[P] the curious mind expands forever

[Emersyn]

Hello, hello, hello, beautiful stranger,
how familiar the danger,
slipping into the shadows.

Emersyn hazards a guess and thinks that Maerys might be an apologizer.  She counts down the seconds that it takes before the first apology slips from the mare's lips.  

.. five, six, seven ..

Emersyn anticipates the apology, she wants it, it both thrills and unwinds her. 


.. ten, eleven, twelve ..


Maerys vindicates herself - so freely, it seems a sweet relief - and Emersyn takes all of it like it is some sort of sacrifice.   She deserves none of it but Maerys doesn't know that.  

'My apologies'  (how tender), her accent and cadence makes her seem all that much more gentle and exquisite. Emersyn appreciates the tone in her shoulders as the light plays off of the curves of trained muscle.  She is rose-gold in the light, one of Emersyn's favorite colors, and the honey sweet disposition attracts her.  She is no bee however, a wasp.

"You certainly caught my attention tonight.  I admire your courage to stand up and speak out."  Emersyn admits finally.  Her voice is as dusty as the shelves she is leaning against, and as dark as the shadows between the cracks between the floorboards.  In this light, the emissary seems far more sinister as the black in her cheeks cut deep, straight lines down the length of her white-white face.  The rest of her is the same hazy gray in the din of the evening light.  Her presence feels both phantasmal and meddlesome like a poltergeist. 


She smiles.  It is like a knife flashing in the dark.
Like a scythe. So bright.
Sharp.  Fleeting.
Handsome.

"I must to tell you a secret .. "

" I am the one who found them all.  I waited so long before I said anything.  It took me a full moon cycle to document them all.  The unicorn was very new, I was finishing his obituary when you first came into the meeting .. "  She drifts for a moment, remembering the long night she spent sketching the missing pieces in the unicorn's face.  Then she continued, "You can direct your anger to me and speak your sorrows to the dead if it will bring you peace, I will take you there."  


Her own sorrow is a tangible thing, it projects from a fragment of wintry magic embedded into her brow as a small, meaningless crystal of snow.  From it, a creeping chill scumbles across the shallows of the nook but it doesn't last long.  That might only be because her sorrow is a silk flower, a fake.  It is only a parlor trick, one of many. 

Two blue eyes glow like moon-filled rivers, ominous and mantic, they are flashing and alive, she could drown Maerys in them if she so chose to. "What I am saying is, if I reported one body, nobody would listen - but, if I reported thirteen, it suddenly becomes an outrage.  Why do we only respond to tragedies?"  Singularities are almost always overlooked.  "It makes me laugh.  Thinking about how ridiculous that is."

The origin of the emotion she places in her words is unknown but neither is it empty-hearted.  Wherever it comes from, one should not look too deep into the abyss to search for it.  As if to punctuate the danger that lurks in the air, the candle flame jumps three times, flickering like an s.o.s. . "Do you still think you owe me an apology?  Am I not the one who should be apologizing to you?"



~~~

@Maerys  <3