He stretched and looked around through his blue eyes. Blinking at the dawning sunlight, he yawned and turned to look at his coat – it was always a marvel to him, the way it changed by the minute. But to his surprise, it was locked in a single color. He moved, and realized his stars didn’t move with him. His eyes widened. Now, he wasn’t a vain man by any means, but he was used to his coat changing colors to match the sky, and the stars would move to mirror the constellations he was under. He bolted and twisted to look. Nope. Not a single change. What was wrong with him? He stopped and spun, trying to get his coat to work again. Nope. With a groan he stamped the ground and wrinkled his nose. It would seem that his coat was going to mirror the night he was born. Five years ago. His coat was a dark blue with a healthy splash of stars. With a resigned sigh, he decided he needed to find out where he was, and why the magic stopped working. He had never really thought about it before, but now, without his coat doing what it did, he felt lost. He could no longer look at the constellations on his body and find his way. Now he had to rely on…well…the sun, and others. The thought scared him. He preferred solitude, but he wouldn’t turn away company if it came to him. He moved around slowly, each step falling precisely where it was meant to. His eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign, any obvious marking to tell him where he was. Without finding any, he continued on, through the few whispering trees and into the clearing. He could smell water. Turning his blue body, he headed straight for it, and took his time. He was not a hurried creature. While he was ambling, his mind went back to the days when he had a purpose – he was one of the Seven Binders; the seven great humans who were able to bind the greatest necromancer the world had ever seen. Each one had offered something to bind the creature and bury her as deep as they possibly could. Bone, metal, wood…each layer was imbued with their voice; each voice having a different effect. His voice was one that would fill the creature with sorrow, and throw it into death. He was proud to be able to be used for such a purpose. And with that, all of their voices had been turned into bells to be used by the good necromancers – the ones who put the dead to rest and protected the world. What greater honor could you possibly ask for? As the water approached quickly, his thoughts turned to the beauty of it. Clear, cold, wet. He stepped into it, until he was up to his knees in the refreshing ebb and flow. Lowering his head, he drafted a cool drink, marveling at the thought of taste. How strange that water had no discernable taste, and still, it was the most refreshing thing you could possibly ask for. The sound of hooves nearby called to his attention, and with a languid grace, he raised his head and turned, a half smile on his face to greet whomever it was that was approaching him.
lorious, blissful darkness. The inky black of a sky so clear the stars glittered brilliantly, dying supernovas that sprinkled the ebony ocean above her like shining pearls. Nimue basked underneath the expanse of stars, reveling in the sweet shadows of night. She was wondrously alone, the life at Court quiet and sleeping. Standing atop a small hill crest, Nimue stood as still as a statue. Her lids heavy and closed, the night air like spun sugar in her mouth. Marvelously alone with herself and her thoughts.
Blinking slowly, she opened her haunting eyes to the night, silently petitioning the gods. The only light save from the stars pulsed at her throat, the chunk of amethyst glowing a soft violet light onto the rosy femme. She meditated, clearing the cache of thoughts filtering through her. Her mind hyper focused on the sounds of the deep night, the hooting of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the cool spring breeze. Slowly the tension released from her muscles as she began to relax. Her ears flicked and honed onto the many sounds of the nocturnal wildlife. She smacked her lips together, her throat dry. Oh.
A simple fix. The soft sounds of running water rang in her ears. She trotted silently across the dewy grass towards the tree line, dipping her delicate crown underneath the branches. Each hoofbeat was precise, the woman's one blue-violet orb adjusted to the perfect obsidian of night. The silver moon hid her face on this night, a lack of moonlight guiding her way. Uneasiness did not course through her veins however. Her court was sleeping in their castle. Who else would be awake on such a night besides a witch?
The rush and trickling of water grew steadily louder. Only several meters now. She broke through the tree line to a clearing with a lovely view of the starry sky, the creek snaking through the trees. Her hooves dug deep into the damp earth, breath catching in her throat. She was not as alone as she thought she would be.. a muscular blue body stood up to his knees in the ebbing water, drinking from the sustenance. His body reflected with a smaller scale of the stars, bright as the night hanging above them. A familiar rush of -- love? -- anger burned in her veins. So much for meditation.. a physical materialization of her damnation stood before her. Either that or a mocking replica of the reason of her lost immortality from the gods. Damn them. Damn them all.
The world turned red around her as her anger surged into something sickeningly tangible. Her knees became jelly, wobbly, and at the same time, her muscles tensed until she was poised to strike. His head snapped up, turning towards her in that smile she -- craved? -- resented blooming on his face in welcome. "You." she spat at him, "Who sent you here? Did the gods bring you here to mock me?"
@astarael I'm sorry in advance for Nim's love/hate bi-polarness but yassss let's play <3
The night creatures stilled their songs as hooves neared him, a steady cadence that nearly lulled him to sleep. But he was ready to see who it was, to converse, possibly make friends, and to learn more about this place. How strange that he awoke here with no recollection of leaving the last place he’d been. Which was that? His mind was foggy and cloudy, and he struggled to remember. With a frustrated flip of his tail, he put the smile back on his face. In a moment, a fiery mare burst through the trees and seemed almost startled by his appearance. He wondered if it was because his stars didn’t move. It surprised him. Upset him, even. But he wasn’t sure if she even noticed, let alone cared. She neared enough to speak with him, and instead of a cordial greeting, she spit acrid words at him. His head raised up in surprise, eyes widening, and he twisted his head. Certainly she was referring to someone else. He had never seen her before, so she couldn’t be talking to him. After deciding there was nobody else here but he and her, he shook his head slowly, a ghost of a smile still lingering at his lips.
He spoke to her, his voice velvet and deep, usually soothing with a tinge of sadness. ”I apologize if my being here has startled you, but I believe you must have me confused with someone else? I don’t believe we’ve met…?” Ever the polite one, Astarael offered the mare ample time to respond before he continued. ”I am Astarael.” He stepped out of the water, nearer to her, but not near enough to be considered a confrontation. He wasn’t sure why she was angry, but didn’t want to push the issue. He offered her a polite dip of his head before returning his gaze to her. ”No gods sent me here that I am aware of, however I do not recall just how I came to be here.” His eyebrows wrinkled slightly, still perturbed at the mystery of how in the world he ended up here.
”Perhaps we can start with your name…?” His voice was gentle, his tone curious. ”And who you think I am?”
he glade had become washed in bright crimson before her eyes. Anger broiled in her blood, longing sang in her soul, and anguish shredded the strings of her heart. He stood there, in the flesh, not more than a few meters ahead of her. Not a figment of her imagination, a barely-remembered dream, a memory.. no. Physical, tangible, and breathing.. looking at her and shaking his head slowly. The crimson in her vision began to ebb away, fading back to the natural colors of night around them. Her breath came out slowly through her mouth as she exhaled, ears twitching as she awaited his reply.
Her heart was heavy in her chest, a rocky crater with fissures that grew wider with each of his words. His voice.. the sadness there nearly undetectable, if the mare had not once watched the beginning, middle, and yes, even the end, of his life once before. In another place, another timeline, when she was once a goddess of the Sight. Reality crashed around her in ruins. Of course.. of course they would not have met. Not physically. She had only watched him from afar; falling madly for him with the folds of space and time between them. Her love for him was her damnation; a true seed of hatred burning in her mortal core now because of it.
Astarael. A name. He had given her a name. To hear in his voice made her knees wobbly, and she tensed her muscles to hide that very fact. The stallion was ever the polite one; the far opposite of her rudeness. The rosy mare simply watched in disbelief as the starry male stepped out of the water, closer to her than she expected. She stepped back a pace, flicking her tail, trying to hide her nerves that were firing wildly. Her name. He wanted her name.
A simple, polite request; not a surprise for supposed strangers. But he was not a stranger to her, although he did not know it. How could she admit how she knew him? Could she lie to him? A dangerous cocktail of rage and longing swirled in her gut. She looked downwards, before her gaze drifted upwards again through heavy lids and thick eyelashes. The witch knew now how she was going to play this game. "I'm Nimue."
@astarael I feel like she's gone love-struck schoolgirl on me imsosorry x)
The boy had no idea she had seen him before; watched him, loved him. He simply believed she was any other mare, perhaps having a bad day, thus the acrid scent of anger that washed toward him with her movements and words. He was not one to judge. Everyone had bad days, and everyone was moody at times. The star-struck boy simply remained near her, listening, waiting for her name, which she gave. Nimue. The way it rolled off her tongue was exotic. He was more used to the “normal” names of others – plain, boring English names. But this… this was exotic. It spoke of palm trees, volcanoes, deserts. He smiled and dipped his head, a signal that he heard and understood.
Birds fluttered overhead, near silently as they stood there, two worlds colliding in a single space. Perhaps there would be a supernova soon; an explosion so bright, that it would consume all of them. Perhaps that is what she was waiting for. ”Can you tell me anything about this place? Have you been here long?” He had just arrived, and had only explored this corner of the world. He knew it was vast, unimaginable and giant. It would likely take a lifetime to fully explore, and if he found the right partner, perhaps they could explore this place together forever. He liked that idea – having someone at his side forever, through the changing worlds and times.
”Tell me, Nimue, is this a peaceful place?” He wasn’t much for fighting and war. He had been a part of that world in another time, another place. He was one of the ancients, even though this place seemed to have stripped that magic from him. He still remembered. How could he forget the binding of the ancient evil; the thing that was bent on destroying all life? Necromancers and the dead. It had been a horrible place and a horrible time, yet they had survived – he and the others who were chosen for the task. Now, he wanted nothing more than to have a safe place to settle in, and possibly… one day… raise children.
Astarael
Dawn Court
@Nimue - omg. I am so sorry. Life has been stupid busy. My days off are full of more work than my work days. >.< I'll try to keep up and not leave you hanging again. Omg. I'm sorry. >.<
dangerous, wicked mix of her fury and frustration partnered with the bittersweet tang of longing and heartache as she looked at him with haunting eyes. She wanted nothing more than to continue her rampage of anger and crimson rage; but in her heart she also desired to be so so close to him. To become drunk off of the heat from his starry skin, to be lost in his voice. To truly know him, instead of being the once-immortal goddess who had fallen in love with a mortal man, damned to be bound and caged in a dying body in the same timeline as he. And here they were, supposed strangers; a blissfully unaware man and a star-struck witch who had no inkling of how to handle her own emotions.
Can you tell me anything about this place? Have you been here long?
She was drowning in his voice, and almost forgot to reply entirely. Perking up, Nimue shook her wild and flowy mane, blinking rationality back into her bones. "Longer than I would have liked to be," she answered, honestly but vague. If she had any say, she would have ripped this world until there was nothing left but ash and dust. Except the only thing stopping her was the lack of guarantee she would just return to her previous existence. So she waited, bidding her time, until she could at the very least regain her own immortality; whether the gods wanted her to or not.
"This place is like all others.. on the edge of war and promises made and broken, a place where magic only exists to those who believe in it."And know how to find it, she added to herself, a wicked thought. But the truth all the same.
Tell me, Nimue, is this a peaceful place?
Her heart swelled and threatened to burst at the seams as she heard him, his lips forming her name and breathing them into something that was so so sweet. She shivered.. head over heels and unable to properly tell him how she felt. Hot air blew threw her nostrils in a snort, and suddenly realizing her rudeness, the mare dipped her crown in a half-attempted apology. Her eyes drew upward, unable to look at him in her embarrassment; instead staring at the intense darkness that lay between each glimmering star. "I wish I could say it would stay this way for all time, but alas, I am not sure."
Somber, she flicked her ears, tilting her head as she continued to look up up up into the heavens. "You haven't told me your name," she mused. Although in her heart, she knew it was forever tattooed there, but she had to ask. It was all apart of the careful game she played.
@astarael awe it's okay lovely!! Gosh, I hope everything is alright!
Her agitation was palpable, but he had no idea what the source was. So he remained calm, steadfast, breaths coming in gentle and even movements of his ribs. The starred man had no agenda, no place to be, nothing to rush off to, and so he was content to remain here, trying to understand what this mare could possibly be upset by. He cocked a hind leg, relieving it of the pressure of standing, and felt the relief immediately flood up to his hips. With a contented sigh and flip of his tail, he fell motionless, listening, watching, waiting.
When she spoke, it was vague, and he sensed there was something hidden in her words, but knew enough to not press. Everyone had their secrets, and he would not like to answer questions about those things he had hidden deep within. Not until he was ready, and he assumed most were like him. So, he simply gave a minute nod of his head, telling her that he heard, and understood. She had been here for too long, it seemed, for her liking. Was this place that bad? Or was there something more? A hidden evil, a love-torn heart, a murder most foul? He imagined there had to be something of that nature for her to be unhappy here.
She continued, answering his questions about this place. When she spoke of magic, a wave of sadness washed over him. Involuntarily, he shook his coat, as if the stars would return to life, but he could feel them. They were stationary. Dead. He felt his heart sink a little lower, knowing that they should move, should reflect the night sky, change colors. But alas – he was stained a dark blue with tiny white flecks, as if a child grabbed hold of a painter’s brush and flicked the bristles on his canvas. All he could do was hope that one day, his stars would come alive again. He felt strangely…alone.
He watched her strange reaction at her name being said and wondered what sort of magical being she was. Nobody had a physical reaction except those whose name was secret, and found out. Like Rumplestiltskin. Was she a necromancer of sorts, here to raise the dead and cause mass havoc? Was this why he awoke here? To put her out of commission like he had the others? But how could he do that without his voice? He had no magic here, no way to force the dead to his bidding; to return them to the last gate of death and beyond. Perhaps this was not as it seemed. Maybe she was just used to being alone, without anyone to use her name. He decided he liked this story better, and would accept that as fact, rather than fret about how he would defeat a necromancer without magic.
She spoke again, and he realized how rude he must seem, to not have offered so simple a thing as his name. If he had his magic coat, his cheeks would have flushed the color of a dawning sky, but without it, there was no way of telling he felt his own embarrassment. ”My apologies. I am Astarael. I have no recollection of how I came to be in this place – I simply awoke, and here I was.” He gave a shrugging motion as if the thought didn’t bother him, but truly, it did. How could you travel through time and space without knowing it?
He stepped nearer to the mare as he heard several low growls behind him. Twisting to look, he was nearly shoulder to shoulder with her, staring into the bleak light of the underbrush. There, a gaunt looking wolf rested, several pups emerging to take a drink of water. He watched the female, realizing she was no threat to them – it was a warning that her pups meant her life, and if the two horses tried to harm them, she would defend them to the last. He gave a smile to her, not sure if she would understand, but he was no threat, so long as they left he and his companion alone. He watched the pups as they slowly crept closer to the water’s edge, sniffing the air, hoping to find the scent of dinner on the breeze. The braver, a small female, strode to the edge and stuck her muzzle deep into the water, drinking and playing at the same time.
”Magnificent creatures, aren’t they? And so brave at such a young age!” He paused, casting a sidelong glance to the female beside him. ”I hope I do not intrude, but have you any of your own?”
he was quickly becoming tired of this careful game she played; but she knew the risks. Her heart and soul were laid bare, unbeknownst to her company, but naked and bleeding all the same. His patience was welcome and gloriously lovely compared to her own unpredictable joy and rage.
But they did not deem her a Witch Child for nothing.
Her gaze flickered over his coat of starry skies and galaxies; a shred of longing stabbing her in the chest as she took note that the flecks of white on his navy skin did not move. The rosy woman's lips pulled with a phantom smile tinged with sadness, and nostalgia; for she would never forget when she Saw him before, once upon a dream. His coat would have mirrored the skies high above him, but now.. the slumbering magic in this world stole that enchanting beauty from him, and her heart thundered with that very knowledge.
My apologies. I am Astarael. I have no recollection of how I came to be in this place – I simply awoke, and here I was.
She tried and failed to hide the sharp intake of her breath as his lips formed his name. Now, they were no longer strangers. One step closer to the something more that her withered heart and old soul burned for. Nimue had been an immortal goddess once; a guardian, a solitary watcher alongside her twin, her other half. But now, she was chained and cursed inside a mortal body, with very, very mortal feelings. The hatred of her damnation was flesh and bone and breathing not a few feet to her side; however, her greatest joy -- save for her brother -- was also that same starry man that reflected the galaxies all around them. A universe, perhaps, mirrored on his skin of navy blue; something that had her heart thundering the more and more she noticed every star on his skin like ivory freckles.
Nimue despised the game she was playing then; and only for a moment, before sensibility wrung through her like a harsh drum of reality. She could not tell him the truth.. not now, maybe never. How could she possibly explain to him that she had fallen in love with him eons ago; watched his life from afar and tipped headfirst into mortal romance; before because of such a thing, she was condemned to this life now? How could she?
No.. she could not tell him. Not yet.
Her sharp gasp was audible this time as Astarael moved closer to her -- side by side to her now -- the two of them galaxies and rose-colored thorns. The witch's delicate ears flickered at the rumbling growl behind her, before her good eye caught the sight of several wolf pups in the darkness. Their mother fae toed the tree line and shadows, her warning heard and serious as the pups braved the water's edge. From the corner of her gaze, Nimue saw her -- lover? -- company smile towards the mother dam, and instantly a shred of warm found it's way in her cold, shriveled soul.
Magnificent creatures, aren’t they? And so brave at such a young age!
A soft, albeit impatient grin touched her lips and furrowed her brow as she, too, watched the pups play on the shores of the river. "Yes, yes they are," she replied, mindlessly and barely audible.
I hope I do not intrude, but have you any of your own?
His sidelong glance had her swooning, but his words sparked a new blaze of wildfire that had her huffing. Her delicate crown jerked at the very thought, the intrusion of such a question, such an inquiry. She moved immediately, creating distance, creating waves, an ocean between them. The glade was burning in crimson all around her; her gaze narrowed and pinning him down where he stood. She barely heard the whimpers of frightened pups as she rounded, the glowing amethyst at her throat pulsing faster and faster as it illuminated her face in a haunting, indigo glow.
Truly now, he would come to see why her court called her a witch. A title she wore with pride; but now he would know.. least of all, forget.
"You are in no position to ask me such nonsense questions," she spat, her anger broiling, a tempest of flame and rage the color of scarlet, "we barely know each other. Don't you ever, ever ask me such things again."
And in her fit of rage and simmering anger, the Witch Child disappeared; galloping into the darkness and leaving Astarael with no more than a second thought.
@astarael ohh my lanta I'm so sorry for her bi-polar ness! If you'd like we can close this thread up and start a new one?
He couldn’t know what she was feeling; that every utterance of information he gave to her was something she was compiling for a later time. He couldn’t have known that she cared so deeply; felt so fully; that even his name set her quivering. Instead, he didn’t notice her every twitch. He didn’t notice the way she seemed to float as he spoke his name, his short introduction. He was watching the pups, seeing as they nipped each other, tumbled and yipped, scurried back to their mother as she warned them to not wander too far off. He heard her sharp inhales, and glanced at her, wondering what it was about, though he was not one to judge. Simply took note, glancing at her body language to ensure he had not said something wrong.
And in an instant, the calm that fell over the glade was shattered by her sudden explosion. Her movements, the waves of anger rolling off her. His own head raised, but it was not to fight, it was merely in surprise. His dark blue eyes widened as he took a step back, offering her more space, as that seemed to be what she wanted most right now. The pups fled, along with their mother, and for a moment, he was glad for their safety. He was not concerned for his own, as he could fight if he had no other choice; but it was here that he wished his voice was more like Ranna’s. He could calm her with a single note, but instead, he was Astarael, the Sorrowful. He could likely cause her to feel immense sorrow if he tried hard enough, but he wasn’t sure if the strange magic of this place would allow it (which it won’t, because he doesn’t have enough signos to buy it). Instead, he called out softly, trying to imitate Ranna’s soft, melodious voice, hoping that it would be enough to calm her. Instead, he heard her angry words, and watched her disappear in a flurry of hooves and dirt. His blue eyes filled with sorrow as he watched her go. He had meant no offense; it was a simple conversation piece, and yet there she was … gone. With a sigh, he watched her until she was gone in the distance before moving on toward his own home.
//END//
@Nimue
No worries. I'll throw something up somewhere else and we can try again. ;) And my apologies for the lack of HTML. My computer took a huge dump and I have my husband's now... so once I get my HTML back, I'll have pretty stuff again. ;)
STAFF EDIT*** @sara / @astarael has redeemed signos for completing this thread.
@Roo / @Nimue has redeemed signos for completing this thread.
Thread has now been locked and archived.
09-28-2017, 10:50 PM - This post was last modified: 09-30-2017, 01:43 AM by inkbone
