12-09-2017, 11:32 AM
god make me pay
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
The river leads throughout all of Beqanna; he had discovered this fact when he was just a yearling, and actively uses its water roads to travel to other bodies of water, to deeper hunting grounds or to shallower ones, depending on his needs. Despite his current stay in Nerine, where he haunts the deep in search of those to add to his growing collection, he will find himself back in the river when he is feeling restless and slightly nostalgic. The river had been his friend during his most lonely days, and was where he refined and honed his skill set for hours upon hours - it holds a special place within him, and returning here soothes the evergreen and pearl stallion.
Beneath the water is where he spends most of his time - submerged beneath its vortex of pressure and darkness, left to his own thoughts and devices. He has yet to find any that call the water their home permanently like he does - he is no kelpie, and does not like to be mistaken for one. His bloodlust is all his own; not genetic or instinctual. He will take to the shore when he needs to, but his life belongs to the water.
In his liquified state, the stallion is nearly invisible; save for when he gets closer to the surface and sunlight refracts and bends through the water, where then the soft outline of a body perhaps will form. Though, sometimes, he materializes himself in such a way because he wishes to be seen. And when his sharp eyes spy a floating and ethereal form pirouetting through the waters, his interest is piqued and a slight shimmer of him becomes visible.
He follows her - and perhaps she realizes it and perhaps she doesn’t - for he has never seen one such as her before. A tailfin peddles her through the river, and watery wings help her glide seamlessly through the current. Unlike himself, who bends the water to his will at a mere thought, and uses his mind to propel himself forward - ghost-like in most ways. She nears the shore, and it is a pivotal moment where he can reach out with his mind and wrap her in the water she so easily finds herself in and keep her from emerging into the sunlight, but he chooses not to force her. Instead, with a voice that is garbled from water, he calls to her:
“Wait.”
A command, maybe, but perhaps she will be as curious as he is to know more about another who shares the water as their home.
Maugrim allows himself to materialize a bit more, the lavender pearl splashed on his shoulders and haunches becoming a bit more clear, his face a little more defined. It is not everday he meets one such as this (there had been others: the jellyfish girl or even the one girl from Pangea, before it was lost to the sea), and part of him wishes to add her to his collection as a trinket, a pretty shining thing beneath the darkness of the deep, but another part of him is attracted to the water that surrounds her and is a part of her.
Beneath the water is where he spends most of his time - submerged beneath its vortex of pressure and darkness, left to his own thoughts and devices. He has yet to find any that call the water their home permanently like he does - he is no kelpie, and does not like to be mistaken for one. His bloodlust is all his own; not genetic or instinctual. He will take to the shore when he needs to, but his life belongs to the water.
In his liquified state, the stallion is nearly invisible; save for when he gets closer to the surface and sunlight refracts and bends through the water, where then the soft outline of a body perhaps will form. Though, sometimes, he materializes himself in such a way because he wishes to be seen. And when his sharp eyes spy a floating and ethereal form pirouetting through the waters, his interest is piqued and a slight shimmer of him becomes visible.
He follows her - and perhaps she realizes it and perhaps she doesn’t - for he has never seen one such as her before. A tailfin peddles her through the river, and watery wings help her glide seamlessly through the current. Unlike himself, who bends the water to his will at a mere thought, and uses his mind to propel himself forward - ghost-like in most ways. She nears the shore, and it is a pivotal moment where he can reach out with his mind and wrap her in the water she so easily finds herself in and keep her from emerging into the sunlight, but he chooses not to force her. Instead, with a voice that is garbled from water, he calls to her:
“Wait.”
A command, maybe, but perhaps she will be as curious as he is to know more about another who shares the water as their home.
Maugrim allows himself to materialize a bit more, the lavender pearl splashed on his shoulders and haunches becoming a bit more clear, his face a little more defined. It is not everday he meets one such as this (there had been others: the jellyfish girl or even the one girl from Pangea, before it was lost to the sea), and part of him wishes to add her to his collection as a trinket, a pretty shining thing beneath the darkness of the deep, but another part of him is attracted to the water that surrounds her and is a part of her.
m a u g r i m.
@[Nyxa]