hotel room / basket weaving

[brandykit]

Bedrest. That had been the order, sharp as a tongue from Rosemary and a clear and direct message, despite the events happening around him. He had been confined to the Temple, his eyes searching the area as he laid there. 'Doodle.' Had been her suggestion. Yeah, right. Like it was that easy without his paw. His head settled down, wings spread out and occupying space. His green eyes searched the space, again, and again, for stimulation.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Brandy stood, limping his way out of the temple, using his wings to balance himself, keeping his broken paw cradled close to his chest. As soon as he can, he had lifted off of the ground and flew himself back into the jungle, before settling down. He collected leaves and grasses in his muzzle, before slowly returning out of the jungle. He made his way back to the temple, laying outside and slowly starting to weave, using his left paw and muzzle to duck and weave the leaves. This was better then nothing.

"SPEECH"

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tags

[riftweaver]

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RIFTWEAVER

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[div style="background-color:#242924;width:90%;max-height:200px;overflow: auto;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: white;"] "speech"

Riftweaver had been reeling since the revelation Rosemary had dropped upon the two of them. He was a half. Half a soul. Half himself. That was a terrifying prospect, one that inevitably made him question his very identity. Who was he, really? Was he just the piece Brandy had left behind?

Yet, along with these rather distressing emotions, there was a different feeling that accompanied the revelation. Peace, happiness, belonging. All words that failed to describe the way his soul stopped screaming once in proximity of his other half. It was for this reason that the male crept forward, eyeing the baskets.

If they were to coexist as two separate people, despite their shared origins, they needed to learn to get along. They were two halves of a whole, but their sense of self and their personalities varied in great contrast. Riftweaver seemed to be softer, more sensitive, where as Brandyskies seemed to have a better grip on his emotions. It was jarring.

One would figure, generally, that they would be much more alike. That their personalities, speech patterns and everything else would be similar. Perhaps their differences boiled down to their collective experiences. Where as Rift really only remembered a few vague details from their past, Brandy seemed to remember everything. The leafy-maned male was less shaped by their past and more shaped by his experiences since the split, since those were the only experiences he could really recall at any capacity.

The male allowed these thoughts to shift through his brain as he took in Brandyskies' appearance. He considered asking for his opinion on the whole thing, but after a moment he decided to ask something else instead. Now probably just wasn't the time to discuss their situation. "How's the leg?" he asked instead, shuffling his paws uneasily. Did Brandy hate him? Was this a bad idea?

[W]isker

[Keona.]

[table][tr][td]

keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

[/td][td]

[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

The sound of moving plants and leaves together.  Careful patterns.  The tiny dealer recognizes it as weaving, though she is oft unaware of what was being created.  Simply told of the craft by the familiar movements and soft sounds.

Her ears flick and perk as she pads closer, conscious of the strange... Connection, she felt between the two.  Word around had gotten to her, but she had yet encountered the duo herself.  Was it their souls she sensed...?

"Aloha," Keona offered in soft, polite greeting, her tail twitching curiously behind her.  "What're you weaving?"

[/td][/tr][/table]

© MADI

[roan ;]

SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

Roan had been made aware of the whole situation that was going on with Brandy and Riftweaver, through Rosemary's quick and firm words in his direction. He had done nothing to stop her as she had come into the temple with Brandy in tow, not figuring that it was really necessary to try and stop her. She knew what she was doing, and she also already knew what was wrong with Brandy, so he was content to remain in his little corner and occasionally provide her with herbs. Of course, once some time had passed and Brandy was settled into the temple, Roan was pretty much forced to deal with him. It was pretty hard to avoid a patient when you lived right next to their place of rest. One might think he'd have questions to ask Brandy, about how his soul had gotten split into two, or what he really remembered. Much to the contrary, however, the soothsayer didn't have many questions at all. He knew a thing or two about odd soul phenomena – considering he was a reincarnation, himself – and he had also never really considered himself and Brandy to be all that close.

Even if he wasn't all that fascinated with Brandy's situation, though, Roan knew what the usual protocols were for patients. He had kept an eye on Brandy from afar as Rosemary had asked him to, occasionally glancing at the other in her periphery as he sorted herbs and cleaned up his workspace. In spite of this watchful eye, Brandy had still managed to slip out during one of the times where the medic was fully distracted. So, when he turned back around, the siamese was surprised to see that not only was Brandy weaving, but he also had visitors. He had to force himself to suppress a groan, quietly mourning his peace and quiet before he questioned Brandy, "...Where did you get the supplies for that? I don't recall having leaves just laying about." He wasn't going to have Brandy going out and making his condition worse – especially not when Rift seemed to be a semi-constant visitor.

DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!

— Reggan

[brandykit]

The whole 'half' situation made him angry. He didn't deserve to be torn in two, while he had made mistakes, he didn't deserve to be two people. A huff left his muzzle as he saw his "counterpart" step closer. His vision raised to the other as he approached him. A frown crossed his muzzle. Therapy, had been Rosemary's suggestion. Therapy fixed everything, didn't it. His fur fluffed up as he turned his head away, leaning his head down and using his teeth in a delicate manner to weave another row before speaking to Riftweaver.

No respect, it seemed. "My leg is healing. Just fine, before you ask." His retort was sharp, his tongue seemingly dripping in poison. Brandy's green eyes were narrowed just a bit, the fire roaring in his broken soul not letting him go free. He sighed, his head turning away and resetting how he was laying, his wings tensing up a bit, before he suddenly hopped to three paws, keeping his fourth cradled to his chest. His eyes shifted towards Roan as he did, before addressing the now two that stood in front of him.

His eyes lowered to the side, observing the leaf woven baskets, before responding to Keona, his gaze shifting away from his quote 'twin'. He gave her a slightly more cheerful smile, hopping on his front paw one more time. "Some baskets and trays. Just thought I'd.. try to be helpful in my useless state." He winked at her, his tail swaying slowly behind him. The buzzing in his head was overwhelming, so by the time Roan had turned around to speak to them, Brandy had to fight to focus on the healer.

Roan, while perhaps a bit distant, had been an okay person to be around. Didn't ask him much, didn't annoy him. He was grateful for that much. Even so, Roan had bored him in the first few hours. You couldn't blame Brandy, he was an active guy, didn't want to sit around trying to make small conversation with someone who didn't say much back to him. A sigh left his muzzle as Roan came to speak to him. "They were laying around. Outside. In the jungle." Brandy responded, lifting his eyebrows a tiny bit, before a smirk barely touched the corner of his mouth. He thought he was hilarious.

"SPEECH"

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tags

[riftweaver]

[align=center]

RIFTWEAVER

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[div style="background-color:#242924;width:90%;max-height:200px;overflow: auto;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;color: white;"] "speech"

Riftweaver flattened his ears, pulling back a bit. He could understand the anger Brandy felt, but that didn't make it sting any less. He offered merely a nod as he pulled away, his two-toned gaze lingering on the other. I didn't mean to bother you, but look. We're stuck with each other. We can either get along, or we're gonna be looking at a long road." He snapped back before pushing to his feet. The male shook his head, muttering to himself as he turned and began to lumber away. He didn't need this. Brandyskies could be mad all he wanted, but they were in this together, going through it together. Did he think that Rift was exactly pleased to find out he was just half of a soul? That he was just the piece left behind?

[W]isker

[ROXANNE R.]

The entire predicament of broken souls was an odd subject to Roxanne if she was being honest, she probably would never know how it felt to be someone else and you shared or had shared a soul together. She doubted that she would ever be put into that situation but it did get the gears grinding in her mind even if it did usually ended up with her having a headache considering how both of the boys had been arguing when they had first seen each other. The Captain noticed the small group that had decided to go by the Temple and it made her curious, she began to change her beeline to towards the shore and to the Temple with both of her ears perked forward, her whiskers twitching lightly. It didn't take long to see that Keona, Roan, and the two stooges were currently present.

"I hope you're not already causing trouble, Brandy. You just got home," Came the teasing voice of the draconic feline, she would brush up against Roan feeling his tension so she decided to stick close to him. The boy was much too stressed and she would have to pull him away from his duties at some point, she would touch her nose to his cheek only to murmur quietly "I hope they aren't giving you any trouble, my little ram." The last bit she would coo out but before her son could say anything, her attention diverted over to Riftweaver. It didn't seem like Brandy Brandy his other half, regardless, Rox would sigh and shake her head knowing that boys will be boys. "That's quite a nice basket that you've constructed, Brandy." She decided to say at last as she sat down glancing over to Keona offering her a greeting.

[roan ;]

SOOTHSAYER ❝ ROAN ❞ THE TYPHOON

In the back of his mind, Roan supposed that he should've expected Brandy's smartass retort to his question. After all, the other had been a snarky pain in the ass before his disappearance and subsequent... split, so why should things have changed? He resisted the urge to let a sour expression flicker across his face, instead just shaking his head and sighing. He muttered, his blue eyes briefly narrowing as he spoke, "Whatever... just don't blame me if Goldie comes back and scolds your ears off." Even as he said that, the soothsayer knew that such a thing happening was unlikely. Goldie was still recovering from her own injury, and considering she could barely remember most of her children, he doubted she'd fit right back into the mother mold so quickly. Despite this, he had to have at least a little bit of hope. Even if Goldie never returned to her old self, her children still deserved a mom that they could rely on – and he firmly believed that Goldie still was that mom, no matter what she remembered.

Of course, such thoughts were beginning to lead to a spiral, a heavy weight settling in his stomach like a stone. It happened whenever he thought of Goldie's predicament, and all that had been lost. Thankfully, he was pulled from the sand trap by his mama, jumping slightly as Roxie's side brushed against his. He glanced up at her, blinking a few times to bring himself back into reality, before snorting. He shook his head from side to side, ignoring the way that his face was burning at being called little ram at his age, "It's fine... I've dealt with worse patients before, and I'm sure I'll deal with worse ones later. It seems to be a pattern in The Typhoon that nobody likes taking even the briefest break from their work..." There was a touch of bitterness to his tone, but he knew that he was a bit hypocritical in saying that. After all, he rarely liked to take breaks from his own work, as demonstrated by the tension that lingered in his shoulders.

DON'T ASK FOR HELP, YOU'RE ALL ALONE
YOU'LL HAVE TO ANSWER TO YOUR OWN PRESSURE!

— Reggan