LOOK AT YOU KIDS, YOU KNOW YOU'RE THE COOLEST
THIS WORLD IS YOURS AND YOU CAN'T REFUSE IT
Colors swirled and morphed before her eyes, fighting and struggling to create definition; her Sight grasping desperately for a clear picture. Her rosy face screwed up in a grimace as she pushed harder still, a knot forming in her temple above her left eye as she did so. With a trio of blinks, her magic was blissfully unleashed; her vision suddenly crystal clear with a satisfying snap. The edges of her gaze were muddled and blurred as she hurriedly sifted through multiple overlapping timelines until she found the one she desired to See.. the crowned king under a goddess of onyx and galaxies. She did not hear her emissary's words of rustling through the meadow, instead focusing all of her energy to the power that swirled in her blood and bones. Her Sight showed her his face; the cool, near inky dark of his bronzed skin, and eyes like molten, miniature moons. Nimue was about to watch their meeting unfold before her very eyes when —
She heard him before she saw him melt from the obsidian shadows underneath the mountain — a true embodiment of the court he ruled. All shadows and smoke and stars.
Welcome to Denocte, Ipomoea.. Nimue.
Her Sight had not failed her, as she batted away her power, blinking as she watched him emerge before her for a second time. The rosy witch rose her chin, her haunting gaze narrowing as she took in the King of Thieves. He, of warmth and mystery and smoke, ever befitting of his title as the physical embodiment of Calligo. Reichenbach was all that his reputation had told him to be; passionate and unbound and emotional. Handsome too, she added. But she did not voice such things. Instead, the witch listened and waited. She did not falter at his rumbling voice formed her name; did not think twice of how the Night King knew of her, when they had not yet met. Surprise did not coat her tongue, and she did not waste a thought of such things. Nimue did not balk; instead, she was amused, a wicked grin tugging her ivory lips upwards into a cruel smile. Perhaps her reputation had reached across the neutral lands and into the corners of the star-kissed country of the demi-goddess. The thought brought a shred of contentment blooming in her chest.
Nimue could almost swear that the gathering shadows slithered and clung to every gods-damned blossom beneath the mountain; Calligo's fingers grazing every empty space with darkness. Her dappled skin crawled, either from the feeling of the shadows dancing across her rose-touched coat or from Ipomoea joining her. Either way, she did not care. She played the perfect part; shoving her discomfort and impatience down into a cage made of shining alabaster bone and adamant. Her Emissary's rambling of flowers had her almost grimacing, but her soft smile did not move, concreted onto her lips.
She would set fire to every one of those colorful weeds if it meant that her lord would never speak of them again.
King Kasil sends his regards from the Dawn Court. He had business in the capitol preventing him from accompanying us today. He sends Nimue and I in his stead.
Yes.. send the flower child and a witch together. What a grand idea. Nimue dipped her crown slowly in respect to the foreign, mysterious king. When she rose, her forelock fell perfectly down the center line of her delicate face; her haunting, blind eye and blue-violet orb open. She had half a thought to call her Sight once more, to See what was to be decided before they spoke. With a short inhale, the witch decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to do something to upset her King.. not when she had just been granted a role that she herself could thrive in. Then there was the other king, the man who stood before her now, with silver eyes and a star that gleamed where his third eye would be; like a constellation plucked from the night skies themselves.
"Your reputation proceeds you," she said simply, "King of Stars and Smoke."
She heard him before she saw him melt from the obsidian shadows underneath the mountain — a true embodiment of the court he ruled. All shadows and smoke and stars.
Welcome to Denocte, Ipomoea.. Nimue.
Her Sight had not failed her, as she batted away her power, blinking as she watched him emerge before her for a second time. The rosy witch rose her chin, her haunting gaze narrowing as she took in the King of Thieves. He, of warmth and mystery and smoke, ever befitting of his title as the physical embodiment of Calligo. Reichenbach was all that his reputation had told him to be; passionate and unbound and emotional. Handsome too, she added. But she did not voice such things. Instead, the witch listened and waited. She did not falter at his rumbling voice formed her name; did not think twice of how the Night King knew of her, when they had not yet met. Surprise did not coat her tongue, and she did not waste a thought of such things. Nimue did not balk; instead, she was amused, a wicked grin tugging her ivory lips upwards into a cruel smile. Perhaps her reputation had reached across the neutral lands and into the corners of the star-kissed country of the demi-goddess. The thought brought a shred of contentment blooming in her chest.
Nimue could almost swear that the gathering shadows slithered and clung to every gods-damned blossom beneath the mountain; Calligo's fingers grazing every empty space with darkness. Her dappled skin crawled, either from the feeling of the shadows dancing across her rose-touched coat or from Ipomoea joining her. Either way, she did not care. She played the perfect part; shoving her discomfort and impatience down into a cage made of shining alabaster bone and adamant. Her Emissary's rambling of flowers had her almost grimacing, but her soft smile did not move, concreted onto her lips.
She would set fire to every one of those colorful weeds if it meant that her lord would never speak of them again.
King Kasil sends his regards from the Dawn Court. He had business in the capitol preventing him from accompanying us today. He sends Nimue and I in his stead.
Yes.. send the flower child and a witch together. What a grand idea. Nimue dipped her crown slowly in respect to the foreign, mysterious king. When she rose, her forelock fell perfectly down the center line of her delicate face; her haunting, blind eye and blue-violet orb open. She had half a thought to call her Sight once more, to See what was to be decided before they spoke. With a short inhale, the witch decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to do something to upset her King.. not when she had just been granted a role that she herself could thrive in. Then there was the other king, the man who stood before her now, with silver eyes and a star that gleamed where his third eye would be; like a constellation plucked from the night skies themselves.
"Your reputation proceeds you," she said simply, "King of Stars and Smoke."
@ipomoea @reichenbach ♡
Do ittttt. She's so cranky omg.
"Nimue speech."
