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 Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 6:46 pm
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Takatifu'moja
| Basic Info | Personality | Cubhood | Juvenile | Adolescent | Adult | Timeline | Photo Album | Relations/Family Tree | Pride Info | Items |
| Basic Info |
Name: Takatifu'moja
Meaning: Blessed one (Swahili/Kutu/Matengo (Uncertain))
Rank:
+ Priestess in training (Former)
+ Rogue
+ Oracle
Father: Nakta'nafasi
Mother: Habibu'binti (deceased)
Siblings:
+ Anasi - Sister (deceased)
+ Miou - ? (deceased)
+ Beela - ? (deceased)
+ Nian - ? (deceased)
Mate(s):
+ Name | Player |
Offspring:
None
Grandchildren:
None
| History Summary |
My mother was the high priestess and my father, well I never knew him.
I feel that should explain a lot about me and why I am... the way I am, I guess. I began growing up learning to be polite, but Mother and the other priestesses never smothered me. They would play with me and dress me up in pretty things. I was their pride and joy.
And then the prophecy came. I was still too young to understand what was happening, but I knew what they said. The old priest had had a vision. The ground would shake and destroy the pride unless my mother was sent to be with the goddess as an appeasement. I wasn't innocent enough to be confused. Only the sacrifice of the high priestess, the goddess' most beloved, would save the pride.
My mother called him a liar among the other priestesses, but she had no proof against him, so in the end, she let them take her. Cubs without parents were bad luck in our pride, so the following morning, they took me out to the edge of the pridelands and told me to wait for my mother to come and get me. I knew she wasn't coming and yet I still stayed, even when the earth shook beneath my paws.
My goddess came to me, then, and led me to my Abu. He doesn't like me calling him that, but deep down I know he still loves me. |
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 6:54 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:16 pm
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Takatifu'moja| Basic Info[ | Personality | Cubhood | Juvenile | Adolescent | Adult | Timeline | Photo Album | Relations/Family Tree | Pride Info | Items |
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/breedable-changing-pets/soa-god-customs-reassignment-hiring/t.5533195_860866/
Lion's Name & Owner: Nukta'nafasi / Second Chance / iTrep
Lioness' Name & Owner: Takatifu'moja / Blessed One / Reeshie Hack
Their story:
All of this is first person. i will mark when the PoV changes
Nafasi
'Why me?'
I watched her every move, remembered her every breath, knowing now, and from the moment we had met, it had always been her. Her gentle eyes, full of laughter, full of love, had shined only for me. Her fur had glowed pure in the sun, and she was beautiful in the moonlight. We ran side by side, our laughter brought us love, and our love brought us our cubs. Four of them, as beautiful and intelligent as their mother. I watched them come into this world, I cleaned them, I taught them how to hunt, to play, to laugh…
‘Papa!’
Laughter. Little cub claws skittering over loose rocks, flashing tails and scruffy fur, dirty to the point of silliness. They were all bound for baths tonight. Maybe I would sneak away, because I hated forcing them to wash (I knew how much I hated it!). They played a game of tag in the shadows of the trees about us, their paws padding across the loose rocks and dirt below them.
‘Papa! Look!’
Birds where rising from their branches above us, cries echoing through the air. My fur stood on end, body aching, and I felt something akin to fear in my chest. Why were the birds panicking?
‘PAPA!’
No.
I watched it happen, I tried to stop it. My claws raked against the shifting earth, I scrambled towards my cubs, eyes wild with fear as they cried out, as the land shifted. The trees around us moaned, and I closed my eyes as fear over took me. I felt the weight crushing me, and I felt like life was over.
No ‘papa’ now. I opened my eyes, and looked at the wreckage. Trees had fallen over each other like they had all grouped together for a nap. I felt my breath quicken. Where were my cubs? Where were our cubs!? “Anasi, Miou, Beela, Nian!?” I cried, panicking. No ‘papa’ here. I looked at the toppled trees, and scrambled to them, even as my body ached (a small tree had landed on me, but shifted around during the shake). My back felt shattered and my sides burned like they were on fire. But I didn’t care, all that mattered were the cubs and my love Salaa.
I crawled around on the trees, and found a spot where they formed a cave almost. I quickly, haphazardly crawled in and cried out my cubs names. The wood echoed my voice, taunting me with their beautiful names, and I felt illness rising in my heart, in my throat, burning me. No. They had to be fine. But as I squeezed between the trunks of the trees, traveling this ‘cave’, I found no cubs…only shells. Their beautiful bodies broken and thrown carelessly around. What cruel being could enjoy this? Who would want my cubs dead? Why had the gods taken them away? I clawed at the bark, tearing it away so I could pull each of my children from the wreckage. I would carry each cold, limp body from that room of death, and rest them outside, in the sun that blinked at me through the clouds as they drifted along. Four cubs, dead, all dead. I cried then, screaming to the sky, to the earth, to everything. Cursing them. Everything was normal for the sky, it did not suffer as I had, the clouds still basked happily in their sea of blue, and the sun stared down at me and my cubs without a wink of sadness.
Oh, Salaa--
Salaa!
The panic rose again, and I looked at the shells of my children, body shaking with horror and anger and sadness, then I whispered my good byes, and ran. I ran till my heart felt like it would give out, and my lungs felt like they were being squeezed shut. I hurt more now, after my crawling through those broken trees, but I wouldn’t slow.
Not till I saw Salaa.
…
Our cave, a hollowed out area of ground underneath a tree not far from where the cubs and I had been at, was collapsed. The ground had swallowed it, and the tree was now leaning to the left, as if sad and mourning what had happened. But I wouldn’t believe it, surely she had gotten out. But as I called her name, as I paced and searched for her body, I came to realize…she was dead too.
They were all dead.
Dead.
I was alone…
The blackness swallowed me as I stood there, it ate at my sight, it swallowed me up, and then I was falling, and I heard their voices.
‘Papa, look!’
‘Aren’t they beautiful, Nafasi?’
‘I love you, Nafasi.’
‘Papa, will I be big like you’
‘Papa’ ‘Nafasi’ ‘Papa’ ‘Nafasi’
PAPANAFASIPAPANAFASIPAPANAFASI!!!
NO!
I jolt from my sleep, tortured by that dream again and again. But it seems good that I am awake now, as the sun is just rising, and it would be best to move before the heat follows. So I rise from my spot, curled up beside a rock that had been warm and comfortable when I fell asleep, but was no chilled from the night. There was a little pool here, and shrubby grasses as well. It was comfortable, and I knew I could easily settle in here….
But I needed to move. Towards what, towards where, I wasn’t sure, not yet, but I felt the urge to keep walking, to keep running, and until that urge was gone, I wouldn’t be able to settle in. So I said a silent good bye to my spot of rest, and a good bye to my dreams ('til they came again), then turned away from the sun. I stared at my shadow, long and thin, wavering before me as I walked, and felt the sun warming my back as it rose. My days were empty now, my world was shattered and broken, and I had found no way to heal it. I ate, I drank, I slept and I breathed. I did it all for a simple reason.
I did it for the dreams.
I lived for my sleep, for my dreams, for the images of my family. That was my world now, a world only visible in slumber. Many days had passed since the earthquake, and I had passed many families, broken and crying, but I never met anyone who could help me, heal me. They all looked at me with pity, and I looked at them in the same way. We suffered the same way, how could we heal each other?
This day was hot, too hot, but I moved on, even as the sun beat down on me, now right over head, and my walking slowed considerably, and my breathing was slow, panting. I barely heard her voice over the sound of my heart beating.
‘Sir…sir….’
It was old, weak, and I looked to the left, then the right, and glimpsed a pale body curled up near a rock, trying to hide in the shade, away from the sweltering sun. She was thin and frail with an old face, full of sadness and happiness and wisdom. Her eyes glowed with golden light, and she looked at me with a look that begged ‘help’. I had seen the face so many times before, but I had never stopped, because I couldn’t help them, because I needed help first.
But she looked near death, and I wouldn’t let her die.
“Kangwe’masa,” I said in a dried husk of a voice, I spoke little these days, and smiled less, but I attempted both for this old one’s sake. She laughed a little at me, and shook her head, as if insulted (though she still had the glow in her eyes).
“I am not that old, boy, and no mother either.” she sighed and struggled to her paws, her whole body white and clean, even though she had surely been resting in the dust for a long while. But I was to tired to really try and care over such a silly thing. I gave her another rusty smile, and she smiled back. There was a silence then, and I felt foolish. Why was I hear?
“Masa,” I asked gently, and she tsked.
“Then, what shall I call you,” I whispered, and she laughed again. Why so much laughter? There was so much death, how could she smile? But smiling she was, and she informed me that her name was ‘Upole’. It was a sweet name, and I repeated it carefully, as to pronounce it right.
“Well, Upole,” I said softly, careful not to insult her, though it seemed she was hard to insult, “What can I help you with?”
“I am tired and weak, Nukta’nafasi,” I wondered if at some point I had mentioned my name, because she had clearly said it, and I convinced my self I must have. I had never met her before now. “And I am very hungry, and thirsty, the sun is hot today, and it weakens me even more. I ask for your help, if you will give it. I cannot give much in return, weak as I am right now, but--”
“I will help,” I wanted to bask in the glow of her eyes for just a little longer, because it felt so healing, there was no loss in her eyes, like all the eyes I had seen as I traveled. And so it was that I helped this old lioness. She was smart and sarcastic, and enjoyed laughing and teasing me. She thanked me for my generous help again and again as we moved, and since the day had been so hot, I had not traveled far from the water hole I had slept at, so when the day was growing short, we traveled backwards. I didn’t mention this, though I did mention that Upole looked much better now that she had a hare in her belly. She told me she did, but she still leaned against me from time to time, as the heat and length of the day caught up with her bones.
The pool had grown smaller over the day, but was still there, if it was barely a puddle now, and she lapped from it eagerly. I watched her, and then took a turn at the water once she was resting beside the rock I had slept against the day before. It was a long day, and now the night was rising. The moon was bleeding silver across the savannah, and I watched it rise, feeling sadness rise in my heart. The dream I would have tonight would be full of lonliness, I could feel it, and I almost wished not to sleep. But seeing my family, even in sadness, was better then not at all.
“Do not be sad, Nafasi,” Upole whispered as I lay down beside her, “It will all be fine.”
“Nothing will be fine, masa-Upole,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. I felt her nose press against the spot behind my ear, so much like Salaa had when she was alive that I sighed with a smile, and fell asleep.
The dream did come, but it was beautiful. Not a memory like the others, but almost like a story. I saw my cubs and my Salaa in the distance, laughing and playing. I felt no urge to go to them, and watched from the rock I was on. They would look my way and smile, but they knew that they couldn’t go to me either. But neither of us were sad.
‘See, Nafasi?’ I glanced to the side, and jumped at the site of Upole, and tumbled from my rock and--
Awoke.
I glanced to my left, where Upole had been, and saw she was gone. I struggled to my paws, shaking sleep from my fur like dust, and caught a flash of white near the water puddle. But when I focused on it, I saw no old lioness, but a young beautiful lioness with shaggy fur and a thick tail. Her ears were perked forward, and she glanced over her shoulder at me. She had Upole’s golden eyes, and her smile, and I found my self thinking that this was Upole.
“Nafasi,” she said happily, and bowed her head as I stumbled in a daze to her side. My jaw must have been touching the ground because she tapped her paw against it, snapping my mouth shut. “You will catch fireflies in that if you gape like so.”
“Upole?” I asked, confused. Where was the old mother I had helped earlier? How could she be so young.
“Yes. I am Upole. I know, it is kind of a difference. But I was weak before. I did not lie to you, I was very weak. I came to this plane to help my children during their struggle against the earths rumbling, but I lost my way and fell weak under the sun.” She glanced at the moon and smiled, “The night is my time of strength, you see? I was so weak when you found me, I feared death. So many had ignored me as they passed. I thought you would too…but you have a compassion in you. I saw it. You helped me. And now, Nukta’nafasi,” her voice was so gently, it soothed me. I was barely aware that she was claiming she wasn’t a lion, or at least a normal lion, and it didn’t much matter any way, she had those eyes and she captured me with them, eased my pain. “I must go, I have much to fix, things are wrong with my children, terrible things have happened since I last came to them, but I want to give you a gift, as a thank you.”
A gift? I frowned and shook my head, I needed no gift. Only her to stay and heal me.
“I do not--”
“Nafasi, I know what you want, but I can’t stay. So instead, I will promise you peace, I will promise you that the pain you are suffering from will be healed. Just keep running, keeping going like you were. And keep your compassion.”
Her fur smelled like water and lilacs, and I drowned in it as she pressed me close, her nose nuzzling behind my ear. And then there was sleep.
She was gone the next day, and I ached from the lose of happiness. But I kept going, I waited for this gift to appear.
It seemed as if I was a fool though, for there was no gift, and I was slowly reverting, the small hope I had was being eaten by constant nightmares, by bitter hate. I was alone, and there was no change, would be no change to it.
Days went on, and heat burned me, my paws were blood, and still I moved.
The wavering figure on the horizion bothered me when I saw it. What could it be, was it a mirage, or beast? A spirit? I couldn’t tell clearly, but it was stumbling my way through the heat, And I felt an illness, so like the one I had felt when I crawled through those trees, in my stomach. It was a cub. She was swaying heavily, left, then right, then left. She would stumble and raise her head to the sky, then trip and fall, then push herself up.
So small. I felt something break in me, piercing me, forcing me to run, to catch her as she stumbled, as she fell again. Her body lay limp as I came up beside her. She was breathing, but just barely, and I thought for a moment I was seeing a ghost.
“Ana--” I started, but it wasn’t my cub, not my Anasi, she looked like me, but she was different as well. I frowned, looking around for her family, maybe they were a little ways off. Surely the shake had not spread this far. But maybe it had. Maybe she was alone…
I lifted the cub, carefully biting down on her neck to carry her. Water. She needed water, then I would ask her where her family was. But I didn’t much care for that little part, all I cared about was not letting her die. I would not let anyone die again.
Tifu
'Alone...'
I was born to serve the goddess who was our mother.
At least, that was what I had been told until Mama gave her life for the rest of our pride. Mama was a priestess for our goddess, her favorite priestess, in fact, and I always felt proud to be her daughter! And I guess that because she was my mama, that meant I'd be a priestess, too. Some of the other cubs thought it would be such a boring job, but I liked it; learning the prayers and blessings and getting to play with the other daughters, we were very important! But I was the blessed one, I was Takatifu'moja. My mama said she dreamed about the goddess giving her a girl-child, one to follow in her footsteps, and because our goddess, Upole, had given her the dream, she gave me my special name. So that made me extra special, I guess. Of course, Mama always reminded me not to be mean, because Upole wanted me to be just as gentle as her.
I was pampered, but not spoiled, because Mama still made me do chores and made me take baths. And I learned really fast, something my mama was always saying was a sign that I had really been blessed by the goddess.
I was happy.
Until the foretelling...
My mama may have been the favorite priestess, but it was our only priest who could see things beyond. He told of a time of great suffering, after the time when the great earth trembled under the hooves of a thousand spirit-beasts. He said that only the sacrifice of the purest of souls could save the pride, only Upole’Hahabi’s favorite priestess. I remember hearing some of the other females scorning the prophesy, saying that he had his own plans, that he was lying (how could our head priest lie though?), whatever that meant. I wasn't allowed to know about any of that, but I found out anyways. I'm a good listener. I had a bad feeling though, deep down in my belly, and I slept uneasily every night, haunted by scary dreams in which my mama was gone and I was alone.
So one morning, when I woke up, the priestesses were crying a lot, I knew something was wrong. I ran around, yelling for Mama, and asked everyone! They all looked me, all so sad. Why were they sad!? Where was Mama? They only cried, and soon I found out…my mama was gone.
Cubs weren't allowed to not have parents, claimed my priest, and none of the mothers would take me (why? Why wouldn‘t they take me!?), so they took me out of the pridelands and told me to wait there, that my mama was coming to get me. They didn't know I knew that my mama was dead. They had killed her, I knew it. That was why they were so sad. I was so lonely…I wish I had known my papa, it would have been nice to have known who he was before I had to leave.
I was scared, really really scared. I knew the goddess should protect me, but I missed my mama and my home and I didn't want to be alone. So, even though I knew Mama wasn't coming to get me, I curled up where they had left me. Alone and scared...
I wish I had my papa.
He would be strong and he would protect me…he would have saved mama.
Tifu
'Papa!'
’Little one, little one…follow. Follow me…
I was scared at first. Who was this person? I couldn’t see her, I could hear her though. She called to me, and I raised my head, eyes wide and afraid. But I saw her soft fur, her golden eyes, her gentle smile, and she nodded to me. I knew who she was. “Hababi’Upole,” I whispered. The Goddess was before me, and I tried my best to act correctly, stumbling to my paws and bowing, trying to be respectful. The high priest always said she was a strict Goddess, but she only laughed at my silly fumbles, fumbles that would have been trouble. She was more like what my mama said she would be like. Sweet and gentle and caring. Like Mama.
’Little one, little Tifu,’, her voice was so soft, it quelled all the sadness I felt for my lost mama, and I looked into her loving eyes, ’Follow me, I an going to bring you a father. ‘
A papa? I felt a spur of joy race down my body, and grinned. Would he be a strong papa, with a huge mane and heavy body. Or would be wry and old like the head Priest. Or young and playful like my mama? I couldn’t imagine a mean father though. My papa was a gift from Upole. He would be nice.
So I followed her, stumbling along. She was always too far ahead to talk to after our first meeting, and I would stumble along, wishing to talk, but instead imagining my father. I imagined big paws that would hold me close, and a warm tongue to clean me, I imagined a fuzzy tangly mane that I could play with. Every day got hotter and hotter, but the Goddess would bring me to places of rest, with water and shade. I would play and laugh in the water, and could just glimpse her in my eye, watching me with a smile.
It lasted several long days, and I grew bored of walking, of imagining. I was too excited, I couldn’t wait to see Papa! I would show him all my prayers I had remembered, and sing for him and play with him and show him my pouncing skills! He would be so proud of me.
‘Takatifu'moja…’ I looked up from my day-dream, and there was Upole, close again, and I smelled flowers, and drowned in them, then grinned at her. Was my father here? ’I must go, but just go forward, and your father will be there…’ I frowned, fear rising in my little chest. Alone!? I hated being alone. Was she lying like the priest had lied, was I supposed to have traveled so far only to die? There was no father.
But she licked me, and it was an odd tingly feeling, not real, but not not real. ’He will be there, but I am weak, my child, so trust me and go forward.’
I looked into those gentle golden eyes and inhaled, puffing my chest out, as if I wasn’t afraid, ashamed I had though so horribly of my Goddess.
So I was alone, stumbling along. I cried as my feet began to ache, I was tired and hungry, and as the days passed I felt weaker and weaker, and I could see something shifting ahead of me. Upole? No, it wasn't her. It was tall, and strong looking. Papa, I gasped to myself, and sped up my pace. My paws fumbled often, and they ached so bad, but I could see him now, his worried eyes…
His eyes….
I felt so heavy, and the ground was too hot. I lapsed into darkness, just as I saw him beside me.
There was water on my face, and I licked at it, and cried. Water, it was so good. There was a sigh of relief, and a warm real tongue pressed against the side of my head. I coughed as I swallowed more offered water, and rolled away from the paws that held me. To warm.
“Careful.” said a cracky voice. I groaned and cried again. A voice. A papa voice.
“Papa,” I whispered and looked up into warm, worried purply eyes. They were like mine. “Papa,” I cried again, and he looked confused, but pulled me close again and continued to bathe me. The silence was so happy, so perfect. I just had to purr! He jolted a little at this, I wondered why, but he slowly continued to clean.
Papa sure was jumpy.
The days after were spent feeding me and making sure I was fine. He always telling me not to call him abu-Nafasi, because he was not my father. But every time he said it, I laughed. Upole told me she would give me my papa.
Nafasi was my papa.
I could see he was because of the smile in his eyes every night when I curled up beside him.
He was my abu-Nafasi. |
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:24 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:25 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:26 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:27 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:31 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:36 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:41 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:42 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:45 pm
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