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+---- Thread: [open] Chaos and Whimsy; any (/showthread.php?tid=32025)
Chaos and Whimsy; any - Tipitina - 11-14-2025
Cold hits her first. Snow drifts in a slow, white hush across the winter meadow, settling on her back, melting against her still-warm skin. Her breath fogs the air, sharp enough to sting, and she stands trembling because she remembers dying. She remembers teeth pulling her apart, mud filling her lungs, the river stitching her back together with lilies and water and pain. She should not be standing. She should not be breathing. And yet here she is.
She blinks hard, trying to anchor herself. The labyrinth’s shadows still cling to her thoughts, but the world feels too vivid to ignore. Her skin is softer than memory, her mane threaded with faint luminescent strands of neon green that catch the pale light like wandering fireflies. The lilies between her shoulders rise and fall as she breathes, quiet and eerily calm, as if they have always been part of her.
It’s strange to feel changed but still carry the echo of who she was. A familiar shape held together by something new. She presses a hoof into the snow, feeling it crunch and crumble beneath her weight. Solid. Cold. Real. For a moment, she lets relief settle into her bones.
Then a flutter stirs behind her.
She freezes as panic fires down her limbs, sinking into the pit of her stomach. The movement isn’t wind. And to her surprise—it’s her. Neon green butterfly wings unfurl just above her tail, enormous and delicate, swaying like a living ribbon. When she inhales, they lift. When fear ripples through her, they tremble.
A thin, unsteady laugh slips out, half in wonder and half in disbelief. “I’m… different.”
The beetle brand on her shoulder answers with a sudden hot pulse, pain burrowing deep through barely healed flesh. She gasps, the sharpness grounding her all over again. Not a dream. Not mercy. A mark that will never let her forget what happened in the maze and what she has become.
She looks down at the snow, watching her breath feather across its surface, her pulse echoing in her throat. “I don’t know what I am now..” she hushes beneath her breath.
RE: Chaos and Whimsy; any - eddie - 11-17-2025
eddie
By now, not being a particular fan of the snow, he normally would have retreated to the water, but he's found himself lingering in the Meadow for some reason. Perhaps, like Tipitina, he is feeling his way around the changes bestowed upon him and this is just the easiest place to do so. After all, this is where Beqanna has made her most recent alterations without him even realizing it.
The grating sound of snow beneath hoof cuts through the murky waters of his preoccupied mind and he looks up, startled, to search for the source.
Her appearance would be enough to draw and capture his attention, but something else keeps him standing there, watching her a bit too intently as she explores her new trappings. A soft haze of color surrounds her, clinging to every wisp of hair, every contour of her body, even to the fleeting puffs of air created when she exhales. Like much of her other accents, bright green seems to be the most prominent hue, but there seems to be a touch of a sunny yellow that glows subtly at the innermost edges. Even more intriguing, occasional streaks of grey weave through the haze, though they are as quick to disappear as they are to show.
He's never seen anything like this before and he wonders what form of magic she possesses to create such a fascinating display. Without meaning to, he shuffles a bit closer just as her hesitant laugh rings out. Curiously, just as she draws in that sharp breath, a ribbon of muddied orange streaks through the otherwise crisp, vibrant colors and pulses hotly for several long moments before fading and eventually disappearing. He has no ears to flick, but they surely would when she speaks, as he can't quite decipher the tone of her statement.
“Well, don't think you're alone in feeling like that..”
His words shatter the relative quiet like the crack of a whip. Immediately, discomfort seizes him and tightens every muscle in his body as he realizes he's said that aloud, rather than in his head. He offers a sheepish, lopsided grin as her attention begins to shift in his direction.
Smooth.
@Tipitina he doesn't know he can read auras now, just so you know =)
RE: Chaos and Whimsy; any - Tipitina - 11-17-2025
The crack of his voice startles her more than the cold.
Her head lifts sharply, the water lilies blooming from her chest shifting with the motion, their green-lit petals stirring like they breathe with her. Tiny plumes of fox fire drift in slow circles around her body, brushing her sides with warm flickers. Her elongated ears twitch toward the sound. The neon butterfly wings at the base of her tail open in a trembling sweep, glowing faintly against the snow. She blinks through the falling flakes, her breath ghosting the air. She had not expected anyone else to wander the winter meadow. She barely expected herself.
When she finds him, only his outline is clear at first. Dark, tall, and gangly, moving with almost a loose-jointed awkwardness that reminds her of something still growing into shape. Dapples scatter across his body like river stones, and grey-black feathers soften his forelegs. There's something missing to him, and she can't quite place it until the dark stallion nears closer; it is then that she realizes he doesn't have ears.
She freezes, eyes widening despite herself. She should be used to this by now. Beqanna is full of strange and beautiful bodies. She has seen creatures glowing, shifting, storm-touched, plant-grown, water-breathing. She should be unfazed. And yet the smooth curve where ears should be makes her blink twice, startled in a way she cannot hide. “Oh.” The word leaves her softly, almost swallowed by the hush of snow. “I… thought I was alone.” she expels as a warm ripple stirs inside her chest, making the lilies pulse faintly with green light. Something in her encourages her forward, a gentle push she does not understand but trusts anyway.
She steps closer, her hooves crunching into the snow. Her antenna quiver, catching the strangeness of the moment. Her fox fire sways behind her in lazy arcs of green flame. As she nears, the rest of his features settle into focus—dark scales down his cheeks and spine, the thin flutter of gills at his neck, dapples shimmering where the cold light touches them.
And then she notices the expression on his face. A sheepish, lopsided grin tugs at his mouth, as if he didn’t mean to speak at all. The sight softens something in her, a surprising warmth blooming beneath her ribs. He looks unusual, yes. But she cannot help thinking she does too.
“You feel changed?” she asks quietly, breath curling between them. Her wings flicker with her heartbeat, trembling softly. Her neon mane gleams faintly. “How so?” she adds, curiosity lacing her words as a small, shy smile begins to spread across her alabaster lips. "I'm Tipsy", she says gently.
@eddie
got a lil too excited about this post hehe
RE: Chaos and Whimsy; any - eddie - 11-21-2025
eddie
He remains silent, still absorbing the details of her unique appearance, as she turns to him. The halo of color had thoroughly overshadowed the flowers, the wings, even the delicate flames that float gracefully through the chilled air. When the plumes come into greater focus, he briefly wonders if they've been the source of color the entire time—but as her gaze finds him, the thin yellow band of light (it must be light?), which had already become more prominent, flares even more brightly and nearly swallows the rest of the colors.
The fox fire remains unchanged.
Curiouser and curiouser.
The longer she studies him, the more exponentially his discomfort grows, as he becomes even more acutely aware of what he considers to be his shortcomings. He refuses to let that crooked smile slip from his face, but the muscles controlling it tighten ever so slightly. When she comments on her self-perceived solitude, his shoulders tense and then roll backwards, almost like a human shrugging apologetically.
Then she begins to move closer and his nervous system starts to go haywire. The gills that stand in place of nostrils ripple in a most obvious way as he inhales sharply and deeply. He was not really expecting her to move toward him. Just as the silence reaches the height of uneasiness, her aura flickers and shifts to a soft pink, then to a deep, pleasing blue before returning to its previous green and yellow state. He tilts his head, but makes no comment on the changes as she breathes her questions into the space between them.
“Oh, I meant that there's others that aren't sure of what they are these days.” He pauses, deciding whether or not he wants to answer her questions. But it doesn't take long for him to continue, “but yes, I suppose I feel different as well. Haven't quite figured out how, exactly, but something is off.”
He grows quiet again, slowly attempting to digest his thoughts as they turn to the yet undiscovered changes that tickle at his senses, teasing him with their presence but refusing to reveal their secrets. In this span, she offers her name and he straightens automatically, as he realizes he'd begun to drift again. His head bobs several times as he responds, “nice to meet you, Tipsy. I'm Eddie.”
His bright blue eyes trace over her figure, attention drawn in again by the glow that still surrounds her. He does not see himself as threatening in any way, so he does not recognize that this might be unsettling to some, but his eyes continue roaming as he addresses her again. “Are the colors new to you, then?”
@Tipitina