SWP :: First Contact

SWP :: First Contact

Naya'il Posts: N/A

Unregistered

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#20

08-20-2015, 03:55 PM (This post was last modified: 08-20-2015, 04:07 PM by Tamme.)

Life with mortals seemed pointless. They had known much about them before arriving, but living under their skin was a different tale all together. They were still adjusting, from being an all powerful angelic creature made purely of energy to being tied to a mortal vessel. The original soul that inhabited this body has long since given up the fight for control, spirit ejected as the angel took hold. The divine being still could not manage with the basic necessities of living within a body that had needs. Sleeping, eating and drinking were things rarely done, and relieving oneself was absolute nonsense to this angel. This lead to scenarios where warm dribble would slip down the leg unexpectedly, pooling at the hooves in all of its soft golden glory. Contractions and pinching within the abdomen made for uncomfortable nights, dry throats lead to rasping breathes and parched tongues. Sleep was inescapable after being wide awake for hours on end, yet this immortal being neglected all of these needs to observe the weak and naive mortals with a fearsome gaze. Their blank expression proved to be a fearsome sight as they stood, gazing down upon the gathering beings. Little did they know they were within the presence of such a holy being, garnished in the water that tumbled down over hidden treasures.

Keen, half-lidded eyes swept over the few that had arrived. Few were recognized as the mortals this holy being has followed through the tear in their plane, eyes adjusting to the sight of them in a different light. They were beneath darker skies now, the view of the open expanse blocked by crimson leaves, stretching out like delicate fingers on gnarled branches. The pure blade glinted in what little light it could catch, emerald eyes swooping down to snatch up whatever it could survey. It was no surprise when the dreary landscape the angel had known before burst into a more lively, macabre land that was littered with unfamiliar faces. The righteous being turned its gaze to the new god, boiling with a strange sense of disgust as it gazed down upon him and the mortals that so foolishly gathered together. Such easy targets for predatory animals or natural disasters.

With open wings, the holy existence gave a trill as it descended into the crowd with an upturned muzzle. It lands, soft, quiet. Short wings collapse against slow rising sides, piercing green darting around to find something of interest. A snowy maiden introduces herself. Ophelia, she declares. The angel gives a disinterested blink, staring at the crowned woman while others flocked to her as if she was a god. A bulkier equine speaks, Volterra. The name pleases the divine, their body angling towards the midnight boy with curious eyes set on his wide form. Ambling forward more, the holy beast gives an abrupt nod, straightening. "Child," they begin, gazing upon the youth with a softer look. "What is Helovia? Who are the reigning gods here?" The being stares, wide eyed at the child, leaning in to make out the details of his features. Such red eyes were interesting to this angel, another question stumbling from their dark lips. "Do you work with the darkness?" A victim of darkness was sacrificed against their supreme's orders, leaving the outcast angel to be thrown from heaven for their unruly and rebellious behaviour.

-- idk what this table is doing