✩ v i r u n ✩
I couldn't hide from the thunder
in a sky full of song
Virun wanted to go home.
She wanted desperately to return to her more comfortable, academic lifestyle. Terrastella hadn’t been unkind to her, but her friends hadn’t returned to her, and she felt horribly, horribly alone. She wanted her books, again, and her spells – and, even more desperately, she wanted her family. For that, she had risked the crowded, rugged trek to Veneror. If she could find the gods, they might be able to send her home.
Even though she couldn’t see her surroundings, the tension in the air was palpable. She lingered awkwardly among the throng of bodies, vaguely aware that she was surrounded by Terrastellans that she was vaguely acquainted with and-
“Hey.” Loud as a foghorn – and right by one of her curling ears.
Virun nearly jumped out of her skin.
Even if she hadn’t been blind, the sudden appearance of a strange man beside of her, yelling into her ear, would probably have startled her. However, as she was blind, she stumbled backwards with an unceremonious squeak, her hooves tangling in her genuinely excessive tresses; desperate to maintain her balance, her massive wings snapped out, and, while she was far too frazzled to genuinely process her surroundings, she might well have smacked the approaching stranger with them, considering his apparent disregard for personal space. As she steadied herself, her head whipped around wildly as she attempted to pinpoint the direction of the voice – she’d gotten turned around, however, so she was pretty sure that she was looking in the wrong direction entirely, and quickly gave up. What the hell had been important enough to-
Her mind stumbled backwards, and she attempted to remember what he had just asked her. It must have been important. At such a solemn meeting, so tense and historic, it couldn’t be anything less than dire. But wait. Hadn’t he said…
"What are we all waiting for? Where's the drinks?"
No. That was completely and utterly ridiculous. She had been startled, so she must have misheard him; that was the only possible explanation. She blinked, scouring her brain for words that sounded like “drinks.” Minx? Jinx? Lynx? Unlinks? Precin-
The wind chose that precise moment to shift directions, and she might as well have been whacked across the face with the overwhelming stench of alcohol. Virun came to the sudden, horrifying realization that, whoever this strange man was, he was very, very drunk, and very, very confused. Clearly, he didn’t know where he was, or what was going on – otherwise, he couldn’t possibly be acting like this. They stood in the presence of the divine.
She was reasonably sure that she could get drunk off the alcohol radiating off of him, but, at the very least, it allowed her to turn to look at him. (Was there a bar on Veneror that she didn’t know about? Good gods.) “What are you talking about?” In spite of her best attempts to sound like she was anything less than utterly dumbfounded and mortified, she was reasonably sure that she sounded much like a prisoner being led to a guillotine. “What drinks? This is a meeting with the gods, and the regimes are trapped.” It didn’t occur to Virun, who was terribly sheltered on a good day, that this explanation might do little to clarify the gravity of their present situation to a man so inebriated; then again, she wasn’t the best at explanations for people who were completely sober, either.
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tags | @sacha
notes | I love him so much. Virun, however, has no clue what's going on.
I couldn't hide from the thunder
in a sky full of song
Virun wanted to go home.
She wanted desperately to return to her more comfortable, academic lifestyle. Terrastella hadn’t been unkind to her, but her friends hadn’t returned to her, and she felt horribly, horribly alone. She wanted her books, again, and her spells – and, even more desperately, she wanted her family. For that, she had risked the crowded, rugged trek to Veneror. If she could find the gods, they might be able to send her home.
Even though she couldn’t see her surroundings, the tension in the air was palpable. She lingered awkwardly among the throng of bodies, vaguely aware that she was surrounded by Terrastellans that she was vaguely acquainted with and-
“Hey.” Loud as a foghorn – and right by one of her curling ears.
Virun nearly jumped out of her skin.
Even if she hadn’t been blind, the sudden appearance of a strange man beside of her, yelling into her ear, would probably have startled her. However, as she was blind, she stumbled backwards with an unceremonious squeak, her hooves tangling in her genuinely excessive tresses; desperate to maintain her balance, her massive wings snapped out, and, while she was far too frazzled to genuinely process her surroundings, she might well have smacked the approaching stranger with them, considering his apparent disregard for personal space. As she steadied herself, her head whipped around wildly as she attempted to pinpoint the direction of the voice – she’d gotten turned around, however, so she was pretty sure that she was looking in the wrong direction entirely, and quickly gave up. What the hell had been important enough to-
Her mind stumbled backwards, and she attempted to remember what he had just asked her. It must have been important. At such a solemn meeting, so tense and historic, it couldn’t be anything less than dire. But wait. Hadn’t he said…
"What are we all waiting for? Where's the drinks?"
No. That was completely and utterly ridiculous. She had been startled, so she must have misheard him; that was the only possible explanation. She blinked, scouring her brain for words that sounded like “drinks.” Minx? Jinx? Lynx? Unlinks? Precin-
The wind chose that precise moment to shift directions, and she might as well have been whacked across the face with the overwhelming stench of alcohol. Virun came to the sudden, horrifying realization that, whoever this strange man was, he was very, very drunk, and very, very confused. Clearly, he didn’t know where he was, or what was going on – otherwise, he couldn’t possibly be acting like this. They stood in the presence of the divine.
She was reasonably sure that she could get drunk off the alcohol radiating off of him, but, at the very least, it allowed her to turn to look at him. (Was there a bar on Veneror that she didn’t know about? Good gods.) “What are you talking about?” In spite of her best attempts to sound like she was anything less than utterly dumbfounded and mortified, she was reasonably sure that she sounded much like a prisoner being led to a guillotine. “What drinks? This is a meeting with the gods, and the regimes are trapped.” It didn’t occur to Virun, who was terribly sheltered on a good day, that this explanation might do little to clarify the gravity of their present situation to a man so inebriated; then again, she wasn’t the best at explanations for people who were completely sober, either.
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tags | @sacha
notes | I love him so much. Virun, however, has no clue what's going on.
