[AW] misguided ghosts

[Aislinn]

Aislinn  magical, wild thing you are She was wickedness clothed in smoke and shadow; her fury tangible and building like the promise of an on-coming summer storm. The stars behind her blinked and shimmered sweet nothings and the raw reminder of this place; the cracked and bleeding thing that was her heart that now thundered like a churning hurricane in her chest. She could have sworn that the air around her vibrated and thrummed to the beat of it's madness; but no, not now. Her anger fueled the blood that ran like liquid fire through her veins, her frustration turning her gaze into flames of brightest blue, her heartache a match next to the gasoline of annoyance bubbling in her very core. Aislinn was a singer of storms and cyclones, a daughter of Calligo's great darkness and the chosen king's Champion of Battle. A warrior, a defender, a destroyer. And she would not let puny sand-suckers forget such a thing so easily. Her gaze roved over the bodies crowding the stone citadel; ever watchful, ever marking her targets of interest. The blue woman's mocking laughter simmered the raging seas in her lungs, her words viperous and dripping with disdain. Aislinn's delicate ears pinned flat against her skull as her gaze narrowed on the other woman of Night, a muscle twitching in her brow. A retort of equal sarcasm nearly touched her lips when the silver man's remark struck lightning through the growing storm clouds gathering in her dark. "I don't believe I was speaking to you, wyrm," she ground out, her voice raspy and gritted through her teeth as she spoke. Go back to your sand of lifeless soil and rot. @freya @Raum The girl of red and gold sunbursts strode forward next, all at one the center stage of attention that drew the fae's gaze to her small and freckled frame. Her original target, the little thing snickered and eyed her with orbs made of emerald daggers; her words, however, dripped with a poison that could have been lethal to anyone with a weaker backbone than she. Had Aislinn known any better, she would have guessed the girl could have been far older than she appeared.. but the knowledge of the youngling's true age had the oxygen in her lungs burning like untamed wildfires. To be so young, and so utterly disrespectful. Her lack of patience was palpable; Aislinn's face screwing up in a shadowed mask of barely-controlled anger. "You will not dismiss me so easily." @Mila The stormsinger's great wings began to slowly unfurl as every nerve in her strong body scorched like hot coals; her muscles tightening in anticipation, struck by swords of electricity that ran the length of her spine. A living, breathing storm.. and if she had any drop of magic in her blood, then and only then could she truly move mountains in her anger's wake. Slowly, so so slowly, Aislinn's gaze turned towards the third woman in the room. A lovely thing of rose-colored gold, and perfumed with the stench of dry, cracked earth. She spoke of her king so easily, and without hesitation; that very fact sparking a shred of tangy surprise in the stormsinger. His voice haunted her then; forcing the words that were on repeat back into her waking thoughts. But it was quickly extinguished by her anger instead, the crimson waves of scarlet flooding from her and turning her vision so very red. She rose her chin, defiant and suspicious, her voice clipped as she spoke: "I do not require his orders to do what I think is right to protect my people." @rhoswen Her gaze narrowed even further -- barely slivers of of blue flame through thick lashes as she turned to face them all. "And I believe that you filth are exactly what I need to protect them against." And finally, she shifted to take in the mass of the man that stood before her; easily dwarfing her with his stature. He was intimidating in his size, and the curious spines that ran the length of his chest. She bore into him with her breath coming in raged pants of broiling fury; not once flinching as she glared at him with blue flames that could have singed a lesser man's soul. Her wings extended to their near full span, she watched with a warrior's stance as he -- Torstein -- approached with no second thought to her personal space. Nearly chest to chest they were; he of several hands that stood above her like a tower of muscle and sharp horns, and her of fierce hurricanes and night-blessed stars. She had to crane her slender neck back to keep him eye to eye, but she was not afraid. For what he had in brute size and strength, she had in speed, should things come to a brawl of bruised and bloodied knuckles. @Torstein Why so much disdain? Does being a birdfetching dog not suit your pretty feathers? A muscle tensed and furrowed in her upper lip as she cracked her neck in retort. Aislinn nearly snarled, her lips curling backward in a wicked grin that spoke of horrors and the destruction of tsunamis. She stretched her neck as far as she could reach so her lips were close to his ears, her voice thick with her anger and burning with the shock of lightning strikes. "You tell me I'm a dog when no one has seen your desert king step foot outside of your kingdom. Does being a coward's protector set your heart in higher places?" Aislinn retreated, her grin a phantom of every emotion that carefully burned and twisted in her stomach and coursed through the blood thundering in her veins. "That's right. You don't have any problems with that, now do you?" ... I do not know how to be on vacation xD @freya @Raum @mila @rhoswen @Torstein hollyyyyy moly this took a while to figure out how she'd react! tagged each of you lovelies in the paragraphs where your babes are mentioned! "Aislinn speech." ★