Floating Key dear fellow traveler - Printable Version +- the Rift (http://riftrpg.net) +-- Forum: Archives (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=20) +--- Forum: Year 1173 (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=29) +---- Forum: Incompleted (http://riftrpg.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +---- Thread: Floating Key dear fellow traveler (/showthread.php?tid=397) |
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dear fellow traveler - Lothíriel - 07-25-2017
It had been difficult reaching the small island paradise, but the nymph stands triumphantly on its shores, absolutely drenched, chewing thoughtfully on some exaggeratedly succulent piece of fruit she had found. Briny rivulets unfurl over her silvery mantle like crystalline ribbons, clinging to the subtle curves of her body until they fall unbidden onto the tepid sand. For once, the sun presents her fair countenance to the corrupt land over which she presided, blessing the creatures that dwell beneath her with blissful warmth and effusive optimism. Although she is made of rain and born of storms, Lothíriel is not exempt from feeling particularly nice on a sunny day, especially when her life feels so awry. Even Thingol is content, his wings spread luxuriously over the back of his bonded as he sunbathes. The sunlight glints off his feathers like delicate mother-of-pearl, reflecting pastel pinks and blues and yellows. The roan girl pauses her snacking, violet gaze flicking inland towards the island's lush tropical forest. It feels less unsettling here; elsewhere, she can feel the weight of a hundred hungry eyes on her, but this paradise was splendid, all sunny shores and happy singing birds.
When she is finished with her fruit, her cloven hooves take her to the ocean's lip, where its frothy fingers caress the pale sand. For the first time in what seems like forever, a little smile creeps onto the flower girl's face when she beholds the ocean, a gentle sea-breeze tousling her fair mane. Water washes over her cleft toes, glittering in the sunlight as it continually withdraws and returns. The raven gathers his wings and leaps off her back, gliding gracefully into the clear azure skies. She watches her bonded glide over the water, admiring his alabaster feathers. They had come so far from where they had begun and witnessed so much together—he is the moon to her evening stars; a quiet, constant radiance in her life where all else fell into darkness. Awakening from her reverie, Lothíriel's eyes turn towards the sand and surf beneath her hooves. A bright blue crab scuttles her way, and ignoring her better judgment, she dips her nose to get a better look at it, cautious of its little pincers. It is unlike any crustacean she has seen before, fluorescent green markings scattered over its baby blue shell. Thick fur lines its six fine legs, small gemlike growths stuck on the end of each hair. It waves its claws threateningly towards her when the girl dares to move even closer, darting towards her with surprising speed. She reels backwards onto her haunches, splashing into the cool seawater and far away from the crab. After a few tense moments pass, her eyes crinkle with amusement at the sheer thought of the absurd scene she had made, laughter spilling out of her smiling mouth. The crab had been no bigger than a quarter, and yet it had frightened her as if it had been the size of a bear! In a fit of wild youthful glee, the nymph leaps into deeper water, paddling blithely beneath the radiant sun, utterly oblivious to anyone who might be observing her. how the rose in your heart you hold
for @Raistlyn but anyone else is welcome to join! RE: dear fellow traveler - Raistlyn - 07-27-2017
RE: dear fellow traveler - Lothíriel - 08-06-2017
Taking a brief reprieve from her maritime frolicking, Lothíriel looks out over the endless blue expanse of the ocean, a gentle seabreeze threading its fingers through her flower-studded hair. Lilac and anemone and lilies cling to the fair strands, their many-colored petals fluttering in the wind. Although she was born in the shadow of a mountain, and her mother before her in a great forest, Lothíriel feels the call of brine beckoning to her blood. Generations of her forefathers had presided over some shore or another; first it was Cinnoru, father of unicorns, then Ignatius, then Nepdon. Her father's first breath had been taken on a beach—it was named the Moonlit Tides before it was destroyed by the hands of unmerciful gods, and it had housed countless unicorn. She sighs, looking upwards to her white-winged friend, studying the way light filtered through the fibers of his feathers. If the Great Sundering hadn't utterly destroyed her parents' birthplace, the Tides would have been her home too, but then again, if Helovia hadn't been destroyed, it would have been her children's home. Was there a curse cast on her line? Were they all doomed to roam the earth, homeless and crownless?
Thingol crows, dipping towards his girl; he wants to tell her something, but the link joining them together is precariously weak and he cannot communicate the words to her. The sound of something tearing into the waves snaps her attention to the shore; something with her same shades of lilac and silver and white barrels towards her. Florid eyes widen, exposing a neat circle of white around the iris. Watch out! "Hey—" Then the world turns itself upside-down. The heavy body collides with her own, sending her delicate form crashing gracelessly into the surf. She cries out, although her voice strangled by the gargle of seawater. Slender legs buckle and thrash against the force, although they can do nothing as she is dragged to the shore, prone and helpless as a child. Brine seems to encompass her entire world—it enters her mouth, her eyes, her nose, her ears. When the waves and the stranger deposit her unceremoniously onto the dry sand, Lothíriel reels onto her limbs as quickly as the forces of physics allow her to, all the while sputtering and coughing and cursing, ready for an attack. However, as soon as she clambers onto her feet, the girl tumbles backwards onto her side, dizzy with effort. Fear traces harsh lines on the planes of her face, as she sizes up her assailant—her dark ears flipping back and forth with uncertainty. He is not a bloodthirsty monster at all, she decides, but a striped stallion who looks just as winded as herself. When she realizes that he means no harm (probably), the nymphet's eyes narrow. "What is the meaning of this?" she snaps, sounding just as fearsome and menacing as a particularly mean puppy. She clambers once more onto unsteady hooves, swaying a little as she attempts to summon her most imperial impression, though she falls short of regal due to the wet sand clinging to the silver of her body. Thingol alights onto her back, watching the banded stranger curiously. The lilac girl huffs, lion's tail snapping irritably against her dripping hind legs. "Is this how you greet guests in this godforsaken place?" She dares to move closer towards the stranger, pausing a length before him; even if he is planning on eating her, she will have her questions answered with some semblance of dignity. how the rose in your heart you hold
@Raistlyn sorry for the wait!! |