Moira - - like a phoenix from the ashes, she shall rise
Seasons have come and gone like leaves upon the trees that freely gift their sons and daughters back into the arms of the earth. Moira was not taught to believe in such deities though, gods of the earth and sky and rolling hills. She practices what she knows, follows the science she can see, and stocks up on supplies when they run low. Her heart beats frantically for one who she has yet to confess to, a nervousness flits in her stomach that comes unbidden at the most inopportune of times. Golden eyes can hardly meet swirly chocolate depths that are made of colors even her paints struggle to reach. Perhaps charcoal - how many portraits and half finished smiles lie waiting for her to look upon them in her chambers and tucked into library books that haven't been seen for ages? Perhaps he's an addiction taken root, a stone thrown in a pond with the ripples reaching even her distant heart, an itch she can't quite reach but how she tries to. Someday, maybe, Moira will be able to look at him instead of laughing into a cup of tea and trying to figure out what to say next. While she's never been the most social, the phoenix is usually more adept at the art of conversation and intrigue than murmured responses and blushing, bumbling, unsatisfactory replies. Lips curl down at the thought of it, the memory, and discontent sweeps in where a strange giddiness once stood. Dark and ominous, it accompanies her journey over the lands, further and further with only her thoughts and wings that flex ever so oft. Caine should have taught her to fly, but then he became busy and distant. Oh, the man infuriates her anyway. Simply to spite him she works at it on her own; red pinions flexing and pulling in against their every will to tuck once more firmly against the Pegasus' side. They reach toward the heavens that watch her, starlight winking with secrets that would taste like honeyed poison should she try to pry them from the icy grip. Hours pass endlessly, how many she lost count. Unicorns and Pegasi and gypsy boys that smell of the sea and softness run through her mind on repeat. Boys who spout of love and foolery about a girl who makes them stronger run rampant around the edges, chafing her and the words she so foolishly uttered. But they were the truth - her truth. Just before dawn is when she stumbles into the plains, feet heavy and tired as the drooping of her eyes. Eyes that are drawn to the pulsing light between two hills... Curiosity visibly brightens her, brings spirit back into her body and pulls her weary legs a little higher. Wings flex, extend, pump, retract. Over and over the motion is practiced as Moira Tonnerre approaches the mysterious glow. Were she with a companion perhaps she would advise they leave, but Moira is so reckless when alone, so prone to dreaming when awake, and finding something strange, something new has always been a lure. Golden eyes fall on golden pool, the surface too bright to look at directly. It's burning magnesium - brilliant and blinding should she stare. Circling about the edge, the woman finds evidence of others in the tracks left behind. Some lead to the water that ripples invitingly, others hesitate and turn as though continuing was ill advised. But which was correct, and where are they now? Humming, Moira finds a small divot in the ground where a body may have been, there she turns away from the pool and finally lies down. Head rests heavily upon the soil, water laps at her back and lulls her into tranquility that pulls her into a dreamless slumber. Seasons come and go like the hours that she passes in her sleep. |
@Random Events
***STAFF EDIT
@Moirahas rolled a 6! She has been awarded +150 signos point for interacting with the pool.
