Mugwump
Pet Name: Mugwump
Owner: Apache
Theme / Type: Tropical Kohal
Born: January 6, 2011
Gender: Female
MisticPal Name: Fortitude
MisticPal Age: 5009 Days
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 10 / 10
Strength: 7
Defense: 3
Speed: 4
Intellect: 1
Misticpower: 4
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1254 [ View Foods ]
I watch the pendulum
swinging back and forth.
Its insignificant vibrations, created by its perpetual movement,
reverberate through me. Watching and waiting.
My thoughts are caught on what is beyond, and what significance such a simple toy could have.
To give significance is to have significance, I think, so I decide that this thing is important.
Back, and forth... back, and forth. Thrumming through me, solid, heavy thuds.
Not unlike a heartbeat.
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"When the cacophony of night begins to toll the stars, I step down from my burnished chariot and traipse from comfort into chaos."
ID No. 8F
Mugwump; "neutral, independent"
curious || insecure || blunt || wary
"The Wanderer"
Mugwump was one of many discarded by her creator. She feels she was not meant to be a part of this world and has trouble defining and understanding not only herself, but the very world she walks in. She has been wandering for many a day. Her body reveals this; she is covered in scars, marks, and faded spots.
She has spent her entire life wandering, preferring not to settle. She is restless and uncomfortable in her body. Mugwump is, in truth, genderless, and has chosen for no particular reason to identify as female.
She has come across many different people in her travels, and yet she is no closer to identifying with any of them. It does not help that she is prone to jealousy, judgement, stubbornness, and candidness. She abhors repetitiveness and will ignore you if you ask her to repeat something, and despises trivialness in any form.
Beyond this, she is perturbed by moral indecision and has trouble discerning right from wrong. This may be because she is incapable of feeling pain.
In her quietest moments she will beg for answers, and always is rewarded with silence. She is bitter at her heart, as she feels discarded and overlooked. She is afraid, in a way, that she was never supposed to have existed, and wonders most of all what will happen when she no longer occupies her body. While she is foremost afraid of nonexistence, beneath her lies a quieter, yet grander fear: what if she has been sentenced to walk this world, as she is now, forever?
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Criss, cross,
the valiant bridge sways,
rope banisters click together,
swaying with the rhythm of my footsteps.
I, in unabashed courage, droop my head and look below
at ocean torrents swirling in a blackened rage.
Voices draw me close
closer,
and into the depths I nearly plunge
head over heels to my doom, but I resist.
The planks tighten and shiver with indecision,
as the wind whips them voraciously, begging useless fodder.
I tell the bridge, hold me tight,
this moment is to be the moment of devotion,
devotion of that final step,
and I will continue if the rope bounds me tight, secure.
So around winds it, around and around,
binding me tight, and I think,
too tight, I cannot walk,
and too late it is I've assured my own destruction.
Quickly the traitorous planks spill apart, and down I plunge,
only to be caught quite surprisingly in the sea's embrace.
It's not a hungry thing at all, and I,
completely swathed in its redeeming mercy,
hear it peck my ears with a secret,
a little seed planted deep in the pots of knowing.
And no I say, to keep the starving wind from hearing it,
the sea is not a hungry thing at all.
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I remember the very day the frigid Queen rose me up from her hallowed grounds. I remember jumping into existence, a soul pulled from the cosmos, (and this is an evil thing, to steal a passing soul). I remember being sown into an empty vessel, knitted of coal and stone. A vessel I would encompass for the rest of my days.
This was not my fate. I was to wander and grow elsewhere. But she interrupted this process.
I remember... the day of my birth? And under such unfortunate circumstances, I recall, for we all were cast from the Queen's grace quickly, sent to find homes afar. To be found or not to be found. I say this because while others were seen and taken to warmer lands, I was left behind.
So I left her palace alone and off a-wandering I went.
[Time passed, without grace.]
Travel I did and traveled far. Experience was a cruel teacher, for not all that I met were kind to the purposeless wanderer. I had learned... so many things.
Hate, I had learned hate. I hated many-a thing while I wandered. I hated my empty shell of a body, for I knew, somehow, that this was not life. I met things that breathed, thus I realized that I could not breath. I saw things that grew, and I wondered why I did not grow. I heard of things that loved, and I knew that I did not love. I envied them all, for they understood, and I did not.
Yet, with more significance I learned of hearts and how they were the essence of a thing. All of the goodness in a thing could be found there, as well as the darker, scarier parts of a thing.
I felt my chest and in my solitude I whispered, "Do I have a heart?" My voice was like ice; fragile and meek. So full of hope...
I have hardly spoken since, and that was a long, long time ago.
~
Mugwump belongs to Apache.
Renamed Celebration -> Mugwump
[Adopted from Dragonias as a Tropical Kohal]
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