[P] we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] we were always meant to be shadow and sin (/showthread.php?tid=21944) |
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we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Nymeria - 12-14-2015 And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
The moon was bloated and yellow, a degenerating king surrounded by rich black velvet and white-faced squires.
No. The moon was a queen, not a king. She was full and gold, the crowning glory of the nightly court; she watched as guardian and sentinel, her ebullient light washing the world in silver and gray. In her arms she cradled the thieves and the wicked, the devout and the faithful. All were safe beneath her gaze. These were blasphemous thoughts—thoughts that did not belong here in the Falls, where flowers wilted and trees shed their leaves come autumn. Here was very far away from the sky's dark embrace, and the wind was converted into a mere whisper by the blunt force of the trees. Nymeria wanted to apologize to that far-off goddess, to ask to be forgiven—but that goddess did not watch her. That goddess probably did not know she existed.
Lilómiel twisted his claws tighter into the artfully tangled curls of her mane, chiding her and her blasphemous thoughts. Moon watch, he promised to Nym. The worst part was that he honestly believed that a goddess would waste a moment to look upon the obsolete and the lost.
She may watch, but she doesn't speak, the grullo said in turn, with a twitch of her ear and an annoyed whisk of her tail across sooty flanks.
Their thoughts momentarily entwine, a broad and loose exchange of emotion. It settles both their unrest; Nymeria bends at the knee, lowering her weight to the ground. Her back pressed up against a tree trunk, Lilómiel cradled along the dip of her spine, she lays and watches the stars. As always, she is entranced by their celestial swirl across the sky, unpredictable and hypnotic; but she does not feel the same kinship to those cold and distant bodies as she does with the falls booming in the distance, or the ebb and flow of the sea. In some way, she wishes that her magic would not be so earth like in nature... but she would not trade away her given gifts for anything in the world.
Nymeria wondered why she wasn't able to innately see the moon as a symbol of the Moon Goddess. When she looked at it, fat and gold—it looked to be a parasite, swollen with ill-given blood. And then, she closed her eyes, concentrated, opened them again: and it was a crown again, a smile, a promise. It's an illusion.
It was all an illusion—all she had to do was give it the right context... RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Knox - 12-24-2015
@Nymeria sorry for the wait RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Nymeria - 12-28-2015 And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
It is always interesting, when someone doesn't see you. The stallion, at least, didn't appear to see her, although admittedly looks could be deceiving—no, he seemed genuinely far-off, drifting like a lost ship on the sea. A pale and pearlescent white shed soft light upon his dark and shapely head, carving out a hard jaw and a lonely eye. She, in turn, remained overtly interested, her ears pricked forward in idle interest, but her eyes not so casual. There was a sharp, predatory gleam to her red, reminiscent of ravens or salesmen or sharks—hunters and scavengers all, on a warpath for power.
Lilómiel chirruped something to her in a loosely-formed question, but she did not dignify his childish queries with an answer. Instead, she remained attentive to the stallion's passing, listening, watching, and waiting. She supposed the stallion was her herdmate, and yet that hadn't seemed to amount for much (at least, not yet.) Herdmate was hardly an adequate descriptor for a potential consort, or rival; it didn't have enough... information backing it, particularly with those tight straps and gleaming buckles strapped to his face. There were too many questions, as always, questions that rarely had easy answers, and rarer still were even answered in the first place.
Despite the stranger's difference, he looked very much like her, or her brother.
Whatever the case, she wouldn't have this minor curiosity turn into another unsolved riddle. The lost stallion, for all the world alone in the darkness and the faded moonlight, was solvable and usable like anything else: and she would discover his weakness, and his strengths, and pit it against him, because that was what she did and would always do. Once she found out of his rank—if she did—she would only be more greedy to learn his secrets, to learn what was in his pockets.
When she moved from the trees to more trees, she did not soften her footsteps, but let them snap out sharp and clear, a warning shot as much as anything else.
"Who are you?" She said, her voice beseeching and wheedling, friendly and on the very edge of rambunctious. OOC: All of Knox's magics can be used on Nymeria without asking first! Apologies for the short post, I'm sure it'll get longer as the thread progresses. RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Knox - 01-20-2016
@Nymeria RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Time - 03-11-2016 unarchived per request RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Nymeria - 03-11-2016 And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
The stallion snorts. (How rude.) When he speaks, his voice is dulled by mourning, blunted by some old tragedy—she wonders what it is, if he’d be in a mood to divulge (wouldn’t that be divine?)—but it’s not merely his tone that sets her itching but his words, words not really meant for her. At least, she didn’t think those murmurs were for her; and normally her thoughts were right. Why would she question herself now? No—she’d trust her gut. And so instead of letting her eyebrows arch upwards or her face to startle into an expression of disgust, she lets a coy smile roll over her lips, just for him. I wonder if he’s a madman. His words didn’t sound entirely sane. Then he slips on, the words falling fast and flat and dismal and more coherent. Nymeria blinks, lashes posing together, and her smile stretches ever so gently wider. She marvels at him—admires him—with his monotone, his tangled mane, his knotted tail, the rasp to his voice; although perhaps his dishevelment was simply for show. It would be a fair conclusion to say he seemed irritated by her company (although why he’d be she didn’t understand.) “I—” she begins, but then the stallion cuts her off with another bitter sentence, his eyes reaching for hers. His were cold and hard eyes (should she say they were like ‘chips of ice’, or was that too cliché?), blue like a winter sea. Nymeria meets his gaze gladly—confrontationally—in scarlet, wondering if he’d missed the bones marked on her cheeks in his non-reality. (Wondering if he just didn’t care about her appearance which so often spooked others.) “I was going to say,” she said with a hint of acerbity, “that I’m looking for a stallion named Knox. He’s supposed to give assignments to spies. And I’m Nymeria, if you’d given me the chance to introduce myself.” The grullo lifted her head—and flashed him a warm smile, sanding off the edges of her voice. For all his bluster, she couldn’t help but be intrigued. That’s a dangerous way of thinking, Lilómiel told her.
I know. RE: we were always meant to be shadow and sin - Knox - 04-05-2016
@Nymeria sorry for the wait, again. I said two seasons because this thread was in Orangemoon, if I'm correct, which makes two seasons in Birdsong. If you make a thread I will have a reply up (much quicker this time, I swear) and Knox will officially grant her the rank, assuming all goes well. |