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+--- Thread: Practice, Practice, Practice (/showthread.php?tid=2070)
Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 09 2015
She was getting better at spell-casting, she knew she was. It just took a second try to get a new spell down, and it boosted her confidence....but as she walked through the budding ranch of Polaris, with its quietly squabbling turkeys that sometimes nipped her hands thinking they were worms, to the cave deer, to the flowering grass that made her smile every time she saw the field that she had created.
She just needed....more. She needed to be able to master herself, and for that, she needed time and practice.
So with a whole bag full of seeds and a pretty little planter, she was ready to try, and fail, let herself become agitated and acerbated at things that didn't matter, and weren't life and death situations, and try again.
A small seed was placed inside the dirt, and she splashed warm water onto the new little hill from her acorn, ready and waiting. She sat down next to the plant, and waved her hand over it.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 09 2015
With that mindset though, it was difficult. The plant didn't want to listen to her and grow and thrive in its loamy soil, and she felt it, almost, felt it frown at her lack-a-daisical attitude towards whether it lived or died. But in the end, it did grow, even if it didn't grow as much as she wanted it to.
It had one brilliant little shoot with a tiny little flower bud, waiting to bloom. So she decided to help it along.
One more shoot grew like tendrils itching to climb up towards her, and the bud bloomed and unfurled into a brilliant white little flower with a lovely perfume. It wasn't as much as it could've been, but it was enough.
It was a good start.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 09 2015
She paused, after she let it bloom. Maybe she could try to....she didn't know, communicate with the plant? With all of the strange and wonderful magics out there, she certainly was no skeptic of the matter. It didn't seem too strange and far fetched; and, after all, it would be so helpful if she could talk to them, and understand what they wanted from her.
She closed her eyes and let the flower speak to her....but it didn't exactly have words to offer her, exactly. Just.....content....happy....flower....light....
It was...nice. She let the feelings wash over her, its gentle, unselfish appreciation for everything making her smile. It just enjoyed what it had, and nothing more.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 09 2015
Cayenne opened her eyes, breaking off the slight bond she had made with the flower right in front of her, and had a thought. She took a seed out from her bag, this pretty little oval seed, and turned it around in her hand. Did this little thing have thoughts? What would it want from her?
She closed her eyes and clasped her hands around the seed, feeling its green and ready life within the shell. It barely had anything to say, it being too young to give off more than the wish to come alive. It was young and innocent, waiting for its chance once the right conditions were met, but it pulsed against her hands like a tiny little heartbeat.
How extraordinary, She thought, once she released it and set it in the soil. I wish everyone could hear this....
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 10 2015
She placed the tiny seed within the loamy soil, covering it gently and giving it nice warm water to drink. It was like....a child. Her new awareness of their voices that the ears couldn't hear made her want to treat every plant as something precious and wonderful.
Well, she amended, not every plant. That snapping plant that protected the red leaf bush wasn't special at all. She wondered if it had a voice? What could it be thinking?
She shook her head. That wasn't important right now.
She focused on the tiny little seed within the earth and smiled, whispering to it, giving it energy to grow like it wanted to, and she could feel its little sprouts break free of the shell and make its way into the ground, and she could see its little shoots breach the soil. She wanted to think it would thank her...if it knew she was there, and she was the reason it could grow so fast. The plants were lovely, but completely ignorant of everything but themselves.
Strange. They were selfless and completely self-centered by nature. How funny.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 12 2015
The little shoots proximal to the seed still in the soil were a vibrant green, and as it grew, the color only grew stronger. She wanted to know what the seed thought, now that she brought it to life. Did it know how strange it was that it grew so rapidly?
But the thoughts she did recieve when she did use her magic were incredibly faint. ....grow...yes....reach.....
She huffed and prepared to try again.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 12 2015
She heard just a little bit more, but the voice was still faint. must....reach...grow....
What was it that the little flower was reaching for? Well, besides the obvious. It was reaching towards her, being the source of energy and magic. It was treating her like a little miniature light source, like she was the their end goal. If she made it keep growing, just made it keep blooming and emerging, would it try to wrap around her?
Or would it try to consume her? Like how she messed up the weaving spell-? It delved into Vazi's skin and tried to steal into his bloodstream like it was the ground, ripping into him and messing up his face even more than it already was.
She swallowed.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 12 2015
She tried again to understand the plant and what it was trying to do, but she reached too much and snapped the bond she was trying to create.
She stood up in frustration and shook her head. She would try again later, perhaps, when she wasn't feeling too cynical. She should try to make the little thing bloom instead of futilely trying to hear its voice.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 12 2015
She took out another seed and placed it into the loamy soil, carefully watering it, but her mind was distracted. There was so much she could do with these plants, so many options she had to control them. She could listen to them, make them grow till they were fully mature, manipulate their movements like they were her own fingers; she could even grow them in her own skin if a proper home for them wasn't readily available, and she had to be hasty. But the magic itself was unpredictable and wild, as if it had a mind of its own.
Even now, when she asked the plant to come alive, the magic refused to help her. She didn't even know what she was doing wrong this time.
RE: Practice, Practice, Practice - Cayenne - Dec 12 2015
She tried again to ask it to grow, her fists clenched, her eyes level, her face set with determination. She would make this plant grow, it would listen to her, and she would get stronger! But it just wasn't enough! The sprouts she started were getting smaller each time she tried, and she just about screamed in frustration. What was it that made her magic strong? What made her spells work? What was the key to being successful with all of this?
Was it just blind chance? Was it knowledge? Did she need someone to teach her this?
She didn't understand - she knew how to ask the plants to grow, knew what to give them, it was just the strength in her, something with a will of its own that decided whether or not it would work. She wished she could control it completely, know its secrets, but she just felt too young to feel confident with it.