#& taurus.

[celestialscaled]

skull.   what memories/thoughts do they guard the most from others ? (taurus?)

@electricea

Taurus for the most part is pretty open with both his kin and his followers. I would say the only memory he really keeps close to his heart and to himself is his favorite priestess. She was only fourteen and he utterly adored her like she was his own child. He will never reveal how sickly she became, how he watcher her waste away into nothing until her life came to an end. 

[celestialscaled]

@savestcrs + Taurus.

Space was cold. Not the same cold as a bitter winter when snow would pile upon him and make him look like white capped mountain. There was an emptiness here that he hated. He missed Virgo’s lush forests to rest in. He missed Aquarius’ deep seas, crisp on his tongue when he drank. He missed Gemini’s brilliant winds as he flew.

He could not recall how long it had been since the initial Great Betrayal; the event that had cast him and his eleven siblings into space and turned them to stars. But it had been a long time in this cold, drifting mindlessly, all alone. The worst sort of existence. 

And then came the things that ate the stars. 

The Stonemover watched as the heavens grew darker and darker, great balls of fire and light dimming by the day. Would such a thing effect him? Or his kin, scattered out in the deep dark? He, once a powerful god, felt helpless.

Then he came across the bronze vessel, a beautiful thing of the oddest architecture he had seen. But it had a breathtaking aura to it that made him draw closer, the constellation cluster that made up his form taking a shape akin to what he once was.

“And what are you, little thing?” He asked, his voice like stones grinding against one another after an earthquake. “Why are you out here, in the dark?”

[celestialscaled]

@starshinc + Taurus.

The Stonemover yawns, his maw gaping like some dark cavern in a place no man should tread. Curling fangs slip from his maw like ivory knives, but there is no danger here. Not to the hatchling that sits nestled between his front talons. 

A pale green eye cracks open, a tired rumble slipping from his throat. His jaws close with a click of teeth, smacking his forked tongue against the roof of his mouth. And only then, when wakefulness has come to him, does he notice it.

The hatchling is missing. 

Taurus jolts to all fours- as fast as he can given his size and heft. He was always the biggest of the Celestials with scales like stone and a titanic shape that could even rival the War Beast, Aries. “Izuku?” He calls into the dark of their hideaway. The little one can barely fly. Surely he has not gone far. 

“Izuku?!” He calls again, his low voice becoming more frantic, more fearful. The others are starting to stir around him, waking from their slumbers. He doesn’t want to be known as the one that lost their last connection to the old magic, but he will wake them all if it means they can find the youngling safe and sound.