[private] like a bird caught in a curtain - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: [private] like a bird caught in a curtain (/showthread.php?tid=30501) |
like a bird caught in a curtain - alkena - 11-13-2021 like a bird caught in a curtain, this temporary entanglement may lead to an open sky Alkena continues to float along the breeze—carried forth by some unseen presence that feels entirely too real and too tangible to ignore. It is a wonder to her that others do not let themselves be buoyed by that same presence. Do not feel the same urge to drift along the wind and see where it may take them. What a shame, she thinks, smiling at nothing, feeling herself wind along the currents of air and float on. Alkena @Fret RE: like a bird caught in a curtain - Fret - 12-05-2021 i'm torn from the truth that holds my soul i'm down in the grave where I belong -- The forest remains the place he most commonly inhabits. He has ventured to the meadow once and found it to be too open. He did not like how easy it was for them to stare, how he stood out so starkly with his black armor among the green grasses and soft flowers. Everything about him was already so harsh—the unyielding ridges that line his spine, the knife-tipped tail, and the armor that plates his face. At least in the forest he was overshadowed by the towering trees and the darkness that they cast; he was able to be insignificant and invisible. It wasn’t what he wanted to be, but maybe it was best, for now. It’s quiet in this part of the forest, away from where others tended to wander and congregate. He had stepped off the worn paths and was making his own, ignoring the way branches and bramble scraped along the hardened armor. But as the trees grew closer together it became too complicated, his great wings growing cumbersome and hindering his movements. He turns to head back the way he had come when there is a strange gust of wind and the sudden ringing of laughter, and he frowns behind his armor as he tries to figure out where it had come from. The limbs had not rattled, as if the wind had come from within the forest itself instead of following a path from the sky, and he could not find a source for the laugh. There is the feeling of cold too close to his face, and then the strange sensation that someone is watching. “What are you?” he asks, the words still feeling thick on his inexperienced tongue. He thinks he was supposed to ask who are you, but he is not sure if the wind can be a who. -- f r e t @alkena RE: like a bird caught in a curtain - alkena - 12-05-2021 like a bird caught in a curtain, this temporary entanglement may lead to an open sky She has managed to see so much of this world in her young life. Had managed to travel far and away. Been able to study those who make up this world—the young and the old, the kind and the cruel. She had watched as they had lived their lives and gone about their days, and she found that she was infinitely thrilled to learn something new about them every new encounter. Perhaps they did not always know her—in fact, they rarely did—but it did not overly bother her. It was enough to know them in turn. Alkena RE: like a bird caught in a curtain - Fret - 12-23-2021 i'm torn from the truth that holds my soul i'm down in the grave where I belong -- Though he was not much of a conversationalist, he has always been observant. For the longest time that was all he could do, was watch them. Their language was strange to his ears and he couldn’t figure out how to make his tongue say the right words that they would understand, and so all he did was watch. His predator side made it easy — he could follow them unnoticed, and knew just how to step to avoid making sounds. And in all of his watching he learned that Beqanna was brimming with magic, and that it showed itself in countless ways. The voice that he is hearing now must be another example of that magic, though it was nothing like he had experienced before and for some reason it is unsettling, perhaps because it had never occurred to him to look for the things that are invisible. “I was not being unkind,” and though the words are clumsy there is a sort of indignation to his tone, his ears falling back although they don’t quite pin. She laughs when she says it, which feels confusing as he tries to decipher if she—is the wind a she?—is actually angry or not. He can feel a flicker of irritation come to life in the pit of his stomach because he still cannot see whatever he is speaking to, and switching to the infrared range had not helped him. It made him feel exposed, and he was not used to being the prey. The feeling fades though when he is caught off guard by her question, confusion shadowing his face. “I’m a….” he trails off in uncertainty, his mind struggling to recall the thing he had heard others murmur when he walked by. What they called themselves in his mother’s tongue had no translation, but there was a word in particular that was said over and over by those around him as they stared. “Xenomorph. Or part one. My name is Fret.” -- f r e t RE: like a bird caught in a curtain - alkena - 01-17-2022 like a bird caught in a curtain, this temporary entanglement may lead to an open sky If she picks up on the indignation, she ignores it completely, sweeping it away with the ease of someone who has never once thought themselves in the wrong. She has never had any reason to think she is anything but right, anything but purely perfect, and she doesn’t let the faint irritation on his face color her viewpoint in the slightest. Instead she tilts her invisible head and consider him, trying to study the strange angles and curves of him as he struggles to find a word to explain what he is to her. Alkena @Fret |