“Wind's Four Quarters, Air and Fire.Earth and water, hear my desire. Grant my plea who stands alone. Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone...
- Southern wind, blow hot blow hard!
- Fan my courage to a flame,
- Southern wind, be guide and guard,
- Add your bravery to my name.
- Let my will and yours be twinned,
- Warrior of the Southern Wind!
|
|
Overview
|
|
RP Hooks
|
- If you see anything here that intrigues you, page me. There are stories in the unlikeliest of places.
|
Dramatis Personae
|
- Eastern Wind
|
Innocence. Purity.
- Tabitha - Healer, Cleanser, Friend, and Guide. Maiden. Though purity comes in unusual ways.
|
- Southern Wind
|
Courage. Strength.
|
|
- Western Wind
|
Perseverance. Guidance.
|
- Northern Wind
|
Wisdom. Death.
|
|
Notable Stats
|
|
Gallery
|
[[Image:|x175px]]
[[Image:|x150px]]
|
|
Brinne Acacia O'Briain
|
[[Image:|280px|center]]
|
Date of Birth:
|
Not polite to ask.
|
Apparent Age:
|
19
|
Occupation:
|
Parks and Recreation (?)
|
Demeanor:
|
Celebrant
|
Nature:
|
Guardian
|
|
|
Soundtrack
|
Wind's Four Quarters - Heather Alexander
- Western wind blow stark, blow strong.
- Grant me arm and mind of steel!
- On a road both hard and long
- Mother, hear me where I kneel.
- Let no weakness on my quest
- Hinder me, Wind of the West.
Beautiful Ones - Poets of the Fall
- Flies with a broken wing, she's ever so graceful,
- So like an Angel, but I see,
- Tears flow quietly...
- The troubles she's seen this spring,
- When nothing comes dancing...
- Paying a handsome fee, and still she smiles at me...
You're Still Here - Poets of the Fall
- Mercury dances in its skyscraper cell,
- Rising and falling like rhapsody.
- And I see winter's broken like lace,
- In time for a celebration...
- Thaw wails inside the walls,
- And laughs in the corners...
- Delighting in its evident victory.
Where Do We Draw The Line? - Poets of the Fall
- The dance of flames and shadows in the street
- Make poetry nobody's ever heard...
- The weight of lonelinesss stands on your feet
- The cage already there around the bird.
Rewind - Poets of the Fall
- If life itself has a meaning
- Is it anything more than what we choose to call it?
- Sweet words make appealing,
- But they only serve to mask
- the smell of what you buried.
|
|