Welp. One of my nocs has a new headcannon now. She is the mate to the clan necromancer. I guess it makes sense that she could see and mimic the dead. Yup, my new headcannon. He summons the spirits to talk with them, she completes the other half of the conversation for people.
Welp. One of my nocs has a new headcannon now. She is the mate to the clan necromancer. I guess it makes sense that she could see and mimic the dead. Yup, my new headcannon. He summons the spirits to talk with them, she completes the other half of the conversation for people.
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Water is another matter, has no direction but its own bright grace, runs through all imaginable colors, takes limpid lessons from stone, and in those functionings plays out the unrealized ambitions of the foam. - Pablo Neruda
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Omg,I need to work this into the lore of one of my nocs now...
Omg,I need to work this into the lore of one of my nocs now...
right in the feels.
oof.
I need a sad noc. I need a sad noc!
right in the feels.
oof.
I need a sad noc. I need a sad noc!
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
A bump a day keeps the admins away
As well as creating more hurt XD
A bump a day keeps the admins away
As well as creating more hurt XD
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Barracuda
Battle
Bank
{---
Coliseum
Help!
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FR+3|He/Him
OL: 04:00~19:00
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Clicky Clicky?
No Eggs ^w^
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Angelfish
Apparel
Bank
---}
Come Outfit
Your Dragons!
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[quote name="mochimajuru" date=2015-08-09 08:14:52]
Why must you hurt me like this
[/quote]
mochimajuru wrote on 2015-08-09:
Why must you hurt me like this
[quote name="Darkfall" date=2016-01-22 09:46:26]
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
[/quote]
[i][b]Nocturnes comforting the ill and dying?!
Nocturnes comforting people in [u]general[/u] with their gift?
I APPROVE!
Darkfall wrote on 2016-01-22:
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
Nocturnes comforting the ill and dying?!
Nocturnes comforting people in general with their gift?
I APPROVE!
I don't know what I'm doing,
I'm just-day-to-day,
But here goes nothing,
I'm doing it, doing it!
Gotta get my s**t together,
Because I'm on my way either way!
[quote name="Darkfall" date=2016-01-22 09:46:26]
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
[/quote]
I am in pain.
Darkfall wrote on 2016-01-22:
Am I allowed to post my own? I made a thing. //Sorry for bumping the thread with a giant story I hope that's okay? I'm so new to the forums haha.
There is talk among a group of dragons that one of their eldest denmates have fallen very ill. She is an old widow who has been blind all her life. Her mate had passed away of age in his sleep. He always wore lilacs around his neck, so she knew if he was there even though she could not see.
A crowd has formed around the elder, her breathing growing weaker and weaker as every moment passes. There are hushed whispers, as everyone looks to a single nocturne standing in the midst of the group: an old friend of her mate. The nocturne nods slowly after a few words are exchanged, leaving momentarily to get something. . .
. . . and returns with a necklace of lilacs.
Placing them around himself the nocturne approaches the dying elder. Her head gently turns as her nostrils flare, taking in that familiar smell.
"Love, is that you? After all of these years. . ."
The nocturne shakes, looking back to the crowd for approval before opening his mouth.
"It is" He speaks at last. His voice is not his own, of course, but rather a mimic of the elder's lost mate. He remembers that silky smooth tone that once belonged to his friend. "It's time to come home now. Just rest and the pain'll go away."
"I'll be home shortly, dear. I love you."
"I love you too." The nocturne struggles to keep his voice from shaking as she fades away.
The smell of lilacs fills the den for days.
I am in pain.
... At long last, the Wildclaw felt her knees buckle and she knew then that she would not make it home. She collapsed, her head falling down into the watery mud and she clenched her eyes shut with a rattling groan. The wound in her side caused each breath to hurt, and each one grew more ragged, more forced. She wasn't afraid - it was just in the nature of the hunt, that sometimes the prey would be stronger than the hunter.. but she wished that her death would've had better timing. She thought back to her mate. She thought of her hatchlings, who had only just grown old enough to join the main clan for the first time, remembered their little smiles. She thought of all the things she would never get to tell them as they grew up, and of the farewell that they would never have.
Uncontrolled sobbing broke out by her side, and she forced one of her moss-green eyes to open. Her teammate. How many years had they not hunted together..? She felt a pang of guilt for leaving the Nocturne behind. Her friend had kept telling her encouraging words to keep her going, warded off the curious predators who followed her blood trail... refusing to believe that they would not make it home together. But now, her old friend had buried his face into her neck feathers and begun to weep, a gross and uncontrolled sobbing that hurt almost as much her wound did. For a moment she was silent. Wishing she could get up and give him a hug, or that there was something she could say that wouldn't sound so hollow.
"... hey." she said, calling on his attention. The sobbing grew stiller and she knew he was listening. "There is.. one last favor I want to ask you..."
The four little Wildclaw hatchlings huddled together, close, close, under their fathers wings, and the Nocturne hung his head low as he sat next to them in what used to be a happy home. Just being there was heavy on him. Memento's of hid friend were everywhere - hunting trophies they had brought down together, paintings of her past. The small lilac she had picked earlier that morning laid withering on a table, traces of her breakfast not yet cleaned up. The whole clan had ben hit hard by the news, but this.. was a personal moment. On one hand he felt honored to have been entrusted with such a task... on the other, he wasn't even sure if he could do it. If his voice would hold.
No, the Noc thought and steeled himself... no, his voice would hold. It had to.
What remained of the Wildclaw family closed their eyes, and pretended. That was his cue. He brought her final speech to his memory, recalled how her voice had sounded.. strong. So full of warmth, full of love. He would give that voice life again.
"... I don't have the words to express how much I love you all..."
--
The months and years would pass, and her words had not faltered from the Nocturnes memory. Her hatchlings were young adults now and had scattered across the world to start families of their own. Their father was gone now, too. But once a year, they all gathered in their birth clan to hear another chapter. Their mother had left them messages to be told as they grew older - containing all the advice and all the stories that she had not been able to tell them. Everything from moments of her own past, to hunting advice. This was the last one the Nocturne had been left with, and he watched them settle into place, solemn expressions on their faces as they awaited their mothers words. He remembered her voice, and begun the message as he always did.
"... I don't have the words to express how much I love you all, and this will be the final message I can leave you with..."
... At long last, the Wildclaw felt her knees buckle and she knew then that she would not make it home. She collapsed, her head falling down into the watery mud and she clenched her eyes shut with a rattling groan. The wound in her side caused each breath to hurt, and each one grew more ragged, more forced. She wasn't afraid - it was just in the nature of the hunt, that sometimes the prey would be stronger than the hunter.. but she wished that her death would've had better timing. She thought back to her mate. She thought of her hatchlings, who had only just grown old enough to join the main clan for the first time, remembered their little smiles. She thought of all the things she would never get to tell them as they grew up, and of the farewell that they would never have.
Uncontrolled sobbing broke out by her side, and she forced one of her moss-green eyes to open. Her teammate. How many years had they not hunted together..? She felt a pang of guilt for leaving the Nocturne behind. Her friend had kept telling her encouraging words to keep her going, warded off the curious predators who followed her blood trail... refusing to believe that they would not make it home together. But now, her old friend had buried his face into her neck feathers and begun to weep, a gross and uncontrolled sobbing that hurt almost as much her wound did. For a moment she was silent. Wishing she could get up and give him a hug, or that there was something she could say that wouldn't sound so hollow.
"... hey." she said, calling on his attention. The sobbing grew stiller and she knew he was listening. "There is.. one last favor I want to ask you..."
The four little Wildclaw hatchlings huddled together, close, close, under their fathers wings, and the Nocturne hung his head low as he sat next to them in what used to be a happy home. Just being there was heavy on him. Memento's of hid friend were everywhere - hunting trophies they had brought down together, paintings of her past. The small lilac she had picked earlier that morning laid withering on a table, traces of her breakfast not yet cleaned up. The whole clan had ben hit hard by the news, but this.. was a personal moment. On one hand he felt honored to have been entrusted with such a task... on the other, he wasn't even sure if he could do it. If his voice would hold.
No, the Noc thought and steeled himself... no, his voice would hold. It had to.
What remained of the Wildclaw family closed their eyes, and pretended. That was his cue. He brought her final speech to his memory, recalled how her voice had sounded.. strong. So full of warmth, full of love. He would give that voice life again.
"... I don't have the words to express how much I love you all..."
--
The months and years would pass, and her words had not faltered from the Nocturnes memory. Her hatchlings were young adults now and had scattered across the world to start families of their own. Their father was gone now, too. But once a year, they all gathered in their birth clan to hear another chapter. Their mother had left them messages to be told as they grew older - containing all the advice and all the stories that she had not been able to tell them. Everything from moments of her own past, to hunting advice. This was the last one the Nocturne had been left with, and he watched them settle into place, solemn expressions on their faces as they awaited their mothers words. He remembered her voice, and begun the message as he always did.
"... I don't have the words to express how much I love you all, and this will be the final message I can leave you with..."
I'm not crying you're crying *muffled sobs*
I'm not crying you're crying *muffled sobs*
