Lucinda feels out of her element along the shores of Denocte looking out at the sea. She wandered here to seek out their festival, only to be fairly disappointed. Nothing about their activities piqued her interest and it seemed unlikely anyone would fall into a trap with Abraxia's help. Perhaps she underestimated the resilience of the Night Court and their guests. No matter, she simply decided to leave and find something better to do.
She now finds herself walking along the shore. The water laps at her feet with every ebb and flow and her hooves leave prints in the wet sand. Abraxia flies several feet above her, but the flapping of her wings is drowned out by the crashing waves. The smell of low tide is strong and she realizes just how much she's become used to the dryness of the desert. There is not much to smell out there but sand, which is hardly noticeable compared to this.
The change of scenery isn't entirely bad. She became so consumed by the projects for the Scorpions that she hasn't ventured out too far. Lucinda had never been one for routine, so it's become monotonous. She felt restless and in need of… something. Something more, but she can't put words to it. There is only a gnawing feeling in her chest almost like hunger, but it's not for food, or even blood.
For now, she stops and watches the sea. She lets the water spray over her as the wave comes up against a tall rock. It feels oddly exhilarating. Maybe the shore isn't so bad once one gets past the wretched smell.
The stranger smells like a bouquet Anandi was given once. It was a fragrant, dusty thing, full of desert flowers and herbs; the scent of it forever tied subliminally to a girl with two names and a hurlbat.
Anandi might claim it was the night and the sea that brought her here, but really it was the scent of the stranger. She followed it like a hound through the court, through the crooked streets of the crowded marketplace, down a well-worn path to the sea. Hoping-- with a fierceness that felt like hunger-- it was her tri-colored girl she would find at the end of the trail.
But it was not Apolonia. It was in many ways her opposite: winged, horned, sleek black. Mane long and wavy. Anandi swallows her disappointment.
“Boring, isn’t it?” The kelpie gestures to the court, which sits on the slope behind the stranger’s shoulder, shrouded in a smoky orange haze of its own creation. Anandi found the bonfires gratuitous and distasteful. She feared she was going to smell like smoke for weeks. But here, by the sea, the night was vast and dark and comforting. The air sharp, crisp, briny-- familiar. As her eyes adjust to the darkness of the night, she takes in the winged mare appraisingly, expression catlike and pleased.
The kelpie is, of course, keenly aware of the water, a mere stone’s throw away and arching closer and closer. The tide was rising, swelling, and the beast in her responded in kind. She thinks offhandedly of striking, dragging, drowning-- how quickly and brilliantly this conversation could end.
She smiles sweetly, to keep from growling. The hunger in her is dark and vast and does not like being ignored.
“I’ve not seen you around before,” her voice just a little hitched, a little husky, suggestive of I would have noticed you, even in a crowded room, and when she smiles she does so broadly, not bothering to hide the sharp white of her teeth. They were so very far from the festivities of court, from anyone who might come to investigate if there happened to be strange sounds coming from the sea. “I’m Anandi. What’s your name?”
Hunger corrupts, and absolute hunger
corrupts absolutely,
or almost.
A voice takes her away from her thoughts and Lucinda turns to see a woman of gray approaching. She looks like she might be a creature from the sea itself with her unique bright orange mutation on her head. The ebony mare looks on with curiosity, but also amusement. It's as if the stranger can read her mind.
"Yes, I never understood the trivial gatherings the Courts like to hold," she replies with a yawn. There is always laughing and dancing, but nothing truly to celebrate about. The autumn season came and went every year, so nothing new to be celebrated there. There were many drinks, but after a few, they're nothing special. Even the merchants in the markets aren't selling anything of worth to her or the Scorpions.
One upside to not pledging allegiance to any Court is not being obligated to attend any of the so called festivities they started up. It also became helpful during times of war and not having to pick a side, or really participate at all. She could stand along the sidelines and watch what others did and revel in the fact that she's not involved. This is what she's done her entire time within Solterra and she had never once been touched by their Raum.
There is a flash of sharp white teeth when the other woman smiles. It catches Lucinda's attention immediately and she wonders if she's a creature she's only heard about in stories. The kelpies of the sea were known to come up to land and change their form. If one isn't careful, they could be bitten and turned into one themselves. This sort of power and chaos has always intrigued her, but she unfortunately never had the pleasure to meet one. Until now.
"I am not one to be found so easily," she says, keeping herself in mystery for just a bit longer. Usually she doesn't give out her name so soon, but if this woman truly is a kelpie, it just might be worth having the connection. "Lucinda."
Looking at Anandi, there is something almost catlike about her. Is this woman seeing her as prey? She would be disappointed to find out that Lu is not that naive and would be much more difficult to hunt. The ebony mare keeps her guard up just in case.
"I have to say, I have not met a kelpie before," she says with an all-knowing smirk, her eyes gazing straight into Anandi's. In a way she is saying that she knows her secret and her eyes glow almost as a threat. Watch out, or you might be the one feeling wrath. But after a short moment, she relaxes and her lips curve into a smirk. "But from the stories, I have always wanted to." Perhaps it is daring of her to say, but it's true. What could Anandi reveal that the stories did not (or could not)?
“They’re lonely.” She looks back to the court, from here its many bonfires flickering like starlight. “These events bring strangers together who would otherwise never meet, except maybe on the battlefield.” Anandi understood these events, at least she thought she did. Her issue is that they were trite and boring, at least the few she’d been to. Have a drink, light a candle, dance with someone pretty. She longed for an event with caviar, broken noses, and shattered glass. But it was unbecoming for an emissary to have this opinion, so she kept it to herself. Her entertainment was had in other ways, mostly in the dark or underwater, and in this way she maintained a faultless facade.
On paper, the perfect emissary. Except for that minor kelpie problem-- Which, she would argue (fiercely, unrepentant), was actually a strength.
Lucinda quickly sees her for what she is. Anandi is impressed, but her expression is relaxed, unphased by the threatening gleam in the other woman’s eyes. That lazy, feline confidence: I’m faster and sharper than you. Remind me again, what do I have to fear?
“Oh? Most respond to me with fear and loathing.” If they recognized her as kelpie to begin with, which they often didn’t. Anandi has not yet decided if the other woman was foolish, crazy, or… something else. Something familiar. Like they already knew the end to this story, even if they didn’t. Like the ocean called to them both-- in different ways, sure, but it called, and it could not be ignored.
Suddenly she thinks of Leto.
She thinks of Leto and a yearning rises, a little nagging feeling she knows she should ignore. Leto was like this. Beautiful, fearless, fierce. But she is gone now, lost beneath the waves. And in her wake, a gaping, pining hole.
Anandi shakes her head as though the wanting was a physical thing that could be dislodged like a fly. “So, what do you think?” She turns in a little circle, laughing like a child. “Do I meet your expectations?” And when she stops and looks up, moonlight carving her cheekbones like porcelain, she does not look anything like a child. She is wild and beautiful and a little terrifying, this daughter of midnight sea. She glances to the ocean, which rises to her hocks and tugs at the sand beneath her hooves. Her tail flicks, a memory of cutting through water.
She takes a step toward the rising tide. Meeting Lucinda's eyes, she tilts her head curiously-- almost as if in invitation.
Hunger corrupts, and absolute hunger
corrupts absolutely,
or almost.
There is a snort that escapes Lucinda in response to Anandi's apparent displeasure at the Court's events. She has a point, though, and one that can be agreed upon. Those in Courts seem to rely too heavily on their sense of companionship and false promises of community and peace. They try to keep these up with their events and their celebratory fires. It's always the same and, maybe, there would be more excitement if they held regular spars for trophies. There's nothing like the adrenaline rush of battle and some spilled blood to set the mood.
She finds some similarities in herself and Anandi as the woman speaks of how others perceive her. Mostly, Lu keeps to the shadows and prefers not to be noticed. However, if she were to be seen, she would much prefer to see others cower or run away in fear. Having Abraxia back by her side certainly helps with the intimidation factor. Perhaps one being a kelpie isn't too bad after all.
The sea-woman then turns in a circle, asking Lucinda what she thinks of her and if she met her expectations. The ebony mare studies her for a moment with a brow raised. She isn't sure if she ever had any, but the woman almost looks too beautiful to be as menacing as others see her as. Perhaps that's the very thing that makes her intimidating.
But then as the moonlight highlights Anandi's features, she can see that little bit of terror. It's the curve of her cheekbones, the way her sharp teeth flash in the light and the look in her eyes. Full of curiosity and, perhaps, desire.
"I'm not sure I can properly judge after having only known you for several minutes," she says with honesty, but there is a hint of a challenge in her voice.
Then the kelpie moves closer to the sea, the water lapping at her hooves and smoothing the sand around them. Her head is tilted as if she is inviting her to join her into the ocean depths.
"So that's it then?" Lucinda asks, not breaking the seriousness in her expression. "You're going to lure me to my demise by the sea?" She doesn't follow the woman to the shore even if there might be a small pull to do so; she has more restraint than that. Even if the power kelpies held is tempting, she's not so sure yet if it might be worth the trouble. She'd like to see Anandi try and convince her, or even force her. The latter would surely be amusing.
Above them, Abraxia circles lower but does not land just yet. She can tell through their bond that her companion is growing restless and preparing to strike. Not yet, she tells her, as much as she knows the dragon wants to dig her sharp talons into the woman's flesh. It's worth hearing out what it was all about.
@Anandi oops I guess she's not going to make this very easy xD
Lure the woman to her demise? Anandi curls her lip in distaste. “Of course not. You’re made for greater things than a meal.” She tilts her head, re-evaluating the silk-winged stranger. “Unless… that’s what you’d like?” Her catlike smile suggests I can help you. Let me help you. I will set you free.
The choice is yours and yours alone.
The image of Leto persists. Leto of clay and smoke and starlight. And-- by Anandi’s making-- of ocean. Leto lost to the waves; Anandi’s first failure. Arguably the only failure in her short, charmed life. The ache in her chest grows, deep and dark and so
very
lonesome.
“No. I’m going to lure you to a different life.” Her voice grows hazy and distant, like something on the other side of a dream. “A deeper one.”
“I can make you like me. Sea and earth and sky will all be your domain. Be my sister. Stand by me, when I call on you to.” Her eyes sharpen. You will not be free, not completely. But you will have the ocean. Isn’t that more than enough? “You will always be hungry. But you will never be bored.” She glances to the court with a sneer, even as she takes another step towards the water. It rushes to meet her with a sudden surge of the tide.
“It won’t hurt much.” She adds gently. The word ‘much’ veiled and intangible. What does a kelpie know of pain? We’d ask Leto, but of course--
Anandi grows ever more restless and angry at the thought of Leto’s absence. Her tail snaps with annoyance. “Make your choice now, before I change my mind.” The kelpie knew she knew she was being rash, senseless. She didn't care-- there was a void in her, and she wanted it filled. If the pretty, green-eyed stranger could not help her, she would find someone who would.
Or maybe-- the longing clenches in her stomach, the need almost bringing her to her knees-- she would, for once, just take what she wanted.
Hunger corrupts, and absolute hunger
corrupts absolutely,
or almost.
The kelpie is an interesting creature. She can see potential in Lucinda, although she is not so sure of what exactly Anandi sees in her. Is it power, or just another meal? The woman offers the latter as an option if Lu wanted to. At this, she just laughs and says nothing. She has not succumbed to such depression that she wants her life to end by the jaws of a kelpie.
But then the tone changes and Anandi explains what she could offer Lu. Her eyes go back to the woman and she listens intently. It's a game she's played before where someone tries to offer her something worth her while. There is always a price, but if it's truly worth her time and energy, she may consider. At first, Anandi's offer is tempting. While she cannot rule the sky with her broken wing, ruling more than just land could be worth it. The sea never called to her before, but there is more to it than land. Perhaps the ocean depths can provide more for her than the lands ever could.
There is just one small problem to the woman's offer. The way she puts it - being turned - almost sounds like a cult. Lucinda has no interest in following anyone or having to answer to anyone. This woman is still a stranger and no trust has been formed for her to have any reason to give herself up. The hunger she speaks of too, Lucinda isn't sure if she'd want to deal with that burden. Is it a hunger for even more than what she is aching for now? For power, purpose, or just merely food? Another body to take down and consume, or to turn into a deadly ocean creature.
Make your choice now, before I change my mind, the woman says, as if turning the offer down will be a mistake. Lucinda merely snorts, her lips curving into a wicked smile.
"As I've said, I barely know you. What makes me want to follow you? To come forth whenever I'm called for, like someone's pet," she spits the last words out like they are poison in her mouth. Her green eyes are glowing now as her patience wears thin, but she keeps her composure.
The ebony mare steps closer to the kelpie, almost dangerously close. In a way, it's a challenge to see if she'll do it anyways and try to take Lu down. "I do not answer to anyone, let me make that very clear," she growls. Her posture is like a panther waiting for the right moment to pounce on its prey.
"And I don't join cults." The last bit is meant to sting and her expression matches the wickedness in her tone. She had heard too that kelpies can be masters of persuasion, but quite frankly, this one has disappointed her.
The pegasus was not being very reasonable. Which would be fine; Anandi was used to working with idiots. But she was also being smug and acrid and not grateful in the least. The kelpie’s blood begins to boil. “Fine.” Anandi says, tone light and carefree, but the attempt at breeziness is ruined by the way she can’t seem to unclench her teeth.
“Your loss.” Her voice is growing distant, dreamy. She’s looking at the pegasus’ lovely throat and something dark and sweet is pulsing in her. It isn’t easy to be a monster. It isn’t easy,
but surely someone has to,
whispers the ache in her stomach. The hunger (it’s always there, that hunger, always waiting with its gritted teeth),
The hunger grows and pleads and grows and begs and grows and-- suddenly it demands. Suddenly the ache exploding in her is not for company, and it is not for sisterhood. It is not for one warm body pressed comfortingly to another. It is for blood. It is for meat.
Haven’t you been a good girl for such a long time? Don’t you deserve this? A wolf living among sheep, and you’ve never even tasted them.
The heart doesn’t just hammer in the ears. It pounds (like a clenched fist on a wooden door) on the inside of the skull, and it shoots waves of electric red-white across the vision. Anandi snarls, coral fringe flattened to her skull at the same time as her ears, and her eyes grow wide and predatory. Despite all this she still manages to be beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.
The space between them is swallowed in an instant. Anandi latches on to Lucinda’s neck and pulls, hard, down and back. Into the sea. A few steps is all she needs to get them knee-deep in the waves, and then she transforms. Her tail grows serpentine, long and slick. It wraps around Lucindas hocks, tugging her deeper into the water. If the game is not already over, it will be the instant Lucinda is off her feet.
Anandi speaks without unclenching her jaws, the word muffled as her tongue presses it into Lucinda’s bleeding flesh. “Beg.” She wants to taste the fear of a beautiful, dying thing.
Hunger corrupts, and absolute hunger
corrupts absolutely,
or almost.
Lucinda wonders if she's struck a nerve in the kelpie woman. The thought makes her heart race with anticipation. Will she do it? Does she dare? Maybe it's a bad move to be egging her on, but things in her life have fallen flat. She could use a little chaos to break up the monotony.
And chaos she would bring.
She can see it in the woman's eyes, in the curve of her mouth - and is that maybe a bit of saliva on the edge of her lips? Like a dog hungry for a bone. It is a kind of hunger, isn't it? That's all the woman must know with that ache lingering in her mind to turn someone. That must be all that kelpies are good for, spreading the plague. It's why others fear them. But Lucinda is not afraid.
Even when the woman in gray lunges forward, jaw outstretched and teeth sinking into her neck, she is not afraid. There is pain searing through her body, but she does not cry out like a weak foal. Her fury is reflected in her glowing green eyes as Anandi drags her down into the sea. She will quickly realize that Lucinda is no easy prey as she kicks out at the kelpie with her front legs. The water is slowing her down as is the other woman's weight, but she is determined to fight until her last dying breath.
Then she hears the word 'beg'. The audacity Anandi has is admirable, but still a joke. Lucinda laughs, or close enough to one while they're underwater. If the kelpie were to look into her eyes, they would say in your wildest dreams. Then further and further they go down into the sea.
Above them, Abraxia is angry. She dives into the water and digs her sharp talons into Anandi's back. The dragon attempts to pull the woman off of Lucinda or hopefully do enough damage to loosen her grip. Lu still tries to kick, ignoring the pounding in her head and the blurriness of her vision.
Do it, I dare you. Kill me. You'll just become my dragon's next meal.
She wonders if Anandi will even have the stomach to kill her. No matter what happens in the next few moments, the kelpie will feel her dragon's wrath afterwards. It could very well be the last thing she ever feels.
The pleasure of this moment will only exist in memory; the same for pain. Joy, regret, anger, all of it will only come after. In the moment itself, all she feels is instinct. The primitive self, fulfilled. Overflowing. Complete clarity of intent: Bite, drag, lick, twist. This is what she was made for; priestess of blood. Saint of unbecoming. She laughs, the sound muffled like a kiss in Lucinda’s blood-slick neck.
This is what it means to be holy.
She’s waiting for the fear. It colors the blood, sweetens the flesh. Most importantly, it means she’s won. A single tremor of terror and she would end it all, triumphant. Instead she hears strangled laughter. Laughter, the audacity. Anandi snarls and tightens her grip, dragging her prey deeper into the dark water.
And then there is a dragon suddenly swooping in. She rolls to the left, but sees him too late to dodge completely. The rake of his claws in her shoulder is distinct: three long slashes in the supple silver-grey of her thick skin. Pain is not a feeling but a color, a smear of crimson on a black curtain. She screams, enraged, then bites Lucinda again, this time in the jugular. A bite to kill.
Anandi pulls the pegasus down into the water, dragging her beneath the surface where the dragon could not strike. She wraps her long tail around the other mare’s body and she drowns her in that serpentine embrace.
But you see, for a kelpie there are instincts even stronger than killing. Even stronger than eating.
Anandi is the facade of a girl hiding a monster hiding a god. And like any god, all she really wants is to create.
This is what it means to be holy.
The pegasus would wake up the next day on the shoreline with a headache and a hunger. Anandi would not be there to teach her how to survive as a kelpie. The woman would learn, or she would die.
Hunger corrupts, and absolute hunger
corrupts absolutely,
or almost.
The stranger smells like a bouquet Anandi was given once. It was a fragrant, dusty thing, full of desert flowers and herbs; the scent of it forever tied subliminally to a girl with two names and a hurlbat.
