AISLINN
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
Autumn's gold-dusted fingers touched every nook and cranny and crevice, burnishing the land with amber and burnt umber and fiery crimson. Calligo's shadows had grown long and lazy and beautifully dark as the days had become shorter and shorter, the promise of winter on their horizon. With each passing day, her Goddess conquered their skies for longer periods of time — her shadows and smoke and glimmering stars most welcome. Her passion and fierceness a divine pillar for the gypsy warrior who had called Her Court home.
The shift of autumn did not quell her thirst for thunderstorms and chaos. In fact, nothing could keep her away from the threat of rain and crackling lightning that pierced across the sky in sheer swords of ivory. Night had once more graced her skies, but instead of an endless expanse of ebony black and opalescent stars, she was met with a painted sky of indigo and cobalt and flashes of white light; much like the colors of storms brushing her seal bay skin and the moonlight silk of her mane and wings. For the sweet bliss of sleep could not claim their storm daughter on this night — the lullaby of gathering discord in the shape of violet billows and the call of bloodied knuckles too much a vixen for her to ignore.
Not that she had wanted to pretend the storm and the Steppe did not flirt with her in raw, scarlet temptations.
So she had vanished from her tower, unlike any princess, but instead a warrior honed and bred for the battlefield. Her great wings aching for the taste of chilled night air upon each feathered plume, the threat of cold rain like a drug that had the blood in her veins singing. Without hesitation, the stormsinger had taken flight; bursting through the wide open expanse of her windows and soaring beneath the low-hanging clouds across the angry sea. She spiraled, down down down, until she touched down on the bloodstained earth that was the Bellum Steppe. Her plateau, her training ground, her release, her need for war; bound and flattened into an expanse of land that had tasted blood, sweat, and tears.
A thin layer of sweat glistened along her shadowed coat as a shock of lightning shattered across the sky. So much in her element, the stormsinger stood proudly, defiantly, with her gaze of blue scanning the mist and shadow along the tree line. She, the embodiment of hurricanes and stardust, who dared challenge any who take her silent offer, despite knowing how her last encounter had fared. Her emotions had been wrecked; the carefully plaited armor she had created broken and useless against the ache of her once-bleeding heart.
She did not come to make the same mistake a second time.
Licking her lips slowly, deliberately, she stood still. A statue of ink and stone, unafraid of the storm as much as the storm was unafraid of her. With a slow, collective breath, the sky began to open up; rain falling in slow patters, then quickly massing into sheets of liquid steel. Every drop along her skin sent shards of glass in her veins, and shivers of ice dancing down her spine. But she did not falter; until at long last, her nostrils flared with the heavy, sickening musk of desert sands. In the shadows, she saw him — only a glance of quick silver and gold — but it was enough. His stench of scorched earth and flames was a rot that she could not forget, not when she had been face to face with their sun King's warden not long ago.
"You seem to be out of place here, Solterran." A coy, near arrogant smile tugged at one side of her supple lips, her gaze bright and as sharp as daggers of blue fire. Accusing. Taunting. She huffed air through her nostrils as her gaze narrowed through thick lashes, baiting the sand viper to come out and play where the earth had begun to softened under rain. A raspy chuckle rumbled deep in her throat as another burst of lightning illuminated her from her backside; brightening the edges around her and darkening the front side of her frame with smoke and shadows. "What say you? Your god is fast asleep."
@velorca let's do this thanggg
Pffft this thread name was 1000% inspired by sailor jupiter from sailor moon and I have no shame. No shame.
SHE TASTES LIKE MOONBEAMS AND LAVENDER
Autumn's gold-dusted fingers touched every nook and cranny and crevice, burnishing the land with amber and burnt umber and fiery crimson. Calligo's shadows had grown long and lazy and beautifully dark as the days had become shorter and shorter, the promise of winter on their horizon. With each passing day, her Goddess conquered their skies for longer periods of time — her shadows and smoke and glimmering stars most welcome. Her passion and fierceness a divine pillar for the gypsy warrior who had called Her Court home.
The shift of autumn did not quell her thirst for thunderstorms and chaos. In fact, nothing could keep her away from the threat of rain and crackling lightning that pierced across the sky in sheer swords of ivory. Night had once more graced her skies, but instead of an endless expanse of ebony black and opalescent stars, she was met with a painted sky of indigo and cobalt and flashes of white light; much like the colors of storms brushing her seal bay skin and the moonlight silk of her mane and wings. For the sweet bliss of sleep could not claim their storm daughter on this night — the lullaby of gathering discord in the shape of violet billows and the call of bloodied knuckles too much a vixen for her to ignore.
Not that she had wanted to pretend the storm and the Steppe did not flirt with her in raw, scarlet temptations.
So she had vanished from her tower, unlike any princess, but instead a warrior honed and bred for the battlefield. Her great wings aching for the taste of chilled night air upon each feathered plume, the threat of cold rain like a drug that had the blood in her veins singing. Without hesitation, the stormsinger had taken flight; bursting through the wide open expanse of her windows and soaring beneath the low-hanging clouds across the angry sea. She spiraled, down down down, until she touched down on the bloodstained earth that was the Bellum Steppe. Her plateau, her training ground, her release, her need for war; bound and flattened into an expanse of land that had tasted blood, sweat, and tears.
A thin layer of sweat glistened along her shadowed coat as a shock of lightning shattered across the sky. So much in her element, the stormsinger stood proudly, defiantly, with her gaze of blue scanning the mist and shadow along the tree line. She, the embodiment of hurricanes and stardust, who dared challenge any who take her silent offer, despite knowing how her last encounter had fared. Her emotions had been wrecked; the carefully plaited armor she had created broken and useless against the ache of her once-bleeding heart.
She did not come to make the same mistake a second time.
Licking her lips slowly, deliberately, she stood still. A statue of ink and stone, unafraid of the storm as much as the storm was unafraid of her. With a slow, collective breath, the sky began to open up; rain falling in slow patters, then quickly massing into sheets of liquid steel. Every drop along her skin sent shards of glass in her veins, and shivers of ice dancing down her spine. But she did not falter; until at long last, her nostrils flared with the heavy, sickening musk of desert sands. In the shadows, she saw him — only a glance of quick silver and gold — but it was enough. His stench of scorched earth and flames was a rot that she could not forget, not when she had been face to face with their sun King's warden not long ago.
"You seem to be out of place here, Solterran." A coy, near arrogant smile tugged at one side of her supple lips, her gaze bright and as sharp as daggers of blue fire. Accusing. Taunting. She huffed air through her nostrils as her gaze narrowed through thick lashes, baiting the sand viper to come out and play where the earth had begun to softened under rain. A raspy chuckle rumbled deep in her throat as another burst of lightning illuminated her from her backside; brightening the edges around her and darkening the front side of her frame with smoke and shadows. "What say you? Your god is fast asleep."
@velorca let's do this thanggg
Pffft this thread name was 1000% inspired by sailor jupiter from sailor moon and I have no shame. No shame.
Summary: Ash — storm addict she is, gosh — goes to the Steppe to kick some booty when she sees Lorca and *ding ding ding* You have been challenged by Trainer Roo!
Attack Used: 0
Attack(s) Left: 2
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: ---
Response Deadline: 19 October
Tags: @velorca @kay @inkbone @sid
Attack Used: 0
Attack(s) Left: 2
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: ---
Response Deadline: 19 October
Tags: @velorca @
