I’m crap with names, and yours is hard - I probably won’t remember it until, like, week three.” Maria shrugged, rocking back on her haunches with a friendly grin. “When’d you get -”
Momentarily derailing herself mid-sentence, Maria’s incredibly short attention span latched on to the stark ivory of an otherwise normal-looking fellow. He was all sharp angles and lean limbs for his breed, but his spine was curved and his eyes hesitant. It took Maria an awkward bit of staring in order to collect this information, and even then she simply tilted her head up at him, watching the doberman with a blissfully oblivious expression.
“Pleasure to meet you, my dude. Can’t say that I’ll remember your name, either, but I’ll give a nickname my best shot,” She piped. “I’m Marianna, but Maria’s so much shorter; either works though, I guess. I’ll probably answer to Maria. Just - whatever kind’ve nickname you all think of is probably fine.”
It wasn’t long before there was another soul who presented themselves. Upon her sight of the boy, Maria felt the immediate need to lower her voice; and never would she have guessed that he be a month older than her. He looked similar to the doberman in terms of posture and quiet reluctance. Maria’s eyes briefly swayed in the direction of his missing leg, but surpressed the desire of curiosity. “Hi, my man,” The girl greeted softly. “What’s your name?”
[/td][/tr][/table]Forest optics flicked upwards at the odd sound of fabric against earthly material; what she found was a snow leopard in a red cloak. Maria had expected few people to show up - had really only been yelling for god knows why, maybe just the hell of it - so Agathe’s presence was a welcome surprise. Especially with that cape, what the fuck - she wanted one.
“Yeah?” The rust-colored feline pushed herself up, leaving flattened grass in the sihlouette off a cat. “Cool to meet you, Agathe. Gonna be honest, I’m crap with names, and yours is hard - I probably won’t remember it until, like, week three.” Maria shrugged, rocking back on her haunches with a friendly grin. “When’d you get -”
Momentarily derailing herself mid-sentence, Maria’s incredibly short attention span latched on to the stark ivory of an otherwise normal-looking fellow. He was all sharp angles and lean limbs for his breed, but his spine was curved and his eyes hesitant. It took Maria an awkward bit of staring in order to collect this information, and even then she simply tilted her head up at him, watching the doberman with a blissfully oblivious expression.
“Pleasure to meet you, my dude. Can’t say that I’ll remember your name, either, but I’ll give a nickname my best shot,” She piped. “I’m Marianna, but Maria’s so much shorter; either works though, I guess. I’ll probably answer to Maria. Just - whatever kind’ve nickname you all think of is probably fine.”
It wasn’t long before there was another soul who presented themselves. Upon her sight of the boy, Maria felt the immediate need to lower her voice; and never would she have guessed that he be a month older than her. He looked similar to the doberman in terms of posture and quiet reluctance. Maria’s eyes briefly swayed in the direction of his missing leg, but surpressed the desire of curiosity. “Hi, my man,” The girl greeted softly. “What’s your name?”
© MIITHERS
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - ELEANOR. - 10-23-2018
was eleanor good at remembering things? her mind twisted around the thought before she nodded only to herself. she was. it wasn't as though she had some fantastic memory where she was able to remember every little thing but, maybe because of her riveting observation skills, it was a talent. she could recall how others she had met in her past had reacted to certain statements or changes in emotion and she used that information to carry forward and use against others. it was how she read emotions so well, through countless observations of countless beings. there were very few she'd met that she hadn't been able to get a grasp on.
not only that but there were other occurances that she'd had to learn from and remember them for later. it was how she'd learned about medicine and psychology, it was how she'd grasped her current understanding of the supernatural world. the information that she'd retained throughout her life was truly what made eleanor, eleanor. there was no changing that. the only spacey memories she had were of her parents, which she found saddening. of all the people she wished to remember clearly it was them, though unfortunately she'd left at a young age to go find herself. to her own dismay, she'd limited the time she'd been given to make memories with her parents, and it was a regret she would carry with her through the rest of her life. and considering she was a vampire, it was going to be a long one.
"marianna? that's a pretty name," she was always like this, soft, caring. it was who she was, but it was also a bit of a downfall. more often than not she cared more about those she'd barely met than she did about herself, it was a reckless trait to have but nonetheless it was who eleanor was. "eleanor, but feel free to call me nelly," she smiles wide, her eyes warm as she takes a seat, the white she wrapping her fluffy tail around her paws with a gracious ease. "if there's anything i can ever help with, please let me know," she chirps, her smile widening.
not only that but there were other occurances that she'd had to learn from and remember them for later. it was how she'd learned about medicine and psychology, it was how she'd grasped her current understanding of the supernatural world. the information that she'd retained throughout her life was truly what made eleanor, eleanor. there was no changing that. the only spacey memories she had were of her parents, which she found saddening. of all the people she wished to remember clearly it was them, though unfortunately she'd left at a young age to go find herself. to her own dismay, she'd limited the time she'd been given to make memories with her parents, and it was a regret she would carry with her through the rest of her life. and considering she was a vampire, it was going to be a long one.
"marianna? that's a pretty name," she was always like this, soft, caring. it was who she was, but it was also a bit of a downfall. more often than not she cared more about those she'd barely met than she did about herself, it was a reckless trait to have but nonetheless it was who eleanor was. "eleanor, but feel free to call me nelly," she smiles wide, her eyes warm as she takes a seat, the white she wrapping her fluffy tail around her paws with a gracious ease. "if there's anything i can ever help with, please let me know," she chirps, her smile widening.
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - MOONMADE - 10-24-2018
[size=9pt]"Hold on," Interjects Moon, late to the gathering but still hanging on tight to Marina's first words. The reference has a glint returning to his eyes, the slightest bit more energy to his step. "Which Mufasa am I?" He wasn't going to settle for the latter Mufasa. He was the reigning token lion of the Clan. That Titan guy was an afterthought, at best. What the fuck kinda' lion's fur was black, anyway? Moon's convinced he dyes it.
A steady drag to his paws, a steady exhaustion in his muscles, and yet, the mention of the Disney movie reminds him of an ancient loving smile and dark arthritis hands, and he warms with the memory. Watching images flicker on a screen from the back window of a human's camp, enthralled. Dire conditions, not an ounce of food in his stomach, but still - in some ways - better times. "Actually, hold on-- Dibs on Simba. But, like, hakuna matata, Timon and Pumbaa, 'slimy yet satisfying' Simba. Dad Simba was an asshole."
A steady drag to his paws, a steady exhaustion in his muscles, and yet, the mention of the Disney movie reminds him of an ancient loving smile and dark arthritis hands, and he warms with the memory. Watching images flicker on a screen from the back window of a human's camp, enthralled. Dire conditions, not an ounce of food in his stomach, but still - in some ways - better times. "Actually, hold on-- Dibs on Simba. But, like, hakuna matata, Timon and Pumbaa, 'slimy yet satisfying' Simba. Dad Simba was an asshole."
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - BABY — - 10-24-2018
[table][tr][td]![[Image: 7a03b7301a5b61539f5c63d5ff357dae.jpg]](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/7a/03/b7/7a03b7301a5b61539f5c63d5ff357dae.jpg)
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YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME
YEAH, YOU KNOW YOU CAN'T GO BACK, IT'S TOO LATE TO SAY IT'S TOO LATE. YOU CAN'T TAKE BACK THAT YOU SAID NOTHING. HOW COULD YOU DO NOTHING?
Well well well, if it wasn't the Somali cat who nearly set the territory ablaze. Keyword: nearly. It hadn't been enough to cause serious damage, but had it grown out of control, the results could have been devastating. Titan didn't understand fire-bending powers, but he was sure glad that he didn't possess them. Knowing his short-fuse, pissing him off would be potentially fatalistic. Thankfully, Titan seemed to have a better grip on his temper these days.
The other "Mufasa" had now shown up, not understanding a word of what was being discussed by Moonmade. It was a reference that he wasn't understanding, clearly. Not that it was surprising; Titan didn't tend to understand a lot of pop culture references. His pride had been rather traditional and sheltered from the modern world.
Giving a furrow of his figurative brows to the leader, he gave a slight shake of his cranium before fixating his attention onto the subject of the gathering here: Marianna. "If by light show you mean burning down the building, then I think we'll pass." He had nearly snorted, referring to the first incident in which they had all met the young girl. "Titan. A Lunar Lieutenant here." His introduction was brief but direct, seeing as he really had nothing else to say at the moment.
The other "Mufasa" had now shown up, not understanding a word of what was being discussed by Moonmade. It was a reference that he wasn't understanding, clearly. Not that it was surprising; Titan didn't tend to understand a lot of pop culture references. His pride had been rather traditional and sheltered from the modern world.
Giving a furrow of his figurative brows to the leader, he gave a slight shake of his cranium before fixating his attention onto the subject of the gathering here: Marianna. "If by light show you mean burning down the building, then I think we'll pass." He had nearly snorted, referring to the first incident in which they had all met the young girl. "Titan. A Lunar Lieutenant here." His introduction was brief but direct, seeing as he really had nothing else to say at the moment.
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - ROSEWAR - 10-24-2018
❀ ❀ ❀ ROSEWAR DARLING ❀ ❀ ❀
"Impossible," she says, delicately, upon waltzing up to this little group with dainty steps and a practiced swish of her tail, "Simba has redeeming qualities. You do not." Her signature mums are strangled here, caught within the earth beneath the observatory floor, which shatters her image a bit; nevertheless, she still has her perfumed scent of flowers, up-tilted chin, and cold baby blue eyes to make up for the brief interruption to her cultivated appearance. And Pandora, of course; the tiny hummingbird spirit floats just over her shoulder, fluttering bitty wings frantically as Rosie lets her attention pass over these... creatures. There females are a bit pretty, but not nearly as pretty as her, and therefore she is neither interested in them nor jealous of their beauty. Absolutely none of their names have stuck with her and she has little interest in rectifying that fact. "I'm Rosie," she announces, primly, her stare flickering away from their absolute mess of a seraph to the girl who had brought together this little group. The dainty wolf couldn't let her keep the center of attention, after all. "Rosewar Darling. Your pleasure, I'm sure." Erebus Harbringer was left abandoned, the string of last names long since abandoned when she decided she hated her father and hated the family Glossy had brought with her. Darling, however. Darling had a nice ring to it.
Re: ALL LEGACIES HIDE IN THE EMBERS ✭ o - MIAMIHORROR - 10-24-2018
The moors have grown colder since he had last made footfall here. Gusts of wind would ruffle his cream-colored fur and the brush would whisper somberly in response, much unlike their gentle sway in the summer's breeze of yestermonth. It still looks the same — the bordering treeline has been painted over with warm honey hues that looked to be bathed in glittering gold when the setting sun hit, yet the field itself appears just as he recalls. He figures that the real differences may lie just below the surface, but he can never tell whether he'll be patient enough to stick around and find out.
Of course, he hasn't truly been gone that long, nor had he ever properly left. The wolf knew he was a drifter — hell, even coming back he didn't intend to stay forever, or God forbid he get restless. The male's heavy pawsteps announce his wandering forth, lopsided and lazy in gait. His copper gaze remains only half-interested and cool all the while, only a vague gleam behind them as he pads to a slow halt with an absentminded running of his tongue across knifelike canines. "Miami," he finally offers, rather suddenly and without preamble. His attention has been drifting nonchalantly across the group, but it now comes to rest on Marianna — Maria, as she says. "Where's 'at light show?" he asks with a vague tilt of his head and a roll of his scarred shoulders. Miamihorror's deadpan makes it impossible to tell when he's teasing, though there's that mild glint behind his eyes when he adds, "You oughta know that I don't usually give out my name for free."
Of course, he hasn't truly been gone that long, nor had he ever properly left. The wolf knew he was a drifter — hell, even coming back he didn't intend to stay forever, or God forbid he get restless. The male's heavy pawsteps announce his wandering forth, lopsided and lazy in gait. His copper gaze remains only half-interested and cool all the while, only a vague gleam behind them as he pads to a slow halt with an absentminded running of his tongue across knifelike canines. "Miami," he finally offers, rather suddenly and without preamble. His attention has been drifting nonchalantly across the group, but it now comes to rest on Marianna — Maria, as she says. "Where's 'at light show?" he asks with a vague tilt of his head and a roll of his scarred shoulders. Miamihorror's deadpan makes it impossible to tell when he's teasing, though there's that mild glint behind his eyes when he adds, "You oughta know that I don't usually give out my name for free."