[Active] Nearly-Never Speaks, Last Turn

[Chimerical Beast]

I am currently working on obtaining Nearly-Never Speaks

I want Nearly-Never Speaks to be a semi-custom songmeti done by and be blue, so I have deliberately not imagined a design for her. The song is Sound of Silence.

Status: Have the funds. Just need a slot.

Semi-Custom Request
username: Quiet_Wolf
kin name: Nearly-Never Speaks
kin species: Kimeti
gender: Female
growing or non: Non
request: The Sound of Silence (it also has the lyrics) and a Picture
anything special about your request (RP need, etc.): Quest thread here, I've tried to get her several times

I'm throwing in a little extra: 200k for unedited, 250k for edited  

[Chimerical Beast]

Name: Nearly-Never Speaks
Sex: Doe
Naming Dream:
Suns and moons before my time, I will my eyes open and press through the green film of my sac. Looking about me, I see browns from sandy to deep bark. There are patches of dead leaves and drying grass, and I know that where the grass grows, I should walk.
The wind shushes past my ear, and I step with thump and tap; gush and suck; tack and tomp. Air whistles entering and leaving my chest. And if I listen very, very closely, I believe I can hear the push and pull of blood in my veins.
I open my mouth with a slight pop, but Motherfather makes me shut it again.
No. Shhh, listen.
So I do. I keep walking, and I find a great tree. Its branches are heavy with leaves, and the rub together in a soothing up-down tempo. Beneath, above, between the leaves the boughs creak like old knees on a cold night.
A whip-whip-whip startles me and I duck, but it is only a little bird alighting on a branch. It preens itself for a moment, then puffs up its little chest like a swamp-bubble about to breach. Churr-churr-churr-tweeeeeee!
I am about to answer, but Motherfather stops my air.
No. Shhh, listen.
Beyond the great tree and its kin is a cliff face. I see a path that is winding and steep, but possible. The rough stone holds fast against my hooves, and sand crunches beneath my step. Small rocks run off the side of the trail and tink-tink-tinkle their way down. When I reach the top, breathing in gasps and gulps, I push a boulder off the edge. The sound it makes is delightful.
Soon enough, the ground gradually slopes back down to the rest of the swamp. But now, the sun is covered by clouds, thick and heavy. It begins to rain. The rain speaks three tongues: when falling on stone and wood and dry earth, it is dumdumdumdum; landing on water and mud, it is whissssssshhhhhhh; hitting leaves, it is patatatat.
Then, there is a sound that comes from nowhere and everywhere. It is never the same sound twice, and it rips open the sky with streaks of light. My heart aches with fear and I go cold, I am about to scream when Motherfather stops me.
No. Shhh, listen.
I do, but not before finding a hollow log to hide in. I am just small enough to fit. After a few long moments, the sky-sounds are not so scary, and eventually they fade away. The rain stops, and I crawl back outside.
Now it is dark, but it is not quiet. A thousand things chirp and buzz and cackle. Nighttime is speaktime.
Yes. Now, you may speak.
I begin to sing.  

[Chimerical Beast]

Personality:
I imagine her as a 'mute by choice' individual. She's under the impression that by not making much noise herself, she hears more. She has keen observation skills and is an incorrigible spy/eavesdropper. I think the only time she makes noise is at the end of the day, when she sings about something she's seen or heard. I don't think she does this within earshot of anyone; maybe she thinks she's sing to the swamp itself.  

[Chimerical Beast]

Last Turn (this will take a while, as I have no idea what kind of kin Last Turn is).

The Mother-Father gave us new forms and a way to forget.
Each would come in turn to lay down their old bodies, their knowledge, their lives.
After the Journey, we would come back for them.
I saw my lives hanging before me, waiting for this next one to take its place beside them.
I do not want to play this game anymore.
I ran through them all; let them cling to me, stack like snowflakes falling on stones.
Unyielding, I went to Mother-Father for the next Venture.
Mother-Father smiled softly, placing the final skin upon me.
“Very well, child. One last turn.”  

[Chimerical Beast]

Last Turn has gender and species disphoria, which (s)he attributes to having lived too many times. Though (s)he feels a stronger pull to certain species, (s)he isn't just one thing. (S)he has the same problem when it comes to gender (if (s)he were a human, (s)he might be called an androgyne).  

[Chimerical Beast]

Totoma name: Undeniable
Personality Concept in three words or less: Impressively headstrong
Short paragraph about how your Totoma came by their name:
She had suffered the misfortune of losing her mother before she could truly stand on her own, and though she managed to survive, her body was forever stunted due to both the hardships it had endured and simple malnutrition. She was no great hunter, tracker, or singer, and to her it seemed as if she were doomed to a life or useless, and a death of nameless disgrace. The other Totoma she encountered all but refused to acknowledge her very existence. At a great meeting of her kin, not a one seemed to have time for her.
Climbing her way up a pile of slag onto a small cliff, she began to scream. “I exist!” she cried. A few heads turned, but quickly lost interest. She didn’t stop. “I exist! I exist! I exist!” For three days and two nights, she continued to cry out to them, pausing only to take a mouthful of snow when the blood in her overused throat became too much to bear. On the third night, she collapsed, and her limp body tumbled down the slag heap. When she awoke the next morning, she looked about her in humiliation and despair. “I exi-!”
An elder cut her off. “Undeniably,” he said.

Totoma name: Hears Other Voices
Personality Concept in three words or less: Delusional or clairaudient
Short paragraph about how your Totoma came by their name:
(Told in the form of a Cree naming poem)
His name tells of how it was with him
There were nights when it was silent to our ears
He would go away from us
Stand, sit, or fall back
And for a time, there would be no sound
Then, he would speak
(Or if he suspected he was not alone, whisper)
Back to the voices he swore he heard
Not voices like ours, he said
They shone like moonbeams on icicles
They quenched like cool water in burning mouths
They gripped like a hunter's jaws around a rabbits neck
Some said he should be called Liar
Some would have called him Ill
Be we knew what he said was true
Just as some understood the ways of the stars
Or the animals
Or the clouds
It was not hard to believe this, too  

[Chimerical Beast]

Semi-Custom Request
username: Chimerical Beast
kin name: None for Me
kin species: Kimeti
gender: Male
growing or non: Non
request: Red, black, CC color. Hopeless, damned, starving.
anything special about your request (RP need, etc.): He's a tragic villain.


He waited with all the other foals, trembling with excitement. Many of them were calling out, jumping about, or craning their necks above the others, all hoping to be next.
One by one, the Crane beckoned them forth and placed an egg in their open mouths. The younglings would then go off to a corner with the ones before them and open the egg.
All sorts of wonderful things came spilling out! Knowledge, joy, strength, artistry, wisdom, fulfillment, love.
When he was finally called forth, he came to the Crane aching with a nameless need. The Crane placed an egg in his mouth, and off he went to join the others.
He giddily cracked open the egg, wondering what great gift he would receive.
But there were only two halves of an empty shell.
He stared at it for a moment in confusion. He prodded at the pieces again, hoping to find something clinging to the sides, or pooled at the bottom.
Nothing.
He began to cry; the terrible, nameless hunger becoming too great for him to bear. He waited for someone to tell him there had been a mistake, that he would soon be given something to satiate his need. Or maybe one of the other foals would share with him, so that he would at least not hurt so much.
But no one came to comfort him.