#which considering what they've dealt with is no easy feat

[lisbonsteresa]

[vibrating out of my skin] this is fine

[sea-and-storm]

BETTER WITH AGE : Ghoa Mankhad

PROMPT : Describe your muse at ages 20, 40, and 60!

Tagged by @afreesworn, so blame her for this rambly bit of quasi-prose because when I saw this meme, it decided to live stubbornly rent-free in my head until I finally sat down and wrote it out. But it's late and I'm rusty, so excuse the inevitable clunky writing and weird stream-of-consciousness rambling. x:

Also I haven't been on tumblr in a hot minute and I'm probably gonna go on a meme spree here soon so I'll spare people from a tagfest since I have no idea who has or hasn't done these. :T

So uh, if you see this and wanna do it, just.. consider yourself tagged!

-- AGE 20 . . .

At age twenty, Ghoa is only just gaining her first true taste of freedom. It hasn't been long since she left the Steppe behind, fleeing a life of violence and oppression at the mercy of others' cruel whims.

Kugane is still very much a foreign land to her, equal parts terrifying and intoxicating. It is a city whose lifeblood is the trading of koban, unlike the bartering and trading -- and the taking by force -- that is prevalent in the lands she calls -- no, called her home.

Even more awkward to her is the earning of coin; but for that problem, there is an unexpected solution. Her name is Ino, a hyuran native of the land Ghoa now finds herself in. The only things that come more easily to her than her usual cocksure grins are the coins that she seems to have a knack for getting her fingers on. She readily takes the wayward Xaela under her wing, and together they begin to dream of schemes to turn their lives around. Gods know they both deserve it after the difficulties they've both already lived through.

At twenty, Ghoa doesn't yet know that this relationship born of mutual survival will soon grow into something more. Friendship. Companionship. Love. She's even less aware that the same relationship that pulled her up from the darkness of the past will end in yet more tragedy. She's blissfully unaware of the scars that this loss will one day leave behind, an invisible guilt that would linger with her for many, many long years to come no matter how hard she tries to outrun it.

As for the Storm? There have certainly been times in her twenty years that she has felt the itch of electricity arc across her palms, aching to be released. Yet she has kept it pushed deep down, kept tightly under control. Her upbringing has led her to fear the power born to her. Rather than continue to train to control it, she opts instead to push it down, push it away. It rumbles like darkened clouds on a distant horizon, the occasional faint but harmless rumble of thunder carried upon the winds. That rumble begs for her to let it loose, to let the rains and winds and lightning break free around her. Instead, she turns a blind eye, pretending not to hear its pleading as she looks towards what she hopes to be a sunny future.

-- AGE 40 . . .

At age forty, Ghoa has gone through a gamut of changes that she never could have anticipated.

She has loved and lost, and she has blamed herself for it. She's roamed far and wide, half searching for a place that she might call 'home' and half attempting -- without success -- to outrun the ghosts of the past. Her life has turned towards the dark, towards the selling of illicit potions and dangerous poisons and the ever-profitable trade of secrets. She has become a creature of hedonism and selfishness, closing her heart towards those around her and putting her own needs and whims above all else. She has finally learned what it seems her earlier years had perhaps been trying to teach her all along: that the joys of the world belong only to those strong enough and clever enough to climb upon the backs of others to grasp them. And she has vowed never to let another climb upon her in their own pursuit ever again.

It would have been easy for her to continue down this path, to continue down it until nigh impossible to turn back. Yet within these twenty years, chance has once again placed someone in her path that would radically change her life's trajectory. Rather, she met several someones. She calls them friend, lover, kin.. but most of all, at age forty, she calls them family. Blood or not, she has come to share a deep and profound bond with each of them.

Through them and their various trials and tribulations, she has come to see that she was wrong. Joy is not the sole providence of those who seize it by force of will. It belongs to those whose backs have been tred upon, yet still rise up from the darkness -- often with one another's help -- time and again. It belongs to those who refuse to give into despair and anger and bitterness, no matter how tempting. It belongs to those who are strong enough to allow themselves to be vulnerable and feel, rather than closing themselves off to everything and everyone around them.

At age forty, Ghoa can say without hesitancy or reservation that she is surrounded by those she cares for and whom care for her in turn. In coming to love them, she's come to love herself. Most of all, she has learned that her 'home' is not a physical place. It exists at a table full of drinks and raucous laughter. It exists in a conversation first awkward and quickly turned warm from a man who is at once unknown and yet achingly familiar to her. It exists wrapped in strong arms, even as tears well in her eyes and her clutching fingers are reluctant to ever let go.

Home is where she can be with those she loves, and perhaps that yet undiscovered realization is why Ghoa has been so very restless her entire life.

These past twenty years have yielded to her one more life-altering realization: that she can no sooner deny the Storm within her than she can deny her very self. It runs in her blood, electrifies her soul. Suppressing it is suppressing herself and, after all, had Ghoa not long ago vowed never to allow herself to be suppressed again?

Though the reunion has been long in the making, Ghpa's bond with the Storm feels like catching up with a long lost friend. At times, it is awkward and uncomfortable and even explosive. Others, they are in perfect harmony with one another. Regardless, Ghoa no longer winces at the rumbling skies as they approach, but looks instead with eagerness as the wind and rain begin to whip around her. Her breath hitches in excitement with each flash of lightning and roaring peal of thunder. They're discovering each other all over again after so long apart, and it will take time.. But it is a start that Ghoa has eagerly made.

-- AGE 60 . . .

At age sixty, Ghoa has begun to show the ravages of time. Her hair, once the color of breaking waves, has darkened and faded in vibrancy over the years. Lines have begun to form at her eyes and at the edges of her smile; their initial coming, of course, much to her dismay. Yet for what she has traded in youthful beauty, she's gained in poise. There's a certain air she keeps, a wisdom and a knowing sense that has come from a long life full of the lowest lows and the highest highs, from a life lived well and to its fullest.

She looks back now on the past six decades and sees all the past versions of herself with renewed clarity and understanding. The scared young woman just trying to survive the cruel hand dealt to her. The one who at one turn felt hope and love for the first time, and then just as quickly replaced both with guilt and self-loathing. The woman who convinced herself that she was better off putting herself above all others, caring not for who she hurt in the process. And yet, there is also the woman who found herself caring so much for those around her that she would fling herself into the face of danger to protect them at a moment's notice.

Ghoa looks back on these women now and realizes there was no one single point at which she became herself. She is the sum of all the parts of her life, both bitter and sweet. Even the worst moments of her life, she realizes now, eventually lead to change -- growth -- within herself. Though.. perhaps not in a linear fashion, as Ghoa was ever wont to stumble along the way. But with that realization now comes acceptance, peace, and healing. For the first time, she is able to look back at her years without picking out all the parts she wishes she could change.

Now at sixty, Ghoa has likely lost some of those she cares for along the way, gone but never forgotten nor less loved. Yet as always, the Storm within remains her most constant companion. Gone are the days where she fears its power or it roars out of her grasp unbidden. There is a mutual respect and understanding between them, and with that comes a power she never knew.

Once as a girl, Ghoa watched as Elder Unegen called lightning down from the sky upon herself and walked away not only whole, but embraced by arcing jolts of electricity curling protectively around her until she released them back unto the sky. She doubted back then that she could ever be so powerful. Yet now, Ghoa has not only performed the same feat, but she has done so in front of the next generation of Stormcallers. She will fill them with awe at what is possible, and she will guide them with a gentle but firm hand as any Elder Stormcaller aught now that she has come full circle and returned to the very tribe in which her long story began.