[AW] Painted Souls

[Aislinn]

HE USED TO CALL ME DN THAT STOOD FOR DEADLY NIGHTSHADE CAUSE I WAS FILLED WITH POISON BUT BLESSED WITH BEAUTY AND RAGE In the cavernous throne room, a stormsinger and a kirin smile, and her heart swells at the sight of him. She had not realized how her much she had longed to see the warmth in his familiar face. And in this room, in a kingdom that was slowly becoming apart of her; in the way her heart was sewn in the colors of twilight falling on an unsuspecting sky, and stars awoke on an expanse of watery pinks and gold and violet as deep as Calligo's bruised knuckles.. Aislinn was glad. Glad for the strings of fate that have brought her to this place, these people. Although she was her goddess's daughter, a Child of the Night, Dusk now held her by a finger — like a child holding onto their mother's hand. A tender touch; a gentle one. And she stepped into it gladly, basking in the crystalline light inside the room and out of the shadows. With him, by her friend's side. The smile that curves her lips is softer than the downy feathers of her angel's wings. It has been far too long, my friend. Far too long. "I cannot begin to tell you how good it is to see you again," she tells him. Aislinn feels the relief wash over her soul, for it is not the crash of ocean waves and tears on atop a cliff. But instead, a sea breeze that invites storms into an intimate grasp — wicked and wrought in a lovely sort of chaos. Befitting of two souls that share gypsy hearts born for adventure. Those memories bring her a comfort, a light in the dark. And she desperately holds onto that flickering light, that beacon in the darkness that grows. Now, Isorath's voice finds her, unknowingly freeing a shadow that bursts forth like a beast who devours the sky's brightest stars. Tell me, where have you been? She did not want to think of her absence, or her cowardice, or the darkness that gnawed at her insides in phantom claws. Without her consent, the memories of her time away flooded; an abyss of tears wider than the mouth of any monster she could face. Her grief would be the worst of those monsters, and her guilt. In only a moment, a heartbeat, she remembered. Flickers of emerald fire burning a pyre for grandma'ma's wake; the salt burning in her lips and eyes and staining the silk of her cheeks; and the blood of torn knuckles and purple bruises, deeper than the darkness of Calligo's skies. But she did not voice these memories; she did not breathe life to them. Aislinn's mind wrapped them into chains of silver and gold and starlight, before she locked them into a vault crafted of moonstone and adamant. For safe keeping, a voice whispers. Her voice. Not tonight.. she would not — could not — speak of them just yet. The corner of her mouth simply curls, shadowed in the light of the room and in Isorath's welcome presence. Her voice is nearly suspiciously soft as she sighs: "Everywhere and nowwhere." The blue flames of her eyes are icy orbs that burn and cool and frost over with each blink that hides those memories. And before she realizes it, her hooves are moving.. for is she ever truly still? Her own heart has warmed at his caring words, but now she looks up at Isorath through a thick of lashes dark with unsaid words. The bright of her gaze lands on the diadem swirling in opals upon his head, and oh, how it fits there perfectly so. Her own eyebrows raise, shifting the light from her and setting it upon him — for he is a shimmering, painted star, amidst the crowds of twilight and growing shadows. She nods towards that diadem as they walk, her hooves carrying her without destination or rush. "It appears I have missed much in my time away." The words are hiding the heaviness that sits upon her shoulders, her wings; but also, there is a lightness that burns in truth. Reichenbach.. Florentine.. Asterion.. and now Isorath. So much has happened in a short time; now she is a stormsinger drowning in the consequences of her silence, and she does not know how to swim above the waves. It was as if the moment she stepped away from the shadows of Denocte and ice blanketed their world, reality shifted with each snowflake that fell. Beautiful and fragile and cruel. What had she done by walking away? I CAN HEAR SIRENS, SIRENS HE HIT ME AND IT FELT LIKE A KISS I CAN HEAR VIOLINS, VIOLINS GIVE ME ALL OF THAT ULTRAVIOLENCE @isorath !!! <3 "Aislinn speech."

SPACEGUESSWHO +