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- Mirja EeolaDemon Toy
- Joined : 2016-08-18
Posts : 5403
Location : Where ever a Space-girl can
Re: Norwegian Werewolf in Stadt [open]
Mon Dec 26, 2016 1:38 pm
Mirja, The Mad Wolf
Mirja allowed herself to bed led to the couch and given tea. She didn't drink it, just stared into it as the surface was distorted by tears. She had come here in such high spirits, baking a cake for her friend and hopefully getting to know her better. But it turned out her friend was the leader of all the Quincies and that she couldn't have friends like Mirja. It was a sad thought, people clung to the memory of things like it was a slight done to them personally. Mirja could never fathom that idea. Never truly understood why.
"I thought...I thought it would be fine. I have never been in any war, I have never even met a Quincy until you. I couldn't comprehend the concept of being attacked for something I had no part in. And so when the child, too young to have ever been out anywhere, shot me....his arrow didn't even scuff my skin. Were we not in the city, were I a different person, he would have died in seconds, not even an irritation. I couldn't wrap my head around exactly what drove someone to do something so reckless. And so I couldn't keep a handle on the truth, and it slipped out" she intoned, emotion leached from her voice until she was a drone.
"I hate it. I know what I am and I hate it but I hoped I could be surrounded by people who didn't know, people who were friendly and happy, and I could ignore what I was" she muttered, before looking up at Nilfhiem, and shaking her head. "I am not between anything. Whatever you have to do to me to keep your people's trust. Weither it is Maid, Slave, or Death. I can't stand living in a world were memory is given more importance than the living"
Coding Altered From: [The Frost]
- Joined : 2011-09-01
Posts : 2813
Age : 25
Location : Google Maps
Re: Norwegian Werewolf in Stadt [open]
Wed Jan 11, 2017 11:38 pm
[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]
ENTER THE DEPTHS
Artist: Mogeko Castle - Song: N/A - Word Count: N/A
Mirja was distressed, but the leader of the vandenreich’s face didn’t waver from it’s neutral firmness. This girl was probably just as strong as she was, but behind that strength there was a lack of experience. The longer the elect actually listened to mirja, the more she understood and accepted this fact. Mirja after all grew up in a very different time-period than what Niflheim herself grew up in.
One of them had grown up in a world where everything while chaotic, had hope, some semblance of order to combat the chaos. While the other was grown in a time of true chaos, where father turned on mother, and mother smothered their own children to keep them from suffering starvation. One of them had never been in war, the other had been alive for the very war that basically was the near-complete genocide of her race.
So yes, Niflheim understood Mirja’s situation more than she cared to actually admit. However, that didn’t mean she could be soft of this girl, that she could make an acception to the very rigid law’s she had laid down to keep this organization afloat to this very day and age. Because of this as the elect knew more than most, the burden of the past. How it could potentially haunt a person. However, unlike many she wasn’t a prisoner to the past. Rather she thought of the past as a guide to making a better tomorrow, for this reason her expression softened momentarily as she said.
”..I am still your friend Mirja, if i wasn’t you’d probably be in a Jail cell right now. You weren’t wrong in your handling of the situation, and it was amiable given the abruptness that it presented itself. You believe in humanity’s better nature, in the inherent goodness that does indeed lurk in each and every being’s heart of hearts. “
Niflheim’s words floated out like clear undulating chords. There was a crispness that was balanced by the matter of fact way she said it, yet there was also the softest hint of kindness, of compassion that would show mirja what she said was true. It wasn’t that they Couldn’t be friends. It was that her race came before everything else, nothing could be placed above the safety of her brethren, because the same blood that flowed through their veins, flowed through her’s as well. Their pain was her pain, their sin was ultimately her sin. Now she continued to speak a hardness in her tone when mirja spoke of slavery or death.
”..Mirja, when you die as a shinigami or a Quincy there is a very slim chance you will be reincarnated. Even then, you Aren’t You. There is no replacing the memories, the cherished loved one’s, and the time you have existed here , in this place; as Mirja. That is something this younger generation simply can’t wrap their head around with all these technological advancements. When i was a human, there was no guns, no robots , and we didn’t know of America, we simply lived as best as we could and when we died? That was it.
There are no do overs when you are gone, because even if your soul does reincarnate it’s even rarer that you will have memories of the you that exists now. This is why the quincy race bears such memories of the shinigami deep within their hearts. It isn’t because we hate shinigami, it’s because each and every one of us, especially those like me who have been a quincy since the beginning, Lost someone in that horrific war.
I swore i would never let that happen again, the bodies which in the end were piled so high that they became literal mountains of corpses. The stench was so horrid that you would retch even if you were miles away from it. Almost All of our race was wiped out following the delusional dreams of a man who was too drunk on his own power to care about the betterment of our race. Children attack you in part because of the mistrust of their parent’s and the hatred of their ancestors. They don’t know better, because they haven’t gotten ability to adeptly bury their emotions and grievances within their hearts away. The reason adults are serene is because they have had a hell of alot more time to master it.
Niflheim’s expression was still calm, but there was a weariness that sagged down into her very core. Leading the quincy was a burden she willingly bore, and she lovingly looked after. It was their job, the older generation to fix this mess. Many people in this world outstripped her in raw power, but it wasn’t power that ultimately made a good home, it was experience that was tempered by time. As the light shone on the regal being known as the elect of the quincy, her chair scraped on wood as she stood and turned her back to look out at the window. And her voice echoed once more.
”..If there comes a time where i perish for my people, i will do so willingly and i will return to the embrace of the endless void in which everything becomes meaningless. I will die knowing that i have led my people to a better place, a better tommorow. Until then though, even if i must drag my corpse from the mouth of hell itself i will survive. Also once you become a slave to another, there is no turning back, unless released you are bound. This is why Mirja, despite the exasperation you cause me, you are not my maid, my pet, my slave, or my significant other. You are a friend that i am fortunate to have found in my old age, and for this i am grateful.
Eventually as the storms batter against you, you will understand what separates your young views from the wizened old words that this old lady has imparted to you. Time, is what ultimately shapes you, it is what allowed me to become the woman i am today, and it is what will show you that believing in the good, sometimes cannot fix the bad. “
The elect’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one, her face hidden by the light that illuminated her silver-hued hair.
”..But, i hope even after the millenia i have lived, that i can be proven wrong by a young pup such as yourself. Age isn’t everything after all, even the young can teach the old new things, but remember us old folk are here because we have something left to do. A purpose that drives us, and the Quincy are mine. I view them as one would their own child, and each and every one of them is precious to me, irreplaceable to me. “
As she finished her mouth shut and silence filled the gap as she waited, with her back to mirja. Curiously wondering just what the wolf would have to say about her musings.