IP: 82.46.156.70
Posted on August 27, 2014 at 01:03:41 PM by sperantia
| Sperantia shook her head as she paced, knowing that what Birch was saying wasn't right but not quite being able to put her paw on what was wrong about it. It was like the knowledge was there on the very edge of her mind and she could feel it but she just... couldn't touch it. Her usual technique, bulldozing everything with sheer force of personality, wasn't working at all. She couldn't sternly demand the memories to return, or give them the silent treatment when they did.
Something niggled in the back of the cat's mind then and she knew, suddenly, that the silent treatment was effective. Providing she could maintain it for long enough, it worked exceptionally well on someone someone who didn't like to be ignored, someone for whom social pressure from select people had a profound effect, as much as he tried to pretend otherwise. Now she knew that that someone was her fairy. She turned around to pace back in the other direction, back towards Birch, and had to come to an abrupt halt when she found the otter blocking her path. He maintained his distance, and dropped something small and shiny onto the kitchen floor. Naturally curious, Sperantia pricked her ears and craned her neck forward to see... a ball. Keeping one blue eye fixed firmly on Rochambeau, she padded slowly forward and patted the ball cautiously with one outstretched paw. It rolled towards the counter, making a little jingly sound and proving that it was only a ball. Sperantia watched it roll away before returning her gaze to Birch's familiar, unable to decide quite how to respond. She liked to play simple games, she knew, but not around other people except... There they were again: the thoughts, feelings, the knowledge of things which just came. Her memories, she realised, could not be coerced into the open, but if she opened the door they might just flow through of their own accord. Sperantia thought back to when she'd talked about Mallos in Birch's bedroom, and how she'd spoken Spanish without realising she could, and tried to recreate that feeling that emptiness in her mind, creating the space for her to talk without thinking. Death is death, Birch, she stated flatly, resuming her pacing. If she could focus on walking, and not think about what she was saying... The dead cannot be revived, but divine beings are extraordinarily difficult to kill. They can be decapitated, garrotted, drowned, burned or eaten, and their divine magic will restore them given enough time. Divine beings can only be killed if they lose their magic or if they are fatally attacked by a certain type of beast: a subspecies of Nile crocodile. The information rolled off her tongue as if it had always been there, but it startled her. Refusing to give way to surprise, Sperantia continued doggedly on. If they knew the ancient creature was coming then the other deities must have tried to bring them back quicker, otherwise... if they'd lost their magic while 'dead' then they would have truly died. But if they were restored in a hurry... She sat and let the thought trail, mulling it all over. Everything she'd just said was as much news to her as it was to Birch. When I woke up, Mallos was asleep, she muttered, eyeing the silver ball. He didn't... look well. She exhaled deeply, before jumping suddenly to her paws. This was spiralling out of control she had to take command of the situation back. So I've lost my memories because he was an idiot who tried to take on a leviathan-dragon? She demanded. I don't want to be saddled to a prat for the rest of my life. |
Replies:
- only need the light when it's burning low - By torram & birch September 12, 2014 at 00:00:52 AM
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