Welcome to the journal of Whisperer Destine of Sillhouettedeep, played by panthas.

(cert goes here)

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

Click here to visit A Thousand Gardens' shop thread.

Welcome

Rules

Setting

Destine, Whisperer of Silhouettedeep

Timeline

Relationships

Tristan

Destine's pet butterfly, given to her upon her arrival in the Gardens.

"...Then, just above them, a butterfly lazily spiraled down to land on Destine's outstretched wrist. The black half of it glistened in the absence of light, and it's other half seemed to change with the colors of the sky.

((Usually the same blue as the sky ))

She brought him close to her face. "Tristan," she said softly and caringly. He moved his wings slowly up and down and then set to flight, toward Ora.

Gifts & Belongings

Destine's Home

...Destine sat on a massive root that jut out of and back into the ground, close to the water. The branches of the willow tree cast shadows on each other, creating an almost undulating back drop for her lithe frame. She sat with her knees brought up to her chest and her hand palm up in front of her...



...This willow tree behind her was not too close to the cave entrance, but closer than any other tree that lined the shores, and at least twice as big. Like the other trees its branches lightly grazed the water's surface, but some of the branches were braided in various fashions -- knotted with shimmering stones, entwined with vines and flowers from all over the Gardens. The tree's branches were so verdant and decorated that they formed a visually inpentrable dome shaped curtain around the tree. The soft glow of phosphorescent plants inside were the only indication that one could pass through...

Images

Reserved

Reserved

Reserved

Reserved

Reserved

NPC Entry

Destine, Whisperer of Silhouettedeep, is a mysterious character who likes to keep to herself. She is friendly enough to those who come to her for advice or to ask questions, but she is painfully shy in large group situations.

Please write a scene in which Destine is invited to the Spring Equinox party, thrown every year by the fae. She receives an invitation in her mailbox, and is hesitant to go. How does she decide to go or not? If she does attend, does she have a good time? If she decides to stay home, what does she do instead? What are her feelings about large groups after this party? Does anyone come by and try to convince her that she should be there?

((Just so you know, I'm working under the assumption that Destine is clairvoyant -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clairvoyent. This works in that she can build elaborate pictures with sights, sounds, smells, tastes and feelings by physically touching an object and concentrating. She can essentially see events from the past and the present, NOT the future. Side effects include physical/mental pain and sickness. The business at the end of my entry isn't that she sees the actual future, it's that she feels the evil intent of the creature -- ie what it desires.))

On the hottest of days in the Thousand Gardens, when drooping flower petals ever so slightly sail on a stale wind and bees listlessly drift among the orchards, the floral brilliance seems almost overwhelming. But, as there are two sides to every coin, the pockets of shadows nestled between the shrubs seem exaggerated as well.

On this particularly steamy spring afternoon, a host of dandelion seeds wafts from a dark crevice between two thorny bushes, carried by what seems to be an invisible hand. Compared to the rest of the garden, the path leading to this crevice is relatively bare, punctuated here and there by flowering weeds. For some of the Lilthe, this is enough to convince them to keep their distance. But for those who have disregarded this as circumstance, they have come to find that this is the dwelling of Destine, Whisperer of Silhouettedeep.

Past the ominous entrance is a clearing, shielded from the direct sunlight by the network of overgrown thorny bushes. The ever-shifting patches of light that penetrate the foliage make the sanctuary seem underwater. Despite the lack of an abundance of light, the glade is soothing and warm; verdant aquamarine grass carpets the ground and a single gnarled willow drapes low, like a queen bowing to her king.

The roots of this willow jut in and out of the ground, as if sometime long ago the tree tried to pull itself free, but gave up. Fortunately for Destine, and any other fae who may call, the roots are covered in furry lichen and make excellent lounges.

Today, Destine rests on her stomach on the biggest of these roots; it points toward the entrance and shoots almost vertically five feet out of the ground before it turns down again and re-enters the earth. At the uppermost bend is a patch of dandelions that never seem to bloom or disappear. It is here that Destine rests her chin on her hand and breathes on the downy seeds, which jump from their home and float toward the entrance, eager to see the full sun for the first time. She expedites their journey with a slight rustle of her wings, which exude a pungent smell of lilacs with every movement. She sighs and lets her eyes close.

*rustle, rustle*

Destine's wings pull her out of unconsciousness before she can herself at the sound of someone near the glade. They flare out and pull her to an almost standing position. Breathing heavily, she hastily rubs her eyes and looks toward the entrance -- expecting either friend or foe. She sees instead an iridescent paper-thin butterfly slowing working its wings up and down. At this, she smiles faintly and relaxes as she moves up to sit on the root. She reaches out toward the butterfly.

As if being called, the butterfly loops its way toward her and lands softly in her palm. After finally coming to rest, it unfolds itself into a small piece of paper. In a passing spot of sunlight, she can make out the glistening calligraphy: "You are invited....." She knows what the rest says without reading it. It's an invitation to the Spring Equinox party.

She examines the invitation closely, and then the feeling comes over her. It nauseates her at first, but she has learned to work through that. She closes her eyes and concentrates, clenching the invitation tightly. She hears the wind rustling the leaves, smells the perfume of the flowers in the garden. A familiar taste envelops her tongue -- it's Dawnsong's tea. Now she can see it. The scene appears like ripples in a pond. A group of Lilthes giggling in the midday sun, their nimble hands quickly folding and releasing prismatic pieces of paper that catch the wind outside and fly to their recipients -- butterflies, dragonflies, bees. Destine can't make out the faces of any of them except Dawnsong. She always envied Dawnsong's carefree acceptance of everything and everyone.

She giggled as she released the same butterfly that Destine had held in her hands only moments before, "But I do hope that Destine comes this year. If she would just come around more, I'm sure we could be great friends. I enjoyed my time with her so much." The image of Dawnsong became clearer and Destine could make out a wistful sadness in her eyes.

"But she's so dark and creepy," a cutting voice noted. The image of Dawnsong faded and was replaced by dark undulating figures. "She should just stay where she is, holed up by herself. She'll just ruin the fun." Derisive laughter. Destine could hear it as if they were standing right behind her. The invitation floated to the ground as she clamped her hands over her ears. Everything she sensed earlier hurt her now. The sun was too painfully bright, the smell of the flowers was sickening, and the sound of laughter brought tears to her eyes.

She violently flaps her wings and ascends to the highest limb in the willow tree. Lukewarm tears roll down her cheeks as she convulses with sobs. She wraps her wings around her; their perfume settles her emotions. She pulls her knees tightly to her chest and leans closer to the tree.

"What should I do?" She sighs. "Why do they say those things about me?" She looks up to the tree, almost expecting an answer. "But Dawnsong, she's different. She cares about me." Destine smiled, abashed, thinking about what she saw Dawnsong say about her.

She waited, ruminating on what she had seen and heard. Slowly she made her way back to ground, wiggling her toes when she reached the carpet grass.

"They don't know me," she said almost boasting. "They don't know anything about me. I'll show them. I'll go to the party and everyone will be amazed that I even showed up." She started to gather some things into a small pouch -- nectars, fruits, etc. "And Dawnsong will welcome me with open arms. And they'll just be jealous." Color finally returned to her face.

By the time she was ready to go, the late afternoon sun shot sideways through the leaves, accentuating the shadows in the divots of the willow tree. She was ready to step out when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned quizzically toward the tree. A shadow?

Guarded, she looked closer. Near the top of the tree, a shadow pulsed like it was alive. Destine was no stranger to the creatures lurking in the shadows -- despite popular belief, very few were dangerous -- but she had never seen anything quite like this before. She could barely make out its glistening ebony surface. She was about to let it be for good, but before she could move, it had whipped around the tree trunk and slid up her leg, around her waist, up her side, and around her neck, to finally come to rest at her ear.

Destine was paralyzed. It all happened too fast for her to be frightened. But what came next was familiar. She felt a cold breeze on her neck. Her vision became dark and muddied. She heard indistinguishable voices, and cringed at the acrid taste of sour berries. She was frightened and alone. She was still in the Thousand Gardens, but something was wrong. A storm had ripped through. The orchards were torn up and lightening still marred the sky. She looked toward the Center Garden and was aghast. The noble tree had been split asunder. Half of it lay on the ground like a dead soldier. She covered her mouth with her hands in shock and took another quick glance around her.

She screamed. Dawnsong lay pale and lifeless at her feet, her tattered wings at the whim of the wind whipping around them.

Destine dropped to her knees, tears flowing freely once again. She opened her eyes and saw her beloved willow tree patiently guarding her. She shook her head back and forth. "No, no! It won't happen like that. You promised it wouldn't happen like that!" she screamed at the tree. In the quickly fading light, it almost looked like the tree was mocking her.

"It won't happen like that, it won't," she repeated to herself. She glared defiantly at where the slithering shadow had been. She turned toward the entrance and the thorny bushes parted for her.

She took flight. "Dawnsong," she whispered. Destine didn't know what to expect that night, but she knew that she had to go to the party. Something was going to happen.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane

Destine lay supine on the luxurious bed of lichen that surrounded the willow tree she called her home, sipping tea and gazing at the moonshine trickling through breaks in the topmost branches.

She was silent, but the lines that washed over her face conveyed deep thought, or that she was on the verge of words, but they never came. But with the introduction of the new fae in the Gardens, she felt that she had a lot of thinking to do.

Tristan had attached himself to the tree just above Destine's head, fanning her slightly with his wings. His antennae twitched vigorously as he read her thoughts.

Your worry far exceeds what's necessary in this situation, Destine.

Destine tilted her head back as to see the now shimmering inky colored butterfly. She looked away and continued not to speak.

The Gardens hold all walks of creatures that are left to their own devices, but that doesn't mean she'll have anything to do with the new fae. She's only set her putrid wings down near this river once before, and she vowed never to come back.

With an uncharacteristic vehemence, Destine sat up and spun around to face Tristan. With a tremor in her voice, she spit her words at him like venom, but spoke softly.

"She said she'd come back when the time was right. Not even you know if she was lying or not. I could feel her -- feel her.......hate." Destine wrapped her arms around herself like as if a chill slithered through the leaves.

You know that she's incapable of doing you harm.

Destine responded in a weary, apologetic tone. "I know, but that gives me little comfort....Good night, Tristan." She crawled toward the bottom of the tree where an empty knot revealed her bed -- an opulent amalgam of thick grasses and fragrant bouquets of budding flowers.

She curled her knees to her chest and draped her wings over her exposed shoulders. She tossed and turned for how long, she couldn't determine, but at some point, she drifted into a restless sleep, somehow convinced by the whispers of the leaves gently caressed by the cool air wafting from the riverbank.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)

Destine's memory of her meeting with Azra was fuzzy at first -- muddled and confusing. But considering that her gift enabled her to almost clearly see visions of the past in her waking hours, while she slept, her vision became as painfully clear as it was when she met the succubine fae.

It had started as an average day along of the banks of the River of Promises. Destine woke to fresh tea followed by a vigorous regimen of calculated figure eights in the sky --- all the while plunging in and out of the caves that marked the Drowned Valley.

The early part of the day she spent making her rounds visiting those who had taken shelter along the banks of the River for the night. Weary travelers, happy couples, ambitious explorers -- fae of all kinds took rest under the wisteria trees. But there was one tree that piqued her curiosity -- a small dilapidated willow so close to the cave entrance that some of its spindly roots crawled into the water and others clung to the rim of the cave, penetrating the cracks that crisscrossed the shear face of the rock.

Destine lovingly caressed the tree's sanguine leaves that were speckled with yellow, a sure sign of sickness. Surely if it stayed rooted where it was, it would have no chance of survival. But as pained as she was to see it, Destine felt that she sometimes had to let the Gardens take their course.

She looked back at the dwarf tree as she waded knee-deep into the River to wash away the fine perspiration that had beaded on her skin. The tree seemed harmless enough in her mind, but she could feel her heart fill with suspicion when she noticed two barren branches protruding from the top of the tree and curling about the sides -- like a predator's mandibles poised for the kill.

Why didn't I notice those before, Destine thought to herself. She shook the thought from her head and leaned down close to the water. She splashed a handful of it on her face -- it was colder than she expected, and the surprise sent shivers down her spine.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)

Destine hoisted herself from the river by her wings, with great effort. On her second try, she rose from the river, glistening water cascading down her back and from the tips of her wings. She expected the water to compound her weight, but still she struggled to gain height. She strained against what felt like something holding her back.

She continued to try to free herself.

Owww!

A sharp pain in her foot drew her attention. Still hovering just barely above the surface of the water, Destine looked down. A black spindly, thorny vine wrapped itself tighter around her ankle. She grimaced as the razor-like protrusions pierced her skin.

The vine looked so fragile, yet provided no slack as it gripped her tighter. She started to pump her wings frantically — the usual lavender scent emitting from her wings soured with panic and fear. The sun was sinking in the sky; the shadows grew long and jagged on the shore, while the river burned like fire from the reflection of the sun.

Destine wanted to cry out, but her throat was dry from the exertion of trying to free herself. The sun glowed red as it hit the horizon, seemingly scorching the riverbanks. The fae desperately scanned the surrounding willows looking for someone, anyone, but the travelers who had been there that morning had all moved on.

Destine had never experienced anything like this in the Gardens, and it chilled her to the core of her being. Just when she thought she could go on no more, the vine tightened more than ever and jerked her down into the water. She struggled hopelessly, but the vine was unrelenting and kept her just beneath the water's surface. She could see the moon rising over the cave entrance; the thrashing water above gave it a marked feline appearance, like a thousand predators' eyes glowering down at her.

She was no less afraid as she lost consciousness.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)

Destine awoke with a start. Curled on her side, she convulsed, spitting up water. Regaining her consciousness, she shot up, eyes wide and scanning the area around her. She was in front of her willow tree on the bank close to the water, which lapped at her bare feet.

She bent down to examine her ankle, which had been the victim in her struggle in the river earlier. Besides a few small scratches, it looked untouched. Destine's hair flew about her face wildly, as if on its own, but her breathing was slowly returning to normal.

Something's wrong, she thought. Things like this don't happen here.

She continued to be on guard. Despite the mild evening that had come up around her, she shivered. A gust of wind whipped through the valley, more like a warning than the reassurance she was used to. And she couldn't be sure, but to Destine, it seemed that the wind blew hardest against the sickly willow tree near on the cave entrance on the other side of the river.

Destine strained to see through the blackness that surrounded the willow. Its branches were buffeted so furiously by the wind that they hit the cave entrance with a sickening slapping sound that resounded throughout the valley. Curiously, Destined noted that the bare branches in the tree that protruded like mandibles were unmoved by the gale-force winds.

But, as suddenly as it had begun, the winds calmed, and a screeching, crackling sound commanded her attention; it came from the languid willow across the way.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)

With a mixture of awe, terror, and disgust, Destine stared unceasingly at the willow tree as it shivered and seemed to fight against the rocks and coarse sand of the riverbanks it had mired itself in. It quickly became obvious that it was not just the wind that had caused the tree to sway so violently. It rocked back and forth, wiggling its roots from the crevices straining to free itself.

Destine had never seen anything like it in the Gardens. She dragged herself, still weak and wet from the incident earlier, to the shelter beneath the boughs of her tree home, but she stayed close enough to the draping branches to be able to keep a wary eye on the undulating tree across the river.

The tree momentarily stood unmoving. Then the talon-like branches that curled around the tree creaked and groaned as they started to straighten out on either side. Destine couldn't take her eyes from it — it was beautifully engrossing, like the graceful sweeps of a ballerina, but jerky and revolting like a reanimated corpse. Cracks opened up along both branches and they bent out this way and that, testing the air around them. All the while, the tree's trunk, which was barely the size of a sapling, seemed to bow out further and further. At first, Destine thought this was the shadows of the night playing tricks, but she soon realized that the trunk of the tree itself was bloating like it was filling up with water. The trunk cracked and strained against the pressure, while the alien branches began to pump up and down.

Destine held her breath. Something bad is going to happen, she thought. Instinctively her hand began to grope at the lichen near the base of her tree, where she slept. The branches began to pump at a furious pace, causing the trunk of the willow tree to bow in and out, as if it were hyperventilating. The two main branches that had steadily been growing while Destine watched slowly rose to their apex once more.

Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)


Suddenly the tree stopped moving altogether, frozen in place. The two main branches jutted out in awkward positions and the trunk of the tree looked malformed and unnatural. Destine leaned forward just enough to peek through the leaves, but quickly realized that she shouldn't have.

At that moment, a shudder ran through the tree, quickly and methodically from the roots barely broken free from the ground, all the way to the tips of the two branches. The bark of the tree then cracked in jagged, jigsaw-like pieces, but stayed in place. The pieces began to shrink, starting with the ones closest to the ground, but the others up higher swiftly followed suit.

The other branches that had draped into the water, which were few and far between, seemed to grow shorter and move higher and back farther. The two mandible-like branches began to change as well. They moved more fluidly, no longer jerkily pumping up and down. A thick, dark lichen spontaneously grew from them, covering almost the totality of the branches. The lichen then started to spew forth from the branches, creating an impenetrable cloak on either side of the tree. Once it touched the ground, it seemed to fluff itself, teeming with sentience.