Write an RP scene responding to the following prompt:
What is the story behind that wing-like construction of yours? Did you make them yourself, or what? What do they mean to you?
Information ♦ ♦ ♦ ──────────────────────────────────────
1. Yes, the wings are removable. He can take them off when he wants to. The only requirement is that they must be a possession of great importance to him.
2. No, he cannot fly or glide with those wings. They might increase his airtime SLIGHTLY when he does a long jump, but not enough to call it gliding.
3. There is no electricity or anything powering the wings to move/flap. Whoever made them must have found the parts (or perhaps the entire thing almost completely assembled, only without the harness/ feathers/ scarf) in the ruins and put them together. Unless you can think of another way of obtaining that thing in this world...?
4. His name does not have to be Icarus... unless you want that to be his name!
5. No min/max word count. Just don't give us a novel, and give your entry enough content to be judged properly.
6. Entries must be submitted by the deadline to be eligible. Post them in this thread, please! No PM entries.
7. keiiii is the only one running and judging this thing. CoR manangers are not involved, so they are welcome to participate just like non-staff patrons. (As of now, keiiii hasn't even officially chosen the managers yet!)
♦.Overall impact ♦.Implementation of the prompt theme ♦.Your understanding of the lore as reflected in your entry ♦.Although it probably won't be a huge factor, grammar may play a role as well. Psst, using "it's" as a possessive determiner is a major pet peeve of mine...
Posted: Fri Oct 18, 2013 9:11 pm
Username: Seruta Corleo Name: Icarus Shanak: Heat Prompt Response: "You can be anything you want to be, Icarus. You can do anything you set your mind to..."
"No. I can't."
"Yes. You can. And you will. Just give it time..."
"But-..."
"Shhh... It's time to wake up now..."
"... wait... wha-?!"
"It's time to wake up now. So, wake up..."
"I said, wake up, Icarus!"
The fleeting image of billowing auburn locks faded into the light that now poured into the Corleos' bright green eyes. A different figure stood over him now. A black mane of hair flowing from her nape and her piercing blue eyes staring him down.
"You were doing it again!"
"Doing what?"
"Talking. Babbling nonsense in your sleep!"
"It wasn't nonsense..."
"Then what else would you call it?!" she snipped, staring him down more so. She huffed as he gave nothing more than a downward gaze. "Just... Just bring home something to eat this time, ok?"
With a solemn nod, Icarus rolled forward onto his paws and pushed his way outdoors. The midday sun shone brightly over him, filling him with warmth and he set out to do his daily duty... However, just out of eyeshot, he made a detour, turning towards the ruins as he attempted to clear his mind from his dream.
She was there again. Haunting him. It never failed. But it was the kind of haunting he longed for. He hated when Alisstah woke him from them. Even though she was his half-sister, she would never understand. She still had those she cared for with her. What did she know of such heartache? Talking or not, he longed to see 'her' again more and more each day and being so rudely woken from those dreams turned more and more into heartbreak.
A glimmer caught his eye as he rounded a hill near the ruins and he smiled softly to himself. There she was again. Waiting for him. His paws quickened and he moved with a little more vigor. There was still so much work to be done. Green eyes began scanning the nearby terrain, searching for the moving body of the human he'd been associating with as of late. It didn't take him long. Humans were less agile and stealthy, making his Corleo form easy to pin point.
"Ah! Icarus!" came the suave vocals from the human as Icarus came bounding into view. "Ready to finish that bad boy up?"
Icarus gave a chuckle. Humans and their idioms... Thankfully for Icarus, he'd spent enough time around this human to understand most of the general translation to his sentences. "Always and willing, Jerol." he smiled and shifted. He then eagerly retrieved a bundled parsel from a small rock enclosure near where the Human had made camp. Another glimmer caught the corner of his eye. "Do you think we'll finish it today?" he asked in all eagerness as he began unwrapping the parsel.
"Just a few more final touches, I think. Then she'll be ready to fly!" Jerol gave a gleaming smile.
Icarus couldn't hide his excitement. Soon he'd be flying! Really flying! Then he can be closer to her again...
Another shimmer...
He worked diligently, putting his heart and soul into everything Jerol instructed. Jerol was new to the region, but preferred a life mostly composed of solitude. He'd had a few relationships, all of which ended poorly and he felt that his time was better spent on his own. He considered himself a "scientist" and dabbled in things such as research and building things anyways. His heart belonged to his work. To which - for this particular project - Icarus mimicked every action to the Tee.
"Alrighty, buddy..." Jerol announced as he held up a feather. "Last one, and then we'll give it a whirl."
Icarus bit his lip and carefully fused the feather into place. He realized then that he had been holding his breath and sat back, exhaling slowly. He was done. His... no, THEIR invention was complete! He paused a moment, looking over the wings with a new found passion.
"Well?" Jerol asked with some slight impatience.
"Well, what?"
"Well! Go feral, already!" he chuckled, waving his hands.
"Oh!" Icarus shifted again and paced briefly until Jerol assisted him into the straps of the wings. Once they were secure, he climbed to the top of one of the more stable ruined pieces nearby. It was high enough that he could potentially have plenty of room to gather any sort of lift-off, but low enough that should he fall, he'd recover with little to no injury.
Uncertainty flooded over him and he took a small step back, but that glimmer caught his eye again and he instantly regained confidence. He bolted forward without warning and pushed off the edge with every muscle he could muster. Limbs then splayed to the front and back as he soared and for a very brief moment, Icarus felt as though he was truly flying!
But like all fairy tales, that adrenaline came to an end, and his paws quickly met ground. He stumbled a bit, but caught his footing, soon trotting himself into a stop. Jerolik came running up to meet him.
"I... I don't understand. Shouldn't they work?" Icarus asked, looking over the wings.
"I didn't see them flapping. But even then, they didn't do much to slow your fall any."
They weren't flapping? That's right... Birds generally flapped their wings, didn't they. Icarus looked to his paws a moment and then sighed. There was nothing on this world that could give him that much mobility with such a... a toy. His shoulders drooped.
"Thank you, Jerol... For at least giving me some hope that it were possible to fly. I can see now that this isn't meant to be."
"Icarus...?"
Icarus did his best to smile and lifted a paw to touch Jerol's arm. No words were exchanged, but the point was taken, at least. No words needed to be said. Jerol simply nodded after a moment and gently patted Icarus' shoulder. "If you need anything else, don't be afraid to come find me. You know where I'll be." he offered. "Oh!" Jerol turned and retrieved a small pouch from his make-shift home. "And... take this. Your sister might appreciate it at least..."
Icarus picked up the scent of berries in the pouch, and judging by the size, it was a decent amount of them. "Thank you, friend..." he offered and took the pouch before heading back to his own home.
Halfway between the runes and home, Icarus took a moment to rest and look up and the slowly darkening sky beside a lone standing tree. Green eyes watched as stars began to slowly wake and glitter up the heavens.
"I tried..." he eventually croaked. "I'm sorry it didn't work this time, but I did try. All I wanted was to run with you again. I figured flying would be of the same..." he wavered as he took a quick glimpse over his wings. His gaze then shifted to his paws where he found and plucked a pebble from the ground. Beside him was a mound of earth piled under the tree with small pebbles lining it. Each pebble represented a day since she had passed. Days she had been remembered... He added another to the row that had accumulated thus far.
He was silent a moment, before his figure steeled.
"It just takes time..." came a faint whisper to his heart. And that was all he needed to hear. Today was just not his day to make this work. He'd have to think on this more. Tweak his idea and make it work in time. Until then, he'd wear these wings him and his human friend had accomplished. They would serve as a reminder. A goal. Of failures past and hopes for the future.
"Thank you. I will fly with you, one day..." he promised and rose to his paws. His tail gave a flick as he puffed up his chest, smiling upon the grave with renewed confidence. "I will see you tomorrow, mother..."
((*Just to verify: The glimmers and shimmers he keeps seeing are purely from his imagination. His longing to be able to spend time with his mother again has made it easy for his mind to believe that her spirit likes to flit around him wherever he goes. This is not a legitimate spirit (unless a shop mod wants to make her into one for future plots/metas, then I'm perfectly fine with this). This is merely a fabrication of his thoughts. As for the "feather fusing" I imagined Icarus using the Heat Shanak and was heating the metal along the edge enough to soften the metal and slip a feather into it so it would fuse and be held in place without the risk of losing feathers just by leisurely walking about.*))
Username: As Told By Ginger Corleo Name: Icarus Shanak: Electro
What is it like to fly? To have the wind soaring across your back or better yet to have lightning strikes streaking by you in mid-flight. That raw unharnassed electricity dancing about you in its own choreographed dance, just waiting to have its raw potential used.
Icarus was watching patiently as storm clouds began to roll across the flatlands at the edge of the old city ruins. Ever since he was a young child he had been impressed with the sheer raw power of a lightning storm. He watched patiently waiting for the right moment to slip away from the small settlement that he and his family had called home for the past few years on the edge of Rekkadar.
The corleo saw his opportunity and slinked away to the edge of the city. He slipped inside a deteriorating building and crossed to the back corner where there was a large heap covered by a handcrafted blanket, that he had acquired from a wandering corleo of the S'hurrel pride. He pulled the blanket from its place atop the pile with a large swipe of his paw. He hadn't realize he had been holding his breath but he let it out as soon as he saw his wings lay there untouched by anyone else. He quickly got to work, making sure that all of his perfectly placed feathers were still attached.
Icarus had come across the curious object one day when he was exploring the old ruins. He was mainly just scavenging for any old pottery that could be used as tableware but ever since he had discovered those wings, it was all he could think about. They weren't completely intact when he found them, in fact he had to hunt down some birds to replace many of the feathers but he was determined to glide through a storm and feel the electircty dancing through the air.
Attaching the feathers proved to be quite difficult though. He couldn't tell how they had originally been attached so he had needed to get creative with attaching them. He had spent many hours in his human form working to attach the feathers when it finally hit him on how to attach them. Icarus retrieved his knife and began to push the feathers through with the tip of the blade until they were wedged in place. He remembered feeling quite stupid for not thinking of it sooner.
He slipped himself into the wings and fumbled with tying the knot across his belly. After several minutes of failing at tying the knot, he finally accomplished his task. Icarus poked his head out the door to make sure the street was clear and much to his relief it was. He sprinted out of the building and out of the city. The storm was fast approaching now and he needed to get to a high point that he could launch himself from.
The corleo found a tall tree on the edge of the flatlands and scrambled up it just as rain started to pound down on top of him. His mane soon flatened to his body and he began to worry that his beautiful feathers that he had worked so hard to attach would fall out. He began to grow impatient as he waited for the heart of the storm to reach him, where the winds would be raging and the lightning would be at its full force.
"Here we go." Icarus mumbled to himself before leaping from the tree.
For a brief moment he really felt as if he was flying. He could feel the static energy in the air around him. He felt on top of the world, until he realized he was quickly approaching the ground.
No! Don't fall! Fly, fly!
All to soon his feet thumped loudly against the ground. The lightning splashed around him, leaving blackened scarred earth around him. Feeling defeated Icarus began to walk slowly back to his home. Everything had been for nothing. He hadn't really flown, just jumped from a tree with wings strapped to his back. He had hoped he would have at least attracted lightning with the giant metal rods hanging off his back.
As he walked back to the city defeated, his adrenaline had all but worn off. The rain and cold wind were making him shiver and he knew he was probably going to get sick now. His day just kept getting worst. Right on the edge of the city, he was prepared to throw his wings onto the ground and forget about them for good, when there was a loud crack.
Icarus shook as he felt a shock pass from his wings and into his body. He felt his heart stop as it skipped a few beats. The tree above him, splintered into a million pieces as he continued to feel the course of electricity pump through his body. Ironically he felt the most alive he had ever been, even though his heart had stopped beating for a few moment he continued to feel everything. What he imagined came no where near the real thing. After the shock passed his whole body felt numb and his wings were hot as he leaned against the splintered tree. His wings must have touched the tree just as it had been struck by lightning causing it to shock him as well. The corleo wandered back into the city and into his home where his family was waiting for him.
"And where exactly have you been? What are those things? Why is your fur standing in all directions? His father inquired.
Icarus stared up at his father with a lazy smile on his face. "Have you ever felt raw power?"
((So I was kind of thinking along the lines of dear old Benjamin Franklin and his kite with this.))
So it was with Icarus on that day – the day when his world was changed forever.
~*~
He is still considered quite young, despite his full mane, and most know him to be a sort of free spirit -- never content to rest in one place for too long. His soul longs for open skies, for vast plains to run over and new places to explore. It is not great surprise, then, that when the humans crash upon the shores of Dar-Vatta that Icarus is one of the first Corleo to the scene, eager to learn more about these strange, fur-less, spider-paws.
It's difficult, at first, to cross the language barrier, and there are a number of embarrassing slips of the tongue from both parties, but his own persistence, and stubbornness, pay off in the end. After only a few weeks of hard work he's managed to learn a surprising amount of the human vocabulary. It's not perfect, by any means, and there are still moments where he finds himself at a loss to properly translate his own words into the thick-tongued, halting, speech of these strange new people.
One human, in particular helps the process rather nicely. A sort of rivalry is formed between them, two young males, though all in good sport. Mostly.
He doesn't think Decan has entirely forgiven him for the feather-tarring trick he'd pulled a few weeks back. In retaliation the young human had promised he'd pay him back by showing him up in a hunting competition. They'd decided on a rare, natural, inhabitant of the lands and Icarus, being a Corleo and thus confident in his own greater strength than the human, had readily agreed. He'd show Decan a thing or two about hunting.
By now, the two are fast friends, often passing quick tongue-in-cheek remarks (some of which are lost in translation) as they happen upon one another during their hunt.
At least, this is how they spend the better part of two days, with a chill just beginning to n** at the air, flocks of great birds often whirring overhead as they head south for their winter migration. Icarus often watches them pass in the golden light of morning and dusk, wondering what if his newfound friend does the same.
The track of their quarry takes them closer and closer to the Lotus, but it's not until he spies the dome of it, in the distance, that a darkness settles inside his heart and quickens his step. Decan is faster than he'd given the two-legger credit for, and Icarus curses his arrogance as he rushes to catch up. He can't afford to lose after making those comments about how the human would, once more, have to bow to his obvious superiority. Icarus' pride does not allow him to imagine what Decan's face might be like, smug and gloating.
So he rushes on, even through the dusk, until he pauses, suddenly, at the perimeter of the forbidden zone. His eyes, sharp even in the dark, scan the earth for signs of a trail, some alternate path – but the only path that lies before him is the unmistakable print of hooves and boots, the latter more fresh.
Doesn't Decan realize what this place is? It had clearly been explained to the humans that the air in this area is fatal, and Icarus' heart suddenly slams into his chest as he rushes to higher ground and stops, aghast, as he stares down at the sight before him.
There, in the distance, not quite yet within the mist, he spots the slight form of a young man moving unmistakably closer to the mist.
“Decan, no...”
Had his taunts, his tricks, his playful, meaningless, pranks had a greater effect than he'd realized? Is Decan doing this out of a sense of pride and anger? Or has he really forgotten the risk? Icarus' mind feels thick and slow, even as the blood pounds in his ears like the heavy blows of a drum. He rushes forward a few feet and stops, suddenly, wavering. A low sound of distress escapes him, and then he roars, hoping the sound might reach his friend – his only real friend who he has had in such a long time – and rushes forward. He will pay the consequences, should there be any.
In the end, it makes no real difference.
He doesn't remember much of the events past that point, only vague half-images of memory and sensation. He remembers the Harbinger. Decan's pale, drawn, face contorted with pain and tears and a horrible, terrible sense of confusion and loss, and the low, deep, keening which came from his throat seemingly with a will of its own.
He remembers shouting when his spells hadn't worked, and the numbing absoluteness that had filled him, afterward, as Decan had looked up at him, somehow peaceful – which had been far worse than the drawn expression of his pain – and smiled.
Then, nothing.
He'd had no choice but to fall into the darkness as it consumed him. Resisting it had been futile, and in some ways he hadn't wanted to – not then. What was the point?
But there had been one thing he'd been able to take out of all of it, besides the painful memories, with which to remember Decan by. It was the strange metallic wings they'd found with him, tied to his back. Some relic he must have discovered while passing through the ruins on their hunt – and the scarf, the one Icarus' young friend had always been so fond of. The feathers he'd gathered, later, from the quarry he'd eventually found, and killed, as a closure to their story.
