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when the chips are down - Seraphina - 10-17-2018
☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
when the fires are consuming you and your sacred stars won't be guiding you Unbeknownst (or, perhaps, entirely known) to the sun god, the silver was in fact at her books again – though she was damn near tearing the pages out with frustration.
Always something, isn’t it? That was her problem, she thought, always expecting to find some sort of mathematical solution even when hell had frozen over. If there was anything that she should have learned from all of this – from gods returning to life and the entire land uprooting itself – it was that there was not always a solution, or, at the very least, not one that could be found tucked between the yellowed, ash-scented pages of history. She had hoped, against her better judgement, that she would stumble upon some poorly-cited historical incident where the Day Court had been covered in ice and snow for some inconceivable reason, and that might lead her to some sort of answer, some way to fix things - But there were no answers to be found, and, as she stared down at a page that she was sure she’d scanned half a dozen times already, a sense of futility settled in her stomach like a stone. They were fine, but… The three patrols she’d sent out to the Mors hadn’t come back. She wouldn’t send any more of them to their deaths. Had they simply become lost in the snow? But the warriors of Solterra were accustomed to finding their way in the endless monotony of desert sands – surely, in a group, she hoped that her warriors were competent enough to navigate their way back home. The other, more sickening possibility was that something waited for them in the snow. (For a moment, the paradoxical lash of flame burnt at her withers, then nothing. She could taste blood in her mouth.) One thing was perfectly clear to her: they couldn’t remain holed up behind the walls of the court forever. She flipped the cover of the leather-bound tome in front of her closed, looking away dismissively. New problems required new solutions. It was her job to find them. (But, gods, if it wouldn’t help to have some sort of fire magic – or magic at all – at the moment. It wasn’t as though they could simply shovel out the blizzard on their doorstep.) Ears twitching back to lie flat against her skull, she breezed out of the library and into the frigid cold that had consumed the battlements. Freezing wind twined through the snow-white of her hair, catching in the pale, lurid sunlight; she let a shiver run her spine. The landscape was unrecognizable, each familiar ridge and contour and distant silhouette swallowed up in a sea of snow – as much as the smooth sandstone, slick with ice, beneath her hooves told her that she was home, it felt as though she were in some other world. Her eyes, instinctively, sought the glow of the sun without quite staring into it. She still wasn’t sure if he could hear their prayers, much less if they were thought rather than spoken aloud, but...he was around. She knew that much, had felt his warmth at her side and remembered the gold sheen of his sides as well if it were yesterday. It couldn’t hurt. Solis. Do you have some idea of how to fix this? I’ve…found nothing, and I’m running short on ideas. Short of setting the entire court (or realm) ablaze, anyhow. -------------------- notes | a post? seems unrealistic. anyways, seraphina is alive, and, shockingly...has her nose buried in a book. tags | open <3 RE: when the chips are down - Saphrax - 10-18-2018
RE: when the chips are down - Seraphina - 11-08-2018
☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
when the fires are consuming you and your sacred stars won't be guiding you Saphrax might be disappointed when he finds the woman, for she is no portrait of delicate beauty; Seraphina could only be called lovely in the purposeful way that one might call a well-sharpened, finely crafted blade lovely. She is all lean muscle, and, as she moves to look at him, her stance, though not particularly tense, is imposing. Her features are dark and weathered, and her eyes – her eyes have seen too much for her face. She’s older than she was, no longer child-queen or frightened girl just growing into her adulthood with a crown like a noose around her throat, but she still isn’t old enough for the ages behind her eyes. And as she lets her odd stare, a sharp contrast of fire and ice, linger on his own, the look in her eyes is cold enough to put the frigid wind that swirls about them to shame.
She thinks that the preening bird in front of her is one of the fairer creatures that she has seen – he reminds her of the phoenix that she has seen in the company of that Dusk Court woman, Israfel, and the artful way that he lands is something to be admired. (She has a certain respect for beings that can fly.) Her gaze creeps watchfully down the feathers of flame that decorate his scalp and hips, the burning of his wings – a fire mage, hmm? She wonders if the flames are just for show, or if they would burn if touched. (If not, she thinks that they are little more than useless decoration; she needs something that burns, not simply something that gleams. The sun – not its reflection.) He asks where he can find the Day Court, and her response is almost immediate, practiced from years as a patrolling guard. “You stand within its walls,” she says simply, her voice impassive, “though it is not usually so…frigid.” She allows a moment’s pause between them before she inclines her head at him, allowing curiosity to replace her frustration; now that she was a Queen, rather than a mere patrol guard, it seemed so rare that she was able to encounter strangers on their first visit to the court. In spite of his poor timing, Seraphina couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn him to Solterra – and not just because, as its Sovereign, she needed to know everything that occurred within its (presently snow-covered) sands. “What brings you to Solterra, stranger? Why do you seek the Day Court?” If that curiosity bleeds out into her tone, however, it is well-guarded; her intonation barely even rises with the question. However, something in her voice is cool and commanding, with a hint of the authority that she has grown into oh-so slowly. She did not like it much when she had first borne the crown, when she was so young and inexperienced. She is still not so sure that she likes it, but she has grown into it. She offers him no introduction of her own, in spite of her questions. Seraphina had learned that she preferred to remain anonymous, whenever it was possible – even if this stranger had no reason to know the queen of the court (or, perhaps, if he sought it out, he did), she had no desire to give him her name just yet. -------------------- notes | !!! <3 this is rambly. but also I have a lot of feelings about my girl being like, a whole five years old in-game now. tags | @Saphrax RE: when the chips are down - Saphrax - 12-11-2018
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