Welcome to the journal of Ora, the Llithe, played by djoy.



Please do not post in this thread unless you have permission from djoy.

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Welcome

This journal is meant to follow the growth and life of Ora, my A Thousand Gardens faerie character. All information on the world's setting and additional characters of the Gardens can be found on the Thousand Gardens main thread. One day, if I find out how to make a clickable link, I'll link that thread here.

Rules

Rules, rules, rules... why so many rules?

Well the rules here are: please don't post if you're not playing a character in the Gardens. Enjoy your time perusing this thread.

Thend.

Setting

The Beginning

Just behind the mirror, just out of your glance, lies a hidden glowing place where a thousand gardens flourish, safeguarding a fairy species called the Llithe. The Llithe are small, fragile peaceful winged creatures made of light and magic, and spend their time caring and attending to their beautiful garden.

However, soon the Llithe begin to notice shadows in their garden.. shadows bourne by the Whisperers. The Whisperers are dark fairies cast away from their home, and they seek brightness and light, and the brilliance of the Thousand Gardens caught the attention of their inky eyes. And so they stole into the garden one by one, each slowly consuming the light of the garden into starless shadows that gives them comfort.

Soon, the Llithe became aware of the withering flowers in the mysterious shadows, and the Whisperers of the glare in the sun. It will soon be a matter of time before the two faerie families are locked in a struggle that will change the face of the Thousand Gardens for all time.

The Llithe

The Llithe are small, fragile, winged faeries made of light and magic, who have dwelled in the Thousand Gardens since time immemorial. Each of them are distinctive, and have their own unique skills. They are blessed with their skills when they reach young adulthood, and soon after, they begin to transform into full adults. Llithe skills are not exchangeable without a special potion. Skills also tend to influence the Llithe physically (it will be reflected in their artwork) and mentally (should be reflected in your RP).

Some Llithe have magical powers based on their skills, and some do not. There are some rare Llithe that have powerful Illuminae magic that transcends their skills, but so far, they are unknown to us.

The Llithe are peaceful, sociable creatures but are suspicious and afraid of the Whisperers.

The Whisperers

The Whisperers are dark-winged faeries who were banished from their homeland for unknown reasons. Like the Llithe, each Whisperer has a distinct skill and some have magical powers. They are similar to the Llithe, in that they also go through two stages before reaching adulthood.

The Whisperers are more comfortable in the shadows and dark, but would not object to going into the sunlight. Though often perceived to be gloomy and grim, the Whisperers are kind folk who loves peace just like any other. They just happen to be introverted and shy. Some also enjoy pranks and jokes.

There are, however, powerful and evil Whisperers who were blessed with the power of Shadow Magic, bent on destroying all that is brilliant and beautiful. Fortunately, they are yet to be found in the Thousand Gardens. But those in the Gardens know about the threat of those with Shadow Magic, and are wary of these faeries.

The Spirits

The Spirits are the wandering apparitions of the Garden. They are not faeries but are separate entities in the garden, and they form part of the life in the Garden itself. Some of the voices are soft and dwindle away, while others become strong and have distinct personalities. All of them have names.

There are numerous Spirits, and new ones surface from time to time, but no one knows where they come from or where they are heading. The Spirits can interact with the Llithe and the Whisperers as long as they can get their attention. Some more powerful fae can see them, while the majority can't until they make themselves known or get a faerie's
attention.

The Spirits do not have skills or special powers.

However, some Spirits strive to make themselves known and in time, they may develop such a distinct personality that they become a real Llithe or Whisperer. No one knows how this happens, and such occurences are very rare.

Ora's Profile

Name: Ora
Race: Llithe
Gender: Female
Hair: Long, past her back, a golden blond and generally in a windblown tendril-like state.
Eyes: Vibrant yellow
General appearance: Ora's appearance is characterized by the color gold and her love for nature. She usually adorns tan or leather clothing. More on Ora's personality as the story progresses.....

Timeline

~10 Apr 2007~ Ora's egg appears in the garden
~11 Apr 2007~ Ora hatches
~20 Apr 2007~ Dalia gives Ora a Messenger Moth, Lear

Others in the Gardens

NPCs:
Caer, Llithe of Swanfeather
Dawnsong, Llithe of Bellsong
Destine, Whisperer of Silhouettedeep
Dalia, the Fateseer



Llithes:
Ora, Windhunter


Whisperers:
Lazuli, Willowtear

Kyrylo Eneas, Dazzlelove

Oerttena, Dreamhealer

Ora's Belongings

Dalia assigned a Messenger Moth to Ora upon her birth, who Ora named Lear.

Ora's Home

Images of Ora


First, there was a glowing golden egg.



Then Ora was born, and became a young adult.

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Flatsale prompt

Ora's debut was during the Thousand Gardens flatsale, where the following prompt was given:

The Oracle has called on you and has requested your presence at her home, which is at the top of the tallest tree in the Gardens. It is a long journey, and you are met with some kind of resistance on the way that makes you late. Oh no! The Oracle loves promptness, and despises tardiness. What do you do?

Here's the answer:

A gust of wind rustled some dry leaves piled next to Ora’s satchel, causing a few to take flight and graze her face and hair. She snapped open her eyes abruptly and drew in a sharp breath, swiveling her head side to side to check her surroundings. She then looked straight up at a few wisps of golden hair strewn across her forehead, giving her a cross-eyed look, and brushed her hand over the top of her head. Momentarily studying the crumbly leaves that she had collected from her hair, she chuckled to herself, tossing the leaves that had awoken her into the air and watched them flit away with the breeze.

She sighed. Her back was slightly sore after napping in a sitting position, propped up against this immense, coniferous looking tree. She motivated herself to stand thinking maybe nature woke her just now because something magnificent was about to happen. As far as she was concerned, something sensational had to happen to make it worth the days of weary travel she had put into just getting this deep into the garden. Truth be told, Ora had stopped to rest not entirely because of her fatigued physical state, but also to calm the nervous butterflies that were accumulating in her stomach. Today, at sundown, she was to meet the Oracle who had mysteriously summoned her presence exactly one week prior. She had taken special care to arrive early to the Oracle’s sacred tree, knowing how important and rare this occasion was. After a long, solitary journey she now found herself looking upward, mouth agape, admiring the ancient enormity of the tree’s base and pondering the strange, other-wordly sensation that came upon her just looking at it.

“Ugh… I hate this part,” she grumbled to herself as she secured her leather satchel to her back and gently began to glide upward flitting her wings. Ora hated heights.

To an outsider her ascension path might have seemed haphazard, as she elevated in a zig zag pattern always assuring that a large branch was immediately below her just in case she should fall for some improbable reason… After half an hour of steady ascent Ora decided to take a break and softly lowered herself to sit on a sturdy branch, legs dangling while she absently studied the unique patterns in the bark, her subconscious nervously imagining what might await her at the top. She wiped her brow and brushed her slightly saturated bangs off her forehead, whispering to herself an age-old adage that one of her dearest friends always said in times of worry, “Madve jival.” It was in a language unknown to her, and supposedly meant something to the effect of “destiny takes care of me.” Now more than ever Ora felt as though she were in the hands of destiny, but to avoid further reflection on the subject she closed her eyes briefly, opened them again, and sprung to her feet hovering over the branch where she had sat.

Something wasn’t right. When she attempted to fly upward she felt her own foot tugged downward, and she remained stalled in mid-air. Her face contorted into a baffled expression, and she glanced downward to see a green moss-like vine binding her left foot to the tree branch. Ora whimpered and futilely attempted to kick herself free, realizing that the vine seemed to gradually slither and tighten its grip, even advancing up her leg. She fought the temptation to simply scream for help, knowing that this far into the garden no fae could possibly hear her, and hastily wracked her brain for some sort of solution. Her yellow eyes opened wide when she remembered that they day she left, her friend Pearle had loaned her one of her most prized possessions, a small ivory-handled drop-knife. Her hand immediately sprang to the back portion of her belt and within moments she was grasping the blade in her hand, sizing up the vine for a place to strike. Ora grunted as she bent over past her foot and slashed the vine into two writhing pieces. She wasn’t prepared to free herself so quickly and felt herself being catapulted by her own force away from the tree’s trunk, pine needles scraping her limbs as she plummeted, wings uselessly flapping against the inertia that propelled her down.

When Ora awoke the sky was no longer blue, but a solemn magenta color. It was dusk. She briefly contemplated the crisp pine smell in the air, then held her hand to her throbbing head and noticed the sting of a few minor scratches on her skin. Immediately recalling the frightening vine incident and subsequent fall, she realized that she had luckily landed some thirty feet below in what seemed to be an abandoned nest for a large bird of prey. The freakish incident and her aching body were not her primary concerns, however, as she knew by the sky’s coloration that sunset had occurred perhaps some twenty minutes ago.

Ora scrambled out of the nest, stood upright and said in a loud, strong voice, “Okay Madve jival, don’t fail me now….” Her fear of heights was going to have to look the other way while she propelled herself as quickly as possible to the top. A few silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she simply ignored how terrified she was, concentrating on the steady flicker of her wings and rehearsing excuses in her mind to give to the Oracle.

Ora’s heart skipped a beat as she deciphered through the musky darkness a tiny ornately designed cabin that blended almost indistinguishably with the tree’s top portion. She tried to land as silently as possible before the Oracle’s majestic front door, hoping to take a few moments to collect herself before knocking. Unexpectedly, the moment her foot touched the tiny porch floorboard, the front door creaked open. Ora bit her lower lip and smoothed her frazzled hair with one hand while nervously straightening her skirt with the other. The door was now wide open, but no one could be seen inside the cabin.

“Ahm… hello?” Ora stepped cautiously inside and noticed a young fae with piercing violet eyes turn to look at her. It seemed she was nonchalantly hanging something over the fireplace, but when her eyes fixed on Ora they lost their gentle tone and took on a redder hue.

“You’re late,” she stated flatly.

Ora was certain that this fae was the Oracle despite her young appearance. Trying to keep her composure she first looked down at the wooden floor, then looked directly at the violet-eyed girl and began to explain, “I…I’ve never been this far from my home before and took the wrong path the day before last…” Although she knew what was going to happen, Ora could not bear admitting that her childish fear of heights had caused her to ascend the tree in such an unusual manner. And just as expected, Ora’s skin and body in general began acquiring a brilliant golden glow, giving her a truly captivating and mesmerizing appearance, a sort of unique deific beauty. She felt ashamed for having even attempted to fabricate a convoluted story to excuse her tardiness, and abandoned her story midway, letting her words trail off into awkward silence. It was already too late. Years had passed since she lad last attempted to tell a lie, and the consequence was always the same. Somehow, since Ora was a child, when she was around or participated in deception, her entire presence illuminated into a golden refulgence. A spectacular sight to see, if one did not know the cause of this strange metamorphosis it was easy to become captivated in her beauty, but those closest to Ora knew that it is impossible to lie or be lied to in her presence. Ora generally considered this unique quality as a curse, perhaps now more than ever, and she abashedly shifted her weight from one leg to the other while waiting for some sort of response from the violet-eyed girl.

The Oracle smiled almost slyly, as if she knew all along. It was as though she had planned this sequence of events. As though it were the second time she had lived this very moment.

Ora felt surprisingly comforted by the Oracle’s smirk, and before she could even ask, the violet-eyed girl replied, “Name’s Dalia.”

The egg appears

Feathery clouds dotted the mid-day sky and they drifted lightly by, occasionally passing in front of the vibrant sun and dotting the landscape with patches of light and shade.

The grass emitted a pleasant warmth to the touch, and the landscape was decorated with fleeting flashes of violet, azure, and yellow tiny wings, as butterflies capriciously dodged in unpredictable patterns. It was fitting that such a picturesque, almost storybook spring afternoon would be the setting for the events to occur.

Amongst the hum of drifting insects searching for pollen, occasional cicada-like chirps, and fleeting bird songs, there was a gentle wind concentrated on just one single space, perhaps only 10 cm in diameter. The wind momentarily transformed into a sort of gust, the kind only seen on a dusky autumn day when dead leaves are thrust to and fro. But this gust of wind, this draft, curiously formed a sort of miniature micro burst in the center of the garden, slightly plastering the grass below it into a circular pattern, a sort of nest to receive whatever the wind dictated.

The phenomenon created a little pocket of blurred space, the way an image is blurred when looking through a piece of thick, antique glass. The space appeared to pulsate, making waves of distorted blurriness for perhaps only 15 seconds, when suddenly through the blur a tiny yellow glowing bud could be identified. The bud expanded into a tiny precious egg, newly formed and glowing with youth, it drifted downward at an unnaturally slow pace, as though some motherly force were gently setting it down.

Seemingly from nowhere a pair of noble yet clumsy wings spread open for the first time, emerging from the back of the egg. They flapped lazily a few times then returned to their original position to rest, and the new glowing egg lay still in its nest of fresh grass.

The intermittent clouds had reduced in number and the blue sky now dominated the sky, the sun's blinding rays filling the garden. The egg seemed to emit a sense of contentment basking in the sun for the first time, waiting patiently to be discovered, not in any hurry to be taken from its peaceful haven.

The egg hatches

Each egg flapped its wings -- some more wildly than others (as in the golden egg's case) -- as the faeries within began to emerge from the beautiful shells in which they were born and developed.

And from each egg, a lovely creature would emerge...

It seemed the golden egg in Dawnsong's hand wanted to be birthed first, as it twitched erratically, its feathery wings flapping as if it were already ready to fly. This one would be a bit more wild than the others, but it seemed she had an even closer connection with nature than the other fae being born around her.

Though up until now she had felt a comforting warmth and contentment with the state she was in, Ora knew it was time to leave her protective surroundings. Breaking free to her seemed simple, like pretending to struggle with someone much weaker than herself, or completing an arduous yet elementary task. She almost enjoyed the primal thrashing required to completely enter this new world...

Once emerging from the egg Ora opened her eyes and her yellow irises gleamed brightly as her pupils narrowed to pinpoints, taking in the sun's rays for the first time. Her head swiveled about quickly, like a wary feline, as she gathered her bearings and fully became aware of what had taken place.

She smiled, kind of smirked, for the first time and noticeably relaxed once she realized she was in the company of others who seemed to be of her race. She fixed her eyes on dawnsong.... and felt strangely odd, as though the need to speak overwhelmed her yet she was not sure where the words should come from.

She stammered a bit, "Eee... mmm... I... Who are you?"

Receiving Lear

A wide smile spread across Ora's face upon seeing Dalia's precious gift, a bright yellow moth that seemed to glide rather than haphazardly dash about like some of its kind. It landed on her shoulder, and Ora turned her head to contemplate the youngling, and blurt out, "Lear."

Stating her new companion's name broke her quiet demeanor thus far, surely taking some by surprise who had nearly forgotten about her presence. It wasn't that Ora was shy, it was something else.... something a bit primal, like the way a leopard quietly studies its surroundings perched from a tree. She felt no obligation to speak, or give explanations for herself, but rather she enjoyed soaking in the nature of these gardens and felt an itching to explore, perhaps to find a home for herself.

She studied those around her for the first time paying attention to detail, noticing the dark maroon one, another of a golden color a bit less resplendent than her own, as though an almost imperceptible cloud of grey accompanied him. There were others, who seemed a bit more mature, and Ora looked the Oracle in the eye for the first time... subconsciously recognizing the importance of her presence and of the tour they would soon be embarking on.

Preparing for the Tour

Ora calmly watched as Dalia flitted away, not extending any sort of farewell but silently eager to see her again someday, when the Oracle deemed the time to be right.

Suddenly Ora stretched her wingspan out to it's fullest, enveloping her surroundings in a yellow-gold display, and shot up into the air, as though test-driving her flying skills for the first time. It was as though she had suddenly snapped into full awareness since her birth, and she looked at all present and warmly smiled.

"Oerttena, Kyrylo, Destine," she said, using their names for the first time, "It's been a pleasure... let's enjoy our new birth into these gardens which seem to feel so ancient, and not waste any more time!" She looked at Dawnsong with an antsy furrow in her brow, expressing without words her desire to explore, then looked back at a tree a few meters from where she hovered, noticing unnatural blue highlights that stuck out behind it's trunk.

Not wanting to be the cause of further angst for Lazuli, Ora gently hovered in his general direction, only looking at the tree from her peripheral vision. She decided to refrain from using his name, instead looking in his general direction and just simply stating in a low voice, so the others wouldn't hear, "Don't worry, I'll talk to Dawnsong as we go, you just have to follow...." hoping this would ease his fear of the social burden the tour might bring upon him.