ORIGIN

Full Version: Be at Peace

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Oh-! What a peaceful hero! Her heart melted, listening to him, and in her mind's eye, she pictured the hero as Beast, softspoken and wonderful and full of perfect ideals.

"The Other-Hero's eyes narrowed, and he looked at the hero up and down, trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. The wind howled its impatience, and finally the Other nodded, and motioned his head to follow.

The storm was getting stronger and stronger, and before long they came to a narrow opening that seemed to almost appear out of nowhere in the white snow. The Other looked back towards the Hero, then slipped through the narrow opening and waited for him to follow.

Once said and done, the Other blocked off the narrow entrance so the snow wouldn't filter through with its cold breath, and let the Hero stand and look around. It seemed to be a side tunnel, closed off from the main room where the storm was held, with many columns and paves stone floors leading to what seemed to be a tall mirror that stretched from the floor to the ceiling with a scrolling gilded frame. It was once a place of great majesty...that had fallen into decay.

The Other walked towards the mirror, speaking slowly. "This is a mirror that will allow you to take on any form you wish," He said, and as he walked, his form shifted and molded like water till he looked like Hero no longer, but a small brown furred monkey with tiny little glasses and many scars along the back. "Obviously I wouldn't give this power to just anyone," He looked back at the Hero. "But you may use it to collect your own secrets. As you say," He said with a short bow and wave of the hand. "Life is nothing without secrets."

Then the Other awaited the Hero's answer, testing his intentions."

Clover was enjoying this so much, she glowed as brightly as a star, her light shining against the snow, setting it to glitter like miniature jewels in the white.

"This is how I speak."

@Beast

Beast listened with wide eyes. Her words were magic, his mind tingling with their meaning; and she was glowing, now, so brightly that the snow all around her shimmered. He leaned his heavy head forward, sniffing delicately at the jewels that seemed to glitter over its surface, careful not to touch. His young mane shifted over his face, and he had to shake it away as he looked back up to her.

A mirror... that could turn you into anyone? Beast considered this, for awhile. He was still young, and had never heard a story, before, so at first, his mind was blank. He had no idea what to do with this. He could turn into anything...? But there were so many things.

He hesitated, and then the ideas began to bloom in his mind. He spoke them aloud, forgetting, for a moment, that it was meant to be the hero talking, and not him.

"I could become a stranger, and help people, and they'd never know who did it, and everyone would be happy. Or I could look like the King's people, and listen to everything they say, and find out what they're really like." He wasn't sure why there was a King, in this story, only that there should be.

"But--the Hero looked at the stranger, who was a monkey, now. And he asked, "will I ever be able to go to the tower? I don't live forever. And what do you really look like? Will I be able to come here, again?"

Beast wasn't sure, after all, that the hero would be able to choose more than one form. What if he only had one chance?

"And then the hero thought about it. He could be something big and strong, to protect his friends, or something small, that would listen in. He could use it to disguise himself. He realized it was a test as much as a gift: what form did he think power took? ...So the hero stepped forward, and decided to see for himself. He walked through the mirror, to look at all the forms that hid and lived inside, so he could better learn."

Beast was very proud of himself, and very excited. The idea had been spontaneous--perhaps one of the first true bursts of creativity he'd ever had, and he kneaded the snow with his claws as he looked to Clover. He was fascinated enough that his own light faded out, and he lay bathed in the doe's glow, without any answering light of his own. He was too lost in the story to remember to keep up his magic. But that didn't matter to the tale.

He couldn't wait to hear what lay within the mirror.

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@Belladonna

She grinned - he was getting into the story as much as she was, putting himself in the shoes of the character, which was just as it should be. That was how honesty crept into the tale.

"The Other nodded at the lion's intentions, thinking them noble. The King's people were a sorry lot, half full of people who once started out life with the purest of intentions and grew sour and bitter and broken along the way, and half full of those who lived to hurt. All of them led by a young little King who overthrew his father and took his crown, shouting to the people that he would fix everything with the ones who supported him, then turning around and doing the same exact regime of his father. A young hypocrite, in other words. They had won the castle with fire and lightning at their backs.

The Other knew each and every one's secret of the King's Court, but he kept his silence on them.

When he heard the Hero's questions, he answered, "It's up to you. Once you use the mirror and become something else...there's nothing stopping you but yourself." He left that with the light allusion to when he had taken on the Hero's form with a slight smirk, which faded. "You can come here again, depending on what you choose. This mirror is mine, and I will judge."

"As to what I look like...why, Ive used to mirror so many times, I couldn't quite tell you anymore." The Other said softly.

Once the Hero stepped inside the mirror, the world he left behind faded away. The sound of the storm outside, the sounds of silent echoing stone, the remnants of the Other's voice, they were all gone. The sights of the marble columns and the stalactites from up above were gone, instead replaced with an eerie blackness, like the Hero had stepped into a place that didn't quite exist.

From the dark, from the shadow, one by one came forms that came into the circle of vision the Hero had. A tiny little bird with a dark face and a bright red breast, an owl that couldn't see. A great, strong bear, and soft and kind lionness, a kind and bright-eyed cat. A tiny little leopard child, a small little eaglet with a cocky smirk, a solemn crow, a dragon and a tiny little numbat. All of these and many many more came into the Hero's vision, surrounding him one by one, silently, with the Hero's same bright blue eyes.

It was up to the Hero to choose."

"This is how I speak."

@Beast

Beast listened quietly, paws kneading the snow. An unseeing owl? It sounded interesting, but not much use. The little red-and-black bird didn't interest him at all, but the great, strong bear sounded good. A guardian! But then, could it find information easily? Secrets...? The lioness did nothing to interest him either, but the bright-eyed, kind cat that Clover described immediately gripped his imagination.

Small? Able to fit into many places and listen, but kind, so as to offer advice and wisdom? And somehow Beast imagined it wise: intelligent, gentle, with a pure heart. Still, he listened to the others. The solemn crow, too, caught his interest. The others didn't--he briefly wondered what a dragon was, and thought it might be some giant monster, and monsters did not interest him. Not for a hero. The idea of a tiny numbat he considered only briefly. Tiny, which was good for a good story, but what was a numbat...?

He shook his head, gathered his thoughts, and with the crow and the cat in mind, he began to speak slowly.

"The hero wanted to do good and kind things, and the eyes of the cat were most interesting to him. The cat looked simple, and plain, but smart, and he wanted to be all those things so he could blend in, and learn. But he could see that the crow had seen many things already, and was sad and serious, and he felt bad for him. So the Hero used them both."

Beast considered how best to combine a cat, and a crow, tilting his head as he basked in Clover's glow.

"His... shaggy white fur became black feathers, and they were very shiny in the light-... I mean, even in the dark, inside the mirror. I forgot it was dark," he apologized in a near-whisper to Clover. Then he nodded, and continued. "He borrowed the cat's bright eyes, and his kind heart, and how smart and full of light he was. But he borrowed the outside of the crow, all black and quiet, to hide himself. He had wings, and a black cat's body. He looked down at himself and wondered if he'd made the right choice. When he looked back up again, all the other forms were slipping away into the dark."

Beast continued, half-closing his eyes as he thought.

"Then he looked toward The Other, who had followed him in, and he asked where he should go from here. But the Other only shook his head, and said, 'I could not tell you. I do not know where you will come out, but when you need this place again, you'll find it. I promise.' So the Hero said a quiet promise that he'd only use this gift to help his people, and he stepped out of the mirror--only he came out somewhere different. Not in the mysterious snowstorm, but..."

Beast tilted his head, eyeing Clover with a cheerful, soft expression. He couldn't wait to see where the Hero would come out--but this part was Clover's turn!

"Your turn," he whispered. His glow had returned, his soft joy emanating from him in a thrumming pulse of golden-white light which blended with Clover's own, the snow around them shimmering with their light.

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@Belladonna

"Speech"

Her heart thrummed when Beast picked the cat that she had mentally thought of as Bartos - all of the creatures she described were gems she'd met in her travels, and for Beast to pick him, her love, made her completely invested in this tale. For him to pick Eve too, to merge them both, for her to think that Bartos could fly....she knew where this tale would go, now. Bartos would reach the stars like he wanted to.

Her light flickered in concentration, trying to weave all her past stories together to make this work into one important narrative, but she didn't worry. She derived her strength from Beast's light, and she leaned on it, smiling softly. With him there, she was at ease, calm, and safe.

"When the Hero stepped out, he was in a completely different place. He was in the King's city, that had....incredibly high buildings that reached so high you could barely see them, and they touched the ceiling up above, touching the stars up above. This place exuded an aura of peace and kindness, and every one of the gems that walked the streets that were...not streets, but instead rivers they walked on." She said, imagining this place as she went along.

She shared the entirety of the story through the bond by this point, hoping he would hear and listen and love this story as much as she and Beast did.

"This city had once, a very long long time ago, been held by a mighty dragon who slept underneath the ground that guarded his treasure with an iron claw and a vast assortment of minions to keep him safe and fast asleep. The dragon was so huge in his chamber rooms under the castle that just his eye was as big as a gembound, and long ago, just one clever little cat and a brave deer defeated him by the skins of their teeth. It was unknown whether or not the dragon still slept under the rubble, never to move, but no one had heard of him before or after.

The cat and the deer had left with some of the treasure to live happily to the end of their days, but with the dragon gone and the city empty, there came many to inhabit the city and make it beautiful again. A wolf had come to take the crown and rule with his love in peace and harmony, until usurpers came and ruled with greed, only to be overtaken by his son, the present day little King.

The Hero looked around, unsure of where to go or what he should be doing here in this place, in his form of the winged black cat with clever, bright blue eyes, but he spied multiple places he could possibly go. There was a tower near him with a bright light on a soft little song coming from the open window, or he could go to the bustling market place with wonderful music and even better smells, or he could go straight to the castle."

ooc; my heart, dark, why

@Beast

"He... He wanted to visit the marketplace," Beast began, making his decision. Of course, it wasn't so simple; you couldn't just go to a market when there was such a soft, entrancing song and light in the window. "The smells and the songs were beautiful. They were bright like colors, and if he closed his eyes he saw red and blue, green, and yellow all dancing to the notes. He imagined new friends dancing and singing, and lots of new and strange foods, and sights and stories. But while he listened he heard a softer tune, and he opened his eyes again and looked toward it. Instead of bright colors, like a happy party, there was only light--like ours," he told Clover, nodding. As if in response, or maybe merely at the idea--or as a subconscious demonstration--his own light flared back up, dancing over the snow and bathing them both in its candleflame glow.

"It was soft, and warm. It was gentle. So was the music. He was... interested, um. ...Tranced? I don't know the word but he opened his new wings and for a while he forgot he didn't know how to use them yet, so he just fell down again. But he kept trying, and it didn't even ruin his mood because of all the nice music and the smells. Finally he managed to get into the air, and the wind under his wings was cool. It lifted him up like it was carrying him and he dropped right on the window ledge.

Inside he could see a beautiful-... Um. Dog. She was very slender, with long and silky fur that was white and gold and orange. She was the one making the light, but there was a fire in there too, a little orb that hung by the door and glowed.

The dog was gazing into a mirror like the one he'd come through, but he thought it wasn't magic. She was beautiful and the room was filled with red velvet and silk and golden thread, and thin white cloth draped over her bed. The hero wondered if she was locked in there, but before he could ask, she had looked his way. 'Who are you?' she asked, but she didn't sound afraid. Only curious. 'And why are you in my window?' Maybe she had never seen anything like him. Maybe they were all like her. She was white and beautiful, and he was a small cat who was jet black, even though he normally had long, white fur too. He wondered if it mattered."

Beast rocked back again, pleased with himself thus far, peering at Clover with interest. He was still curious, himself, as to what the market would have held--and what the Castle would hold, in time.

But he had the feeling they'd be getting there, eventually, and he could already sense that there was no point in rushing a good story.

______________

@Belladonna

"Speech"

She'd forgotten by this point to remain vigilant in her light magic, so wrapped up in the story that it was easy to forget about the demon in her head and the reason they were traveling together. Did it really matter, at this point? To remember all the terrible things that weighed her down, the desperation, the loss - it was easier to just...let it go. At least for a little bit.

"'I don't particularly have a reason,' he said, looking at her. 'I heard you singing and thought I would say hello. If you don't want me to be here, I can leave. It's no trouble.'

She smiled and looked at him closely, walking calmly across the room as she did so. If the Hero looked just right, he could see the edges of feathers unfurling from her back, wings made of light that shimmered against her pale pelt. It intrigued him, and caught his eye to distraction.

'You don't have to leave,' She said. 'I don't mind. I'll introduce myself.' She smiled, and the wings grew a little more distinct as they moved while she collected herself enough to sit on her haunches. 'I am the daughter of the Wolf King and his Lady Star. I've lived for a very long time, long enough to see my parents overthrown and pass away, to see it happen once more, and now to become prisoner to the current king.'

The Hero blinked, startled. 'Why are you here, Princess? You don't have to be a prisoner - you can fly away, can't you?'

She frowned. 'No, of course I can't. I can't fly.'

'Yes you can,' The Hero replied. 'You have wings right there, curled against your back.'

The Princess pursed her lips. Her wings were growing incredibly faint now, barely more than a whisper of light bouncing off of crystal. 'I would ask if you are blind, to see what isn't there...but...perhaps a different set of eyes is necessary for a new perspective.' She looked down to the ground. 'I have been here for far too long.'

Then she looked back up at him, pouting ever so slightly. 'You still haven't introduced yourself, sir.'"

@Beast

Beast shifted in place, rumbling softly in his throat, massive mitt-paws kneading at the snowy ground as he listened.

If she had wings, why couldn't she fly--and hey! No fair, the hero wasn't meant to have a name. The young white lion huffed in annoyed amusement, his soft glow flaring brighter.

"But he doesn't have a n-... Argh," he groaned. The not-quite-a-cub-any-longer shook his head, snout wrinkling in amusement. He sneezed, blinked, and considered.

"Okay, okay... Um." Beast eyed Clover, moon-pale eyes shimmering with good nature. How could he continue the story in a way that'd make Clover happy? But-... without hurting the tale's integrity...

As before, the young lion nodded, and simply fell back on his own gentle kindness, placing himself and his naive friendly nature into the hero's shoes.

"Okay, so.

The hero bowed down and his littler wings flapped a-... little. He looked up to the dog-with-wings and he nodded at her.

'My name is...' "

What was a good name? He was Beast. So this cat, he'd name himself, right? What would it be?

"Okay, so.

The hero bowed down and his littler wings flapped a-... little. He looked up to the dog-with-wings and he nodded at her.

'Hero. I was here to explore, and to learn, but now I've found you. You sound like old sadness and bad memories. But you smell like perfume and flowers. It's weird. Do you want to come with me, and fly down below, and see the market with me? I can hear music and smell food. If you're sad, it might make you happy again,' Hero said. He offered. So the dog thought about that for awhile.

When she didn't agree straight away, Hero asked her a question. 'Even though I'm very little, I can still be a hero. And you have wings, but what do you mean I have eyes that can see? You can fly, surely?' And then Hero sat down, and waited. He wanted to make her happy."

Beast shifted in place, gazing warmly at Clover, waiting for what would happen next. All the while, the halo of golden-white light shrouded him, thrumming with the same kindness he was trying to convey, more clumsily, with his words.

After a moment, however, he found himself faltering--tired. Sleepy, drowsy. All this travel, all this excitement, had sent him into a state of exhaustion he hadn't even noticed. He snuggled closer to the doe, laying his head on his paws, and though he tried to pay attention, though he was excited, he found his moonshimmer eyes drifting shut.

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OOC: Exiting thread; adopting Beast to Ban! It's been fun <3

@Belladonna

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ORIGIN

Belladonna

Mercy

Belladonna

Mercy

Belladonna

Mercy

Belladonna

Mercy