11-06-2017, 01:42 PM
Ellyse
I have the tendency of getting very physical,
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
She had not been expecting it.
He seemed a quiet and unwavering presence, a part of Tephra as much as the rumbling, effervescing volcano, but alas, he had grown tired of the proverbial crown of thorns he wore just as Magnus had before him. He came to her swathed in darkness, as the celestial sky overhead bathed the grassland in a splendor of starlight, and he had asked her to bear the very burden he carried – a weight she had never desired, but he asked it of her with such weariness within the rumbling baritone of his voice that she could not refuse.
She preferred action to word, she preferred war to armistice – but she would bite her tongue, if only to preserve the strength and heart of the volcanic island she called her own (but for how long, she could not promise him).
When he does call forth the many that reside within the island, her heart is hammering roughly, raggedly within her chest from the sheer adrenaline. She is quiet, observing those that stand before him, and soon, her as well, as her gilded legs carry her to the hillcrest upon which his dark and towering presence is positioned. The soft ocean breeze caresses her skin, weaving through her finely preened feathers, but her mind is elsewhere, focused upon each face that comes forward to listen – to take her, or to spurn her, she cannot be certain.
The salty brine of the sea soothes her, draping her ivory forelock over her healing, but gaping eye socket, while her single hazel eye searches what lay before her – seeing it in a different light; with a distinct perspective.
She can already feel the weight of the burden settling onto her own shoulders; she can feel the intensity of each curious stare. She had always been around, wandering the shoreline, watchful for intrusion with her shapely muscles coiled for battle, but she had never delved into diplomacy before - the idea of it is enough to stir bile into her throat, but she swallows her doubt, instead wearing a façade of stoicism - searching for Dahmer among those before her; seeking the warmth of his gaze to soothe her wildly beating heart.
”I will serve you to the end of my own ability,” she says quietly, though her voice carries with the wind of the sea, and though her heart is thundering within her chest, she is rife with confidence – with conviction that his faith had been invested in her; she would not let him down. ”and in time, I will seek a successor. Prove yourself to be loyal, to be worthy, and the governance will be your own, should you accept me in the interim.”
He seemed a quiet and unwavering presence, a part of Tephra as much as the rumbling, effervescing volcano, but alas, he had grown tired of the proverbial crown of thorns he wore just as Magnus had before him. He came to her swathed in darkness, as the celestial sky overhead bathed the grassland in a splendor of starlight, and he had asked her to bear the very burden he carried – a weight she had never desired, but he asked it of her with such weariness within the rumbling baritone of his voice that she could not refuse.
She preferred action to word, she preferred war to armistice – but she would bite her tongue, if only to preserve the strength and heart of the volcanic island she called her own (but for how long, she could not promise him).
When he does call forth the many that reside within the island, her heart is hammering roughly, raggedly within her chest from the sheer adrenaline. She is quiet, observing those that stand before him, and soon, her as well, as her gilded legs carry her to the hillcrest upon which his dark and towering presence is positioned. The soft ocean breeze caresses her skin, weaving through her finely preened feathers, but her mind is elsewhere, focused upon each face that comes forward to listen – to take her, or to spurn her, she cannot be certain.
The salty brine of the sea soothes her, draping her ivory forelock over her healing, but gaping eye socket, while her single hazel eye searches what lay before her – seeing it in a different light; with a distinct perspective.
She can already feel the weight of the burden settling onto her own shoulders; she can feel the intensity of each curious stare. She had always been around, wandering the shoreline, watchful for intrusion with her shapely muscles coiled for battle, but she had never delved into diplomacy before - the idea of it is enough to stir bile into her throat, but she swallows her doubt, instead wearing a façade of stoicism - searching for Dahmer among those before her; seeking the warmth of his gaze to soothe her wildly beating heart.
”I will serve you to the end of my own ability,” she says quietly, though her voice carries with the wind of the sea, and though her heart is thundering within her chest, she is rife with confidence – with conviction that his faith had been invested in her; she would not let him down. ”and in time, I will seek a successor. Prove yourself to be loyal, to be worthy, and the governance will be your own, should you accept me in the interim.”
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone;
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
TLDR: Offspring is retiring, Ellyse is taking over until someone proves themselves enough to take over.
Come one, come all! I've got some drama in store in the meantime .. 
Also: Reply IC but let me know in an OOC note if you’d like to be considered for Overseer!