01-18-2021, 03:52 PM
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 the end
Things had been going...okay, given everything that was happening in the meantime. The female made her rounds around the islands, rested as she needed, and seemed to be relearning life as a pirate fairly quickly. The routine was not stagnant, but it was still there, for her to lean back on when she hadn't anything to do, and she appreciated it for what it was. And hopefully, soon, with time and rest, she would be back to being just as useful to the Typhoon as the rest of her crewmates. For now, however, she'd simply take what she could get. And today, she'd find herself on another one of her short walks - this time along one of the shorelines, not far from Barracuda Bay, heading closer to the docks. She'd supposedly had a hut somewhere along this beach, and then her room in the Tempest. She'd yet to visit either, but perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to do so today. Maybe she could get some better clues to who others knew she was if she headed to her old hut.
She didn't quite remember the path to it, but she remembered what it looked like on the outside. A white porch with a pale blue exterior, an old koi pond to the side. She figured that would be easy enough to figure out. And she wasn't in any particular rush anyways, moving along at a relaxed pace. What exactly was in the hut, she wasn't sure. She was vaguely aware there was a deep history in it, many treasures she'd kept within it, memories she'd left, family she'd raised and lost. It'd remained mostly untouched since she'd left it to move to the captain's quarters. What all she hadn't brought with her sat dormant, and so she figured that would make for a potentially useful story she could learn.
It wouldn't take long for her to find the hut, remembering its look and the general area it was from the shoreline to the jungle. The former captain drew closer to the porch, greeted with its white wooden steps and a few paintings sitting out on it, slightly weathered from not being brushed off in several months. They were of the beach, of the sun, and of the moon. She moves closer to them, reaching out a paw to gently wipe at them. She would look at them for a few moments longer before pushing at the door, slowly entering the empty home.
The first thing she would be greeted with would be the dust. Her paw reaches up, swaying in a motion to clear the air around her, slight coughs escaping her. Instantly, she's filled with a sense of intrigue. Most of the furniture was still here. A large sofa with a few blankets draped over it, pillows stashed side to side. Various decorative rugs, several hanged paintings, a few wooden tables. It wasn't incredibly big, the living room to the side, and the dining room directly ahead, kitchen to the side of it, a spiraling staircase and two rooms behind it. Overall, it was quite quaint, mostly light hues all over with plenty of decorative colors to keep your eyes entertained. There was a homely feeling, moving around it, but also something so quietly tragic seeming to be crying within. There was a feeling she was missing something big, something she shouldn't have lost. And you may think, well, wouldn't such a feeling be normal for someone who'd lost their memories? Perhaps, but it was different in a sense. This felt different.
Her paws eventually lead her to one of the doors next to the stares. As she reaches out for it, a shockwave seems to crawl up her leg, to her spine. It paralyzes her for a moment, causes her to lose track of where she was. But with a blink, she's back to her goal, and she pushes the door open. What she finds when it's opened, is a bedroom. This room seemed to be dustiest of them all, and a wave of sadness drapes over the tigress. A large bed close to the ground sat untouched in the back center of the room, a small shelf to her side. A picture frame sits upon it, a dreamcatcher next to it, curled up and unused for quite some time. Looking at it, she feels a sense of unexplained dread, and so she turns her head, looking to the picture frame instead. It was a small photo, capturing a face she recognized. A dark purple doberman, antlers upon her head, sleeping peacefully in the sun.
She finds herself staring at it, and a sickly feeling begins to take over. Sadness that she couldn't figure out, head beginning to grow dizzy. She decides...perhaps it would be best to get some air. Maybe she's overexerted herself, coming here. Maybe she won't really find the answers she seeks, coming here alone. And so, shakily now, she begins to move out of the room, begins to approach the porch. Her pawsteps are going sloppy now, and she feels more shockwaves begin to pulsate with each step. Finally, she reaches the front door, and moves to the few steps on the porch, and then her legs give out, sending her body to the sand.
She lands on her side, the soft sand catching her in a manner that wouldn't result in anything more than maybe a bruise, but her body is out of her control now. Her gaze goes distant, sparks emitting from her wings and head, and her muscles begin to twitch back and forth in a sporadic manner.
What she was experiencing was unknown to her, but it was overwhelming. It lasts for what feels like an eternity, but, ultimately, it would be over within less than two minutes. And there was nothing she could do until then but lay there twitching, electricity sparkling.
*tldr: goldie was on a walk and decided to visit the hut she used to live in with her late wife, sam. since she still can't remember anything and doesn't know all of the details regarding the situation, she thought she could come up with some answers on her own. she ends up only feeling an unexplained sadness and dread, however, and feels a dizziness begin to take her over. she collapses just off the porch of the hut, twitching uncontrollably and has small electric sparks coming off her head and wings.
Things had been going...okay, given everything that was happening in the meantime. The female made her rounds around the islands, rested as she needed, and seemed to be relearning life as a pirate fairly quickly. The routine was not stagnant, but it was still there, for her to lean back on when she hadn't anything to do, and she appreciated it for what it was. And hopefully, soon, with time and rest, she would be back to being just as useful to the Typhoon as the rest of her crewmates. For now, however, she'd simply take what she could get. And today, she'd find herself on another one of her short walks - this time along one of the shorelines, not far from Barracuda Bay, heading closer to the docks. She'd supposedly had a hut somewhere along this beach, and then her room in the Tempest. She'd yet to visit either, but perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to do so today. Maybe she could get some better clues to who others knew she was if she headed to her old hut.
She didn't quite remember the path to it, but she remembered what it looked like on the outside. A white porch with a pale blue exterior, an old koi pond to the side. She figured that would be easy enough to figure out. And she wasn't in any particular rush anyways, moving along at a relaxed pace. What exactly was in the hut, she wasn't sure. She was vaguely aware there was a deep history in it, many treasures she'd kept within it, memories she'd left, family she'd raised and lost. It'd remained mostly untouched since she'd left it to move to the captain's quarters. What all she hadn't brought with her sat dormant, and so she figured that would make for a potentially useful story she could learn.
It wouldn't take long for her to find the hut, remembering its look and the general area it was from the shoreline to the jungle. The former captain drew closer to the porch, greeted with its white wooden steps and a few paintings sitting out on it, slightly weathered from not being brushed off in several months. They were of the beach, of the sun, and of the moon. She moves closer to them, reaching out a paw to gently wipe at them. She would look at them for a few moments longer before pushing at the door, slowly entering the empty home.
The first thing she would be greeted with would be the dust. Her paw reaches up, swaying in a motion to clear the air around her, slight coughs escaping her. Instantly, she's filled with a sense of intrigue. Most of the furniture was still here. A large sofa with a few blankets draped over it, pillows stashed side to side. Various decorative rugs, several hanged paintings, a few wooden tables. It wasn't incredibly big, the living room to the side, and the dining room directly ahead, kitchen to the side of it, a spiraling staircase and two rooms behind it. Overall, it was quite quaint, mostly light hues all over with plenty of decorative colors to keep your eyes entertained. There was a homely feeling, moving around it, but also something so quietly tragic seeming to be crying within. There was a feeling she was missing something big, something she shouldn't have lost. And you may think, well, wouldn't such a feeling be normal for someone who'd lost their memories? Perhaps, but it was different in a sense. This felt different.
Her paws eventually lead her to one of the doors next to the stares. As she reaches out for it, a shockwave seems to crawl up her leg, to her spine. It paralyzes her for a moment, causes her to lose track of where she was. But with a blink, she's back to her goal, and she pushes the door open. What she finds when it's opened, is a bedroom. This room seemed to be dustiest of them all, and a wave of sadness drapes over the tigress. A large bed close to the ground sat untouched in the back center of the room, a small shelf to her side. A picture frame sits upon it, a dreamcatcher next to it, curled up and unused for quite some time. Looking at it, she feels a sense of unexplained dread, and so she turns her head, looking to the picture frame instead. It was a small photo, capturing a face she recognized. A dark purple doberman, antlers upon her head, sleeping peacefully in the sun.
She finds herself staring at it, and a sickly feeling begins to take over. Sadness that she couldn't figure out, head beginning to grow dizzy. She decides...perhaps it would be best to get some air. Maybe she's overexerted herself, coming here. Maybe she won't really find the answers she seeks, coming here alone. And so, shakily now, she begins to move out of the room, begins to approach the porch. Her pawsteps are going sloppy now, and she feels more shockwaves begin to pulsate with each step. Finally, she reaches the front door, and moves to the few steps on the porch, and then her legs give out, sending her body to the sand.
She lands on her side, the soft sand catching her in a manner that wouldn't result in anything more than maybe a bruise, but her body is out of her control now. Her gaze goes distant, sparks emitting from her wings and head, and her muscles begin to twitch back and forth in a sporadic manner.
What she was experiencing was unknown to her, but it was overwhelming. It lasts for what feels like an eternity, but, ultimately, it would be over within less than two minutes. And there was nothing she could do until then but lay there twitching, electricity sparkling.
*tldr: goldie was on a walk and decided to visit the hut she used to live in with her late wife, sam. since she still can't remember anything and doesn't know all of the details regarding the situation, she thought she could come up with some answers on her own. she ends up only feeling an unexplained sadness and dread, however, and feels a dizziness begin to take her over. she collapses just off the porch of the hut, twitching uncontrollably and has small electric sparks coming off her head and wings.
NOTHING'S EVER LOST FOREVER, IT'S JUST HIDING IN THE RECESS OF YOUR MIND AND WHEN YOU NEED IT, IT WILL COME TO YOU AT NIGHT. I MISS THE YELLOW. I MISS THE YELLING AND THE SHAKEDOWN. I'M NOT COMPLAINING, NO, I GOT A BETTER SET OF KNIVES NOW. I MISS MY DRUMMER, MY DEAD STEPBROTHER, AND THE PIT CROWD. AND CHUCK AND MATTY - IF THEY COULD SEE ME THEY'D BE SO PROUD.
