- Messages
- 174
- Character Biography
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As Ispir waited eagerly outside the temporary church set up in the pursuit of love and companionship he could hardly contain the blooming warmth and frenetic eagerness that thrummed like a bolt of lightning to the tips of his fingers and toes. The wind whistled and whispered by his ears and through his hair a warm breeze carried off the Allir docks, a windswept promise of the warmth to come, the faintest murmur of what was sure to be a wonderful evening. The red and pink curtains the church was draped with, in rich colors denoting the heart, passion and love, drew the eye of all in attendance and those few poor passerby who had other business to attend to through the gathered masses. The deep hues standing in stark contrast to the aquamarine and white of not only Ispir's usual outfit but a pristine, white flower he had brought along for whoever it was he was lead to.
Sure he had arrived a little late. Huffing and puffing as the words of one Esmoria were repeated for those outside by the gathered sisters. But as the air begin to fill and sing with a swarming multitude of magically conjured butterflies Ispir couldn't help but grin like a kid in a candy store. He had met plenty of wonderful and interesting people since his.... awakening? Many of them kind, or interesting, or dangerous or beautiful enough to make a.... well... date interesting! In truth there were one or two that stood out in his heart, the thought of them causing him to shuffle his feet in anxious apprehension, and as the butterflies began to descend Ispir's eyes shone with giddyness.
One by one the magical summonings would land upon their chosen vessels. Those that were to receive guidance to one who may come to hold their heart. People would giggle and cheer before experiencing their visions, groups of friends all clinging together and happily encouraging one-another when they were chosen. Sharing hushed names among one another after receiving the glimpse of their prospective partner. Some would erupt with laughter, cheers of 'I knew it!' leaving them in elation. Others sounding out in astonished surprise of 'Really!? Him!? Her!?' and so on.
Ispir's mouth was almost dry with anxious apprehension as the butterfly swarm continued to descend, his hands flexing so much that the warmth of his palms seeped into the stem of the flower in his grasp. Held clasped before him in both hands like a heartfelt wish. Only.... for the moment to come. There! Finally!
One of those magical butterflies would swirl and sing down to him, lilting upon the breeze with grace and deft movements of it's wings. A theatrical approach befitting the Bard it sought to connect with. By now most were too transfixed by the swarm to pay much attention to those already chosen anymore, once they were sure the butterfly was not coming to them, and so Ispir giggled softly as the butterfly landed on their clasped flower in the relative privacy of the crowd. By the time it touched down the indecision of his heart had been decided and, of all those he knew, two stood as those he would like to see the most.
First was Zinnia and though they had only spent a rather long walk together she was, in truth, his first ever crush. He hadn't even known the concept before meeting her. Had never viewed people as more than friends, colleagues, patrons and strangers until she... well... crashed into him. Time with Zinnia and Seri had been both wonderful and, in a way, saddening. For it was the closest that Ispir had come to really feeling the warmth of a family since his awakening. Time with her was nice, soft, and sweet despite this odd sadness. It made a sensation like velvet curl around his heart and tie it with a bow bound shut by mesmerizing golden eyes. A slow, sweet warmth like the pouring of honey filling his heart and making him bubbly.
But it would be a lie to say she was the only one that entered his thoughts right now.
Secondly, and a bit surprising to even himself, was Vyx'aria and her.... grumpiness. Sure she was hiding things and was dangerous. Very dangerous. But he had seen how she showed emotion for him in small, subtle actions when thinking back on their adventure together. Making sure he was safe before the bandits attacked, no longer trying to outrun him with her stride, being concerned for his safety when it came to the dark. If Zinnia's call to his heart was the embrace of warm velvet and golden sunlight than Vyx'Aria's was a wary thing. A smoky, cool allure of satin hidden in darkness and shadow. In truth a cold chill of something like fear piercing through his bones, down his spine, at the thought but as he bit his lip Ispir would softly remind himself that it wasn't truly possible to control what the heart wanted.
Regardless of which way that war in his heart would have gone, however, the butterfly fluttering forth into his chest upturned the entire thing. As that soft crimson-pink apparition touched upon Ispir's chest.... it's being would flare a soft pink and then.....
It burst into aquamarine flames upon his touch.
Ispir, dumbfounded, would blink rapidly at where the butterfly had landed. He.... Had he missed the vision!? Taking in a shuddering breathe, reassuring himself that of course he had simply missed the vision. Maybe he had even chosen to forget it because it showed him someone he never expected!? His body, now coursing with an ice-cold feeling that made his fingers numb upon the flower, would be willed to shut it's eyes. Hoping the vision was yet to come or that, somehow, he could dredge up a partially forgotten memory for some indication but.... nothing.
Suddenly, he did not feel anything near so giddy or happy as he had a few moments prior. A lump forming in the back of his throat that simply would not go away no matter how many times he tried in vain to swallow it down. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. He would blink his eyes rapidly, heart beginning to pound in his chest, his face to heat up, as a wet heat gathered behind his eyes and he desperately cast his gaze around. One final hope that maybe something had gone wrong with the spell acting as a final lifeline to his emotions. But.... no.
Where once before all around the happy giggling and whispered rumors, the happy embraces of couples who had attended just to confirm their relationship, sparked a sympathetic joy in Ispir's heart. Now? Now they felt as if they were behind a thick pane of glass, out of reach, and the only thought that came to his rescue then was that surely it wasn't such a big deal? It wasn't as if those chosen by these things were DESTINED to be together.... right? A shaky inhale, breathe on the verge of hitching, that wet weight behind the eyes increasing, fingers clenching involuntarily.... then... he spied one of the sisters who had helped cast the spell and speak to the crowd. Maybe they could explain?
It was worth a shot.
Gently beginning to step forward Ispir would weave between a few people, then another set, before a wall of bodies began to move between himself and the sister. People either rushing off to find their vision-given date or clamoring to thank the sisters for bringing them together with someone already in attendance. Either way.... he could not reach her.
A cold, empty, twisting feeling churned in the pit of Ispir's stomach. Arcing up into his chest like the firm, iron fist of a tyrant trying to keep his lungs from working. His jaw set so tightly, so firmly, his teeth ached and he took a shaky step backwards. Then another... then another.... and then he began to walk. The bard's usual graceful movements stiff and leaden, choked by the weight of his own emotions as the flower slipped from his fingers to the cobblestones, forgotten as Ispir bowed his head and closed his eyes. Murmuring to himself softly.
"I'm okay..... I'm... okay."
Every word was like a billows upon the flame of sorrow engulfing his heart, however, and emotions could only be denied for so long before..... the dam burst. His heart cracked. His eyes gave way to budding tears and for the first time Ispir's voice was no longer filled with light and joy to rouse a tavern, with lilting kindness fit to lift the soul, it was simply.... there. Broken. Wavering. Choking on his own sadness as he tried in vain to reassure himself once again.
"I-I'm........"
He couldn't hide it anymore, and he would throw his head back to stare at the sky as his lips went silent, his heart saying what his voice had been denying for what felt like hours now.
Sure he had arrived a little late. Huffing and puffing as the words of one Esmoria were repeated for those outside by the gathered sisters. But as the air begin to fill and sing with a swarming multitude of magically conjured butterflies Ispir couldn't help but grin like a kid in a candy store. He had met plenty of wonderful and interesting people since his.... awakening? Many of them kind, or interesting, or dangerous or beautiful enough to make a.... well... date interesting! In truth there were one or two that stood out in his heart, the thought of them causing him to shuffle his feet in anxious apprehension, and as the butterflies began to descend Ispir's eyes shone with giddyness.
One by one the magical summonings would land upon their chosen vessels. Those that were to receive guidance to one who may come to hold their heart. People would giggle and cheer before experiencing their visions, groups of friends all clinging together and happily encouraging one-another when they were chosen. Sharing hushed names among one another after receiving the glimpse of their prospective partner. Some would erupt with laughter, cheers of 'I knew it!' leaving them in elation. Others sounding out in astonished surprise of 'Really!? Him!? Her!?' and so on.
Ispir's mouth was almost dry with anxious apprehension as the butterfly swarm continued to descend, his hands flexing so much that the warmth of his palms seeped into the stem of the flower in his grasp. Held clasped before him in both hands like a heartfelt wish. Only.... for the moment to come. There! Finally!
One of those magical butterflies would swirl and sing down to him, lilting upon the breeze with grace and deft movements of it's wings. A theatrical approach befitting the Bard it sought to connect with. By now most were too transfixed by the swarm to pay much attention to those already chosen anymore, once they were sure the butterfly was not coming to them, and so Ispir giggled softly as the butterfly landed on their clasped flower in the relative privacy of the crowd. By the time it touched down the indecision of his heart had been decided and, of all those he knew, two stood as those he would like to see the most.
First was Zinnia and though they had only spent a rather long walk together she was, in truth, his first ever crush. He hadn't even known the concept before meeting her. Had never viewed people as more than friends, colleagues, patrons and strangers until she... well... crashed into him. Time with Zinnia and Seri had been both wonderful and, in a way, saddening. For it was the closest that Ispir had come to really feeling the warmth of a family since his awakening. Time with her was nice, soft, and sweet despite this odd sadness. It made a sensation like velvet curl around his heart and tie it with a bow bound shut by mesmerizing golden eyes. A slow, sweet warmth like the pouring of honey filling his heart and making him bubbly.
But it would be a lie to say she was the only one that entered his thoughts right now.
Secondly, and a bit surprising to even himself, was Vyx'aria and her.... grumpiness. Sure she was hiding things and was dangerous. Very dangerous. But he had seen how she showed emotion for him in small, subtle actions when thinking back on their adventure together. Making sure he was safe before the bandits attacked, no longer trying to outrun him with her stride, being concerned for his safety when it came to the dark. If Zinnia's call to his heart was the embrace of warm velvet and golden sunlight than Vyx'Aria's was a wary thing. A smoky, cool allure of satin hidden in darkness and shadow. In truth a cold chill of something like fear piercing through his bones, down his spine, at the thought but as he bit his lip Ispir would softly remind himself that it wasn't truly possible to control what the heart wanted.
Regardless of which way that war in his heart would have gone, however, the butterfly fluttering forth into his chest upturned the entire thing. As that soft crimson-pink apparition touched upon Ispir's chest.... it's being would flare a soft pink and then.....
It burst into aquamarine flames upon his touch.
Ispir, dumbfounded, would blink rapidly at where the butterfly had landed. He.... Had he missed the vision!? Taking in a shuddering breathe, reassuring himself that of course he had simply missed the vision. Maybe he had even chosen to forget it because it showed him someone he never expected!? His body, now coursing with an ice-cold feeling that made his fingers numb upon the flower, would be willed to shut it's eyes. Hoping the vision was yet to come or that, somehow, he could dredge up a partially forgotten memory for some indication but.... nothing.
Suddenly, he did not feel anything near so giddy or happy as he had a few moments prior. A lump forming in the back of his throat that simply would not go away no matter how many times he tried in vain to swallow it down. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. He would blink his eyes rapidly, heart beginning to pound in his chest, his face to heat up, as a wet heat gathered behind his eyes and he desperately cast his gaze around. One final hope that maybe something had gone wrong with the spell acting as a final lifeline to his emotions. But.... no.
Where once before all around the happy giggling and whispered rumors, the happy embraces of couples who had attended just to confirm their relationship, sparked a sympathetic joy in Ispir's heart. Now? Now they felt as if they were behind a thick pane of glass, out of reach, and the only thought that came to his rescue then was that surely it wasn't such a big deal? It wasn't as if those chosen by these things were DESTINED to be together.... right? A shaky inhale, breathe on the verge of hitching, that wet weight behind the eyes increasing, fingers clenching involuntarily.... then... he spied one of the sisters who had helped cast the spell and speak to the crowd. Maybe they could explain?
It was worth a shot.
Gently beginning to step forward Ispir would weave between a few people, then another set, before a wall of bodies began to move between himself and the sister. People either rushing off to find their vision-given date or clamoring to thank the sisters for bringing them together with someone already in attendance. Either way.... he could not reach her.
A cold, empty, twisting feeling churned in the pit of Ispir's stomach. Arcing up into his chest like the firm, iron fist of a tyrant trying to keep his lungs from working. His jaw set so tightly, so firmly, his teeth ached and he took a shaky step backwards. Then another... then another.... and then he began to walk. The bard's usual graceful movements stiff and leaden, choked by the weight of his own emotions as the flower slipped from his fingers to the cobblestones, forgotten as Ispir bowed his head and closed his eyes. Murmuring to himself softly.
"I'm okay..... I'm... okay."
Every word was like a billows upon the flame of sorrow engulfing his heart, however, and emotions could only be denied for so long before..... the dam burst. His heart cracked. His eyes gave way to budding tears and for the first time Ispir's voice was no longer filled with light and joy to rouse a tavern, with lilting kindness fit to lift the soul, it was simply.... there. Broken. Wavering. Choking on his own sadness as he tried in vain to reassure himself once again.
"I-I'm........"
He couldn't hide it anymore, and he would throw his head back to stare at the sky as his lips went silent, his heart saying what his voice had been denying for what felt like hours now.
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