05-23-2019, 10:23 AM
they promised that dreams can come true
She is strangely famous for a girl with dead parents that largely keeps to herself. The concept still baffles her, honestly, that she could be valuable in a sense, though she’s understands that she is a little more than a piece in a game she does not play. The unfairness of it should bother her, perhaps, but it doesn’t. The truth is she finds some benefit in it. Without her fame, she’d still be wallowing in self-pity on the beaches of the Cove in a place she did not belong. Whether or not she belonged in Loess was unclear to her still, but she knew enough now to know that she liked it better here than her own birth home. Little had changed from one to the next – she didn’t suddenly become someone new or better – but still, she found herself more comfortable.
Perhaps the comfort simply came without the specter of her real parents hanging over her (their illusions, however, followed her everywhere). It was enough to get out from beneath their shadow, as much as she could ever get out from beneath the shadow of two mares that she looked so very much like. She wore her parents on her sleeve, and would never be anything but their daughter first and foremost in first impressions.
You’re the girl from Silver Cove, comes a voice, and she isn’t startled by the fact he knows but rather by the fact he’s paying her any mind at all. Most everyone ignores her, and she leaves it like that, making no effort to be noticed. Yet this boy simply greets her, and she does her best to offer him a small smile. It is unpracticed, but not false, at the very least. “Ori is fine,” she offers, preferring the simple one syllable to the mouthful that is her true name.
He’s turned to face her at this point, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly at the lopsided, semi-invisible wings. It’s a good attempt, and she certainly doesn’t judge uncontrolled powers (hers had a mind of their own, regularly), but still the sight is amusing. She’s about to offer to ‘help’, wondering if she could manage the illusion on a small part of someone’s body more easily than she could her entire self, when he introduces herself.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, because for all the time she spends apart it is nice to truly meet someone that isn’t trying to steal her or protect her. Her attention diverts from her various, rather unconscious illusions to the boy and suddenly he startles. She too does the same, looking in his direction but seeing nothing. When his comment comes, she can only laugh again having startled at her own damn power. They were a pair, it seemed. “Oh, that’s me. Probably, anyway.”
Sometimes she is never entirely sure if things are of her own making or something else entirely, but usually she assumes it’s her. The deer comes back, standing between the pair of them, curious and interested as it steps hesitantly toward Pteron, reaching a nose out in curiosity. Ori watches impassively, as if she’s not the one creating half of the scene that now unfolds, but she is concentrating on only what’s happening between the deer and the boy in order to make it happen at all. Otherwise….well otherwise, she has absolutely no idea what that deer might do.
Perhaps the comfort simply came without the specter of her real parents hanging over her (their illusions, however, followed her everywhere). It was enough to get out from beneath their shadow, as much as she could ever get out from beneath the shadow of two mares that she looked so very much like. She wore her parents on her sleeve, and would never be anything but their daughter first and foremost in first impressions.
You’re the girl from Silver Cove, comes a voice, and she isn’t startled by the fact he knows but rather by the fact he’s paying her any mind at all. Most everyone ignores her, and she leaves it like that, making no effort to be noticed. Yet this boy simply greets her, and she does her best to offer him a small smile. It is unpracticed, but not false, at the very least. “Ori is fine,” she offers, preferring the simple one syllable to the mouthful that is her true name.
He’s turned to face her at this point, and she can’t help but chuckle slightly at the lopsided, semi-invisible wings. It’s a good attempt, and she certainly doesn’t judge uncontrolled powers (hers had a mind of their own, regularly), but still the sight is amusing. She’s about to offer to ‘help’, wondering if she could manage the illusion on a small part of someone’s body more easily than she could her entire self, when he introduces herself.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, because for all the time she spends apart it is nice to truly meet someone that isn’t trying to steal her or protect her. Her attention diverts from her various, rather unconscious illusions to the boy and suddenly he startles. She too does the same, looking in his direction but seeing nothing. When his comment comes, she can only laugh again having startled at her own damn power. They were a pair, it seemed. “Oh, that’s me. Probably, anyway.”
Sometimes she is never entirely sure if things are of her own making or something else entirely, but usually she assumes it’s her. The deer comes back, standing between the pair of them, curious and interested as it steps hesitantly toward Pteron, reaching a nose out in curiosity. Ori watches impassively, as if she’s not the one creating half of the scene that now unfolds, but she is concentrating on only what’s happening between the deer and the boy in order to make it happen at all. Otherwise….well otherwise, she has absolutely no idea what that deer might do.
Oriash
but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too
@[Pteron]