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le cirque des rêves. - Aislinn - 10-24-2017 she walked in moondust
and stars were sprinkled in her hair She was a wraith cloaked in shadows and smoke, the stars above her glittering as dusk collapsed into night. Calligo stretched her long arms across the sky in beautiful hues of deep indigo touched with her sister goddess' gold; the sun slowly falling into a stupor as the light began to fade. Striped alabaster hooves carried her through the mountains, her gypsy soul craving movement, wandering. The Arma pass towered on every side of her, a boundary of solid rock that defended her homeland with a stone fist. Autumn's chill curled gold-dusted fingers down her spine as the leaves fell all around her, softening the underbrush beneath her as she traveled. Wind screamed through the skinny trail, tossing her wild mane and kissing every feather of her wings; an ache to fly a burning thirst she could not quench. High above her, she looked up to marvel at the stars, and the single, bright constellation that showed her true north. Her blue orbs reflected those shining stars, as she finally broke free from the mountain pass as the beaten path began to wind down down down, to a place she had not yet explored. She had traversed every nook and cranny of her home, Denocte, since her birth. Had seen even the far reaches of the continent when she had traveled to the court of Dawn. But she had not yet tasted the forbidden sands that lay just above the Night Court; had not yet dared to cross the borders into the kingdom of her enemy. Her king's enemy. Either the stormsinger was not thinking straight, or sleepwalking, she did not know, but her hooves toed the sands that lined the dying grass just outside of Denocte's borders. Boulders littered the grass as the land leveled, the foreboding mountains at her backside. Ahead of her, as if in a dream, an endless sea of scorched earth that seemingly was not touched by the change of the seasons. Solis had laid waste to these lands, parching the desert floor of life, as her hooves touched the soft earth as it gave away beneath her legs. She pushed forward, despite the warning bells that rang through her skull. She had to know.. had to see the kingdom that dared rear it's ugly head against the passion and might of Calligo's chosen. So she crossed that invisible line, the stars glimmering their prayers to their gypsy girl, as she entered the court of Day. @inkheart longggg overdue love, I'm sorry <3 she just barely crosses the border because she's "Aislinn speech." RE: le cirque des rêves. - Inkheart - 10-24-2017
RE: le cirque des rêves. - Aislinn - 10-27-2017 she walked in moondust
and stars were sprinkled in her hair With tender steps along the sloping red sands that were almost a muted, dusty crimson underneath the night sky and silver moon, Aislinn sent a prayer up to her goddess. To hold her stormsinger in her gathering darkness, to protect her in mist and shadow, to bless her with the light of newborn stars. She would need the extra strength around her mending heart, should she stray too far through the wilds of Solis' realm. Her curiousity burned like a supernova in her chest; and although warning bells sang their constant chimes through her skull, and down through every waking nerve and muscle, Aislinn trudged forward. Deeper into a kingdom that lay wasted beneath a scorching sun, their armies written into bedtime stories and their horrors the myths that are told to children to scare them into behaving. But she was not a child, nor naÏve. She was a woman, capable of striking her own path, be it for good or no. Aislinn prided herself on her love for her people, her blind devotion to protect her homeland and those who dwelled within Calligo's night-kissed lands. Her heart beat mad and prideful, strong and willful, like the chaos of thunder rumbling across a bruised sky. As she her mind mulled over the morality of her choices, her hooves danced along the edge of the canyon that cracked across the red earth like an open wound. The wind that swirled the sands was quiet, a soft whispering that danced around her hooves and tussled the starlight and ink of her mane. The stormsinger fae flirted with the adrenaline that laced through her blood, hot and thick and lovely, as her hooves toed the sharp edge of the canyon. Orbs of blue searched the shadowed fathoms below, to what lay hidden in the deep; her gaze not high above, marveling at the moon.. and the woman who floated in the sea of stars with her eyes set on Aislinn. She is a wraith cloaked in the darkness of deep space, which sparks a light of curiosity in her chest as the stormsinger watches her slowly descend. The mare's coat is touched by night, but the molten gold of her eyes betray her as she meets those eyes, coming to a halt with her hooves sinking into the sand as the stranger lands not a few feet in front of her. She's been caught -- and that very fact does not send shudders of worry down her spine.. but of amusement, as Aislinn squares her shoulders and stares down the woman before her. You're a bold woman, I see. The smile that curls the edges of her lips brings a similar one to Aislinn's own, a bemused grin tugging at her as her brow lifts. She rolls her shoulders, crown falling slightly as her wings tremble lightly. Showing her cards, her hands unfolded, caught red-handed. "Seems you got me," she replies, her smile flashing as her orbs shine brightest blue flames. Her gaze blinks as she looks up to take in the woman, noticing how the shadows of night cling to the obsidian of her coat, and the streaks of gold that gleam through the silk of her hair. The smooth planes of her face are graceful, and the silver moonlight compliments the amber of her eyes, and the sprinkles of gold on her wings. Aislinn's heart is a caged bird, racing as her blood roars. The stranger is divine, despite the fact that she calls this wretched kingdom her home. She does not know what to say, what to think, except that her mind is muddled, her emotions haywire. So she deals a card, taking a chance as her crown tilts to the side, revealing the bright ivory star set perfectly between her eyes. "What do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, her voice smooth and raspy, as if she had spent the night singing in revelry and music. Her eyes shimmering like the stars above her, as she swears her goddess looks down and curls her smoke and shadows around her gypsy girl. Holding her, cradling her, as she plays a game with a strange woman in a place she might not ever should have explored. @inkheart eeep <3 your table -heart eyes- "Aislinn speech." RE: le cirque des rêves. - Inkheart - 11-19-2017
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