Logs:Between Siblings - Revision history

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2011-11-10T23:06:09Z

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Satiet: Created page with "{{ Log | who = E'gin{{!}}Vysravth, Iolene{{!}}Ysavaeth | where = | what = Vysravth and Ysavaeth share a sleepy night time chat. | when = Day 22, Month 12, Turn 26, night | gamed..."

2011-10-08T16:33:12Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = E'gin{{!}}Vysravth, Iolene{{!}}Ysavaeth | where = | what = Vysravth and Ysavaeth share a sleepy night time chat. | when = Day 22, Month 12, Turn 26, night | gamed..."

New page

{{ Log
| who = E'gin{{!}}Vysravth, Iolene{{!}}Ysavaeth
| where =
| what = Vysravth and Ysavaeth share a sleepy night time chat.
| when = Day 22, Month 12, Turn 26, night
| gamedate = 2011.10.07
| quote = << I thought he would be happy. >>
| weather =
| categories = General
| mentions =
| icons = iolene.jpg, e'gin.jpg
| log = Dragon> To Ysavaeth, Vysravth enters your space with just a wiff of rust brought in on a humid wind. An oppressive ripples of heat mask the illusion behind. <<How is yours? Well I hope.>>

Dragon> There's somnolent notes in Ysavaeth's touch as the wiff of rust rouses her from sleep. A soap bubble lifts from a draconic snore interrupted, and then the sense of a yawn reverberates in the languid ripple of that humid wind sent back. Somewhere, the Reaches' youngest queen stretches and awakens. << Mmmmm, >> is the guttural sounds of a good sleep completed. Right now, at this moment, there's a vulnerability to the young dragon as she tests the touch sent to her: << Vysravth? >> (Ysavaeth to Vysravth)

Dragon> To Ysavaeth, Vysravth is softer, too, tonight, but his voice is as gruff as always, low and rumbling, << Yes, Ysavaeth. Sorry to wake you. >> There is a momentarily silence, as night settles, fireflies flickering in his voice, << Go back to sleep. We can talk when you're awake. >>

Dragon> The haze persists. She's awake and yet not, but cognizant of the brown's presence in the vicinity of her mind. In this, she's gracious, << No, please, >> even if those typically silken thoughts are blurred at this time. The fireflies that flicker in his mind are given renewed life with more added to their number, a careless sprinkling that then shoot up into an inky sky to create twinkling stars. << What would you speak of, brother? >> (Ysavaeth to Vysravth)

Dragon> To Ysavaeth, Vysravth colors the night sky with constellations that E'gin has taught him, << They are going to take us to their island. These are their stars. >> The lack of sound echos across the darkness. << His feelings - He is so conflicted about it. I thought he would be happy. >>

Dragon> If she's displeased that this is the first she's hearing of it, Ysavaeth shows very little of it except in the flare of the sun somewhere way up in that inky sky; somewhere on the other side of the planet even. It's brief. It's minute. But for the observant, it's there. Then there's a little more wakefulness, a delight not altogether feigned, if initially forced, that sets her set of remnant fireflies dancing. << I have heard. Why is it he isn't happy? It might bring some closure for that part of his life. I hope-, >> here, the young queen falters, << I hope it will for Iolene. >> (Ysavaeth to Vysravth)

Dragon> The brown is quiet for a moment, enjoying the fireflies show, << I suppose he beleived he already had closer. >> The pungent smell of decay covered by salt water leaves a sweet taste in the air, << Or perhaps, he's just been too driven to think about the past, and now he is confronted with it. >> There is a slight hestitation from Vysravth to share more, << It will be closure for her, Ysa, they may seem conflicted but they are ours. >> A pause. << She loves you. >> (Vysravth to Ysavaeth)

Dragon> There's a pause. << Yes. >> She agrees then lapses into silence, but a companionable one.'. (Ysavaeth to Vysravth)

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-| icons = iolene.jpg, e'gin.jpg
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-| log = Dragon> To Ysavaeth, Vysravth enters your space with just a wiff of rust brought in on a humid wind. An oppressive ripples of heat mask the illusion behind. <<How is yours? Well I hope.>>
+| log = Dragon> To Ysavaeth, Vysravth enters your space with just a wiff of rust brought in on a humid wind. An oppressive ripples of heat mask the illusion behind. << How is yours? Well I hope. >>
 Dragon> There's somnolent notes in Ysavaeth's touch as the wiff of rust rouses her from sleep. A soap bubble lifts from a draconic snore interrupted, and then the sense of a yawn reverberates in the languid ripple of that humid wind sent back. Somewhere, the Reaches' youngest queen stretches and awakens. << Mmmmm, >> is the guttural sounds of a good sleep completed. Right now, at this moment, there's a vulnerability to the young dragon as she tests the touch sent to her: << Vysravth? >> (Ysavaeth to Vysravth)