Walking...

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Re: Walking...

Postby Edradir on Tue Jan 26, 2016 7:45 pm

Well written. A lot has happened between Aariam and Calisar, I see. .... love it.
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Re: Walking...

Postby Eluvere on Tue Jan 26, 2016 9:31 pm

Does this mean I can say........?

Welcome back, Cal! ;)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Jan 29, 2016 9:11 am

Eluvere wrote:Does this mean I can say........?

Welcome back, Cal! ;)


Indeed, easing myself back in ;) So nice to be back!
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Jan 29, 2016 6:00 pm

Balance... balance in all things...

Her fingertips spread slowly through the long cool blades of supple grass, here at the waters edge where it grew so tangled and wild. Peppered through with pale blue bell-flowers and clinging weeds. A safe haven, distanced from the well-worn footpaths that threaded and split across the multitude of islands here in Darnassus.

A quiet spot where she'd found it possible, since returning, to hunker down for hours alone. Still finding crowds disconcerting after her long solitary journey, this place was becoming sacred in it's own way. Precious.

Sitting cross legged, long carved stave resting easily across her lap, Cal's head lolled forwards, lost in reverie. Her thoughts at once concentrated and loosely dissipated at the same time. A meditation practice that lately filled any spare moment.

Listening... gently observing... forcing and controlling nothing. A leaf on the wind only.

Trying to sense balance... balance in all things... reclaiming inner calm.


A burning flicker of frustration seared in her gut occasionally, at how bloody difficult maintaining the meditation sometimes felt, at how pitifully small her progress. It would flare up with a snarl of impatience, battled back constantly by willpower alone. This was nowhere near as instantly focused as Shadow could be. Now -that- was a magic that felt like an acceleration, a mad gallop of power, self-serving and supremely self-gratifying, a wildfire of sensory overload.

Blissful at the time.. but oh the price you had to pay after...

But this? Tsssk... This felt like a slowing down, a crawl, a complete surrender of self unto something... something she couldn't quite grasp fully yet. Always the uneasy sensation of becoming a servant of this magic rather than a master of it.

Expelling a slow resigned breath, she straightened her back, aware of the uncomfortable forward slump she had ended scrunched up in, conscious of the crick in her neck formed by hours spent here trying to meditate.

Her eyes finally cracked open at the sound of something rapidly approaching. A distant scrabble across the flagstone pathway of paw and curved claw.

Bael skidded to a halt before her, something ornate and silver clenched within his heavy jaw like a prize.

"Gods Bael... what the... WHAT have you got there?"

The black worg cocked his head to one side, bright eyes fixed on his mistress, hesitating with the briefest of whines beneath her glare before dropping his latest 'kill' reluctantly into her lap.

Cal turned the drool covered item over, a finely carved candlestick... A figure of a kaldorei woman, hands raised to support a shallow disc where a white candle would usually sit. With a sinking feeling of recognition she knew.. she knew... this was from the bloody Temple.

"oh Elune".. her voice sunk low, looking horror struck between Bael and his prize. Mind already picturing whatever chaos the worg had caused in snatching such a thing and stealing off with it.

Bael's bright eyes peered expectantly at her, tongue hanging to one side as he panted, tail thumping against the ground. Proud of his trophy. A shiny gift for his pack leader.

Cal slowly cradled her forehead in her hand, covering her eyes with exasperation. Whatever reservoir of inner peace she had managed to accrue over the past few hours tilted completely off axis, vanishing. Her heart lurched at the dreadful prospect of whatever abject apologies she might have to make to the priestesses.

She swore, at length, turning the candlestick over in agitation, eyes fixed on it.

Unless... unless she could just sneak the damn thing back in there without telling anyone?

She arched a brow, glancing slowly over her shoulder to the Temple, a slow crooked smile curving the edges of her mouth.

As long as Salirien doesn't find out hm?

Looking back to Bael she ruffled the fur over his head, scratching around his ears. Leaning in to mutter sternly, but affectionately, "looks like I'm not the -only- one that needs some proper training hm?
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Fri Jan 29, 2016 6:49 pm

Awww, Bael!

The wolf likes his Elune. :D
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Re: Walking...

Postby Salirien on Fri Jan 29, 2016 10:35 pm

Nice try, Cali-bunbuns. Salirien knows ALL.

Lovely read as always! I feel the need to write a story about Sali looling for lost silver ware...
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Thu Feb 04, 2016 2:07 pm

Wasn't sure whether to post this here or in response to Sali's Shade of Blue thread... but here goes ^^


Aariam's table was cluttered with cups, bottles of juice, a skin of wine. What did it matter if the Keeper herself was away on business? The house itself was still a little beacon of welcome and... well... drinks and food could always be replaced hm?

Cal looked between the druids in residence around the table tonight, studying each in turn as the conversation rolled on. There was something about them, a sense of patient amusement at her endless tentative questioning, one query exploding into a dozen more each time... Do you have a form that you favour? How does it feel? What does that form mean to you? How long have you studied? Where have you studied? How many students have you had? What one piece of advice would you give a novice? Why? How? When? Tell me... please?...

The questions had started out warily, but they were being so open and patient in response that any embarrassment for lack of knowledge had simply faded out of thought. There was a sense of genuine enthusiasm in sharing their vast accumulated knowledge. Thousands of years spent between them honing their skills. The questions were welcome... encouraged... thought over carefully and smiled upon. Chuckled over between sips of juice and wine, notes compared, a deep bond of respect between these experienced druids clear to see.

Edradir was holding aloft a small carved figurine as he spoke. Even though it must have been precious to him, he handed it over without pause for Cal to inspect. A dark bird, a raven with golden eyes. Lady Raven apparently, his totem and guide for many years. She tilted it over between her hands thoughtfully, listening to his open easygoing voice rumble on about his passion for being a druid of the Talon.

Curious, she'd never heard someone advocate this particular spirit. After a while she handed back the carved figure reverently, flashing a genuine smile of thanks. Flying was the one form she -could- admit to some small experience with. "There's a sharpness... a freedom about it hm?" Cal tried falteringly to explain, painfully aware of how little she knew compared those around her. Knowledge scratched together alone over the last year on the road. But they didn't judge, they smiled openly, nodding in agreement.

"Flying is just incredible".

She grinned, actually grinned as she'd said it, swept up in the topic, leaning forward a little as the conversation rolled on.

As Edradir made his farewells Aenar spoke up of his experience of teaching. All his students also gravitating towards the Stormcrow. She turned to him sharply, eyeing his potential as a teacher. "How many students do -you- have?"

He leant back with a smile, seeming embarrassed to be pinned so, counting mentally. "Eight in total, now I have only three though, the others have left to be their own druid"

Cal offered a sidelong smirk "Ah, they.. left the nest hm?"

Aenar chuckled, dipping his head in agreement "I suppose that's a good way to put it"

Eluvere smiled too, peering across the table to Calisar, tilting her head to one side.

"I will tell you what worked for me"

Cal switched her focus, returning the Shan'dos gaze intently, hungry to know.

"...Just love it. The forests and living beings. When you look at them and you feel joy in your heart, when you reach out to them, they will respond." Her words were softly spoken, but sincere "Meditation is what I called it, it sounds stiff, it is passion what initiates it, not bland exercise."

She could feel Aenar nodding along to the sound advice, even though her eyes never left Eluvere's. The words striking a chord, one word resounding a note that wouldn't easily fade.

Joy...

Cal murmured a vague response. Reaching out was certainly something she had done before, many times. But not with joy. Then it had been curiosity laced through with Shadow. Stealing sight and taking experience on a whim... A skewed fascination in how the forest worked, in how these animals perceived the world around them.

Sometimes she still dreamt of those stolen sensations.

Eluvere was peering at her shrewdly... how much of this had Cal muttered aloud? She shook her head and the memories away. Aenar leant forward, offering openly the chance to study with him, if she so wished. A genuine standing offer, if the Talon felt the right way to go.

There was much to think about. Such easy companionship, generosity and encouragement had felt wonderful. Tilting her head in genuine respect to both druids, Cal made her farewell, hefting her staff comfortably over her shoulder. Stepping out into Darnassus with a lightness of step and thoughts racing.

Strolling along the path, dodging the meandering Ancient guards, Cal allowed a private chuckle, feeling buoyant. This is what druids did wasn't it? They planted a bloody seed and let the damn things grow.

Joy?... Tssk... Elu had planted a seed alright.

Her rambling gait led her towards the Temple, eyeing the arched doorway Cal shrugged lightly feeling at ease enough to step quietly inside, to hunt for a specific priestess. There was an offer to make.

Salirien seemed to have been wrapped up in talk of teaching herself. A pristene white clad human and kaldorei hanging on her words near the great well. Cal waited, and watched, leaning on her staff comfortably until noticed. Nodding into the shadows of the Temple for a quiet moment alone when the moment was right.

"How's the bruises?" Cal asked, eyeing Salirien over, noting the dark blotches on the other woman's arms. Curious that the little priestess hadn't erased them already.

"Well enough, thank you" It was a smoothly composed response, pale hands folded neatly together in front of her gown "Each one is a reminder that I shall have to try harder next time. I have little ambition of looking like sort of discoloured oil painting for long"

She drew one hand up to gesture to the largest bruise on her upper right arm, deep blue, quite vivid still. "this one might stay a while, I had thought to name it, but that struck me as a little sad".

Cal smirked broadly at the comment, inwardly wincing at the size of the bruise on display. Remembering how hard she had struck her there with her staff a few nights previous. How much she had wanted to land the blow at the time in their practice session. A little silent guilt flared for causing it.

"I think sad.. would be to draw a face on it perhaps?" Cal tilted her head, offering an equal gesture of goodwill, her voice light "...a thought struck me"

Salirien suddenly launched her hands aloft in mock jubilation "A thought? A miracle!"

Cal dragged her eyes away from the bruise, pausing to shoot the priestess a dark look, who had the good grace to lower her hands sheepishly. "Pardon, I am trying to follow Naralyna's example of comedy. It ill befits me I fear".

Cal still hesitated, tilting her head to one side warningly, hoping to continue uninterrupted. Inwardly she sighed, always with this woman it felt one step forward, then two damn steps back.

"Pardon" the priestess muttered again "do go on"

"I -thought-..." Cal paused pointedly "that to practice in combat.. at least one of us needs to actually teach. Not just to beat on each other until the weaker falls flat on her pale ass?" Cal arched a brow, remembering Salirien pinned beneath her staff, having lost the sparring match.

"I thought to offer you an actual lesson, rather than a beating.. next time?"

There.. the offer was made, tonight was all about teaching and learning it seemed, in many ways.

The priestess nodded thoughtfully "I would gladly accept the offer" her agreement as impeccably gracious as ever.

Cal nodded to the dark bruise "In exchange for you doing the patching up after hm?... I've been hobbling with a bruised hip..." she slowly conceded "a little" It was true, Salirien had landed a couple of damn good blows during the match, much to Cal's chagrin and there was little she could do about healing them herself.

Salirien paused, a shadow of regret clouding her features "Forgive me. I thought to heal you, in truth, but... well, you must understand I had a certain.. reluctance. I feared it might... burn" she inclined her head a little, trying to remove any implied offence. But Cal had already taken a step back, expression turning stony. Any trace of good humour vanishing like clouds before the sun.

A low rumbled "Right" was all she could muster in response, inwardly stung by the implication. "Just the lesson... I'll try and teach you blocking at least" Her hard eyes roved to the large bruise again as she hefted her staff up onto her shoulder. Wanting to leave the Temple immediately, trying to quell a rise of panic in her chest.

The priestess tried one last attempt to rescue the conversation "Don't misunderstand. If you want healing, you shall have just that Calisar. I wish to provide it... but I was worried" Her brow was knotted in genuine concern, but the damage was already done.

Cal's eyes flicked to the white clad acolytes awaiting Salirien's return. Vitriol and anger, laced with envy and bitterness now coiling in her gut.

"No" her voice cut the priestess dead "forget it" She paused, face a mask "Come find me when you want to try again hm?"

She turned her back on Salirien's sigh, stalking for the exit. The priestess had just landed one hell of a bruise without even a staff in her hands.

Cal found her feet leading this time back to her spot by the lake, the pathway a blur. Sinking down out of sight she hugged her knees up to her chest, staff clattering to the side forgotten, burying her face into the crook of her arm. Don't think for a moment they'll let you forget what you did... fool.

All thought of joy... for the moment... forgotten.
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Thu Feb 04, 2016 2:37 pm

Aww, poor Cali. :(

DAMNIT SALIRIEN, YOU KLUTZ!

I love reading these snippets of what Cali's doing... and I can send the bill for all the stuff looted from Aariam's house, right? ;)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Salirien on Fri Feb 05, 2016 9:38 am

Ah, so that's what happened! I must admit I was more than a little confused! :p Not to worry, Salirien has just the remedy *revs chainsaw*
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Re: Walking...

Postby Edradir on Sun Feb 07, 2016 1:33 pm

Calisar wrote:Edradir was holding aloft a small carved figurine as he spoke. Even though it must have been precious to him, he handed it over without pause for Cal to inspect.

His prrrrrrecious! *coughs* Gollum! Gollum!

Calisar wrote:The priestess had just landed one hell of a bruise without even a staff in her hands.

Sali always does that when she is hungry and grumpy.
For safety measures always carry a Sali snack with you, just in case...
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Feb 12, 2016 6:24 pm

Edradir wrote:
Calisar wrote:The priestess had just landed one hell of a bruise without even a staff in her hands.

Sali always does that when she is hungry and grumpy.
For safety measures always carry a Sali snack with you, just in case...


...or a big stick :)

===

These women -really- can't handle their peacebloom.

Cal smirked privately, the tea cups clinked together as she rinsed them out, setting each one aside neatly. The small stove nearby cast a subtle amber glow, the kettle slowly heating up again over the coals, this time though the brew would be just for herself.

But I guess I -did- double the dose. Her smile lifted at the edges, genuinely amused as she dried her hands together roughly on a soft towel, turning to regard those snoring lightly in the hushed gloom of Aariam's house.

Half-hidden by the sturdy round table, curled on one of the long benches, Eluvere slept soundly, catlike grace evident even in slumber. Salirien meanwhile formed a fine starfish, slumped flat on her back happily on the floor, having stoicly refused to take her hosts bed. Of course she would refuse it... Cal shook her head with a soft 'tssk' of exasperation. She grinned wolfishly at this rare off-duty sight of the priestess, passed out like some drunk at the lunar festival. Aariam lay alone, further back in the room, stretched out on her own mattress. Lost in the embrace of a deep sleep, to the weariness that follows hard on the heel of tears.

Fresh tears for Menori...

Cal flicked her gaze over to the corner of the room, drawn to the spot where Menori's weapon now rested. Recovered from a scene of massacre, omen enough to extinguish any last shreds of hope that the owner could somehow ever return.

She padded quietly over to peer at the blade, head tilting slowly to one side. Strange how fate could transmogrify the beautifully carved tough metal into something now so much more precious, something sacred. It now represented a piece of the woman that was, certainly in the minds of most here, now a new star in the velvet black, walking evermore in Elune's company.

Cal felt no desire to lift or touch the blade. Just to look upon it was enough.

Time drifted as she gazed upon the curved wicked-sharp edge, the handle smoothed and worn from use, the many nicks and dents earned in hard battle. All the while trying to recall the timbre of Menori's voice, how her laugh was a rare but pleasant sound. How her friendship had been a long time in earning, but appreciated all the more for it when finally won.

She frowned, arms folded about herself, eyes fixed on the blade until the kettle began to sing quietly, boiling at last. With a few blinks to clear her vision, the reverie broken, she brought her head round sharply. Stalking across the room barefoot to silence the kettle lest is wake anyone else.

There was a small satchel worn on her belt always, well-stocked with herbs, and she flicked through the compartments now, considering her options.

"Tea is not just tea... it is a potion, an elixir, a soothing balm or a source of clarity and inspiration. Comfort in hard times, a shared ritual. Knowledge of how to -truly- brew will serve you well for all the years of your life..."

An echo of her Aunt's harsh voice. Cal arched a brow, remembering the lessons well as she deftly prepared her preferred complex blend.

"Remember... take a cup of liferoot for energy upon waking, a cup of peacebloom for calm when preparing to sleep... These two brews alone will arm you well enough to face any trouble. Learn them, live by them, always carry the leaves with you."

The dark leaves swirled in her cup like a miniature storm as she stirred it thoughtfully. Cinderbloom this time for clarity, built on a base of liferoot and swiftthistle. A few petals of fireweed. A borrowed spoonful of honey for taste. A tea to revive and clarify. Something to help bring the mind to focus.

"The mind after all, is just a muscle that must be trained, master it" Yes... she'd learnt a lot from her Aunt back then.

Cal expelled a quiet gruff breath, settling cross legged near the doorway. Looking out into the brightening sky. Inky purple fading inexorably before a fiery ribbon of golden pink on the horizon.

Resting the cup against her shoulder felt good. Another thing tea is good for... basic warmth... She pressed it against the rough fabric of her tunic, over the site where an arrow had struck during their most recent mission against the Naga. A nasty hook-barbed tip, laced with Shadow magic. Loosed by a lone archer firing from above like a true coward...

Cal grimaced, shifting the cup around, letting the heat bloom through tender skin and muscle.

It had been unnerving how quickly she'd felt the influence. The cold magic had spilled through her senses, spreading as fast as ink through water. How spitefully she'd lashed out at Eluvere when the Shan'do had tried to help. Calling her "pathetic" through clenched teeth, tone acid, when there had been a trace of hesitation in her removing the excruciating arrow.

She chanced a glance over to Eluvere, feeling embarrassed, mortified at her own behaviour. But damn.. that arrow had hurt in many ways...

Perhaps there had been a quiet part of herself rejoicing to feel that seductive magic flowing in her blood again.

Sighing, burying the thought deep down, she lifted the cup to her lips. appreciating the play of flavours in the steam. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she tilted her head back against the bannister, pondering the company she had found herself in tonight.

They had sat for hours around the table, keeping the Keeper company. Prizing the wine gently from her hands, replacing it with tea. Offering words of comfort, words of sympathy, words to distract.

Cal twitched a crooked smile, taking a long sip of the infusion, eyes following the slow parade of colours across the sky, head tilted toward the calls of the dawn chorus. Sympathy and comfort were well covered by the Shan'do and the Priestess. If Aariam needed a distraction, a spot of larceny or mischief to amuse and divert, well.. she could happily provide that.

What are old friends for hm?

Leaning back again, fingers laced around the warm cup, she acknowledged how contented she felt to remain here tonight. It was undeniable, she had missed this. Maybe it was just the tea giving her this warm feeling, the brew working its spell... tssk. She smiled to herself all the same though.

Eluvere shifted in her sleep, stretching out a little before curling comfortably in upon herself again. Cal glanced back, remembering the sign she had read earlier in the Shan'do's tea-leaves. A winding river. A sign for unstoppable purpose, determination and flexibilty. Not a bad omen at all, one that promised adversity would certainly be overcome. She wondered what the fates had in store for her.

There had been another sign deciphered tonight though, one less hopeful. Anhagath had left his cup on the table and she probably shouldn't have looked, but her curiosity always tingled around abandoned teacups. She simply couldn't be trusted not to sneak a glimpse. His sign had been the comet, or shooting star. A flare of light and brilliance soon burnt out. A sombre sign, hinting at an end of something precious.

Cal drained her cup, feeling the morning light beginning to warm her skin. Peering into her own leaves, at the hulked shape lurking in the bottom of her cup. She almost laughed aloud with surprise and confusion.

"Well now..." She murmured with a bemused grin into the still morning hush "what the fel am I to make of -that-?"
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Anhagath on Fri Feb 12, 2016 8:20 pm

...But what was it?! WHAT WAS IT?
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Re: Walking...

Postby Salirien on Fri Feb 12, 2016 10:36 pm

Another lovely read, Calisar. So calm, but so meaningful, too. ^^

And what's in the cup, man!?
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Sat Feb 13, 2016 3:58 am

The sign is.. a Big Mac. The best sign you could ever have!

And I think a stick of moar won't really cut it out anymore; let's take out the ram of more! :D
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Re: Walking...

Postby Thondalar on Sat Feb 13, 2016 10:59 pm

WHATS IN THE BOOOOOOOX. I mean cup. WHATS IN IT!?
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