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There is a musty stillness in this place.
It's a library, with hundreds and hundreds of books on subjects you can only wonder about, their multicolored bindings gathering dust on the shelves. It seems solemn in the utter quiet, but the structure itself is beautiful; polished wood floors beneath intricately sculpted bookcases, and a round, high ceiling supported by tall columns. The dimly lit room seems like it was meant for grander things...
Almost in agreement, you start to hear a few soft notes coming from somewhere in the room...they echo tenderly around the building, making it hard to determine the source.
...A concert hall. That's what this place seems like. The music grows louder now, resonating through the rows of books, and you head towards the source.
A small, slender girl sits on the windowsill, rocking gently to the sound of her violin. Her fingers move lithely about the strings, the bow sways gracefully back and forth. She never opens her eyes to acknowledge you...or, she wouldn't have, had you not just coughed and interrupted her performance.
The girl's face jolts away from the instrument, and she begins to clutch it to her chest. She glares at you, startled, for a moment too quick for you to even make eye contact.
What, who..what are you doing here?! Who are you? She demands, an angry blush dusting her cheeks. Nobody's supposed to be in here!! She swallows hard, setting the instrument down and standing up with a scowl...she looks almost hurt.
Sorry, you offer, backing up a step. I was here for-
No, She shouts, rejecting your apology for a moment, but before you could react, she seems to regret her initial angry reaction. She glares at the ground for a few breaths, then glances back towards you, but not at you. ...Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. She shuffles her feet and looks up towards you apologetically, but her eyes still dart away. Sorry. I don't like it when people listen to me play...
...It's starting to become obvious that something's a little off about this girl...you can't quite tell if she wants your company, or wants dreadfully for you to leave. You wonder to yourself as she bites her lower lip.
Cirrelle used to say that I should tell people about myself so it wouldn't be so hard to talk to you. She shifts her weight. She used to tell people for me.
After a prologned breath, she looks up at you with what could be clear blue eyes, if her mood wasn't so hard to read.
I'm not...like other people.
Because of Taember's disorder, she is often flighty and seems uninterested in the world around her. She has trouble concentrating on things that she doesn't enjoy.
When she is involved though, she'd like to speak her mind...trouble is, a lot of times she doesn't really think about what she's saying or how she's saying it, which leads to a lot of conversations ending in awkward apologies or hurt feelings. For that reason, she tends to be quiet and withdrawn.
There were a few people who she could relate to without worrying about hurting them.
Like all children, she is sometimes honestly selfish.
Name: Taember Lyriesse Tareq
Neo Species: Draik
AnthroAs shapeshifters, myneirans have multiple forms, and mages can even manipulate individual features. As part of Lettillo culture, Taember and her family have forms that are more humanoid than draik, including no claws on the hands, and a human-like nose.
QuadEven though Lettillos don't often use their quad forms, most mages still are able to shift into it. Taember, however, as a non-mage, cannot. (This form is designed for the sake of adoptables and BC entries.)
- Birds & Fish
Taember traces patterns in the wooden table with her fingers, suddenly quiet.
What happened when you were twelve? You break the silence, and she flinches a little bit, looking up at you then directly away.
She seems to think for a moment, then takes a deep breath.
I have an older sister...Well, I did.
SummaryThe shorter version of the WIP writing section. Almost like a sketch of her story.
Taember is born to a wealthy family, not unlike others in the country. Her father spends a great deal of time away, and her mother is most always concerned with her garden or her library, or some other aspect of material thing. But though Taember cares for them, they are not the focus of her life.
When she was young, Tae's older sister, Cirrelle, was the person she cared for most. From the time she was born until she was six years old, Taember never knew how to speak. She couldn't very well comprehend the world around her, nor understand why her mother wanted her indoors all day. She didn't understand anything except enjoyment, and even that was as fleeting as a bird taking wing.
But on days when she could recall, her sister was always there to bring enjoyment. Even if she couldn't show it, or couldn't remember it, Taember loved her sister dearly...and that love only grew when it was Cirrelle that introduced her sister to the violin, and sparked her love of music.
Music changed everything for Taember. Nothing else in the world held much meaning, but music held feeling, and through that, Tae slowly began to adjust to the world around her, with Cirrelle to help. By the time she was ten years old, despite residual learning difficulties, she appeared to be a normal child with an extraordinary talent and drive for music.
Cirrelle however, was also growing up. As much as she loved hearing her sister play, she did have interests of her own...in a magic called Kanten, and the seals that manipulated the world around them. Cirrelle was a quick learner and skilled mage, and in a warring world, she began to put her talents to use by assisting fugitives and soldiers on the run. They could slip into the basement before dawn, seek Cirrelle's council during the day, and make their escape at nightfall. Cirrelle enjoyed helping people, and relished in the knowledge gained from foreigners and travelers who came through. As word spread and more people learned of her talent with seals, more fugitives began to secretly flock to the girls' home, and Cirrelle fell deeper into the underground organization.
But as a sheltered child, Taember feared outsiders. Feral myneirans or humans were enemies to her, monsters...and one day, a human found his way into the library.
Taember was terrified and angry to find out what Cirrelle was doing. If it wasn't enough that Cirrelle was already skipping out on music practice to study her ridiculous magic, now it was worse that these outsiders were pulling her further away with stories of life outside the quiet countryside. And even after that, assuming that these soldiers wouldn't kill the sisters themselves, if anyone found out about it, they could be killed.
At first, Taember resented her sister for it, but that resentment soon subsided when she began to realize that the outsiders were to blame. Tae wouldn't bring it up with her sister, but she hated the fugitives and even Kanten itself with a ferocity that she'd never felt before. Even though Cirrelle knew that Taember disapproved, she still spent an increasing amount of time immersed in the dangerous science.
Years passed. To Taember's dismay, Cirrelle's thirst for knowledge was no longer quenchable by the travelers that came through. She was almost constantly studying or reading on other worlds, leaving Taember and her violin alone in the garden.
As time went on, it became increasingly obvious the risk that Cirrelle was taking by involving herself with the fugitives. She'd seen so many of them, there was no way to trust them all with the lives of her family...she made the decision to leave home and take her troubles with her.
Love of Music
I set the bow to the strings and began to hammer furiously at them, not in the mood for fragility. The sound I produced could hardly be called music, but it was loud enough to make sure my mother suffered with me.
I couldn't stand her. I couldn't stand the fact that she'd started to view my sister as…less than we were. When Taember was born, my mother had always assured me that there was nothing wrong with her; she just took the world in differently than we did. That even though she'd never speak to us, and she'd never smile at me…that she was my sister, and she loved me. And I should love her too.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, and I tried to hold them back.
My sister was…handicapped, but in an odd way. I was only five when she was born, but I remember all the different specialists that came to see her, and all the relatives that came to reassure my parents and me that she would be okay. I could see nothing wrong with her, but I was told that it would take her a while to learn to speak, and even longer to recognize us, and longer still to communicate properly. My mother would begin to cry every time someone told her about Taember's problems, but I just saw my baby sister, and I wanted to treat her like one of us.
As she grew older, and we were forced to compare her to other children her age, her disability became obvious. Other children could run and talk and laugh, they'd see their parents' faces and smile. Our Taember though, didn't seem to recognize any of us.
At six years old, she hadn't spoken a word, and had only recently learned to walk without falling…much. She never responded to our voices and never made eye contact. She didn't seem to really comprehend anything that was going on around her. Her body was perfect and she had no real physical needs, it was just as if she was completely lost in her own world all the time.
Every now and then mother would find a new tutor for her, or someone of the house staff would suggest a way to bring her out of her own world and in to ours. But Taember was unreachable. Every teacher would deem her a lost cause, and any kind of treatment had little to no effect. It began to seem like she'd never find a way out of her own mind.
Tears were falling freely now. Of course it was hard dealing with Tae, but everyone in our home adored her…at least I thought so. It pained me to think that there was someone in the house who thought she should be sent away, and even more so that mom agreed.
The screeching noise from my violin had turned into a minor key ballad and slowly come to a halt, so I reached up to angrily dab the tears from my cheek.
I jerked my head upwards, looking to see who'd caught me crying.
And any I do, they're all just blurred and muted, like being under water. You can't see much, and can't hear much of anything, but every now and then a shimmer of sunlight or dash of something brilliant appears before your eyes.
I lived for those. The tiny bits of happiness in a dark and hazy place…the only ones I could comprehend, at the time, anyway. I loved birds, and thought myself a lot like how they were to us…here then gone. One instant a cardinal could flit onto my windowsill, then take wing and vanish into hazy blue. But while it was there, it shared happiness with me.
Names, faces, experiences…I never remembered any of them until I saw them again. There were a few people who were around me most, and a couple of them I even enjoyed being with. One had pretty hair, silvery white and pulled back in a manner that I liked looking at. She would speak to me in a soft voice and stay with me for a long time, even though I could never understand what she was saying. I recognized when she said my name though, so she must have been close to me.
Sometimes, I would remember her and look for her. Most of the time, I could never find her…but today when I went looking, I found her.
Well, not her…but I found something that lead me to her.
...I never understood what people were telling me. I heard the words, but they never held any meaning to me.
But today, for the first time…I understood something.
It was anger.
I heard a vicious noise that sounded terrifying and furious. I stood still and listened, and at first I was afraid of it. But the noise fell soon into a sorrowful, moaning lament that made my heart ache. I thought of the person I was searching for and suddenly missed her dearly. I walked towards the sound and found it behind glass doors, that's where I found the person with silver hair. She held a strange thing in her hands…and I remembered it slightly. She drew a long piece back and forth along a section of strings, and the movement was almost as enchanting as the sounds coming from it. It felt as if it made my heart beat; painfully, at that…and as I looked at the girl's face, I saw tears.
…Sadness. This was sadness. I completely understood.
Too soon, the sounds—which I came to know as music—fell into silence. I was sad to hear it end… and the girl took her hand away from the object and brought it to her face.
I didn't know how to tell her not to stop…I beat my hand against the glass, twice.
Things were a lot easier back then. I improved a lot over the first few years, and my sister was almost always around. But then, it got...
I loved this time of day. I'd gotten wise to the fact that Taember seemed to disappear every day around this time, and I finally figured out what she was doing…
There she was…I quickly moved behind a bookcase so she wouldn't spot me, and silently took a seat for the show.
Taember hated performing…not even performing, she just hated playing in front of anyone besides me or our mother, and even then she never really put much effort into it. I'd overheard far too many bits of her actually playing not to be curious as to what she was like when she thought she was alone.
She stole a few glances around before setting the violin to her shoulder and beginning to play, the opening notes turning into a grand introduction that I'd never heard before…
It had been four years since Taember had first taken an interest in music—the violin specifically. She'd spent most of her time since then obsessed with the instrument, dedicating any free moment she could find to playing or asking for instruction. Mom thought it was unfair that I had to forfeit my violin to Taember's obsession, but in reality it was working out perfectly…I had no problem at all with trading music practice for the science I loved, and the instrument was an invaluable tool when it came to tying Tae to reality.
She reached the crescendo, exaggerating her movements with a dramatic flare that she only ever dared when no one was watching. I grinned to myself.
By now, she looked like the perfect little natural—her delicate wrist tremored with near perfect vibrato, body swaying to cues in the music, accenting the phrasing—but she and I both agreed that the term "natural" was a cheat to how hard she'd worked to develop the skill.
Taember worked hard at most everything. Speaking, reading, writing, socializing; she wasn't a "natural" at much, but that only made it all the more pleasing as we saw progress. I thought I was almost starting to realize that she'd never be entirely normal, but that wasn't a disappointing thought in the slightest. She was so uniquely herself, so far from perfect with quirky little insights that only someone like her would ever understand. It would be a shame for her to be anything than what she was.
I spent a lot of time in the gardens, that year...trying not to think about what Cirrelle was getting into.
Taember? I called, covering my eyes as I stepped off the porch and into the sunlight. The courtyard was alive and colorful in the summer, and lately Taember's songs had been about flowers…I figured the garden was a good place to start looking for her.
It'd been a few years since Taember had figured out that I was developing my talent with a very…illegal intention. We almost always fought when the subject came up, but it seemed like she was accepting the fact that nothing she could say would change my mind about continuing to help people…which was why I was hoping not to fight with her today. I was seeking her out to ask about something…
Tae? I heard a splash near the fish pond…
Sunlight glinted off the stagnant water, as the few fish in the pond scrambled for safety. A few slimy weeds clung to Taember's hair as she bobbed slightly in the water…she giggled when I cringed at the new green tint on her formerly white shirt.
Care to join me? She seemed pleased with herself.
In the pond? I think I'll pass. I found a dry spot on the edge of the pond and sat down, careful not to let any part of me touch the water. What are you doing in there, anyway? It's got to be…nasty.
If it's clean enough for mother's precious fish, it's clean enough for me. She retorted, a flick of her tail and splash of water accenting her statement.
And I was coming up with a song about fish. So I'm getting to know them.
…If there were a way to get to know fish, I suppose that would be it.
That's what I thought… The way she worded it made me think she was starting to regret that decision. She started attempting to pick algae out of the fur on her tail. Wanna get me a towel?
No, you can sit there and soak. I've got to talk to you, anyway. I looked up and waited for her reaction, but there was none. Tae?
What? She looked away. I don't like how you're sounding.
Just talk to me for a second, I insisted, trying not to let her on to the fact that she probably wouldn't like this proposition. It's not bad.
She turned her head in my direction, a skeptical look on her face. What?
…Great, more fighting.
Umm, well you know how some of mom's relatives run schools?
The ones across the country from us?
She frowned. What of them? She set her elbows on the paved edge of the pond, opposite me, and began to lift herself out of the water. I got the feeling she guessed what I was going to say…
One of them is a school specializing in Kanten for medicinal purposes. Seals, too, it's…pretty perfect.
Too bad they live so far away, then. She sat down on the edge, her feet and tail still dangling into the water. She watched the fish for a moment before looking up at me. Then I might've said yes.
I ground my teeth together. I don't need your permission to go to school, I said, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice. I just thought I'd be polite and get your opinion on it before I packed my bags. I want to go. Mom wants me to go.
But I don't. She picked a lily from the water. You can't leave me behind here—
I can't always be around to babysit you, Taember. I took a deep breath and watched her carefully contain any reaction she might've had, glaring at the small bloom in her hand. …Both of us have to grow up sometime. And this is a great opportunity for me.
She swallowed hard. But you can't leave, sorry. Her words were slow and chosen carefully. You'll have to pick another school.
Does my life revolve around you? I demanded rhetorically. She bit her lip and didn't respond, so I pressed more. Do you want me to stay here with you forever? It doesn't work like that. If you don't like me helping soldiers then I can go and get a real education, if you want me to continue then I can stay.
I hate you helping them! She shouted, suddenly glaring at me with narrowed eyes. I hate it when they come here, I hate Kanten, I hate fighting, and I hate it when you say you're not happy here, with me!!
Taember took in heavy breaths, obviously trying to keep from crying or shouting more, but it wasn't going to work. She hurled the flower into the water, and it sunk beneath the surface.
I stood up after a moment and started to walk away. Well you can hope I don't get in, then.
I left her dripping by the pond.
A few weeks later, the acceptance letter to my uncle's school of anything I could ever dream of sat on my desk. I ran my fingers across his signature at the bottom...I didn't know what kind of strings my parents had pulled to get me in, but I was in. I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of decision...
I snuck outside that night and tossed the letter into the pond.
AbandonmentAs far off as we were from the homeland…you never heard about war. But Cirrelle did. She seemed to really like hearing about it, though I could never imagine why. "Our" side needed as much help as it could get, so the leading factions began to call on the wealthy to donate anything they could to help. Mother said no. Father said yes…in the form of his daughter.
Lately, I've taken a particular harmless interest in the news.
At least, that's what everyone around me would think. But in reality, I was watching and reading for the names or faces of anyone I'd helped underground. When any of them attempted to cross any borders—which was inevitable, the way the country was divided up now—if anything suspicious was detected, they could very well be killed on site. That would mean seizure of everything they were carrying, which would mean whatever they'd taken from me while they were here would be discovered, ultimately leading to my imprisonment or execution. And I doubt my father would spare a word in my defense if he discovered that I'd been helping humans.
He kept telling me to get involved…Dad kept insisting that I should use my gift to help our tiny portion of the country. He said to pick a side and stick with it, to save lives. And that's exactly what I'm doing, but at the potential cost of my family's well being. The time was fast approaching to make a decision. It had come to a point where I could no longer float between involvement and innocence…I needed to pick a side.
I wanted more than anything to stay with Taember. I couldn't imagine abandoning her, or what that would do to her fragile state of mind….but the other alternative would be to stay here and let it fester until someone finds me—no, us—out. Tae had known about my illegal involvement with fugitives for years now, but she kept quiet because I asked her to. Her illness wasn't severe enough to make up for that in front of a jury, especially in these paranoid times.
With the way we'd been fighting lately, I wanted to think that we were naturally drifting apart, and my leaving wouldn't bother her so much. But it seemed that I couldn't even delude myself that much…she only fights with me because she doesn't have to try so hard to watch what she says to me. Because she isn't ashamed of herself around me, because we're…sisters.
And for that very reason, I knew I had to leave. Taember doesn't care about turmoil, and she shouldn't be forced to. She was well enough to get over abandonment.
The breath in my chest even seemed to echo. The tree swing above my head creaked lonesomely, and even the wind in the leaves of the trees was hushed in observance.
This was the last place. The last place I'd ever look for her, and...
She wasn't here.
That phrase resonated in my mind, even it seemed lonely. Ever since I woke up this morning, I could hardly find anyone around. The people I did pass in the hall quickly looked down and continued on with their business, something of importance that they all seemed in a hurry to get to, but not to tell me about. But I'd overheard. My sister was missing.
But...'missing' was all they'd said. And since she was missing, I knew I could find her. So I'd spent all morning and a good portion of the afternoon combing the main house, small house, library house, basements, attics, courtyard, woods, and garden in search. This tree with a swing used to be a fun place to stay when we were younger, because the bushes attracted butterflies and the tree's flowers bloomed in all colors in the summer...but the swing broke a few years ago, and we hadn't been here since. We never wanted it fixed because nobody knew to find us here...so I never thought she'd be here, and I never thought to look, except now.
And...she wasn't here, either.
I laid down in the grass beneath the swing, watching the old plank twist quietly on the one rope left supporting it. She wasn't...anywhere. I didn't think about the place that I couldn't check...which was wherever those riffraffs of hers had gone off to.
My mind worked slowly, as slowly as it had all day. I swallowed hard. I already knew sister was gone.
But she couldn't be...gone?
I took a slow, shaky breath.
If she was gone, that means she left. Left...me. Purposely. Didn't I...matter? Or any of her books, or her things? Why would she leave all of us behind? My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration. I couldn't understand...why.
We had been fighting lately, but we always made up. And as many mean things I said, she always knew I didn't mean them...
My lip started to quiver. I was so stupid. Cirrelle always told me to think of what someone else was feeling when I said things, even in front of people. It embarassed me...but the only time she didn't tell me was when I would say things to her.
I'm sorry. I confessed to the air above me, but...
The whole day seemed lonely...and I cried when I realized that it would always be lonely from now on.
LossI called it…'Loss.' Because that's why I wrote it…I was lost.
I should've told sister I only wanted to play when she was here, maybe then she would've stayed to hear my music.
Don't you want to play another piece?
I was absorbed in watching the rain roll down the leaves of a plant. Just staring out the window and not doing anything…this time of day I could sit here and do that without anyone interrupting me. This was when Cirrelle used to write her dumb, brilliant seals, and she needed me to be quiet. So I was trying.
Did you hear me?
…Who was that, now?
I had to make an effort to acknowledge Teacher. It wasn't as easy as before. Yes?
Try to pay attention. Are you sure you want to play this one? She held a small stack of papers, and I recognized them as a song I'd written a few weeks ago.
I told you already, I want to play that one. Yes.
She gave me a tired look and raised her eyebrows while shaking her head, the way she usually did when excusing my odd behavior. I think it's too sad.
I think I am sad, I responded, and the way she flinched without looking up made me think I'd shouted at her…I didn't think I had?
Lower your voice, She muttered. This is a fund raising event, not a funeral. You're going to make everyone upset.
Do you think it's not good?
I think it's brilliant, actually, lots of emotion. Clever phrasing. But very depressing. She sifted through the pages and drew her eyebrows together. Are you positive?
I've said yes, I reminded her, and she let out the breath I'd noticed she was holding. Okay. Do you want me to practice with you?
No. I turned back to the window…
I know losing your sister has been hard on you. And if you need somebody to talk to—
You've known me for a long time, what makes you think talking makes me feel better? It makes me feel worse.
You need somebody. You don't have to talk, but just get close to someone—
If it's ever anyone, that someone won't be you. I looked up to judge her reaction like Cirrelle used to tell me to. She looked hurt. I'm...sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.
She sighed again. That's okay honey, you know I speak your language.
Teacher gathered the last of her things and waved goodbye to me before leaving.
And I went back to the quiet and rain…
I could've sworn you told me yesterday that you didn't need any practice! Teacher rubbed her temples from behind the piano, and even though I knew she wasn't yelling at me, it still felt like it. I felt like everything was upset with me today, somehow.
I don't, with the song I don't.
But your performance leaves a lot to be desired.
I never wanted to perform. I still don't. I can't.
Ooh, don't you even start to say things like that, She chided, and flipped the notebook she was sitting behind back to the beginning of my song. Don't blame it on anything but yourself, either. You can do much better.
I didn't say anything, just raised the violin to my shoulder. I glanced at teacher at the piano, letting her know I was ready to begin.
Imagine the audience, she'd told me. Get used to the pressure. You'd rather crack under pressure now, while the auditorium is empty, than when there are a few hundred sets of eyes watching. Looking out at the expanse of empty seats was bad enough, though. I didn't want to think about when there were people in them.
The slow, mournful opening chords fell to pianissimo, which was my cue to begin. I set off with the first note, and mechanically fell into the melody.
I didn't know what to think about now. I couldn't think about why I wrote this song. Or where I was, on stage in front of hundreds of imaginary people, who would be all too real in a few days. I couldn't think about my bad mood, or the fact that Teacher was so frustrated with me. And I most certainly could not think about the fact that everyone who would be here knew that Cirrelle was gone, and they knew that I wasn't much without her.
What in the world are you doing? Teacher finally interrupted me. You don't have it written that slow, it's not supposed to be that way is it? I knew she didn't mean to hurt me, but it did anyway.
No, I don't mean to be playing slowly, I'm just…thinking. Sorry. I moved my fingers back to the starting position. You can start over.
Taember, She dropped her hands from the keys and turned to me, even though I didn't look back at her. I thought you wanted to play this song because that's how you felt? But why do you want to...cry in front of so many people?
Who said anything about crying?
She took a deep breath in. I can read your music like a diary by now. And you insisted on this song, we'll play this song. But you have to think about why you wrote it and who you're playing it for, to get in to the performance. Stop worrying about saving face—
I will not think about that. My fingers trembled a little bit on the bow.
Fine, She sounded really…short with me. You don't have to think about anything, Taember. Just play, that's what you do best. Just play. She hit the keys a little too angrily for this song...but I went with that. Anger was probably better than sadness. So when my cue came, I sawed down on the strings with anger instead of love…and in rehearsal and on stage a few days later, everyone liked "anger" better than "loss." So that's what I replaced it with, both on the sheet music and in my head.
RelationshipsTaember pulls a large, leather-bound book off the shelf.
This is...this is where I keep everything about my family. She frowns, furrowing her eyebrows a little. I haven't looked at this for a long time, but if you're curious...
She turns to set the book down on the table, and opens to the first page. A photograph is lined neatly to the left of the page, and a few lines of messy handwriting accompany it.
You watch the play of emotion across her face as she scours the image...at first she seems angry, but the emotion fades to confusion, and a painful need for answers.
After a moment, Taember seems to remember your presence. She slides the book towards you, eyes glued to the floor. You can look at it, if you want.
The book's page seems different somehow...and after a moment you realize that there's been a piece of paper taped to the section next to the picture, replacing whatever was there before...odd.
This is my sister. She left about a year ago so, I haven't seen her since. I hope she comes back soon and doesn't get hurt.
This is my music teacher. She used to be Cirrelle's teacher, but Cirrelle gave up playing the violin.
Besides my sister, Teacher is the only one who I don't mind playing in front of.
I love my parents, but it seems like they're always trying to convince me to do something besides music or listen to me play. Mother has been upset since Cirrelle left...but Father doesn't want to look for her.
A few plot relevant characters, but ones that Taember wouldn't know personally at the time period in which the page is written.
JedthanJedth's role in Taember's life is little more than to keep her sister happy. Over time he starts to become a big brother to Taember, not without significant protest from her.
Jedth's body is covered in intricate seals and runes, which Taember frequently points out seems to be the only reason Cirrelle is interested in him...but he takes Taember's jabs in stride. Eventually she becomes more relaxed around him, since he's one of the few who can easily tolerate her mannerisms.
EltishaEl is Jedthan's sister. She and her brother came back to Taember's home with Cirrelle, and at first Taember didn't like her...but El seems extremely interested in Taember's music, which brought about a near immediate peace treaty. They've become very close.
Taember produces a small, slightly frightening creature from behind the bookshelf.
Ghost regards you for a moment before returning to his place on the bookshelf, curling his tail about his legs.
I think my sister got him for me to keep me company while she's away...but he doesn't really like me. He doesn't quite like anyone. We're not exactly sure what he is, or where he came from - or even if he's actually a 'he'.
The book's binding crackles a little bit as she opens it, holding it upright for you to view.
(Click and drag them to your address bar for full view, hover over for more information.)
Taember begins to turn the page. Most of these are done by one artist, but mother gets bored with her sometimes. She's starting to turn into an art collector, I think...there are lots of other pieces by lots of different people in the rest of the book, not all of them of me.
(Thank you so much to those willing to draw for my app! ;w; *cling* Words cannot describe. Hover over to see who drew them!)
Miscellaneous Other Art
Rules1. Do not claim them as your own.
2. Do not enter them in the BC, AG, or any other art-based competition/activity on neopets or elsewhere.
3. Do not edit them; these are not makeables.
4. Do not put a custom adoptable on your page if you did not request it.
Custom Requests: CLOSED
If you have a custom, replace "Color" with your pet's full name.
CustomsThese are only for use of the person who requested or traded for them. IF THIS IS NOT YOUR DESIGN, DO NOT USE IT.
AdoptedA huge thanks to everyone who was willing to make me a custom. ;3; ♥
Taember glances out the window at the fading daylight. Cast against the piercing light of sunset, Taember's sihlouette is hard to make out...but you think you detect a hint of a smile on her lips.
Thank you for listening. She looks down at her hands...then up at you, and you can finally look into her eyes.
Would you like to come back again? She offers you a small piece of paper, seemingly a photograph...
You open the doors of the grand library, hearing he small beginning notes of a song from Taember's violin. Maybe you would like come back one day...
But for now, where to go next?
Thanks to everyone who gave art, gave crits, corrected my errors, told me I couldn't code, fixed my color scheme...et cetera XD
And pretty much all the people on the NNTM board, because there weren't enough letters in the phrase "some losers" to link to you all. |D
This page was only made possible through an enormous amount of Kitagging and support. XD So I thank and ilu all. ♥
This application was started on December 27th, 2009.
Images created (by myself): 69
Counter started on December 31st, 2009.
is © Cloudsandlightning/Clouded unless otherwise specified.
Usage of any of these materials without express written consent
will result in an immediate all-expenses-paid trip to iceland on one
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