BORN FOR THIS.

Housing: F-3 Rank: Citizen Ability: Fly up to 1 mile a day. Please read my rules page!

[composedapotheosis]

pyro-latry:

Willow, eternal in her nature, didn’t say much of anything while she was chirped at. Just a bit dumbstruck, she stood and tilted her head one way, then the other. That name was hardly one she knew how to replicate, and for a moment or more, Willow was left just feeling badly for the other. That’s one of those things where it seems downright impolite to mention.

So, she stands in front of the other, tilting her name and giving the symbol a look. It’s pretty, despite her inability to repeat it. Her own tongue is not made for those things. “Do you, um, have a nickname that you like? I don’t like the idea of just being like ‘hey, you’, seems impolite.” 

Realizing her ramblings, Willow looks upon the White Cloak, tilting her head, pigtail flopping to one side. “If you don’t, that’s perfectly fine, I mean. I could help you find one if that’s what you want, but, eh.” She shrugs soon after, looking just a little bit lost on what she’s supposed to do or say for this strange being. 

The White Cloak squinted its eyes, though not out of anything like displeasure or something negative like that. It tilted its head in kind, mimicking Willow, and then turned its gaze downwards towards the ground, where it had traced its name.

It had been offered a nickname before, and at the time, it turned it down. It didn’t think it needed one. It still thought that, but it had learned by now that being given a nickname wasn’t a sign that they were disregarding your actual name. Rather, it tended more to being a friendly gesture.

Even still... the White Cloak didn’t want a nickname so much as a title? The White Cloak kept its gaze downward and chirped out a quiet note: If anything, call me Companion.

[composedapotheosis]

pyro-latry:

@composedapotheosis

She’s a bit baffled by the sight of this other. It’s a strange sort of appearance, though Willow’s been hovering around this city just long enough that she’s no longer plain old startled by the sight, and instead, stops a beat to watch this ethereal being. A beat turns into a few more after a moment or so, and Willow realizes a bit too late that she is most definitely staring with round eyes, trying to make heads or tails of this woman. 

“What’s your name?” Her voice comes abruptly, Willow tripping over her own awe. “You’re, huh, really somethin’.”

What else can she say? If she were more the sort, Willow would be one to ramble, ask a million questions in a breath or two, though, that’s not her style, and is bound to leave this stranger confused and even upset by her presence. So, Willow settles for just one more, for the sake of satisfying some of her curiosity. 

“Sorry if this sounds weird, but what exactly are you? I’ve seen a lot’a stuff, but you’re definitely new.” 

Though the time the White Cloak had spent in the city grew and grew, it still found itself at a loss for how to keep itself busy. They had made no friends (save for the one other Rythulian it once knew here, but they disappeared, much to its disappointment...) and had no goals. There was no desert path to follow, no younglings to guide.

So as it was, it often found itself simply wandering. The same streets and the same buildings, but with a few fun little mix-ups if they wandered through sector 001 that day. They were no longer surprised when people stopped to stare when it sat down for a break, or trailed it, too caught up in the glimmer of its threads to care they were being brought off track.

But the one question it still did not know how to properly answer for the clothless was ‘what’s your name?’ It’s name didn’t have a translation, an English form.

Yet still, it tried. It bowed its head in response for just a moment, before looking up again with a loud, ringing chirp. It’s symbol appeared briefly overhead. That was it’s name. A combination of the glyphs Willow would see and the notes that accompanied it.

It wasn’t the White Cloak’s fault that no one else could repeat it. But just in case, and to answer the follow-up question (though it wouldn’t help Willow understand, sorry Willow) it traced the same symbol on the ground with its pointed foot. With a few small taps of the concrete after for good measure, as if to say that’s what I am!

[composedapotheosis]

luna-digitale:

@composedapotheosis liked for a starter … A cloack. There was a cloack, right there. For a moment, she even wondered if someone had put a mannequin in the middle of the city, put a cloack on it, and just left there. … But for what reason? Luna touched it gently – and found out it wasn’t just a cape abandoned in the middle of nothing.

“Ah! I am sorry, for a moment I thought…!”

The White Cloak had allowed them a brief moment of rest. They’d stepped off to the side, so as to not block anyone’s movement, and closed their eyes. They were no longer as wary of humans (and other non-Rythulians) as they used to be, so they were not afraid to stand here and relax...

...until they felt someone touch them. Their eyes shot open and they took a quick step away from whoever it was. Too quick, and they stumbled, falling backwards onto the pavement with an alarmed chirp.

Very hastily did they pick themselves up again, brushing off their cloak and facing the other, another chirping note emanating from them, sounding much different than the previous: Why??

[composedapotheosis]

Whoops, I kind of let activity die down on this account...like a lot... so maybe I’ll try to fix that. Here’s an RP ad for the White Cloak, who’s been here a little while but still keeps to themselves but wants a companion? Maybe?

Capped at 4.

[composedapotheosis]

Every step they took out into the open could very well be there last. That thought had been burned into the back of their mind all week. They could see it sometimes, flying barely in their peripheral, or it could hear it’s chilling roars from the skies above. Somehow, a Guardian had found its way to this city. That shouldn’t have been possible, but... then again, neither should them showing up in this city be possible.

The presence of the terrifying war machines that would tear its cloth from its body if given the chance lorded over the White Cloak. They made quick dashes to and from the shadows, from the cover of one building to the next. It can’t fit in tight places, nor could it see them if they were sufficiently hidden.

Normal things were enough to frighten them at this point, things like street lights suddenly turning on (the Guardians used light to track; get caught in it, and you are as good as dead, or close to it) and construction noises made the White Cloak take mad dashes for any cover it could find. Several times this caused a bit of commotion as it bumped into random passersby.

Why they didn’t understand the danger they could possibly be in was beyond the White Cloak. It didn’t occur to them that perhaps most people simply didn’t see it most of the time.

[composedapotheosis]

thewitchmagilou:

“No, no, not at all.”

The only thing she’d ever ride in the air anywhere was going to be her guardian. Besides, stairs were a thing. A cursed thing, but a thing.

“I’m asking you to take these flyers and drop them all over the city from a high spot~! I’ll drop them from the top floor of an apartment building too~”

Thankfully she didn’t mention that she rode a guardian out loud. Guardians, as the White Cloak knew them, were terrible war machines; hunters, with one task: killing other Rythulians. 

The White Cloak stared at them and responded, not making any motion to move from where it stood: I see no reason to help you. Not without more information.

This clothless hadn’t done anything to make the White Cloak owe them any favours, and it only had a mile of flight per day. It didn’t want to waste that.

[haemoneiron]

Gossamer;

[composedapotheosis]

haemoneiron:

She didn’t even have time to start saying ‘I don’t understand you’ before she realised that of course, she did understand them. She started walking towards the largest window facing out onto the street.

“Followed huh.” 

Taking a hanging cord she closed the blinds, not that it was particularly easy to see through the cluttered windows anyway. “Why? By what?”

Not seeing anything immediately outside she turned back to her guest. “You don’t have to leave, but I’m not claiming this is a sanctuary; I’m not exactly a neighbourhood favourite.” 

The White Cloak felt safer when the blinds were closed, even if just a  little bit. It allowed itself to relax; though it didn’t feel 100% comfortable in this strangers presence, they didn’t appear to be out to get them. That was an improvement.

It held out an arm to spread out its cloak, letting it glow and flutter as if lifted by some wind that wasn’t there. When it chirped, the glow became brighter until its musical sounds faded away: They want my cloth. It seems valuable to them.

The White Cloak could understand why they’d think it valuable. Intricate, glowing cloth that allowed its wearer to fly. Problem was, it didn’t have a ‘wearer.’ The cloth was apart of them.

It retracted its arm, letting the cloak fall completely around its body once more. A question on its mind, it rang out again: Sanctuary is relative. But what is this place?

[haemoneiron]

Gossamer;

[composedapotheosis]

haemoneiron:

@composedapotheosis

Crow didn’t look up when she heard the ringing of the bell above the door, focused on the task at hand. A few seconds later “Welcome to the Nest, looking for anything in particular?” After a couple more she tilted her head upwards. 

Not a bad cape, despite the colour. Cloak? Not important. It seemed whatever they were looking for was actually outside, as this one appeared to be looking out onto the street through the glass. Crow stood up and leaned back against the table

“Are you all right?”

The White Cloak didn’t think about which building they were entering, they simply took the closest one available. It was both a blessing and a curse that it had a window. It was nice to peer out of it, but not so nice that others could, presumably, peer back in.

Its eyes were squinted as it scanned the street outside, its focus so great on its surveying that it didn’t register it was being spoken to until the second time.

It turned towards Crow, then back to the window, and finally back to Crow. It took cautious steps away from the window and closer to her; it didn’t want its music to be too audible outside.

It chirped once, quietly, just loud enough that only those inside could hear: I was being followed. Not so good. 

It paused, then, worrying that it wasn’t allowed in here, chirped again: Should I leave?

[composedapotheosis]

saviourofnibel:

It moved. Like a snake, like something sentient … the prospect of a living being made of cloth seemed strange and foreign to them as they continued inspecting it, blinking thoughtfully to themselves. Perhaps here it wasn’t so strange, however …

A chirp of surprise left them as the scarf was raised from the ground and they stood up, pulling away their hands to their chest as if to not disturb it. As it circled them, and each symbol was presented to them. Like a story. Ori made an awe-filled gasp and a smile spread across their face, head turning and whipping round to make sure they left out none of the glyphs.

Ori’s head tilts towards the White Cloak as they reach out to gently poke at each glyph, mouth open a tad at ‘Rythulian’. They look to the glyphs, back to the White Cloak - and point towards them in a questioning manner. Is that what they are?

When the glyph ‘story’ was finished, and they had reached the end of their scarf, the White Cloak let it settle onto the ground again. Then it let out a loud ringing bell sound; not one that meant anything, but to make its entire body and scarf glow as the sound expanded out from within itself.

The White Cloak repeated that, though quieter this time, and with this one, its symbol appeared over its head, just briefly. After that, more shorter chirps to explain:

I am a Rythulian. That symbol identifies myself. Similar to what others call a name, it is unique to me. To differentiate from the rest.

[composedapotheosis]

ceremonialpurge:

    The noise the strange creature made evaporated any lingering sentiments of anger as he took moment to pause. Servants were designed to understand any and all languages, but what did it mean for something a simple as rings and chirps?  He  felt meaning, instinctively waiting.  When the cloth was removed, he finally pushed himself up. What a strange resonance, like it rang within his chest rather than his ears.  (ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜ, sᴇʀᴇɴᴇ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ. Wᴀs ᴛʜɪs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ?) He moved toward his bag hesitantly, setting it upright. He reached for an orange and dropped it in, curiously watching them too.       “ Thank you, but if you could help me collect my fruit before it gets stepped on…”  

The White Cloaked sensed that some bit of tension in the atmosphere was lifted, and it seemed like the clothless human wasn’t going to try and attack it for its mistake. The White Cloak continued watching when they spoke again, asking for help. Oops. It hadn’t realized the fallen groceries also belonged to the person; it was too focused on the fact that it had caused him to trip.

It made a high pitched, quick chirp as if to say Right! and then hopped off the hood of the car onto the sidewalk. It knelt down, taking an apple in one hand and a loaf of bread in another. It studied them for a moment– is this really what clothless ate? Looks weird.

It peered into the paper bag and, very delicately, placed the apple in it. Then it looked at the loaf of bread. Why is this one in a bag, too? Wouldn’t it be better to put everything in one bag? It started untying the twist-tie from the loaf of bread, intending to place each individual slice in the brown paper bag...

[composedapotheosis]

selkiiie:

She was used to being gently carried to bed by now, and usually her coat would be taken, leaving her voiceless. But with it still wrapped around her, she must be retaining her seal mentality, because when she hears those loud sounds, she opened her eyes and started barking back.

“Bork! Bork!”

Oh. They were looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was lying out here. She sat up and pushed the hood back off her head.

“I’m okay. Just tired from swimming. If you’re swimming, I’ll wait here till you’re done.” 

The White Cloak was caught off-guard, absolutely bewildered by the weird... barking? sounds that came from the small child. Based on their limited experience with humans... that was not at all the sound they expected them to make. Was this child even human, then?

They must be at least somewhat human, because after that they spoke normally, like other clothless did. The White Cloak could actually understand what they were saying now, but that didn’t stop them from taking a moment to respond, still trying to wrap its head around that little surprise.

The child didn’t seem harmed, though, so the chirps that came next weren’t as frantic and panicky: I’m not swimming. Why rest right here? You could drown.

[composedapotheosis]

charismonatic:

@composedapotheosis

With it now being the dead of night, and the unfamiliar streets no longer crowded with watchful locals, Charismon had decided to spare five minutes to test the limits of his restricted flight capabilities. What harm could it do?

His heels clack against the concrete as he finds a suitable starting point. A moment later he is rapidly ascending, his head tilted back as if he is ecstatic at the thrilling experience of flight. With how fast he is moving, and past the bright flash of his trailing energy, it is admittedly impossible to discern his expression.

After reaching the appropriate height, the Appmon shuts off his boosters, folds his wings, and lets himself pitch into a spiraling nosedive. To anyone watching from below, it would seem he is seconds away from crashing into the ground.

And believe it or not, there was someone watching from below. Someone who had seen Charismon take off and decided to see what they were up to. The White Cloak casually walked over to where Charismon took off from, looking upwards to watch them.

They were impressively fast, and very bright. Brighter than the White Cloak could be with its cloak, it thought, which was quite bright in and of itself.

When it became apparent that Charismon was coming back down again—and coming down very quickly at that—the White Cloak simply took several steps back. It didn’t want to be hit in the landing zone.

Other than that, it simply kept watching, curious as to if they were going to pull up, or just pull off a dangerous landing only a few meters away.

[composedapotheosis]

thewitchmagilou:

The apartment buildings? That was a good idea, actually. If she climbed to the top floor of each building, broke into someone’s apartment…and then scattered them out the window… Perfect.

“An excellent plan, now I just need to put it into motion~! Would you mind helping~?”

Help? It chirped again, almost bewildered, Do you expect me to carry you to the top?

After saying that, the White Cloak quickly realized that they theoretically could.... Maybe? How heavy could this clothless be, anyway? It’d be much easier if they had a scarf of their own, but... well, maybe it’s best that they didn’t. Best to leave that to Rythulians.

[composedapotheosis]

avaloness:

@composedapotheosis

     ☾ While unable to lift herself from the group like most creatures with wings, the Gargoyle is still able to utilize her by leaping off high ledges… Which is exactly what she does now, allowing her large wings to stretch out and catch the gusts of wind to keep her aloft.

     It’s comforting, in a way, to be able to fly like this again. Since being first trapped within this place, such a feat had been impossible for her due to the meddling of the scientists. Fortunately now the brunette is able to do an activity that no Gargoyle can truly live without and as such, it brings joy to her heart. As the evening breeze blows through her hair and wings, Angela closes her eyes with content for a moment…

     Before opening them once more to see a figure of pure white floating alongside her figure. Gasping in surprise for a moment, Angela simply watches the other for a few moments before coming to the conclusion that they mean no harm for the time being.

     ❝ Oh… Hello. It’s a nice night to glide around, isn’t it? ❞

The White Cloak enjoyed flying during the night much more than during the day. Though the stars it could see were few due to the light pollution, it was still better than nothing, and it was at least a small bit of familiarity in this strange world. 

That, and it was less likely anyone would mind them leaping from rooftops to get a jumpstart on their flight. They hadn’t expected to find someone else partaking in the same activity as them, though.

It caught up them and glided alongside them, keeping its eyes forward and its scarf trailing for a good distance behind them. It was content to do this in silence, but they spoke first. It wasn’t going to be rude and not respond.

Chirping as it did quick aileron rolls, the White Cloak’s music was surprisingly easy to hear over the sound of wind: Nights here usually are. It lets me see the sky– do you appreciate it?

[composedapotheosis]

mimiguard:

|| @composedapotheosis ||

 Something about this creature didn’t really sit right with her. It reminded her none too fondly of those large cat creatures outside the Outer Wall, always floating up and down and shooting weird, horrible ectoplasmic yarn balls at you… It even had the cat ears! Part of her wanted to get her Machine Gun ready just in case it started shooting at her, but…

 … in the end, she ended up too mesmerised by how gracefully it flew around to bother drawing her gun, instead using her hand to shade her eyes. She much preferred sights like these when they weren’t trying to kill her!

It never thought it would need to practice flying; it’s been doing it for so long, you’d think it’d be a master. But it’s never had to fly in anything but a vast, mostly-empty desert before. It didn’t have to worry about buildings, or light poles, or telephone wires...

It turned its head, and out of the corner of its eye, noticed it was being watched. It took away their focus for just enough time for their leg to catch on a pole, sending them into a tumble and forcing them to land near their watcher before it got any worse. So much for grace.

A loud bell rang out from the White Cloak, totally not defensive at all: Are you monitoring me?

[composedapotheosis]

bunny-blanc:

@composedapotheosis liked for a starter!

The more time that passed, the more Bunny found herself missing home. Darling had left the city, making Bunny the only one in this city from her world. Yes there were other fairy tale characters here from other worlds, but none of them could hold a candle to the ones she left behind.

Oh what she wouldn’t do to see Wonderland again, or even Ever After!

“The face with hands says when it begins, but when will it say when it ends?” *When will I be able to go home?

The White Cloak let out a small chirp first, not one that meant anything but simply to let the other know it was there. It’s intention was not to startle them, but it had heard their words as it came closer.

It’s second, drawn out chirp actually had meaning behind it: Not all has an end. Some repeat, endlessly.

The White Cloak sat next to Bunny (though not too close; maybe three feet away) and let its cloak settle to the ground. It didn’t turn to face her, but its musical notes kept ringing:

What end do you seek?

[composedapotheosis]

Rank Up: Citizen

A small box was found in their living quarters with a note attached explaining that it was a ‘gift’ for them being here for one month. Judging by the date, it seems the White Cloak had found this box a couple days late. Not that it particularly mattered— it didn’t even really know what the strange device was.

Determined to figure it out, though, it... endlessly tapped random buttons and pictures on the screen until something happened. That something being them taking a picture of themselves unintentionally.

They looked good!