▐ ƬЯΛПƧÇΣПD ;;

[ofapotheosis-blog]

▐ charge ;;

                            meditation  has never been  easy for them.  Sure,  at certain times,                             they  like the quiet,  the chance  to rest,  to reflect,  but most  other                             times,  they hate having to sit still.  Like now. They’re not sure how                             much  time has passed  since they and the Guardian  sat down to-                             gether in the sand — minutes, hours. Tentatively, they chirp, “…♪?”

                     ▐ мeditation  was a sacred thing.   The only time or way to  truly                         feel  close to the ancestors. And learning these practices  was                         instrumental  in  coming to terms with what has  passed.  With                         the  atrocities that once ruled the land they now wandered.  In                         time, the young one would understand.  They only hoped that                         their    spirit   remained    unchanged    by   such    sombering                          revelations.   An eye opens at the others' careful chime,   and                         their chest caves slightly with a silent sigh. Just barely turning                         their head, a short note escapes them, "♩?"

[ofapotheosis-blog]

▐ ??? ;;

▐ charge ;;

                               they were  far too curious  for their  own good,  too willing to reck-                                lessly  float over  the sand,  toward  whatever figure  or shadow  or                                shiny object that happened to catch their eye.  It was  a good thing                                one  of  the  white cloaks,  the  guardians  was there  to help  them;                                otherwise, they would be  hopelessly  lost. They glided along, twirl-                                ing,  scarf glowing as  they went,  and only  took pause  when they                                heard  that chime.  The little Wayfarer  glanced  back,  giving  three                                quick chimes in quick successions — no more than someone blow-                                ing over the lip of a flute.

                        the wolf advanced with ever growing speed, head raising and                                                  excitement brewing as the notes continued. Despite being one                               herself, Amaterasu had heard the tales of many inexplicable                               occurrences. Budding plant life trailed in her wake, ivory coat                               glistening beneath the well-loved sun. Dark hues flickered upwards                               as a string of three short trills floated through the air and the wolf                               paused at such a sight. People….no…beings. Amaterasu’s head                               craned towards the sky, her gait slowed down to a careful walk.                               Curiosity once again beckoned her to tempt fate, but for once she                               knew nothing of the creatures over her crown. A slight pant forming                               from her maw, she gives a loud bark — a pitiful, almost ugly sound                                in comparison to their chimes, but a call for acknowledgement                               nonetheless.

                     ▐ Ƭhey  had been witness to many a strange thing in the                         desert, but none were quite like this. Their eyes beheld                         the  beast  long before it called out to them, in  a  noise                          that could only be described as frightening. With a long                         whistle,  loud  and sharp, they flocked  to  their  charge                         dutifully, placed themselves between the crimson cloak                         and  this  new  being,  eyes narrowed  ever  so  slightly.                          Their long scarf unfurled in  the breeze, gold and white                         and billowing free. And they waited, ever wary of those                         few things they could not explain.

[sunrxsing-deactivated20150228]

+ ofnascence + ofapotheosis

[ofapotheosis-blog]

▐ ??? ;;

                She hears it. Ears swivel and eyes shift                              upon discovery of this particular melody.                              Both the instincts of the wolf and the                              instincts of the Celestial tempt her to                              draw near; beckon her to follow the                              siren’s song. The Mother turns on her                              haunches and breaks into a lope, both                              spirit and curiosity high.

                     ▐ Guardian. The title was one they'd worn often, and                          it  was not the first time they had helped to ferry  a                          young soul across the  desert. Each was so eager,                          ready  and  willing to complete the pilgrimage,  but                          not  all  were quite as.. inquisitive as the  one  they                          now had under their charge. The sharp chime had                          come  out of forewarning  --  while their feet  were                           more  suited  to  the  sands,  these  dunes  shifted                          often,  and  without  warning, and  then  came  the                           peculiar  sound  of feet,  pawing hard  through  the                          sand.  Now,  they chimed fervently at  their  comp-                          anion,  soaring upward  in an attempt to close  the                          distance between them.

[ofapotheosis-blog]

[ unmasked ;; ] hello all !! thank you, all of you, who've followed thus far. i'm obviously still working on my pages, but if you would like a starter toss this a like i suppose !!

[ofapotheosis-blog]

▐ welcome home ;;

[skorri]

make me choose meme | anonymous asked: Journey; blue or gold?

[ofapotheosis-blog]

WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE IN A BAD MOOD?

               ▐   Ƭhe slow near-whistle of a chime that bubbles from                     them is telling to  the ears capable of understanding.                    Their tone trills and lilts, paints a picture in individual                    strokes, a portrait, streams of cloth alight in the dark,                     so peaceful, even amid ruins of a time long past. It’s                    there  that they linger, tangled among the  creatures                    and singing, unafraid, finding joy in their new life.

[sadisticstudkeepingsecretary]