04-29-2015, 09:53 PM
so you wanna play with magic?
His feelings wash over her like waves, lapping at the edges of her consciousness, surging and eddying in equal measure as she enjoys the sensation. It is wonderful to feel, the twists and turns of another's mind; telepathy is one of the best aspects of her magic (but is there anything that isn't best? No, she supposes, there isn't).
She wonders, for a moment, what he would be with magic. What would he do? Would he be her? Or infinitely more capricious? They are both wily, both impossibly practiced at deception, both with a long and tangled history (that magic she smells on him, now it will smell a little bit of her too). Kindred spirits, if you will. She smiles at the thought.
She looks at him with eyes that shift to leaf-green as she turns her head to regard him. How can he help her, he asks. It makes her wonder how much he really knows of magicians. They can so rarely be truly helped; they can be assisted, they can be served, but they can never be helped. "Yes Lokii, I know you."She smiles. "And I'm more interested in how I can help you." Her voice is liquid silk, smooth, sweet, beautiful to listen to.
Idly, she wonders how much he knows of her. Has he heard her name at all, whispered between stories of the Deserts competition? She knows Eight hasn't mentioned her, in the same way she hasn’t mentioned him – the things they are to each other are too dear, too precious, and too entirely unexpected for it to ever be shared with anyone else. But still, word gets around, especially when you piss off the Amazons and find yourself queen.
She wonders if he knows yet just how much she is unleashed, just how much she wears her magic like a comfortable coat. He has dealt with many magicians, but even Evrae is not Camrynn. She is another breed, a tempest of magic, a wellspring of surprises, a thing that is simultaneously unimaginable and terrifyingly real.
And terrifyingly capricious.
She hasn’t decided yet whether she will actually offer him anything and let him help her or not. It can be very useful to have sworn servants, or at least to have those who are in your debt. She knows he wants things – she's seen him ask Eight for immortality, she knows how he thirsts for chaos, she feels how he gloried in it when they were encased in the bubble, whipping through time so effortlessly. She chuckles.
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves. How are things in the Valley?" maybe he will sense that she has ties there. Maybe not. "It just seems so…crass to answer all my own questions. No fun at all." a tiny smirk plays on her features as she looks at him.
She wonders, for a moment, what he would be with magic. What would he do? Would he be her? Or infinitely more capricious? They are both wily, both impossibly practiced at deception, both with a long and tangled history (that magic she smells on him, now it will smell a little bit of her too). Kindred spirits, if you will. She smiles at the thought.
She looks at him with eyes that shift to leaf-green as she turns her head to regard him. How can he help her, he asks. It makes her wonder how much he really knows of magicians. They can so rarely be truly helped; they can be assisted, they can be served, but they can never be helped. "Yes Lokii, I know you."She smiles. "And I'm more interested in how I can help you." Her voice is liquid silk, smooth, sweet, beautiful to listen to.
Idly, she wonders how much he knows of her. Has he heard her name at all, whispered between stories of the Deserts competition? She knows Eight hasn't mentioned her, in the same way she hasn’t mentioned him – the things they are to each other are too dear, too precious, and too entirely unexpected for it to ever be shared with anyone else. But still, word gets around, especially when you piss off the Amazons and find yourself queen.
She wonders if he knows yet just how much she is unleashed, just how much she wears her magic like a comfortable coat. He has dealt with many magicians, but even Evrae is not Camrynn. She is another breed, a tempest of magic, a wellspring of surprises, a thing that is simultaneously unimaginable and terrifyingly real.
And terrifyingly capricious.
She hasn’t decided yet whether she will actually offer him anything and let him help her or not. It can be very useful to have sworn servants, or at least to have those who are in your debt. She knows he wants things – she's seen him ask Eight for immortality, she knows how he thirsts for chaos, she feels how he gloried in it when they were encased in the bubble, whipping through time so effortlessly. She chuckles.
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves. How are things in the Valley?" maybe he will sense that she has ties there. Maybe not. "It just seems so…crass to answer all my own questions. No fun at all." a tiny smirk plays on her features as she looks at him.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery