Post by SorchaNiWynne on Nov 14, 2024 14:55:48 GMT
The faithful watch the forest for the coming of the Queen. Their lanterns bright, they wait at night for the new world she shall bring.
We begin upside down Sorcha's eyes closed as she is sat cross legged and the whole world slowly comes to the right side up as her wrists are bound up to the elbow by the same leather strap she was recently gifted.
They gather round with leering smiles, the soulless and the dead. Though her soul unwinds, the cruelest minds will keep her in her bed.
She kept her eyes closed even as she spoke, hands shaking and that hat on her head.
“The silver’d moon is howling, gone it's mourning black. In their dreams its face is prowling, come to take them back. We dance in tune and 4 by two The belt is on the mat, we swing and sway and shake and shiver rocking to and fro, survival dear they say is yours but you reap what you have sewn.”
She tightens her eyes as if wishing away or frightened by whatever vision she sees drawing a breath as she draws a silent scream before she pauses at it’s apex.
“Outside the storm is rising as four together rise, to fight and spoil and tug and toil for belt and crowd a broil, only one can walk away only on is true the melee is upon us, the prices paid are due, so let me sing of glory and raise my banner high speak of my opponents and desires which are mine.”
She tenses her wrists, grasping that leather strap as it creaks against her pale skin, her accent lilting lyrically in the wind.
The princess in the tower is hidden far away. But nothing under heaven can keep The fight at bay.
“I speak the first of scion, of Diamond and of Blake, gifted with the willow, her bloodline is at stake, she is lost in hedge and withering,freezing doubt. The path is not revealed but she is brave and full of life. This fight will test her zeal.”
Her lips crook into a smile even as the camera starts to move around her slowly in orbit.
“Now I speak of bamboo, bound up like the sword kissed by moon and strength with boons, she battles for this crown,a heart so irrepressible, like those phases of the moon from full to half to gibbous …The blood will come too soon.”
The camera starts to speed up as Sorcha's form seems to be twitching and shifting as if on time lapse, multiple versions of herself all seeming to wish to break free but held in place by that leather strap.
“I speak of Lady Luca, holder of the gold, with her weapon made of iron, her heart so bright and bold, she stands with that advantage A castle and a crown, but beneath a skin so perfect there is a troubled brow.”
The camera movement seems to slow down again along with Sorcha's movements almost at peace but her speech continues.
“We four together winding down our separate roads to a city of a Lone Star form hill to rock to goal, the masses the will gather and below the light they sing, the battle they will witness and all together scream I could bemoan my weapon , I could bemoan my fate, But this Melee is approaching fast and I shall not victory forsake.”
She looks down at her bond wrists and arms and flexes again with a slight sigh.
“I know how it looks, my subjects but I am unfettered by these bindings, by the impositions of men on our ability. I would have preferred the sword, or the bat or the iron but here I am, gazing at these weapons and unafraid I relish this chance to stand forth in the melee against foes I have yearned to face a change to raise our banner …To claim a crown.”
She keeps looking down, shifting quietly in her seated position muttering softly.
“No time hath she to sport and play: A charmed web she weaves always. A curse is on her, if she stay Her weaving, either night or day,
To look down to Dallas.”
She tenses her jaw with a steak of eyeliner running down her cheek when she sniffs a tear away.
“So I will take your curse away Lady De Luca, Lady of the Moon Scion of the Blake ,when burly over my will be done, you strength, your power , your technique, non e of it matters all that matters is whose heart remains untarnished and strong…and I will not knee I lay unbloodied and unbowed…By the time the night is over I will wear my crimson crown.”
She tries to reach up to that rogue streak but realizes again her arms are bound as she looks at the camera.
“So bound we are and bound we’ll be to sway to knife and knave, only one can leave head held high and never led astray, the crossroads are a winding we brave souls are found..”
She slowly starts to unwind the strap, the leather having left red marks across her skin as she unwinds gently escaping herself made binding.
“It matters not which one of you, for all we four are bound, I will strike with greater virtue, I will smite for all my cause when said and done the battle won, my banner will unfurl.”
She takes a long slow breath that strap now unwound fully and held in her hands.
“So listen well my ladies, this is no idle threat, I’ll lay you low and ride the victors road after you all have fallen down.”
She takes off her hat and slowly rises, that sad look becoming a smile.
“Take not sad heart my sisters, I do but mean you well, but in this song there can be only one.”
She gives a deep curtsey and a fade out as she drops the strap.
We begin upside down Sorcha's eyes closed as she is sat cross legged and the whole world slowly comes to the right side up as her wrists are bound up to the elbow by the same leather strap she was recently gifted.
They gather round with leering smiles, the soulless and the dead. Though her soul unwinds, the cruelest minds will keep her in her bed.
She kept her eyes closed even as she spoke, hands shaking and that hat on her head.
“The silver’d moon is howling, gone it's mourning black. In their dreams its face is prowling, come to take them back. We dance in tune and 4 by two The belt is on the mat, we swing and sway and shake and shiver rocking to and fro, survival dear they say is yours but you reap what you have sewn.”
She tightens her eyes as if wishing away or frightened by whatever vision she sees drawing a breath as she draws a silent scream before she pauses at it’s apex.
“Outside the storm is rising as four together rise, to fight and spoil and tug and toil for belt and crowd a broil, only one can walk away only on is true the melee is upon us, the prices paid are due, so let me sing of glory and raise my banner high speak of my opponents and desires which are mine.”
She tenses her wrists, grasping that leather strap as it creaks against her pale skin, her accent lilting lyrically in the wind.
The princess in the tower is hidden far away. But nothing under heaven can keep The fight at bay.
“I speak the first of scion, of Diamond and of Blake, gifted with the willow, her bloodline is at stake, she is lost in hedge and withering,freezing doubt. The path is not revealed but she is brave and full of life. This fight will test her zeal.”
Her lips crook into a smile even as the camera starts to move around her slowly in orbit.
“Now I speak of bamboo, bound up like the sword kissed by moon and strength with boons, she battles for this crown,a heart so irrepressible, like those phases of the moon from full to half to gibbous …The blood will come too soon.”
The camera starts to speed up as Sorcha's form seems to be twitching and shifting as if on time lapse, multiple versions of herself all seeming to wish to break free but held in place by that leather strap.
“I speak of Lady Luca, holder of the gold, with her weapon made of iron, her heart so bright and bold, she stands with that advantage A castle and a crown, but beneath a skin so perfect there is a troubled brow.”
The camera movement seems to slow down again along with Sorcha's movements almost at peace but her speech continues.
“We four together winding down our separate roads to a city of a Lone Star form hill to rock to goal, the masses the will gather and below the light they sing, the battle they will witness and all together scream I could bemoan my weapon , I could bemoan my fate, But this Melee is approaching fast and I shall not victory forsake.”
She looks down at her bond wrists and arms and flexes again with a slight sigh.
“I know how it looks, my subjects but I am unfettered by these bindings, by the impositions of men on our ability. I would have preferred the sword, or the bat or the iron but here I am, gazing at these weapons and unafraid I relish this chance to stand forth in the melee against foes I have yearned to face a change to raise our banner …To claim a crown.”
She keeps looking down, shifting quietly in her seated position muttering softly.
“No time hath she to sport and play: A charmed web she weaves always. A curse is on her, if she stay Her weaving, either night or day,
To look down to Dallas.”
She tenses her jaw with a steak of eyeliner running down her cheek when she sniffs a tear away.
“So I will take your curse away Lady De Luca, Lady of the Moon Scion of the Blake ,when burly over my will be done, you strength, your power , your technique, non e of it matters all that matters is whose heart remains untarnished and strong…and I will not knee I lay unbloodied and unbowed…By the time the night is over I will wear my crimson crown.”
She tries to reach up to that rogue streak but realizes again her arms are bound as she looks at the camera.
“So bound we are and bound we’ll be to sway to knife and knave, only one can leave head held high and never led astray, the crossroads are a winding we brave souls are found..”
She slowly starts to unwind the strap, the leather having left red marks across her skin as she unwinds gently escaping herself made binding.
“It matters not which one of you, for all we four are bound, I will strike with greater virtue, I will smite for all my cause when said and done the battle won, my banner will unfurl.”
She takes a long slow breath that strap now unwound fully and held in her hands.
“So listen well my ladies, this is no idle threat, I’ll lay you low and ride the victors road after you all have fallen down.”
She takes off her hat and slowly rises, that sad look becoming a smile.
“Take not sad heart my sisters, I do but mean you well, but in this song there can be only one.”
She gives a deep curtsey and a fade out as she drops the strap.
Well howdy there pardner.