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+---- Thread: CLEVER GIRL; ANY (/showthread.php?tid=31382)
CLEVER GIRL; ANY - Abyzou - 08-27-2023
Abyzou had once tread these paths time and time again in her childhood adventures. So familiar, yet entirely different. Decades had passed since she had fled this world. It was a blur to her, for the most part. She recalls the storms that stirred on the horizons. You could sense the calamity to unfold even from the depths of the gnarled foliage of the Jungle, where she found herself lurking at the time. The prickling feeling of a wrathful storm that caused the masses to flee, or fall with the world they had anchored to, and called home.
Abyzou had never settled. She never could, for long. Even before the fall, she had never found herself yearning to nest and call somewhere home. The Chamber perhaps came close, but that was her mother’s home. Mother always returned there, and was always at her happiest there. Younger brother Dagro seemed comfortable there as well. Yet, it was never the case entirely for her. Things were quiet in her youth, and she craved a little chaos. Abyzou grew bored easily, and often was found to be out hunting fauna that were easy prey animals. To eat? Not necessarily. It was for sport, to curb the boredom and bring some sort of thrill to her.
Abyzou has grown beyond the frogs and squirrels that lurk the underbrush. Those days of childhood antics are long gone. She wears the color red well, and the iron-tinged scent often lingers in her wake. Her instincts had brought her home. Yet, home was an entirely different world. She had returned to Beqanna about a fortnight ago. Admittedly, she couldn’t tell anyone how she got here if she tried. Magic, this world was built on it and no more needed to be said.
She’s spent her time skulking and lurking. Everything was different, she had taken note that some lands still remained - including the territory in which her ancestry was deeply rooted. She had spent quite some time observing, drawn in like a moth to a flame. Yet, she turns away, back to the commonlands. Drawn to the forest, she lurks in the red-orange foliage of which she is nigh camouflaged in. Leaves crunch softly beneath her talons with each footfall as she navigates the thicket, off the well-trodden paths.
Abyzou had never settled. She never could, for long. Even before the fall, she had never found herself yearning to nest and call somewhere home. The Chamber perhaps came close, but that was her mother’s home. Mother always returned there, and was always at her happiest there. Younger brother Dagro seemed comfortable there as well. Yet, it was never the case entirely for her. Things were quiet in her youth, and she craved a little chaos. Abyzou grew bored easily, and often was found to be out hunting fauna that were easy prey animals. To eat? Not necessarily. It was for sport, to curb the boredom and bring some sort of thrill to her.
Abyzou has grown beyond the frogs and squirrels that lurk the underbrush. Those days of childhood antics are long gone. She wears the color red well, and the iron-tinged scent often lingers in her wake. Her instincts had brought her home. Yet, home was an entirely different world. She had returned to Beqanna about a fortnight ago. Admittedly, she couldn’t tell anyone how she got here if she tried. Magic, this world was built on it and no more needed to be said.
She’s spent her time skulking and lurking. Everything was different, she had taken note that some lands still remained - including the territory in which her ancestry was deeply rooted. She had spent quite some time observing, drawn in like a moth to a flame. Yet, she turns away, back to the commonlands. Drawn to the forest, she lurks in the red-orange foliage of which she is nigh camouflaged in. Leaves crunch softly beneath her talons with each footfall as she navigates the thicket, off the well-trodden paths.
CLEVER GIRL | LANDEN X SCIRE |
RE: CLEVER GIRL; ANY - Infernal - 08-27-2023
The outsider lurks in the darkest parts of the forest, where the trees eclipse the sun and even the birdsong has gone silent.
This place is new, but not so very different from other places.
He is not sure which iteration of the world this is—he has long lost count, or perhaps he never cared to track it to begin with. He stays only as long as his interest is held, or until some other force manages to cast him out. Usually it is the first. They are all the same, he has found; a thousand scattered pieces pulling themselves together into whatever they have deemed is a society, working towards some imaginary purpose they have crafted for themselves.
They live and they die, and maybe if they are lucky they die as some kind of legend, but most will simply be dust.
There are others in the forest; he can feel them pressing at the very edges of his mind, but he does not seek them out. Currently, he is indifferent to the existence of the land’s population; the satiated predator ignoring the prey, until hunger strikes again.
He notices that as he ventures further from the heart of the darkness that here the trees become thinner, their leaves bright with autumnal colors, and the light grows brighter, though it is seemingly swallowed by the eerie blackness of his own coat. He is tall, and strangely thin, with curtains of moss draped from the antlers that tower from his skull. He preferred the still bodies of water — the bogs and the muddied ponds that rarely attracted visitors.
But he is not immune to curiosity, and he lets himself be lured out into their midst.
It is not long before the crunch of leaves causes him to pause, and with an ever so slight angle of his head, he locks her in his gaze. He watches her with unnervingly black eyes, glossy and unreadable as he appraises her. If she is strange in this world for her talons he does not seem to notice, making no effort to move closer to her as he observes her from where he stands in the half-shadow of a grove of trees. “You walk loudly,” he tells her, his voice smooth and flat, and it is difficult to discern whether he is chastising her or simply offering his observation.
-- i n f e r n a l
@Abyzou
RE: CLEVER GIRL; ANY - Abyzou - 08-29-2023
She serpentines between birch trees and drifting leaves. Leaves which inevitably brush against her red and white hide, and entangle in her mane and tail. Subconsciously, she shudders and shrugs them away. Eventually, she senses a presence. Her ears flick back to catch the voice that resonates. She halts, craning her neck to see the creature who chose to wander a similar path. A jet black figure speaks to her. He could pass for a bringer of omens to some, she pondered. The magic of this world indeed flourished, supporting the wild and weird, herself included.
She looks the stranger up and down, gaze flitting briefly over him. She flicks her tail to the right, it snaps quickly and swishes back to its resting state. What could have felt like eons in silence was only a few moments. She breaks the silence.
“Observant.” a husky tone drawls off her tongue. She further turns her entire body to face him, but moves no further. “Apologies if I disturbed your stroll.” her words are darkly playful, and laced with sarcasm. the smirk never leaving her face.
She looks the stranger up and down, gaze flitting briefly over him. She flicks her tail to the right, it snaps quickly and swishes back to its resting state. What could have felt like eons in silence was only a few moments. She breaks the silence.
“Observant.” a husky tone drawls off her tongue. She further turns her entire body to face him, but moves no further. “Apologies if I disturbed your stroll.” her words are darkly playful, and laced with sarcasm. the smirk never leaving her face.
CLEVER GIRL | LANDEN X SCIRE |
@Infernal
RE: CLEVER GIRL; ANY - Infernal - 09-12-2023
He is not surprised when she is not afraid of him.
Most of them are not—at least, not at first.
Even with those flat-black eyes and too thin frame, he still wears the form of something familiar to them. His overall shape gives the idea that he is one of them, and offers no indication of the things that he hides. Although he never pretends to be something that he is not (he does not offer false kindness or honeyed words), his true self is something that he keeps closely guarded—unless he thinks revealing would be to his benefit.
He does not press against the barriers of her mind with his, though it is always tempting to peel back to reveal what they might be thinking. He liked to save that for when it was needed, or perhaps when feeling especially bored.
For now, he is sufficiently interested enough to not feel the need to toy with her. He liked the ones that were not afraid; fear grew tiresome, and boredom was a dangerous thing for him. “I’m not the one you should worry about disturbing,” he tells her, his lips moving into a shadow of a smile. “Are you not afraid of the things they say live at the heart of this forest?”
Most of them are not—at least, not at first.
Even with those flat-black eyes and too thin frame, he still wears the form of something familiar to them. His overall shape gives the idea that he is one of them, and offers no indication of the things that he hides. Although he never pretends to be something that he is not (he does not offer false kindness or honeyed words), his true self is something that he keeps closely guarded—unless he thinks revealing would be to his benefit.
He does not press against the barriers of her mind with his, though it is always tempting to peel back to reveal what they might be thinking. He liked to save that for when it was needed, or perhaps when feeling especially bored.
For now, he is sufficiently interested enough to not feel the need to toy with her. He liked the ones that were not afraid; fear grew tiresome, and boredom was a dangerous thing for him. “I’m not the one you should worry about disturbing,” he tells her, his lips moving into a shadow of a smile. “Are you not afraid of the things they say live at the heart of this forest?”
-- i n f e r n a l
@Abyzou