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03-28-2015, 11:22 PM
Her excitement, as it was prone to do, made her rash and quick to react rather than think. Ampere was not really stupid, she was just reckless, usually coming up with better tactics after the fact. One of those facts was now, as Thranduil responded less than revealingly to her questions, not that she could really blame him. She knew there was uses to being private and stealthy, even if she didn't often practice them. So although she didn't fault the stallion, she didn't like it either.
Her features grew more reserved in response, the blue of her eye sharpening as wrinkles edged her eyes and her lids with thoughtful calculation. Now she was a bit more concerned about the fact she had just seen herself, and what implications it might mean. She wasn't sure if he could only copy her, though it seemed rather useless. Maybe he could only copy whoever was nearby? Maybe it only lasted for a brief period of time? Was this golden stag she was looking at his true form, or another copied mask?
Too many questions, too many dangerous uses whatever the answers were. He tries to assuage her with describing it as a trick, and in turn she tilted her head, rather bird like with her inspection. He finally breaks though, in more ways than one. "Ampere," he says, and she freezes, eyes almost flinching as though struck. Feathers bristle at her sides, lips taut with guarded hostility. "What do you know of me, trickster!" she barks, her mind racing with more questions, chief among them was how he knew her fucking name. Ampere wasn't one for social etiquette and often withheld her name, where as others passed it out freely. She didn't guard her identity for any paranoid reason (although maybe now she would), but rather a feeling of uselessness of the title, preferring more inventive nicknames.
In fact many in the realm had given her one such name, Mother of the Companions. Was this the doing of her passion? Was her name and her face now so recognizable? If so, why did so many companions still enter bondage on a routine basis? If they all knew of her, then what, it just didn't matter what she had to say, what she stood for, what her goddamn title represented?
Anger snorted through her flared nares as she stood before the gilded thief. He had the audacity to ask her of something, to bind her to a trade when he had told her nothing as it was. Ears flicked back, unappreciative, and muscles continued to quiver with tension. If her identity was so easily known (and taken), she wouldn't be able to accomplish anything. The Throat had tied her with their laws and alliances, many of which she didn't personally agree with. Fuck! she thought furiously, recognizing too well the weight of chains.
Ampere needed this man.
Softening, an bit, Ampere's wings flattened back down. She licked her lips thoughtfully. "You help others if they help you then?" she asked carefully of him, careful with the way she placed her hooves now, so to speak. "It so happens I've a need of someone who can look like someone they're not." It wouldn't help her if all he could do was look like her though, "someone other than me." She paused, watching him, waiting for some signal if any that this was within his realm of ability.
"Loan me a favor, even join my cause if you would... and then you will soar." She flexed her wings at her sides, their movement so naturally and fluid it was obvious she'd been born with them, using them, relying on them since her birth. Any dishonest individual loves a better way to sharpen their lies.
@[Thranduil]
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
