[open] antlers and horns and scales

[Ajatar]

ajatar

devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest;
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress.

Curious.
She's known this sensation, this dissection before. Her mother started it the minute she saw the snake scales on Ajatar's legs, knowing something wasn't quite right with the girl. Of course, you mix two magicians you're bound to get something strange. Something fascinating. Harmonia picked and prodded until the pestilence came out. Deimos? He was terrified, his great dark eyes sweeping over the girl like she was the plague and the savior. Rodrick, Pollock - curiosity, but also - like a bargaining chip. The familiar sensation is...well, she's unsure. Is she unnerved by the attention? Her face is conflicted ,she doesn't have a poker face.

But his rendition of the lands - Tephra! Nerine! She's hooked on these vivid descriptions, so much that she misses his insinuation that his time in Pangea was not mandatory. That it was horrible, maybe, even awful. She misses all of this because she's wrapped in these thoughts of other kingdoms, other lands. Beautiful, strange, where wind rips off branches!

"I think I need to travel more," she admits thoughtfully. "I'd very much love to see your Tephra, and perhaps Nerine. Are there many other lands to visit?" Oh, what a thought - that Ajatar would break from her long line of heritage and find a kingdom and be a diplomat to travel. War is in her veins, death is in her touch - she need only be triggered to unleash the horrific plague on the small land. The idea of losing control, of killing all those around her never quite occurs to her. It should.