the Rift


Act like you own the place

Beloved Posts: 121
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 8.5 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: Appears 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Orphan :: Ragdoll Cat :: None Bunnie
#4
beloved
She doesn’t answer the question given first, instead lifting her crown, her nostrils wrinkling in contemptuous wonder as she glances once about the surrounding wood. Third? Where? Here there are two, and two alone, unless one counts them, though they are only whispers, kisses, smoke upon a breeze.

Her head tilts, eyes realigning on the crowned stranger. Is she always certain? Of course, she is. There are two, and one is wandering, because Beloved has found her here, and she is not a vagabond, a rogue, no outcast without aim. That leaves one, one in the shadow of the Tall Wood.

"You are but one," she explains, giggling, sure that this clever-eyed thing already knows, but seemingly having to say so anyway. Peculiar, these mortals, how they inquire after the obvious, thinks the witch, her eyes narrowing.

Weaver? she wonders. What is this, an accusation, a mark of weakness given by judgment alone? As had been thought then, in the meeting, when the concept of such a path had been laid before her: Beloved does not create.

A frown devours her features for a moment, an ear falling back as her next question rattles through the writhing of the whispers. Refuge, she seeks. How would she know, then, of the weavers, their cloths and textiles, and that laughable offer to her blood-lust by the Shouting Dawn (the Lady Hotaru)?

Is it, then, her calling?

The smile which twists the lips of the white witch is unsettling, her giggles a long stream melding and warping. What a delight, this irony! How perfect, the winding lines, and their blessed union! Breathless, a wet breath is shuddered inward, at last managing words after some minute or longer, distracted, still cackling at her luck, and fate.

"Mind you mountains?" the demoness purrs, her peculiar eyes shifting north, a distant shadow blooming in them, as she walks the way in her mind, far, far from here; suddenly, her gaze snaps back to Weaver, "to the north Beloved haunts; the Aurora Basin, land of dancing skies."


die like God, on the cover of time
Image Credit

@Weaver
Tag Beloved, please!

Feel free to attack her with physical or magical violence at your own risk. ;D


Messages In This Thread
Act like you own the place - by Weaver - 01-04-2017, 01:40 PM
RE: Act like you own the place - by Beloved - 01-04-2017, 02:51 PM
RE: Act like you own the place - by Weaver - 01-06-2017, 10:52 AM
RE: Act like you own the place - by Beloved - 01-10-2017, 11:04 AM
RE: Act like you own the place - by Weaver - 01-10-2017, 04:31 PM

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