thequeensown | 2nd Sending [Audio/Commentlog]

ii'm fiine.

I am glad .. If you are in need of anything, just let me know.

[You might not want to hear it, but that's a bit of relief in her voice, Sollux. Yep, Talia is happy that you are okay.]

ii don't need you two take care of me.

[An audible sigh at this, but she's still smiling faintly to herself; he reminded her a bit of Marco. His own reticence toward her had been almost ever prevalent in their conversations, but there was still a softness there if you knew where to look.]

I would never imagine that you would, Sollux, but the offer stands on the very slim chance that this should ever change.

T'anks, but I don't t'ink she gonna be turnin' up anytime soon.

[She may just be a raptor but he sounds kind of torn up about losing her.]

[Talia would be the last person to ever think that about Shaka. She knows full well how connected Kevas was to the raptor and how he felt about having a piece of home here at the Keep; a piece he'd never even seen on the Elegante.]

Have faith, my love .. were we not of the mind that we would never see another from our homes at all? And yet, Shaka came once .. perhaps she will show herself again.

[It matters not that Talia has doubts about this herself .. right now she is concerned for Kevas.]

Maybe...

She been da only t'ing I've seen of my world in years.

[Those other raptors don't count. Shaka was special to him, almost a part of them family. It brought him back to a time when his family was whole.]

[Talia gently caresses their bond and nods. Oh, she understands all too well, Kevas, believe you me.]

I know, love .. until we know otherwise, keep positive ..

[Oh, but the disappoint was going to epically SUCK. D:]

[Kevas feels her touch and pauses.]

I was gonna give her to my daughtah one day.

[Ouch .. that sucks. :(

She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, his own emotions strong even through the thin thread of their bond she keeps open at nearly all times.]

Mayhap there is still a chance, Kevas .. even if she has gone from here for now ..

[Does Talia mean daughter or raptor .. perhaps both.]

I will let you know what I learn, alright?

[Again Kevas goes silent. He's long since given up on ever seeing his little girl. She died a long time ago and killing her form on the boat months ago cemented that for him. Shaka was his connection to her again. Now that she's gone it's almost like losing her again. Maybe it's not as painful this time but dammit it still hurts. For now he'll just sit in front of his makeshift graveyard and remember.]

Maybe, but my luck nevah been dat good.

Alright. Be careful...I love joo.

[He's not sure why he says it. It just feels like something that he needs to say.]

[The silence is almost worse than the knowing. Talia could never forget the raw grief and pain the troll had gone through upon losing his daughter. She would never presume to think that pain ever gone entirely, and this incident has only brought the matter to heart and mind again.

Her voice is soft and comforting as she responds.]

Always with the utmost of care, beloved .. I love you, too.

[She'll never not return that sentiment .. even if he's only told her a moment earlier. She threads love into the bond in the most gentle of caresses.]

[He readily accepts it. Kevas won't make the same mistake with her as he did with so many others. Willow, Monoxide, his sisters, he loves them all so dearly even if they are lost to him, but did he ever tell them that?]

Call me if joo be needin' me. Ain't be doin' much. Just havin' a drink wid some old friends.

[It wasn't too long ago that Kevas drank to forget. Now he strives to remember every last memory of them he can. He's the only thing keeping them all alive in some form. If he forgets, then they really will be lost forever.]

[Have a grunt in reply, Talia. She's lucky he likes her.]

What's up, girlie?

[D'awwwww, he likes her! :D However glad she is to hear from him so quickly, Talia has the presence of mind to know that somethings are best not broadcast to everyone without a care.]

Coen, the animals and vehicles that appear every month ..

[She trails off. However glad she is to hear from him so quickly, Talia has the presence of mind to know that somethings are best not broadcast to everyone without a care.]

Is there anyway I might speak with you in person? The subject matter is a bit .. delicate .. in nature. I would rather speak with those involved personally than have them find out simply by researching their journal.

[She'd also rather not ask outright 'How do I lock entries, yo??' but if he catches her meaning, locked replies would work peachy keen, too!]

[Another grunt. Dos sounds a little tired today.]

Third floor of the stables. Just yell out when you get here.

[He catches her drift, but wants to talk to her first.]

[It might only be a grunt and Talia might have her empathy behind some hardcore shielding, but her ears still work, mister. But, she's going to see him in person, now, so she can make certain everything is alright.]

Thank you.

[And with that she closes and tucks away her journal on her person and heads off to the stables. She sees Shaka missing from the pen and gives the trunks of the friendly elephants a gentle pat as they extend them toward her. A passing pat to her cranky neighborhood stallion and she makes her way up a level, heading toward the loft.

Up that final flight of stairs/ladder and she stops before proceeding any further, glancing around as she calls out.]

Coen?

[A hand raises from the hay pile. Flopped back in it is Dos, who sets down the book he's been reading and moves to sit up.]

Thought I told you not to call me that.

[You would think him used to people not listening to that, but Dos still reacts every time. His tone is more an amused, weary rumble than annoyance of any kind.]

C'mon then. What did you want to talk to old Uncle Dos about?

[Talia catches that hand wave and her lips quirk a bit as she makes her way over as Dos sits up.]

Mmm, I'm certain you did.

[There is amusement in her own tone, gently dismissing his correction which he himself seems only stating to state. Her smile widens a bit at the 'uncle' bit and then slips again, brows knitting slightly. She shifts and moves to join him on the hay pile, legs folding beneath her and not minding at all the prickly sensation. She's spent a good number of evenings nestled into a hay pile for lack of other sleeping quarters.

There's something soothing about the scent of fresh hay, as well ..]

We spoke of the animals and vehicles that come here .. that they change from month to month, with some stragglers remaining longer. That they are not to be kept from their enclosures longer than six hours at a time. [She worries at her lower lip a bit.]

What of the raptor, Shaka? The large female with horns and poisonous skin that belonged to Kevas .. she is nowhere to be found, but he was decisively careful about making certain to have her back within the time frame.

[Intense gaze is intense. You feel that intensity?]

Is she gone, Coen?

[He feels it alright, and he meets it with a gaze to match. Dos nods.]

Yeah, she's gone. There's a few ways it works here, or at least these are the trends I've picked up on.

The general mass in the stables changes roughly every 30 days. Sometimes things stay longer than that, but most times they don't. The horses switch up more than that. Pretty much every day we've got different mares or geldings or whatever in the stalls. Don't ask me how or why cause I dunno.

[Bending a knee, Dos rests his arm on it, but doesn't look away from Talia.]

Shaka was one of the rare cases. She turned up at random, stayed longer than some but less than most and wouldn't vanish if she was left out, I don't think.

[He's talking too much. Dos makes a low, growly sound, a sign that he's thinking things over.]

But yeah, she's gone. Whether or not she comes back, I can't say.

[Small pause. Dos smirks.]

She was his, right? Your lover?

[She listens as he speaks and with each word her heart sinks and her stomach tightens. She had feared that this was the case, but to know that the likelihood of Shaka returning was minimal was very disheartening.

Even so, she listens with a grim resolution to hear it all out, whether or not she enjoys the news. Kevas deserved to know if Shaka was gone for good and at least Talia felt she could answer that now and help him through his own grieving process.

Still .. a chance still stood. Her appearing had been a sort of fluke and some of the restrictions did not effect her. And Dos wasn't certain if she would come back or not .. there was still a chance, however slim it was.

She nods, exhaling softly and her shoulders sink a bit, but then he asks his own questions and her lips quirk slightly despite the situation.]

Aye, she is Kevas' mount from his home world .. Although he is more my husband than simply a lover.

[Blushing? Talia??? Yep .. Yep she is. A whole lotta blushing going on right over here.]

[Not that catches him off-guard. Dos stares a moment, notes the blush and what's been said and grins at her. He speaks a few words in his home language. Even without translation, Dos makes no effort to hide his amusement.]

I shoulda picked that. Damn troll beatin' me to the prize.

[He sighs, a little exaggerated and meets her gaze. Dos smirks.]

You're cute when you blush. Anyone ever tell you that?

[Yeah, people have a tendency to react to that tidbit of information about the same way. Tiny Talia .. Hulking Kevas .. Opposites attract, however, and stranger things were certainly possible; weren't they? ;D

Coen's amusement is plain, even if Talia doesn't understand the native words he uses. She chuckles softly, the sound low and husky as she absently rolls a piece of hay between her fingers.]

The prize, hmm?

[She looks up through the fall of her auburn curls, mirth open in her hazel gaze. She drops the straw and reclines, resting back on the balls of her hands (like yer icon there, Dos!)]

I don't suppose anyone has mentioned that you are quite attractive when you're flirting .. [Her grins broadens.] And when you not.

[Oh Talia. Dos doesn't take his eyes off her, his own grin spreading at the mention of his good looks.]

Girlie, I get told that all the time.

[His voice is a low growl. She might be playing it up, but hell if Dos isn't playing to match.]

You know what happened the last time I got too close to a married woman?

[He leans in a little, voice keeping that same tone.]

[My, what a pointy grin you have there, Dos. However, the Herald doesn't recoil or seem even the slightest bit alarmed.]

Is that so? Why doesn't that surprise me in the least .. I would find it hard to believe, with you being the attractive young man you are, that I am the sole object of those affections ..

[The last sounds more rhetorical than not. No, with the way she found you acting, dear Dos, the young Herald was relatively certain you heard that all too often and that you knew just how to turn on the charm. Not that this meant it wasn't effective or well received, however, because there was no denying that he was quite good at what he was doing; the game of words and intrigue was one Talia played quite well..

Although she'd keep the fact that his low growl did manage to send a rather pleasant chill down her neck and spine to herself. Yep, keeping that to self. Talia arches her brow smartly, sitting back up and leaning in with an air of exagerrated curiosity.]

No .. Tell me, Coen .. what happened?

[Although she has just the tiniest inkling of what could have happened to a marriage when someone with this amount of sex appeal and confidence got involved.]

Edited 2011-05-31 15:52 (UTC)

[It's then that he unbuttons the top two on his shirt and pulls the material aside that Talia might see two scars on his chest. They are deep, ugly marks, remnants of the gunfire that had rained down his way when the husband, also Dos' superior had found out about the Stable Master's involvement with his wife.]

Shit got real.

[That said, he stops his advances and flops back, hands behind his head and shirt still open, skin beneath etched with scars, tattoos and large, hard scale plates. Dos shuts his eyes and smirks, apparently relaxed once more.]

And nah, you aren't the only one. But the other is as out of reach as you are so I guess my luck is on a bit of a downward turn.

[He pauses, smirk broadening as he chuckles to himself.]

Young. How old do you think I am, Talia?

[Talia's brow arches just a little bit higher as Dos begins to unbutton his shirt, but she doesn't make to run away in any fashion. She knows how to play with the big boys and isn't particularly afraid to do so.

Her brows knit as he gaze drops and falls on the scars he reveals to her, hissing out a soft burst of air. Although guns were not known in Valdemar, she'd learned of them on the Elegante and recognized the damange.]

Haven .. I should say so ..

[She nearly reaches a hand to trace the scars before propriety kicks in and she keeps her hands firmly in her own lap. No, touching him would not help the situation. Her eyes linger on his chest for a moment, taking in the scars, tattoos and plating before flitting back to his face as he relaxes back yet again, eyes closed.

She tssks softly, but there is a teasing smile in her voice as she speaks.]

Well, one can't fault your good taste, Coen .. misplaced though it might be at times.

[Then she tilts her head slightly and studies him. She hadn't meant literally young when she'd commented, but his question was valid in any case. She finally gives a wry smile and shakes her head lightly, curls shifting with the motion and obscurring the scar on the left side of her face.]

I've believe I would be quite off the mark with any guess I might make .. [She shifts, pulling her legs up and hugs her knees against her chest, gaze curious and far older than her own twenty four years.] Older than I, I think it at least safe to say .. [She rests her chin atop her folded arms.] How old?

Thank you.

I would enjoy that, My Lady.

[There is a pause in the writing.]

Whenever you are willing to play, I will gladly listen.

[The relief in her voice is audible and Talia sighs softly, closing her eyes and offering a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess before speaking.]

My time is at your leisure, Isabella .. I am always willing to spend time with a friend. Are you busy now?

[You can not see it Talia, but it piques her curiosity that there is relief in your voice. There is confusion too, she surely can not be considered a friend!]

I

[Pause]

am not busy now. But surely, you have other things to attend to?

[Oh, Isabella .. Talia does not even know if she is older than you, but she has had much the same reaction to others in her past.

The winged girls' response earns a frown that thankfully cannot be seen and she makes a point to not let it be heard in her voice. She does, however, tssk softly and give a shake of her head.]

Kitling, there is nothing more important for me to attend to or that I'd rather. [A brief pause.] I'll come to you though .. where are you?

[ Taken aback would be putting her reaction lightly. The gears turn in her head as she tries to parse exactly what she had done that earned a tssk and importance from the other woman.

The pause before answering is noticeable.]

I am at the chapel, My Lady.

I shall join you presently ..

[And she's off, pausing by her room at the barracks long enough to procure her borrowed harp and is then on her way. It's several minutes later, but she steps into the familiar and comforting chapel.

She exhales softly, just taking in the soothing surroundings and then her eyes scan the pews for the familiar form of Isabella.]

[Isabella heard the doors to the chapel open, and stood from where she had been sitting. At the sight of Talia she offers a small smile, though inside she was nervous and curious all at once. The curiosity only rose more at the sight of the harp. No matter what may happen, music could conquer all.]

Good day, My Lady. It is a pleasure to see you again.

[Talia would notice the scars on her face coming closer, they are white and thin but were not there the last they had met. ]

[Talia sees Isabella as she rises to her feet and returns her smile with one in kind. There is not avoiding the nerves that the young woman is projecting and Talia is gentle in the caress of soothing comfort she offers back.]

And a good day to you as well, Isabella ..

[She is close enough to see though scars, standing out only just as pale lines across her lightly toned skin. She steps up to the young woman and gently lifts a hand to her cheek. However, she meets 'Bella's gaze evenly and touches the same hand to the left side of her face and the jagged scar that runs from temple to chin, only barely missing her eye. Her smile never slips, but there is a certain determination in her gaze when she speaks next.

There are any number of other scars beneath her tunic, wrapping around her torso, that match that on her face.]

They make us stronger .. never think yourself any less beautiful for then, for you are not. You are beautiful still, inside and out, and they make not a damnable difference.

[It sounds like she's given this speech before .. more than likely had it told to her as well. She searches Isabella's gaze briefly and then her expression softens and her hand draws away.]

May I play for you?

[Her nerves step down and she is less likely to startled at sudden movements or bolt. Some of the tension in her shoulders ease. This was Talia. A fellow bard after all...

Then her eyes widen as young woman lifts her hand. It was unexpected. And gentle though the gesture may be, there is much hesitation on Isabella's part. The only hands that were raised to her, were not ones of kindness like this. She meets the eyes of Talia and glances over to the scars there.

She had taken in the facial scars when they had first met, but it was another thing in the light of this. Oh Talia, she wished right now that she could have that fire in your eyes for her own! Instead she's left with a feeling of defenselessness and shame.

Memories of a younger time surge, unwanted, and she forces them down and in. Feathers twitch. She knows of this speech too. But had never heard it from someone else's mouth before.

It bolsters her a little but, she is still unable to quite control her voice when she speaks out. It comes out in a quick squeak. ]

Yes! Please.

[Talia can't help but pick up on 'Bella's emotional surges and drops. The poor girl is a mess after her attack and the fact that she doesn't quite believe Talia's words yet would be clear and readable with without empathy.

Even so, she smiles in response and takes the bardic harp from its carrying case and settles onto one of the pews. She strums a few times, adjusting the strings as needed to finish tuning the piece. When she is satisfied in a way that would leave Jadus happy, she begins to play.

It's a silly song, but her voice is clear and true. Jadus had once told her that she'd been Gifted enough that Bardic might have taken her in if she had not been Chosen first.

When the notes of the first song come to an end and she feels that she has properly warmed her voice for further singing, she changes to another song altogether, this one not a song of her childhood, but of what life as a Herald means.]

[Talia? You have this bard's complete and undivided attention as soon as you had laid fingers on the harp.

She listens with two minds. The first is the part of her that files the notes away, keeps the tune intact and notes the technical aspect. It is the second that cracks a smiles on her face as she realizes it is a song that is being sung to sheep of all things.

She was taking pleasure in listening to the music, the voice was true, the fingers sure.

So when Talia switched songs, Isabella was pulled along with her. It was different all together to be sure. It quieted the amusement she had been feeling. This was more than a song, it was a pledge. It was not something that Isabella herself would ever repeat but was something that held a wealth of knowledge within in. Speaking of a kind of people that were noble and honorable. Perhaps only a song-creed that could be sung by the ones taking it?

Isabella does not feel that clapping would be appropriate after such a song but she offers a smile when she speaks.]

Beautiful, My Lady! You could ply the trade better than most I would say.

[The pause is brief but the curiosity is there in spades.]

The last song? Was that a song of your kingdom? A knight's pledge?

[ Your pledge?]

[Talia certainly understands losing yourself to music and she lets the final chord slowly fade on its own, eyes closed. She exhales softly and opens her hazel eyes, turning them to Isabella as she softly speaks.

She smiles softly in return, lips quirked a bit.]

Not as good as some, but I thank you sincerely .. It's been far too long since I last played.

[She strokes the harp almost lovingly, her gaze distant for a moment before Isabella's next question is voiced. She looks to her again, nodding.]

The Herald's creed, yes .. The vow we make to country and kingdom. My vow.

[Yes, 'Bella, she caught that unasked question.]

[She shakes her head.]

Always a bigger fish... as the saying is, right? I do mean the words though, I hope to hear more of your playing.

[Then she almost literally brightened. She could have been a cat in a past life when certain things catch her curious and in need of itching that scratch. ]

Your vow? What a kingdom you have then.

[ What a character you have also... there was admiration on her face. She had heard of stories of those of virtue, but never a pledge like this. Nor met anyone who had taken it.]

If it is not against your vows or duty, can I ask how one becomes a Herald? Must you preform a task of some kind? Are you of a noble bloodline?

[Talia smiles softly and shakes her head, her fingers gently strumming the harp strings.]

Nay, fair Lady. There is nothing that says I cannot speak of what a Herald is or does. We actually encourage such conversation, as it's better that the people know what you are and do than the opposite. Not telling simply makes them believe us fearsome and untrustworthy .. Although the former can be no less true at certain times.

There is no bloodlines that discerns who will become a Herald, as we have those in our midst that are simple peasants .. [She dips her head to indicate herself.] and those of royalty, such as our own Queen and her daughter, to whom I am sworn to serve and protect above all else. A Herald must have bravery and valor .. They must be trustworthy and willing to give everything to serve the people and crown. They must be willing to die for what we have sworn .. and many do. A Herald's life is not a long one, more often than not.

[The last is said matter of fact, but her tone is far more sober than it had been.]

Many of us are Gifted .. that is, we have magic abilities that we were born with. Empathy, Fetching, Far seeing and other Gifts. I, for example, am an empath. I can read the emotions of those around me .. and I can alter them. It's, perhaps, the worst Gift of all in that it is guided by a persons own moral standing. I had much to prove to the people, so they would not think i would abuse my Gift in order to sway the Queen, whom I serve directly. I never would have, but many of the people do not know what it means to be Chosen..

[Ooooo. Did you hear the inflection change of that word, Isabella? Sounds pretty important, yes? :D]

Edited 2011-05-31 16:12 (UTC)

[Ah Talia, you are telling a story as you speak and it is rather pleasant to listen to. Full of a strange land and stranger people for truth.

She did not expect any less from one who was so oathsworn to kingdom and country to live very long, but still it turns a quiet frown on her face. She hoped the Herald in front of her would not share that in that fate. She liked the woman.

At first she tilts her head curiously at the mention of magical Gifts and influences. Most of those sounded to be born with, the things that can not be taught. She did not know how to take the admission of having empathy strong enough to control emotions. She's heard of bards with that power- but this did not sound like the sway of music.

She's perplexed, it almost sounds like a warning... For what end though, Isabella did not know.

What she did know on the other hand, was a lead in for a story and that was plain as day. Isabella was more than inclined to be led in this story that Talia was telling.]

What does it mean to be Chosen?

[Oh, don't worry Isabella! Talia has already survived several attempts on her life. Not that those instances have not had their fair share of emotional scarring, because BOY have they and Talia suffers from a grand bout of post traumatic stress.

Her explaining empathy to Isabella was both a warning and not. Talia had no intentions of using her Gift for ill, or for harming anyone with it (cause she can do that too, you know!), but she felt that those she would call friend deserved to know. There had been too many instances of lies being spread through the Collegium for her to not be wary of such happening again.

She had lost control of her abilities once, those many years ago, and though she did not plan on such being a repeat offense, it was best that people were prepared for what she was capable of .. wasn't it?

At Isabella's question she falls silent, her gaze growing distant. There it was .. a question she both dreaded and hoped for. To speak of this meant she had to speak of Rolan, and that was a wound that would never fully heal.

When she speaks, her voice is initially soft and a bit strained, but she continues and it clears. She goes almost into a state of Recall, a trance that allows a Herald to parrot back information with perfect recollection. However, she's only halfway into the trance, her own emotions distracting her.]

To understand what it means to be Chosen is to first understand Companions.. Companions are highly intelligent magical creatures who look like, but are not, white horses with silver hooves and sapphire eyes. The Companions first appeared from a grove near the palace in Haven, in response to King Valdemar's prayer. Though the first Companions were all Grove-Born, later generations were born in the manner of normal horses.

They are both the returned spirits of departed Heralds and Companions, as well as divine agents or "avatars" of our gods. Companions take great pains to reveal that they are both fallible and mortal. When a Companion or Herald dies, he or she is sent to a "resting place" where they can recover from their recent life. After a time they are given the choice of returning as a Companion, with all memory of their past life intact, or to lose all of their old memories and become a human baby destined to become a Herald. Not all Heralds are returned from previous lifetimes, many are "new souls" who are then judged/weighed by the Companions to join the ranks of the Heralds.

These spirits are not allowed to return as Companions within the lifetime of the people they knew to avoid emotional entanglements such as Choosing their own child, or revealing themselves to their former lover.

The Companion to the Monarch's Own Herald is always a Grove-Born Stallion, and is considered the leader of the Companions.

[She pauses here for a moment before continuing, not realizing that there are tears in her eyes that have formed while she spoke.]

Each Herald has such a Companion. Companions "Choose" Heralds in the trainee or apprentice stage.

The Choice bonds Companions to their Heralds into a mutual relationship, and the bond can affect both parties' spiritual and physical well-being. The Companion becomes a loving friend who guides, supports, and sometimes augments a Herald's abilities. The joining is known to strengthen the Herald's Gifts, especially Mindspeech. The Choice is, for the most part, permanent; it can be broken while in its early stages, although doing so will physically and emotionally scar both parties. After the initial phase, however, the bond becomes so important that the loss of either Herald or Companion is followed by depression and almost always death. Despite this a Companion can break the bond .. repudiate .. with their Chosen if at any time, they believe the Herald or Herald Trainee to have become unworthy.

The defining factor of one's Choosing seems to rely on the individual's moral fiber and where applicable, their ability to provide something that is needed by Valdemar, at the time.

[She stumbles to a halt here, tears slipping down her cheeks as she forces herself to swallow. She exhales shakily, and turns to look at Isabella again, almost having forgotten the young woman was with her, listening.]

I fell into Rolan's eyes when he came to me .. I'd found something I'd never known I was missing. Weighed and measured and found worthy of his unconditional love and acceptance. [Her voice hitches.] Always at the edge of my mind .. always able to find me .. [Her hazel gaze finds Isabella's and it is full of pain that she keeps to herself, pain that she keeps tightly shielded, even from Kevas.] The End .. It kil- .. [She falters there, unable to voice aloud that he was dead. That just made it all the more real and she still could not believe that he was gone from her forever. She chokes out the next words .. shields so tightly clamped that she'll have a headache for it later.]

H-he .. He was my soul ..

[Isabella listens quietly as Talia recounts the Chosen-tale. It was beautiful. Divine. Speaking of a touch of fate and destiny that few stories she had heard to this point could touch upon. The closest being perhaps the stories of true love and soul mates. Stories that ended as tragedies, one and all.

The longer the accounting went on, the farther it began to delve into personal matters. Like snow falling down a mountainside, it started a cascade.

Seeing the tears in Talia's eyes caused a pain deep within Isabella's chest.

She could not be unaffected by this, not in the least. To sit here and hear the emotions in Talia's voice, read it in her body and not react would take a heart of solid stone. The bard was not made of that stern stuff. When Talia plunged into the drawbacks and consequences of Companion and Herald, her own breath hitched. You did not need to be a seer to see where the tale would lead.

When she heard the name Roland she knew.

When hazel eyes met green and the bard saw the jagged pain laying there, her own eyes welled with witnessing it.

When the young woman in front of her chokes on words that were pain-filled to even mentally recount.... the half-angelic moves.

She did not know if it was right, or proper, or acceptable. She could not know how the Herald would react. The little voices inside of the bard that reminded her of manners and procedures for everyday life, were struck dumb. Hearing Talia's voice break was the final blow.

A rustle of feathers accompanies the bard as she puts awkward arms around Talia.

They might hold her too tight in one place, too loose in another and there is no motherly bosom that Talia could find solace in. Isabella does her best to comfort, unpracticed as she is, and will share in your pain and bleed a little with you. ]

[Once the flow of her grief has started, it swells and tumbles quickly from her tightly held control. Not her shields, mind .. just the tears. Talia had long since lost her connection with her Companion, their link severed the moment she'd been taken from her world and dropped onto the deck of the MS Elegante. However, it had been months before the crew and survivors had learned that their entire worlds were no more.

Her Companion .. the other half of her soul .. was dead; murdered by the End as it consumed all the worlds it passed. The crew and survivors had been forced to 'kill' them yet again when they made the choice to deny the End and fight against it.

Though the reality of Rolan's death could not be denied, there had been no time to properly mourn while upon the Elegante and the Shore. Too busy trying to survive to properly grieve, the Herald kept the festering wound to herself. Her shields became her lifeline, protecting those around her from what she could not allow herself to fall into.

Not even to Kevas would she show the full weight of her pain, knowing the he himself was facing more than his own weight with the loss of his daughter and friends.

Ever self-sacrificing, the Herald put the need and pain of others before herself as she always would.

Isabella's comfort, confused and uncertain as it may be, is more than she's ever allowed herself and she crumples beneath its offering. She clutches at the angel girl as she is pulled gently into her arms, body wracked with sobs. She cares not that Isabella is younger and unpracticed, taking far more solace from her than the girl might realize.

There is nothing pretty about this .. grief in it's finest and most raw. Even losing Dirk, her soul mate, had not been as painful as accepting the loss of the one being that knew and loved her above all else. Still, she keeps the emotional weight to herself, wishing in no way to share this sorrow with anyone more than she already is.]

[When she pulls Isabella tight and starts sobbing, Isabella responses in the only way she knows how. She holds the Herald closer and lets her cry. She can feel her own tears welling with sympathy for the woman, it would not take much when hearing such sorrow bubble forth.

She can not speak. Nor will she. There was nothing she felt she could say that would ease this kind of grief.

Her good wing moves with Isabella and instinctively tries to cup around Talia, shielding them both partly. ]

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[Commentlog] Unf .. Dos, why so damn sexy? This thread = so uplifting compared to Isabella one! :O

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[Commentlog] Your new icons are really cute!!

[Commentlog] Thank you! I so need more

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[commentlog] ANGST IS GO! :D 1/2

[commentlog] THE ANGST!!!!! 2/2

Heartstrings.... youhavethem.

/plays them better than the harp! :D

*CRAI*

CRAI