[ Black Swan is no stranger to traveling between worlds, though the method this time had been novel: a vision of a tree, and a subtle pull that drew her to a new world and a forest spirit named Gloambristle. Medeas, the first of all worlds (or so he had claimed) and its ancestral Grove had opened their gates to Otherworlders. She could have refused the pull to travel here, she thinks, but why refuse, when she had sensed such incredible energy beyond the tree? Why refuse, when her near-silent steps take her deeper into a Grove lit bright with magic, populated by spirits that shine like pearls in starlight? Why refuse, when she has found a perfectly curious world brimming with potential?
So when a charming little creature asks for a story, who is Black Swan to say no?
She coaxes the Glimmerpelt up to wind around her shoulders, its paws on her veil, as she starts telling it a story, her voice soft and musical. ]
Let me tell you a tale of a heroic raccoon that saved a place called the Land of Dreams...
[ (She may be playing with the truth a little. Metaphor is a wonderful tool.)
With the deer and the owl at her side, Black Swan stops to pick moonlight berries and golden acorns, holding them out in her gloved hands for the animal spirits to feed upon. ]
This raccoon wielded many weapons, but fiercest among all was their mighty baseball bat. Many call them the Galactic Baseballer. And one day, they came across a land in peril; a Land of Dreams, a land where anybody could live in a moment of bliss for as long as they liked. But shadows were growing in this land, people that whispered and plotted, people that wanted to use the power of this land to make something entirely different. And a grey raven that sat above it all, dreaming of a better world, but blind to the fact that plan would hurt far more than it helped.
[ Sensing another presence nearby, Black Swan glances over and smiles, indulgent and gentle, greeting the other newcomer. The Glimmerpelt on her shoulders wriggles excitedly, tail waving, and the Twinklekin chatter happily. ]
But perhaps my story is a little convoluted. Perhaps you have your own story to share?
✘ ⸻ the night procession ii
[ Deeper into the Grove, Black Swan had watched idly as others had encountered the magnificent Glimmerhorn and the Astral Fox. Spirits separated from their bodies, they had set about helping, visions of their inner worlds dancing about them. A beautiful sight, especially for a Memokeeper like herself, an entity whose job it was to collect and preserve memories.
Finally, she engages with the Glimmerhorn herself, and then the Astral Fox, though like the others, Black Swan's spirit does not separate. She is a spirit, a memetic entity that exists as a reflection of the presence of others, and the physical form that she presents is merely the image she chooses to project.
So, with her own images floating around her, Black Swan collects shooting stars. Beneath her, a young child weeps at the bedside of a sleeping old woman. A teenager with fire in her eyes and determination in her heart seeks out a garden. And Black Swan winds up drifting closer to another spirit, movements as elegant and graceful as a dancer in the air, taking their hand with a low laugh. Above them, starlight blazes in long trails, and notes of music chime melodiously. ]
Careful. If you keep spinning like that, you're likely to lose control of your trajectory and wind up inside a tree.
✘ ⸻ the cascadefolk
[ She's always loved being near water; there's something peaceful about the lapping of waves against shore or the burble of a river. In many cultures, water represents emotions and dreams, the running current of hearts and minds, a reflection of the world. The streams here are particularly beautiful, clear blue lit with the energy they call Bios, delicate flowers growing on the water's edges.
With a gourd given to her by one of the Cascadefolk, Black Swan kneels next to a gentle stream, her veil shading her eyes as she gathers the Twilit water. Curiously, she dips her fingertips into the stream, feeling the rushing Bios.
When she speaks to the person next to her, it's with a thoughtful hum. ]
It seems not all is peaceful here. A woman who seeks to be a dictator, an unknown group arriving soon with unknown intentions.
[ There's a low note of interest in her voice, a sly twist of amusement. She has no personal stake in this world, but she does so enjoy events that lead to the formation of strong, unique memories. ]
What fascinating timing, for us to be invited here just as chaos rears its head.
✘ ⸻ wildcard
[ ooc: tl;dr: Black Swan is a spiritual entity whose job it is to preserve memories, she's either flirting relentlessly or just sounds like she's flirting and there's no way to tell the difference, and she's peak lawful neutral. I'm also happy to write up starters for other sections if people are interested in doing those with Black Swan! ]
black swan | honkai: star rail
[ Black Swan is no stranger to traveling between worlds, though the method this time had been novel: a vision of a tree, and a subtle pull that drew her to a new world and a forest spirit named Gloambristle. Medeas, the first of all worlds (or so he had claimed) and its ancestral Grove had opened their gates to Otherworlders. She could have refused the pull to travel here, she thinks, but why refuse, when she had sensed such incredible energy beyond the tree? Why refuse, when her near-silent steps take her deeper into a Grove lit bright with magic, populated by spirits that shine like pearls in starlight? Why refuse, when she has found a perfectly curious world brimming with potential?
So when a charming little creature asks for a story, who is Black Swan to say no?
She coaxes the Glimmerpelt up to wind around her shoulders, its paws on her veil, as she starts telling it a story, her voice soft and musical. ]
Let me tell you a tale of a heroic raccoon that saved a place called the Land of Dreams...
[ (She may be playing with the truth a little. Metaphor is a wonderful tool.)
With the deer and the owl at her side, Black Swan stops to pick moonlight berries and golden acorns, holding them out in her gloved hands for the animal spirits to feed upon. ]
This raccoon wielded many weapons, but fiercest among all was their mighty baseball bat. Many call them the Galactic Baseballer. And one day, they came across a land in peril; a Land of Dreams, a land where anybody could live in a moment of bliss for as long as they liked. But shadows were growing in this land, people that whispered and plotted, people that wanted to use the power of this land to make something entirely different. And a grey raven that sat above it all, dreaming of a better world, but blind to the fact that plan would hurt far more than it helped.
[ Sensing another presence nearby, Black Swan glances over and smiles, indulgent and gentle, greeting the other newcomer. The Glimmerpelt on her shoulders wriggles excitedly, tail waving, and the Twinklekin chatter happily. ]
But perhaps my story is a little convoluted. Perhaps you have your own story to share?
[ Deeper into the Grove, Black Swan had watched idly as others had encountered the magnificent Glimmerhorn and the Astral Fox. Spirits separated from their bodies, they had set about helping, visions of their inner worlds dancing about them. A beautiful sight, especially for a Memokeeper like herself, an entity whose job it was to collect and preserve memories.
Finally, she engages with the Glimmerhorn herself, and then the Astral Fox, though like the others, Black Swan's spirit does not separate. She is a spirit, a memetic entity that exists as a reflection of the presence of others, and the physical form that she presents is merely the image she chooses to project.
So, with her own images floating around her, Black Swan collects shooting stars. Beneath her, a young child weeps at the bedside of a sleeping old woman. A teenager with fire in her eyes and determination in her heart seeks out a garden. And Black Swan winds up drifting closer to another spirit, movements as elegant and graceful as a dancer in the air, taking their hand with a low laugh. Above them, starlight blazes in long trails, and notes of music chime melodiously. ]
Careful. If you keep spinning like that, you're likely to lose control of your trajectory and wind up inside a tree.
[ She's always loved being near water; there's something peaceful about the lapping of waves against shore or the burble of a river. In many cultures, water represents emotions and dreams, the running current of hearts and minds, a reflection of the world. The streams here are particularly beautiful, clear blue lit with the energy they call Bios, delicate flowers growing on the water's edges.
With a gourd given to her by one of the Cascadefolk, Black Swan kneels next to a gentle stream, her veil shading her eyes as she gathers the Twilit water. Curiously, she dips her fingertips into the stream, feeling the rushing Bios.
When she speaks to the person next to her, it's with a thoughtful hum. ]
It seems not all is peaceful here. A woman who seeks to be a dictator, an unknown group arriving soon with unknown intentions.
[ There's a low note of interest in her voice, a sly twist of amusement. She has no personal stake in this world, but she does so enjoy events that lead to the formation of strong, unique memories. ]
What fascinating timing, for us to be invited here just as chaos rears its head.
[ ooc: tl;dr: Black Swan is a spiritual entity whose job it is to preserve memories, she's either flirting relentlessly or just sounds like she's flirting and there's no way to tell the difference, and she's peak lawful neutral. I'm also happy to write up starters for other sections if people are interested in doing those with Black Swan! ]