Personal Quest [SE] Sing Down the Stars
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 30 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,914
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#1
Of all the Longheat traditions that Jigano had learned about, entertaining Safrin had been the one the bard had most been looking forward to. She had been kind and wise and gracious when he had met her before at Amalia’s side, and the thought of offering her a song or story had appealed to him greatly. Preparations had begun first with Amalia and Rory, and from there to a small handful of others who might enjoy such a convivial little get-together. Perhaps selfishly, Jigano hadn’t wanted things to get too big, lest they become difficult to organize, but he had been glad of the interest his idea had stirred up.

Bring food or drink to share, your voice, a willingness to use it, and an instrument of your choice – however simple or skilled you are at it.

Those had been his requests of his friends as he had gone about his own preparations for the night, borrowing a shovel from Rory to carefully cut and remove sod from a corner of the Glade and shifting rocks and glowstones around to form a well-contained firepit in a clearing beneath the evening sky. He stacked it with wood; fragrant apple and birch and steady ash. Two bottles of Valair cider stayed cooled in a nest of snow moss as his own contributions to the evening entertainment, and his harp was carefully packed in its case in the shade of a nearby tree. As the light faded and the stars began to come out, he settled down on the woolen blanket he’d brought to protect himself from the dew and began to idly tune the harp, drawing forth a coaxing, cheery melody to lead his friends to the fire that began to smolder and catch beneath the sprinkle of stars in the darkening sky. Beside him Isuma chirruped along, when she wasn’t distracted pouncing after the fireflies that began to rise from the grasses all around in their timeless summer dance.


What will you bring to the fireside?

1. Amalia
2. Deimos

No posting order
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,191
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#2
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
The Reaper had only come face-to-face with the gods of his previous origin, and they very rarely looked upon him fondly. Here, in the midst of many worthy individuals, he hadn’t been given a cursory glance (abandoned and forsaken, right in the telling of his titles, right in the hooks of his magic, right at the very core of who he was); they didn’t entertain his presence when he begged for loved one’s absolutions, and so in turn he didn’t bother to entertain them either. The only reason he’d even wanted to attend Jigano’s impending get-together were the people presiding in it (and even this seemed odd, so foreign, so new, but it beat against his heart anyway, and he reveled and rejoiced in it, even if he’d never openly express it).

In preparation, he brought some deer meat he’d frozen and salted over the winter, tucked in his bag, bits and pieces already caught, so that they might have some fresh venison roasting over the fire. Unfortunately, his voice would have to take part as well – he was infinitely more comfortable in silence, in vigilant, hushed corners, and the only others times he’d ever sung had been more drunken parties by campfires and makeshift, ivory tents, triumphant, ridiculous stanzas eventually waning into the night and absurd stupor. Poor Samuel and Amalia had bore the brunt of his incapable singing talents later with his attempts to lure the Luxere closer to him; thankfully they’d either taken pity on him or preferred another’s harmonies and melodies to his deep vocals. An instrument was also an unlikely thing; he greatly preferred weaponry to any artistic talent, but had managed to barter a drum, something his hands could beat upon and feel a little more comfortable and familiar with.

At the sign of firelight beneath the evening, twilight sky, Deimos ventured closer and closer, carrying his wares and supplies effortlessly, listening to the strings of Jigano’s harp waver back and forth. He didn’t think he’d be the first to arrive, glancing along the woodline and glade for a sign of Amalia, of Rory, but only caught the gryphon hunting, stalking, and bounding for fireflies. “Jigano,” he implored, a nod of his head granted and given, respectful and polite when he didn’t have any other measures to convey, the slightest of smiles resting on his mouth, and then bringing his sack to rest upon the grass, pulling its contents out one by one, allowing them to glow in the haze of firelight while he grabbed the rest. The venison would require some sticks to cook, sizzle, and roast over the inferno, but otherwise everything else would be fine – the little drum was placed a bit more in the shadows, as if begging to not be utilized at all.
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 2,202
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#3
Amalia, of course, has brought food, a collection of rolls in summer flavors: garlic and rosemary, cardamom and honey, sage and thyme and cheese. In a light green coat she ventures forth, Jyoti resting in her hood. Both are excited to join their friends, to sing beneath stars and herald the rise of Safrin, though the baker feels anxious too, insecure within her task. The starwhale is an echo of the goddess herself; Amalia can only hope to provide some small semblance of imagery, a dim facsimile of the beauty and wonder that makes the goddess the girl loves.

Coming upon the firelit glade, Amalia shifts her staff between fingers before drifting from the trees. Jigano is there, his silver hair gleaming in the orange glow; and Deimos, stalwart and shadowed, a monolith among them, causing her heart to catch in her throat. "Hello, she murmurs quietly, reaching up with nervous fingers to push away a lock of the hair which has escaped her golden plait. She had hoped to see more people: Rory at least, and perhaps Rexanna, but so far they are three alone.

Jyoti trills and flies ahead,  searching for Isuma and leaving the baker alone. She does not know where to sit, and who by, so Amalia continues to stand. "I brought some food." Smiling shyly (why shy, why nervous, why does her heart beat like a drum?) she pulls out the rolls, striding to offer some to Jigano before coming to pause before the behemoth, the mountainous man who holds her heart. She wants him to lead, to tell her what he desires, how much he is willing to share. She does not fear Jigano's judgment, but she respects the Reaper's privacy, and will not reveal the wound she has made of him unless he wishes it to be so.
a m a l i a
You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired
Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there


Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 30 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,914
MP:
#4
He had expected Amalia or Kiada, perhaps, to arrive first, full of life and laughter and bright eagerness for the late-night celebration. Deimos, dark and mysterious, contradictory and complicated, definitely not foe but not quite friend… Deimos was not the first face he had thought to see sliding out of the shadows to take his place at the fox’s merry fire, but they had managed an equilibrium in spite of their rocky interlude and he was as welcome as the others. ”Well met,” the bard greeted with a smile, fingers playing a sprightly arpeggio across the strings. Isuma cocked her head curiously at the strange human, reep?ing a cautious hello as she paused in her hunting – and then squeaked a much more joyful noise as she went bounding towards the graceful, slender girl who slipped from darkness into light, and the little whale who accompanied her.

Jigano laughed at the feel of the gryphlet’s joy sliding through their bond, letting echoes of harp notes linger in the air as he stretched a hand to beckon Amalia close, nodding appreciation of her rolls. That left two…

But perhaps their music would guide any stragglers to their fire.

”An excellent way to start the night!” he declared, grinning around at the faces of friends, allies, and companions alike. ”We don’t want to grow faint from hunger in our work tonight, so let’s make our meal first and start thinking about what we want to sing about! What do you think might be good themes for our song?”

Task 1: work together to make a meal, and come up with ideas for the topic of the song they’ll make!

No posting order this round

PQ will update in 48 hours, or whenever everyone has posted
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,191
MP:
#5
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
The beast waited, as he often did, for any blunt, obvious disapproval of his presence. It’d been a frequent occurrence in past lives, passed looks of disdain, abhorrence, fear, or outright distaste: for the representation of who and what he was, misunderstandings cooling and warping, the chilling silence accompanying his essence. He wasn’t sure if Jigano wanted him there or not, their light, easygoing balance in the bakery going quickly south the moment the bard admitted follies on an adventure gone eerily wrong – apologies and mends struggling to take, and though he’d tried, the measure of mischief didn’t quite level along his bloodstream in the here and now. Maybe it was gone. Maybe it was vacant. Maybe it just hadn’t hit the right notes yet. He still smiled in the Reaper’s direction, and he took it as a step, swallowing down the awkward disposition settling in his core; the acceptance he so readily sought seemingly remaining. His smile stayed, a brow arching at the notes on strings.

The next, and only one, to join them though was a wild reprieve, and the Reaper did allow his grin to become much more earnest, brighter, lifting out of stone and rubble with surprising ease. The warrior presided calmly while his heart beat a mercurial rhapsody, back and forth, blinding and unwinding, as she sauntered forth, proffering her rolls and pastries to Jigano, then the inaction, the unknown, the widening gaps between perseverance, preservation, and secrets. His brow arched at her, an unsaid inquiry, before a hand came to pat the log’s empty space beside him, a provision for her even she was willing to take it. He really didn’t give a damn if Jigano saw or not; eventually, despite their furtive natures, they would’ve given up some thread of nuance or demonstration of their affections.

Jigano’s cheer spiraled back across the surface, and his piercing gaze was forced to break away from hers, staring at the bard as he insisted upon what they’d do next. It was fine by him; the gestures were unfamiliar in the here and now (once – he’d have committed to this a hundred times, drinking by the fire and shouting, laughing, until their throats were raw and hoarse with the conviction of soused soldiers; remembering victories instead of defeats). “I have some venison,” he proceeded into the stoking foundations, leaning forward to grab the meat. Then, without much aplomb or fanfare, he rose from his chosen seat and curled his hands over the fire, the flames. Within an instant, the silent enchantments whittled and released from his hands, settling in quiet fashion – wooden stands and spokes stretched high and over the fire, while a metallic rod centered itself across the beams: a spit, so that the pieces of raw deer could be cooked to anyone’s desire. He slid the rod out of place, skewered it through three portions with an obvious ease, as if puncturing, lacerating, and stabbing through flesh, blood, and marrow was a regular ritual, then placed the bar back along its stand. He’d turn it from time to time, ensuring every side was cooked through.

As for themes for a song…he was only familiar with themes of avarice, greed, and drunken caterwauling. His eyes found Amalia’s for an instant, hoping to share some hidden amusement (that’s a lie, that’s a lie springing in his head, unbidden), before sliding back over to Jigano. “New adventures? Opportunities?” It was what lingered in the ominous shores; the Fae’s forest, the inclusion of friends, stalwart goals and ambitions crisscrossing in lines and wires. And if not, perhaps another could come up with a better anomaly to pledge a tune to.
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 2,202
MP:
#6
The invitation is extended and accepted. Casting a shy smile toward Jigano, Amalia sits by Deimos' side, her hand ghosting gently over his, their shoulders breaths away from touch. Will he sing tonight, she wonders, be the boisterous boy who lurks beneath the facade of icy chill? There is nothing she wants more than that, to bring him into the embrace of her loved ones, unite the pieces of the family that she has so fervently built.

Lightly flushed, the baker busies herself with producing more foodstuffs, pointedly looking anywhere but at the present men. From her bag comes even more: a loaf of cheese bread, a tankard of tea. She lies these out as Deimos rises, though she cannot help the catch of breath in her lungs as she watches him create a rod and spit, his magic spun miraculous, building something out of air. Through lowered lashes Amalia stares, her dark eyes sparkling with fascinated affection, pleasure with the situation warming narrow bones.

As Deimos returns to his position the baker rises in her turn, a cup of tea and slice of bread brought over to Jigano. For a moment she pauses once again, letting her gaze slip between them, a contented smile on the slender face as they exchange ideas, thoughts and plans. Her eyes meet Deimos' and the girl grins, remembering that day beneath the trees, their rancorous onslaught on the Luxere's ears. So much has changed from then to now; it is dizzying to comprehend.

Returning to her place at Deimos' side, the girl hums thoughtfully, her chin in her hands. "Friendship," the girl suggests at last, looking pointedly between the men, a smile softening her face. "And new beginnings."
a m a l i a
You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired
Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there


Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 30 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914
MP:
#7
"Venison would be very welcome," Jigano accepted Deimos's offering with a smile, more at ease with him now that Amalia was present to smooth the rough edges of their interactions. "Thank you!" He wasn't sure if the big man meant jerky or some other dried meat, but the fox in him was pleased to see the spit take shape and raw flesh hung over the flames to cook. He set his harp gently aside for a moment to bring a bottle of cider across to where the pair - and they did seem to be a pair, or at least, in the beginnings of a sweet, slow courtship - sat on their shared log.

He returned to his own spot, settling in and smiling brightly as Amalia brought her own treats by, accepting bread and tea gladly, and Isuma barreled over to claim her share of the bread as he chuckled. Their suggestions were both met with thoughtful nods as he took his time over the baked goods and then washed them down with cold cider. "New beginnings and adventures," he repeated, well-satisfied with the themes as he picked his harp back up, fingers beginning to pick at the strings with a thoughtful exploration of the notes.

"I thought we could take turns with the verses," he explained, testing first a low run of notes, then adjusting them up half an octave. "A game of words, trying to blend the meter and rhyme. I'll come up with a couplet, then toss it to Amalia, then Deimos will round out the first verse. What do you think?" He said it with a glint of challenge in his eyes, playful and a bit wicked as he found a good tune to work their lyrics into. He knew Amalia for a songstress, but Deimos was a more stoic type. He was curious to see what the big man would do when it came to rhyme and song, music and meter. "A song for Safrin, celebrating what we've found together here, and what is yet to come!"

He played the tune again to set the rhythm and then a third time to make sure Deimos and Amalia had it down before he opened his mouth, a rich, deep tenor shaping the words he found to begin their song:

"Beneath the stars and moon so bright,
We thank you, Safrin, for this night,"




What lyrics will you come up with and how will they fit in with the ones before them?
1. Amalia
2. Deimos

PQ will move on in 48 hours or when everyone has posted
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#8
The smell of venison makes her stomach rumble; Amalia bites impatiently into her bread, waiting for the meat to cook. Washing it down with a gulp of tea (she recalls distinctly the last time she had spirits, and is not ready to repeat that night), the baker tilts her head expectantly, waiting for Jigano to lead the charge, instruct them on a plan.

The harp produces pretty notes, an easy tune plucked by skillful fingers to which the girl hums along. Never skilled with musical instruments, Amalia has nothing but tongue and ear, two tools which have served her well enough but contribute little in the grand scheme. Still, she is game to give what she has, nodding agreement at Jiano's terms, ready to attempt to weave her own magic, spinning word and lyric from nothing.

Jigano's opening is easy to follow, a lilting tenor in her ears. After a moment's hesitation the girl responds, her own rich alto hesitant, thoughtful, and undercut by Jyoti's sudden need to coo and call along:

"Please keep us from the cold and dark,
Make bold our voices and our hearts."


A slant rhyme - not perfect, but it is all she has for now. Turning a grin to Deimos, she raises an eyebrow in silent challenge, as though to question whether or not he will reply with mischief and mirth.
a m a l i a
You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired
Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there


Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#9
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
The reality of being woefully out of his element slunk along the back of his spine as he intentionally kept himself occupied on the spit, turning it occasionally, glancing elsewhere, mind deliberately thinking of an escape. It’d be easier to glide away on his frozen, detached nuances and simply disappear into the shadows – a custom, a habit, a routine, a ritual for the barbaric being no one ever really wanted around. But the world was different now, sculpting him in new edges and lines: there was no death, no abandonment, no colossal shift in the earth where they can bury him alive. He was well and wholly stuck in this collaboration, the discomfort, the inadequacy stoking the fibers of his skin; apprehensive, concerned, far more eager for swordplay and weaponry, flinging daggers, assailing rivals, than proffering poems and songs. What was he doing here?

His eyes glanced to Amalia and the answer was there, clear and distinct; swallowing the misgivings and disquiet, keeping his hands busy with gathering or ensuring the meat was cooking, listening in while the world waited and pressed its weight on his shoulders. It was too late to back out, and his jaw clenched, fighting the urge to let the earth swallow and consume him. He was no bard. He was no poet. The only oeuvre he’d ever maintained or managed was survival when few others had; damnation stoked and disasters keened, wild and savage, untamed and furious, ferocious and vehement, plucked apart at the seams. Just try the winds whispered, the fire crackled, and he wondered if they’d laugh him out of the area, out of the circle, full of failure and dissolution.

The Reaper wanted to stay in his comfortable silence, where it was familiar, where it was dark, where it was dreary, and everything, everyone left him alone. But it was also damned lonely too, and he’d made too many outlines and sketches, on the fringes, on the borderline, of amazing, wonderful, bewildering things (friends, affection, which seemed altogether foreign when they shouldn’t have, when kingdoms and sojourns could’ve been so much more than the reckless, disillusioned crusades). He listened, as always, an adept scholar even when he felt inept and ridiculous, eyes flickering to Jigano and the string of his instrument, the rich tenor that spoke volumes of experience and fortitude in tunes, in harmonies. Then Amalia came next, with an underpinning of beatific undulations from Jyoti, bold and cold and shadowed, and he wished he could tuck himself in there, in between the words and stanzas, free and frozen and not shackled with impending dread. Her challenging depths slid over to him, and it was his damned turn. His mouth parted, released and loosened from his taut, rigid clenching, and he didn’t know what kind of ignorant sound was going to come out of his throat; he wasn’t relaxed enough for mischief: the lyrics were simple, enough for him to not drown, intonations brimming on the impact of audacity, on the realms daring them to fold.

“We shall not shy away
The world cannot keep us at bay.”


The vocals were deep, no particular pitch, no training, haphazard and often influenced by ravenous, rapacious amounts of liquor. He could’ve used some in that moment, feeling the desperate urge to fling himself into the fire and be done with the entire charade. The beast waited for the laughter, the chuckles, the nuances of his failure, staring at the ground instead of the stars.
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 30 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914
MP:
#10
Jigano grinned as Amalia took up the thread of song, her voice beautiful even before Jyoti added her otherworldly whalesong to the mix. They rose to the occasion, as he had known they would, and Isuma peeped as she leapt lightly to the bard's shoulder, placing gentle talons on the top of his head as she raised her head to the moon and chirruped happily along.

When the song was handed over to Deimos Jigano nodded encouragingly. Whatever their previous interactions, both bad and good, this was a night for camaraderie and song, for uniting and joyful celebration of Safrin and summer. The big man's voice was as deep in song as it had been in speech, and though it wasn't particularly tuneful there was a martial grandeur to it, and the couplet he created. It brought them back around to new beginnings, and he grinned to the mountain, offering a nod of approval and respect even as his fingers continued to dance.

"A most excellent beginning," he declared. "Shall we add in our instruments as we work on the second verse? Amalia, you'll have to improvise if you didn't bring anything to play," he teased gently. "Perhaps Deimos can make an instrument for you? He can go second this time, while you get ready."

He waited for them to sort out whatever decision or magic would result in an instrument for the baker, and until Deimos had his own drum in hand before he reprised the introductory notes, slowing the beat down so it would be easier for his companions to follow along on their own music-makers. He hummed until he reached the opening, and again he sang:

"Bright friendships made under your sky,
To keep them close we'll always try."


Fire and light and song were usually an effective deterrent against wild things in the night, but Longheat had seared the Hollowed Grounds and food was scarcer than it had been in Flowerbirth. Around the little clearing eyes began to wink in the dark, slinking shapes drawn near by the wafting scent of cooking meat upon the fire...



Strike up your instruments and keep those lyrics coming!
1. Deimos
2. Amalia


PQ will move on in 48 hours or when everyone has posted
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,191
MP:
#11
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
He didn’t expect the nods of encouragement, the quick grins once he’d finished his lines, the nod of sanctions and regard from the bard, and he immediately deigned to stare back at the ground, lest a small smile be found tucked along his mouth. The first round completed, and he hadn’t been forced into his own self-made tomb, bludgeoned out onto the streets, or laughed into the woods; the tiniest notion of confidence beginning to form in his chest. It still wasn’t rapiers or daggers; the perfected hold of a knife, stiletto, or sword, but if they hadn’t mocked him now, then there was a possibility they wouldn’t do so in the future.

At the notion of instruments, he turned back to where he’d left the drum in shadow, uncertain of how to perfect its beat. He hadn’t been the drummer boy along the midst of cliff walls and surrounding fog, where the labyrinthine confines had torn their defenses to shreds; he’d been the follower, counting strides, decibels, and intonations, one after the other, waiting for an opportunity and assault. He might be able to mimic the booming, resounding decibels, but only just so; a poor student in musicality and song. The Reaper’s hands, calloused, worn, and meant for bloodshed and annihilation, grabbed hold of the instrument, placing it within his lap.

But first – he shifted towards Amalia, remembering age-old dings for dinner and refuge, a comforting decibel shrieking over tantrums and upheavals, tempestuous layers of chaos for boys not yet men, for juvenile delinquents thrust into their lust and temptation of glory. He enfolded his palms close together, the sizzle and singe of magic gilded and glowing between them, coming to form a metallic structure: a triangle, complete with its own tiny baton – handing it to her on a wink and a ruffian, rogue’s grin, a clasp of fingers quickly, promises buried and uplifting.

Then he was to go again, shifting once more to the lonely little drum in his grasp, bringing one hand down at a time to begin a beat. It was an ancient one, a call to arms, to munitions, to soldier pursuits and ravaging, rampaging across dais of terror, tyranny, and treachery – but it worked for now, as he strived to follow Jigano’s lines, blatantly glancing at Amalia through the stanzas, then crossing back over into the midnight landscape, on the breeze, on the wind, molding his contortions.

“Affection made to last,
More ardent than the past.”
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 23 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 35 - Dext: 36 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 36
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,202
MP:
#12

YOU SAID THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE MOON
IT ROSE TOO SOON
AND WE'RE DOING WHAT WE SHOULD


Deimos closes out the refrain gamely, his rousing baritone rough and untrained, but pleasing to her ears. She skirts her hand over his own, a ghostly touch on their shared log, leaning in to whisper: "I think I liked the other better." It is a teasing reminder of their day in the woods, more lively, more rancorous- a reminder that she asks for no charades, relishes his wild and insolent ways.

Jigano, enthusiastic as ever, is quick to up the challenge of the thing, causing the girl some small chagrin. Instruments. Amalia has no musical talent when it comes to anything aside her voice, and even calling that a talent is something the girl would consider a stretch. "But I don't even own an instrument." Almost petulant with a pointed pout, the baker affects the role of younger sister well, glaring good-naturedly at the bard. His suggestion that Deimos make her something is met with a blink of quiet surprise, and she turns to the mountain, a challenge on her face, eyebrow raised in defiance as she wonders what he might produce.

And it is... a triangle. Taking the thing into her hand, Amalia can only stare for a moment as Deimos rises to fetch his drum. Disbelief shifts quickly to a mischievous grin as the girl tings gently on the metal, a ringing sound filling the air. Even Jyoti is entertained: she swims closer on invisible air, investigating the silver shape, something like laughter leaving her lungs in deep-voiced coos and trills. Looking up at Deimos, the girl cocks a lopsided grin. "I'm glad you have such faith in me," she drawls, turning her attention back to the device, perhaps the easiest instrument which she has ever seen.

She does not look up as the mountain speaks his refrain, too deeply absorbed in keeping the beat, her ting'ing falling neatly among his taps. She has good rhythm if nothing else, a mercy, for she will not lead them astray. But ah, she feels them, a strain made particularly for her- more ardent, and she wonders if he knows her doubts, her fear she will never outshine the rain. As the words fall last from Deimos' lips Amalia picks them up again, glancing at Jigano, devilry on her face.

"Into the great and wondrous world,
We offer a stirring cacophony:
A series of notes, clamor of beats,
'Twixt baker, bard, and soldier three!"


a m a l i a
You said it's life that moves too much
We're losing touch
But I'm not losing you


Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 30 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,914
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#13
He might almost have thought the Deimos was shy with the way the big man looked at the ground at the bard’s praise, but shyness didn’t seem like one of the forthright warrior’s more common traits. The drum he produced seemed better suited to his martial airs, but its beat was something a good song could always benefit by, and Jigano hummed quiet agreement with the choice for the evening.

He smiled impishly as Amalia protested, but luckily Deimos’s talents provided the perfect excuse for gift and instrument all in one. Long fingers continued to play over his harp as the mountain crafted a gleaming thing of straight lines and silvery sheen, and the bard struck a delighted arpeggio at the appearance of the triangle – and the gentle way it was handed over, fingers lingering briefly but tenderly in a way the white-haired man knows well, and is thoroughly pleased to see between Amalia and the man who has held her longing stares recently – or perhaps longer than that, out of his brotherly sight!

The drum was small but Deimos was strong, and as he began to strike upon it the slinking shadows and winking eyes upon the ground froze and then fled, his aggressively martial rhythm more than the nocturnal predators were willing to chance. When Amalia’s triangle joined in, the eyes in the branches above blinked and vanished, the metallic chime of the triangle deterring those who had come with wings and beaks to try to steal the cooking feast.

Again Deimos slipped the starting meter, but the rhythm of the song allowed for words to stretch and fill the notes, and his attention was clearly on the woman at his side. Jigano grinned as he kept the melody steady and in time with his percussionists, and Amalia met his gaze and tossed her challenge back, wrapped up and tied with a bow, no less! Longer rhymes, was it? So be it!

”One more verse!” he sang, picking up the rhythm a little faster now as his companions proved able musicians in their own rights.

”Deimos, if you’d do the honors and start us off this time?”



Almost there! The predators have been scared off, now they just need to wrap the song up and really wow Safrin!
1. Deimos
2. Amalia
3. Jigano


PQ will finish in 48 hours or when everyone has posted
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 31
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#14
D e i m o s
Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass
With their acceptance, tolerance in his inability to muster much of anything musical, the comfort returned, and with it, some notion of devilry, settling into his bones along the intertwining ether, challenge and provocation, interred amidst those upheavals and revolutionary claims. Amalia’s gentle touch was enough to return him from any dismay or apprehension, leaning into her with a quick smirk, a whisper, “Lie, lie, lie”, before arching his brow and returning back to his drum, continuing the beat for her chords and refrains. Truth be told, he’d been wildly entertained by theirs more too, only because it’d come without rules, without painted meters and additional stanzas or sonnets, savage and seditious in its abilities and heresy, giving no purity, innocence, or virtue into lingering luxere. Perhaps they could continue the tradition in the ghosts of winter; forge more drunken songs out of delight and amusement.

Amalia drawled, apparently not satisfied with his choice of instrument for her – the snicker still apparent on the lines of his mouth, but now he tilted his head, regarded her in the glimpses of fire and moonlight, postured his determination, oaths, and vows. “I always have faith in you,” he assured back, eyes narrowed, defiant shades of blue, ardor, and mischief. “If you do not want it,” and he mockingly went to swipe it away, one hand leaving his drum to unfold before her, daring again. “Then give it back.”

But she didn’t, putting it to good use as her stanzas and lyrics extended, and there was a sense of consternation beneath the defiance that perhaps now the bar has been raised, and he wasn’t ready – sure enough, the game had been elevated. What more could he do than respond? The itch of provocation stirred against his senses, even as Jigano told him to start (pressure on; the rebellion spread), and he maneuvered his eyes away from Amalia and into the crackling fire, pondering how far to extend, what to say, a careful study, a brooding composition, palms back on the flat surface of his drum, resounding a feral, marching beat once more. He upped his rhyming game then and there, allowing the bits and bobs to float on his tongue, deep and feral.

“They have faith and conviction,
Into shades of light, shadow, and gray,
Never swayed by restriction,
Curiosity their main array.”
For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown
And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate


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