[open] don't come find me; any

[Divest]

don't come find me, I won't be here waiting

Her heart swells with warmth as she watches his gaze slip across her. The pastel mare was a picture of perfection, made without flaws with her graceful silhouette and harmonious proportions. She did not scoff at his inspection again (and neither did he seem to abash by it either this time). Foolish. She would eventually call herself when she eventually learns his slipping gaze across her figure was not what she expected. It was hunger—for malice and chaos. He would become the darkness that lurked at the edge of the light in her world, destroying what happiness she had ever had. “Yes,” she replies, “Some sort of healing that instantly heals me.” Divest does not question his curious inquiry, unaware of his hidden reputation for taking others' abilities. It was simply a conversation between old friends, and she was blinded by his charming nature (but the young Gale she remembered had always been charming). She laughs at his next statement. “I don’t think I have anything that would work for you,” she says with a teasing tone back. Divest knows better than to reveal all instantly. In truth, she enjoyed the flow of their innocent conversation. Although she will learn that Gale was searching for more than just old friends talking, he was seeking out information to use against her. Her silver gaze flashes with interest at his small tale. Gale did not seem bothered by the serious instanced that occurred. She wonders if this had been one of his adventures. “The volcano sounds rather dangerous then.” Her smile curls also into a mischievous grin, indicating she was not against the idea of seeing the volcano even after his frightening tale. Divest glances towards the volcano for a moment, noting the journey up to the peek would be a long one. “I don’t suppose you have something that would make the walk shorter?” She offers back, knowing whether the years have changed Gale as much as it had for her. The pastel mare doesn’t share her secret just yet (not that she would hide it forever from Gale, she did not have a doubt in her mind about him yet while he continuously proved to be the Gale she had known).

Divest

@ Gale

[Gale]

@Divest

i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do ---------- i hope you dream of me She has healing, Gale muses, but is unable to use it on others. The same kind of self-regeneration that his host possessed, the kind that keeps the soul alive even when the body has been obliterated. It is something beyond the magician’s abilities, and something that entirely snuffs out his idle imagining of how nice she would look illuminated by the light of a lava flow, her bones melting into the liquid stone. “You’ll have to tell me what it is someday,” he responds with a rakish smile, knowing that he needs the information before he attempts to kill her. It is never pleasant coming across unexpected abilities in others, or fighting magics that he is not familiar with. While those grow fewer with each passing year, he still prefers to be prepared. Divest is undeterred by his tale, instead turning his own question against him. “There might be a few,” he replies with a shrug of his shoulders, one accompanied by an self-effacing grin. Not the best answer, but he should have expected it. The blue-eyed creature has lost some of his skill with conversation with time, it seems, but remains at least a consummate actor. Playing the light-hearted Gale is easy, but it is also remarkably boring. Less boring is the way he steps away from Divest to pull the fabric of the world taut around him. He reaches for the image of it he can See within his mind, and when he opens them, the image is visible in the air in front of them. A ragged-edged shape has been torn in the air itself. The sides are held back with shadows, and lightning dances around the rim in an endless circle. This magic will drain him quickly, but portals are always impressive. “Is this what you had in mind?” The magic that sustains the portal ripples through him like lightning. Gale swallows, and glances quickly back at the dark-edged things as though he works constantly to maintain it. “After you.” He asks, and as he speaks more it is clear that there is just the softest bit of strain in his voice, as though he realizes that showing off might not have been his wisest choice. GALE