![Newbie Guide](https://i.imgur.com/Uy7hIlu.png")
Post by Gloriosa on Oct 27, 2021 11:33:30 GMT -5
The city had been wonderful, would no doubt be wonderful again, but Gloriosa did not come to Plant just to enjoy the turmoil inflicted upon its people. This was a land that had seen so much pain; a world that had no doubt once been lovely, transformed into a scarred battlefield of horror and death.
She came for inspiration, and she would find it in places such as these as much as she would amongst the desperate and the craven, the ruthless and the potent. She had only been on this world a short time, and already she felt such an abundance of emotion that it was difficult to keep it all in check!
The woman stood atop a rocky outcropping overlooking a canyon in which all manner of scuttling saiba-creatures feasted and frollicked with one another. The sun was pale; dismal light through clouds saturated with acid, with only the wind whipping at her loose robes to stir sound. It as though even the sun itself were too shamed to look down upon this blasted and wretched place. In her black and grey clothes, with her raven-dark hair and the soulless pits of her eyes, Gloriosa could scarcely have looked like she belonged in such an awful place more unless she were to turn green and sprout claws. She was muted. So too was this land. But neither would last for long.
The missing element was the violin, which she now pulled from its case, and rose to rest comfortably at her neck. The smooth black instrument nestled against her cheek, raised her bow to the strings. Smiled. Too-white teeth exposed by the stretch of thin, pale lips. Then, she began to play. And it was a wonder that she was able to smile while such haunting tones came pouring from her heart.
It was always good to practice in secluded places such as this; where she could let her fingers and her soul wander freely without the judgement of an audience. That, at least, was the desire. The melody that spun from her strings carried for quite some distance; augmented by her magics to bring with it the accompaniment that she needed to truly capture the emotion she sought.
Loss. It was such a familiar refrain for her. Once, the bones of this song were in a tale of comraderie and togetherness; but she had taken those bones and broken them into a shape more pleasing to her purposes.
Look, there. Across the top of the ravine a brave soul came to the aid of another; shadowy shapes, but they moved with purpose beneath the rich reverberation of those beautiful strings. The taller of the pair was injured. Hurt. The other tended their wounds, lifted them onto their shoulders.
And was cast down into the ravine, to the horror of the violin. Only for the larger of the pair to, wailing, fling itself bodily after, both figures breaking back apart into the shadow from which they had formed at Gloriosa's insistence.
Yes, there was potential in this song. Perhaps not quite in that form, but she would find it, and bring it out.
She came for inspiration, and she would find it in places such as these as much as she would amongst the desperate and the craven, the ruthless and the potent. She had only been on this world a short time, and already she felt such an abundance of emotion that it was difficult to keep it all in check!
The woman stood atop a rocky outcropping overlooking a canyon in which all manner of scuttling saiba-creatures feasted and frollicked with one another. The sun was pale; dismal light through clouds saturated with acid, with only the wind whipping at her loose robes to stir sound. It as though even the sun itself were too shamed to look down upon this blasted and wretched place. In her black and grey clothes, with her raven-dark hair and the soulless pits of her eyes, Gloriosa could scarcely have looked like she belonged in such an awful place more unless she were to turn green and sprout claws. She was muted. So too was this land. But neither would last for long.
The missing element was the violin, which she now pulled from its case, and rose to rest comfortably at her neck. The smooth black instrument nestled against her cheek, raised her bow to the strings. Smiled. Too-white teeth exposed by the stretch of thin, pale lips. Then, she began to play. And it was a wonder that she was able to smile while such haunting tones came pouring from her heart.
It was always good to practice in secluded places such as this; where she could let her fingers and her soul wander freely without the judgement of an audience. That, at least, was the desire. The melody that spun from her strings carried for quite some distance; augmented by her magics to bring with it the accompaniment that she needed to truly capture the emotion she sought.
Loss. It was such a familiar refrain for her. Once, the bones of this song were in a tale of comraderie and togetherness; but she had taken those bones and broken them into a shape more pleasing to her purposes.
Look, there. Across the top of the ravine a brave soul came to the aid of another; shadowy shapes, but they moved with purpose beneath the rich reverberation of those beautiful strings. The taller of the pair was injured. Hurt. The other tended their wounds, lifted them onto their shoulders.
And was cast down into the ravine, to the horror of the violin. Only for the larger of the pair to, wailing, fling itself bodily after, both figures breaking back apart into the shadow from which they had formed at Gloriosa's insistence.
Yes, there was potential in this song. Perhaps not quite in that form, but she would find it, and bring it out.
