[P] VALLEY GIRLS

[Bexley]

Hot. Hot. Unexpectedly hot. Bexley wouldn't say she's uncomfortable so much as caught off guard. It was supposed to be cooler at this time in the morning, but sweat is already building at the base of her flurrying curls. The paths she's taken to get here were all cool and rain-splattered, so that even when the sun did shine, the world steamed instead of baked, providing some relief; there were crowding, towering trees and bushes flecked with rain drops to brush up against or drop shadows on the road, and Bexley was never forced to sweat. But this? This is different. It's early morning and already balmy, with sunlight reflecting against the reddish dunes to become twice as hot on the way back up again. Bex is hotblooded by nature - physically and otherwise - and had looked at the upcoming desert on her trek here with a dull kind of excitement. Like summer, if summer was a place!

Except her last summer was so hazy with grief that Bex can't even really recall it, and the one before that she was so young as to be completely stupid, and the one before that she was barely a kid. So, she realizes, her love for summer is truly unfounded. All this sloughing through the sand might make her muscles unsightly; the gushes of hot wind coming from far away are definitely going to flatten her curls; and anything more than a light sheen of sweat is not a good look for her. Bex wrinkles her nose and decides she won't be hanging out in any more deserts if she can help it. Even if they are beautiful, in an arid, hazy-red, broken down kind of way.

Bex picks up her feet and attempts to walk a little faster. It can't be that big of a desert, can it? She heard the rest of the Day court was near here somewhere, which means it has to be accessible, to a point. Nostrils flaring with impatience, Bex steels her resolve, that innate stubbornness rising as instantly as if a button had been pushed to turn it on, lowers her head to the wind, and trudges forward, melting into the hot grip of the sun.

@rhoswen 

love, space

[Rhoswen]

RHOSWEN,

Rhoswen had fallen in love with the desert the moment she had laid her eyes upon it. There was something romantic in the desolate aridity of the dunes, something she couldn't quite place - perhaps she didn't want to. She was a passionate creature, alive with fire and brimstone - her skin a layer of silver-kissed smoke barely masking the inferno within. Dancing with the wind, Rhoswen cavorted across the dunes; relishing the way the blistering heat set her muscles alight. There was pleasure to be found in pain. She grasped at the sight of freedom dangling on a thread just inches ahead; fighting for it, almost desperately. Is this what it felt like to be free? Why then could she feel still the hands of something nebulous and nameless gripping at her throat? What was she missing? The red-haired girl snorted, digging her heels into the sand - sending waves of gold flying about her as she slid to a halt. Frustration momentarily melded violently with fervor; many miles Rhoswen had run from that choking sensation - she'd left everything she had ever known behind. How could it still claw at her so?

The sound of footsteps came quite suddenly, causing Rhos' to turn those eerie eyes and high set cheekbones in the direction of this stranger. Shaking out her thick curls, Rhos pivoted to face what appeared to be a girl, well of course a girl: those hips and dainty limbs did not lie. The scent of Solterra clung to this golden-skinned woman, and to this Rhoswen flashed a dauntless smile; it tore across her lips like gasoline upon an oil-slick. This may well be her first encounter with her new court; it had been but a hot minute since she had joined after all. "Salutations, darling."




 

@Bexley boop <3

[Bexley]

The smell of home - Day Court, downwind - salt and sun breaking through the dusty aura of the all-encompassing sand.  Something sharp and electric that could be excitement or apprehension. Bexley ignores it. Instead, she raises that gently carved head of hers, thick lashes squinting against the sun, and stares out until she finds the source of the scent, a girl, her own age. Blessing on legs. Iridescently silvery skin and miles of red curls in a sanguine pantomime of Bexley’s own white hair, her dark gray eyes cold and intriguing, giving off the warm, dangerous aura of someone Bexley wants to be on her good side. There's still a lot of information to be gathered about whoever this really is before any decisions are made, but Bexley is a girl who trusts her intuition, and right now it's lit up warm, like a hundred pink sunsets.

Salutations, darling. Bex tilts her head and grins. They’re going to be good somethings, that’s for sure. Heat is blazing across the dunes, turning Bex’s golden skin liquid, but she ignores it, watching the dangerously feminine lines of her new friend’s face (and body) shift. The whole situation is wildly intriguing. Bexley sidles forward, picking her way carefully through the crimson sand, and sings, “Hi, sweetheart!” Those blonde-red eyelashes are batting now of their own volition; Bex finds herself almost smiling. “I’m Bexley, but you - you can call me whatever you want.”

@rhoswen beauts

love, space

[Rhoswen]

RHOSWEN,

They stand together, alight, ferocious. Burning creatures in the sand. Rhoswen did not flinch from the searing gaze this girl threw upon her skin, words of silk and saturated nectar lilting into the air. There was something caustic about this golden child, something that reminded Rhos of herself even, and at this a marriage of excitement and antagonism rose in her throat. Naturally, the red-head was competitive, viciously so, but she did not feel threatened by her fellow desert dweller. Instead she listened to the kindred spirit humming in the channel between them both; fervently alive. "Why then, I should have to call you beautiful," a laugh - it suited her, laughter, "My father called me Rhoswen, he always told me it meant blessed rose." She looked away for a moment, rolling her eyes, "fuck roses, I'd rather be nightshade."

@Bexley sorry it is so short!! <3

[Bexley]

The stare passed between them is alight with excitement. What’s going to happen? Who is this girl, and what kind of storm is being kept just under that silver skin? Bexley is sure, instinctually and completely convinced, that there is more to either of them than meets the eye. She leans onto a back leg and relaxes. They are two sides of the same coin. One silver, one gold, both sun-dazed and sweet-smelling, these girls of fire and brimstone as well as of curls and pink-stained cheeks. Bex flicks an ear distractedly. Her mouth is suddenly hot, her brain sharp with possibility. She watches the girl through half-closed lashes with an animal curiosity.

Why then, I should have to call you beautiful - and Bexley, predictably shallow, and overwhelmed by a rush of almost sisterly affection, breaks into that shark-toothed grin, not bothering to sugarcoat it for someone who looks to be as venomous as she is. Fuck roses, I’d rather be nightshade. The smirk sharpens. “A girl after my own heart.” She purses her lips, thinking, and throws an errant, silky curl that’s drifted toward her cheek back to join the rest of her hair. “So, nightshade, what are you doing here?” Bex steps forward, gently, carefully, closing the distance between them. “Wreaking any havoc yet?”


@rhoswen<333

love, space

[Rhoswen]

RHOSWEN,

Having only dressed herself in the cloth of Day Court for a mere three weeks, Rhoswen had not yet found herself gravitating to any one particular character. In Denocte, she had been the centre of a wide circle of friends, of course she had - beautiful, dazzling Rhoswen with her father's wealth dangling from her dainty wrists. Here, though, she was almost an outsider; a newcomer, a trespasser owing her birthright to Calligo. Day Courtians polished their words with iron armour, they carried spears between their teeth, they were ablaze and Rhoswen was in love with it all. She relished the challenge, for as delicate as she might have appeared the sanguine girl was but a bloodshot hurricane inflicting her chaos upon the horizon. Most importantly, it seemed this girl opposite was not much different. "I've always loved the desert - such beautiful dereliction." A hot wind tossed her curls as she gazed out over the dunes before turning her burning focus back to Bexley, "No havoc yet, though I have a strange feeling that might change, soon." A grin. "I've not yet been afforded the pleasure of making our new King's acquaintance, have you been so lucky?" The sarcasm dripping from her lips betrayed the innocent bat of her mink lashes. 

@Bexley *3000 years later Kezz finally posts this ickness*

[Bexley]

" BEXLEY BRIAR "

Bexley’s interest would not have doubled knowing of Rhoswen’s birthplace, being so new to Novus that the name “Calligo” means almost nothing to her, and yet still she senses something sub-surface in her carmine companion: something not bothersome but obviously out of place, which makes Bexley feel better about her own novel presence in the desert. While neither of them may be Day-Court trained - the kind of calculated violence that lines girls’ pockets with knives, makes men practiced in bow-and-arrow warfare - they are still dangerous as much as any of their peers, in a subtle way of bitter lipstick and bone-white teeth, or ribbons used as nooses. It’s intoxicating.

At the mention of Maxence, Bexley’s nostrils flare, her eyes go cold with derision. A guttural sigh floods from those pale lips. Lucky, she scoffs, with no small amount of dry humor. Bexley is a creature built for pleasure, and interactions with her Day Court monarch have left her wanting - pleasure would not be the first adjective that comes to mind. Her teeth grind before stretching to a grin. I would say he’d be luckier to meet you than the other way around. But I can’t imagine he’d think the same. Bexley snorts, an exhale rife with exasperation. 

@rhoswen <3

love, space