Post by Nemo on Jan 6, 2014 18:42:42 GMT -5
Sophie fled. She fled for all she was worth - she beat her wings desperately, making little strained, desperate grunting noises as her mind reached out for someone, anyone, anything that could possibly hear her. There was an emptiness to the darkness, a lack of something so fundamental she hadn't known it was missing until it was gone;
Everyone else.
She was alone. It was a horrible feeling... One far worse than the death that snapped at her tail and bellowed for her blood in a thousand voices. The Pale were after her, an there was nobody... nobody who could or would help her. She was in exile.
When the first claws tore into her haunch, when the Pale consumed her, she was already lost - she was... in exile.
The Ravener sat up abruptly from the softness of the warm fleshbed in which she'd lay. Her gaze focused around the chamber she rested in, and, panicked, she reached out - not with her hands, but with her mind. The walls parted in her perception, and the dull thrum of life came for the asking.
Sophie a voice said, soft and melodious directly into her thoughts. It was femenine, deep, and gentle, but emotionless as the void. Sophie the voice said again, and warmth encompassed her psyche.
The time of dreams has passed / The Darkness does not hold you / The pale cannot reach you / In our arms we hold you./ Regain yourself the woman's voice said, and words weren't quite what happened. It was... Truth - visions, a sensations of serenity, the sound of the ship's heartbeat and her own... running together... with the thousands of others onboard. She smiled, and curled a little, just basking in the words.
It was hard to explain how the words made her feel. Ever been hugged? How about... By two, three, or four people? Imagine that feeling... Times a thousand. Each part accepted the other. Each part rested in the womb of the ship, the heart of it beating as their own, deep within. Millions of other, smaller lives too, lived and breathed among them, with them, within them. The entire sensation thrummed and pulsated and hummed on a level so deep, so fundamental she could feel the throb of her whole being in sympathy. That was the peace of it, the raw... One-ness. She was Sophie, part of the community. She belonged there.
Sophie the voice came again, and this time, the young Zephyr entwined herself with her blood mother's thought of her. Gentle-Child's-Wisdom, Sophie, felt a trace of warmth, of joy in her mother's heart, before it was hidden once more behind the broodmother's Vigil.
What is a Vigil? There are those among the Ravener-kind who hone their minds, who hear the pulse of the community differently and feel it in truth - as pure sensations instead of the trace understandings the rest of their kind can manage. And they do this constantly - to survive, to maintain control of themselves, these 'Tacticians' take on the Vigil - a mental discipline to protect those around them and their own sanity by walling away all emotion. Her mother was one of these.
And so, Sophie rose from her bed, and felt the layers slide off her smoothly, leaving faint trails of warmth behind, slicking her dark, blue-green fur to her body and making her shiver a little as the cooler air hit her. Something familiar made a sleepy chittering little sound, and slid free after her, tight on her heels, brushing her legs. The young zephyr smiled, crouched to all fours, and lowered her head to face the creature.
Hello, Barnibus she crooned, and the hard, dark-carapaced, crystal-headed caterpillar like thing raised up to greet her. It didn't return the greeting with words, but with affectionate regard, and hunger. Sophie nodded, rest back on her haunches, and offered one of her major wings to it, fingers curled in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of a falconer calling his bird.
Barnibus laid his head on her wrist, and little legs wriggled, gripping her gently in hooked appendages as it pulled its way up her body, rippling as it adjusted its grip to make progress. Sophie was used to the feeling - by now, it was quite familiar to the young female, as was the cool, prickly sensation of its underside grooming her fur. It made its way to her back, aligning with her spine, and spread itself open gently, undulating as it overtook her in a familiar embrace. Sophie's body locked up.
It wasn't that the symbiotic bond was painful to initiate. It was just... Overwhelming. Every inch of her was groomed, the symbiote's form shrouding her from head to toe, feeding on everything that yet clung to her fur from her bed, on the bacteria innate to her flesh and coat, and tapping into her metabolism in the process. Her vision swam as the blue crystal of Barnibus's face closed in over her own, then cleared as if the creature was not there. The head receded a moment later to behave like a collar around her neck, but her vision did not change again.
Next, Sophie moved to the small wooden chest in which she stored her few things, crystal making a soft hum as it grate against itself in the hinge. Beads of bone, of colored wood, and of crystal were braided into the female's now dry mane. A small container of stone was unscrewed, and sweet-scented wax was produced. The youth brought the favored article to her cheek and breathed deeply of it, eyes lidding. So wonderful... The flowers of the trade world were heady and delicate, and she'd wept to smell them the first time. To have this scent in a wax perfume... She'd gladly traded two of her Mormius plants. They would serve the merchant well as in kind the wax would serve her. She dipped a digit into it, and, using A small piece of mirror she held precious in her chest, she applied the wax as a golden bead on her forehead, and traced it through her fur, tracing a methodical pattern around her eyes, staining her coat. Once mirror and stone flask were replaced, she was dressed.
Everyone else.
She was alone. It was a horrible feeling... One far worse than the death that snapped at her tail and bellowed for her blood in a thousand voices. The Pale were after her, an there was nobody... nobody who could or would help her. She was in exile.
When the first claws tore into her haunch, when the Pale consumed her, she was already lost - she was... in exile.
The Ravener sat up abruptly from the softness of the warm fleshbed in which she'd lay. Her gaze focused around the chamber she rested in, and, panicked, she reached out - not with her hands, but with her mind. The walls parted in her perception, and the dull thrum of life came for the asking.
Sophie a voice said, soft and melodious directly into her thoughts. It was femenine, deep, and gentle, but emotionless as the void. Sophie the voice said again, and warmth encompassed her psyche.
The time of dreams has passed / The Darkness does not hold you / The pale cannot reach you / In our arms we hold you./ Regain yourself the woman's voice said, and words weren't quite what happened. It was... Truth - visions, a sensations of serenity, the sound of the ship's heartbeat and her own... running together... with the thousands of others onboard. She smiled, and curled a little, just basking in the words.
It was hard to explain how the words made her feel. Ever been hugged? How about... By two, three, or four people? Imagine that feeling... Times a thousand. Each part accepted the other. Each part rested in the womb of the ship, the heart of it beating as their own, deep within. Millions of other, smaller lives too, lived and breathed among them, with them, within them. The entire sensation thrummed and pulsated and hummed on a level so deep, so fundamental she could feel the throb of her whole being in sympathy. That was the peace of it, the raw... One-ness. She was Sophie, part of the community. She belonged there.
Sophie the voice came again, and this time, the young Zephyr entwined herself with her blood mother's thought of her. Gentle-Child's-Wisdom, Sophie, felt a trace of warmth, of joy in her mother's heart, before it was hidden once more behind the broodmother's Vigil.
What is a Vigil? There are those among the Ravener-kind who hone their minds, who hear the pulse of the community differently and feel it in truth - as pure sensations instead of the trace understandings the rest of their kind can manage. And they do this constantly - to survive, to maintain control of themselves, these 'Tacticians' take on the Vigil - a mental discipline to protect those around them and their own sanity by walling away all emotion. Her mother was one of these.
And so, Sophie rose from her bed, and felt the layers slide off her smoothly, leaving faint trails of warmth behind, slicking her dark, blue-green fur to her body and making her shiver a little as the cooler air hit her. Something familiar made a sleepy chittering little sound, and slid free after her, tight on her heels, brushing her legs. The young zephyr smiled, crouched to all fours, and lowered her head to face the creature.
Hello, Barnibus she crooned, and the hard, dark-carapaced, crystal-headed caterpillar like thing raised up to greet her. It didn't return the greeting with words, but with affectionate regard, and hunger. Sophie nodded, rest back on her haunches, and offered one of her major wings to it, fingers curled in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of a falconer calling his bird.
Barnibus laid his head on her wrist, and little legs wriggled, gripping her gently in hooked appendages as it pulled its way up her body, rippling as it adjusted its grip to make progress. Sophie was used to the feeling - by now, it was quite familiar to the young female, as was the cool, prickly sensation of its underside grooming her fur. It made its way to her back, aligning with her spine, and spread itself open gently, undulating as it overtook her in a familiar embrace. Sophie's body locked up.
It wasn't that the symbiotic bond was painful to initiate. It was just... Overwhelming. Every inch of her was groomed, the symbiote's form shrouding her from head to toe, feeding on everything that yet clung to her fur from her bed, on the bacteria innate to her flesh and coat, and tapping into her metabolism in the process. Her vision swam as the blue crystal of Barnibus's face closed in over her own, then cleared as if the creature was not there. The head receded a moment later to behave like a collar around her neck, but her vision did not change again.
Next, Sophie moved to the small wooden chest in which she stored her few things, crystal making a soft hum as it grate against itself in the hinge. Beads of bone, of colored wood, and of crystal were braided into the female's now dry mane. A small container of stone was unscrewed, and sweet-scented wax was produced. The youth brought the favored article to her cheek and breathed deeply of it, eyes lidding. So wonderful... The flowers of the trade world were heady and delicate, and she'd wept to smell them the first time. To have this scent in a wax perfume... She'd gladly traded two of her Mormius plants. They would serve the merchant well as in kind the wax would serve her. She dipped a digit into it, and, using A small piece of mirror she held precious in her chest, she applied the wax as a golden bead on her forehead, and traced it through her fur, tracing a methodical pattern around her eyes, staining her coat. Once mirror and stone flask were replaced, she was dressed.