the moth on your porch

[Naoi]

and miles to go before I sleep… Dawn. The shapes and colors of a new day materialized around her slowly, and at the moment, rather puzzlingly. Something was abnormal here, something about the mingled scents of transient horses, yet the general lack of company. And she, patient or stupid, lingered against the grey wall of stone, intently listening in total silence. Wildflowers dotted the green world in an array of colors, each of them too complex, too vibrant for a world so gray. Before the sun had fully risen, they were merely tolerable, such were most things.  Frustrated, she blinked up at the misty sky above, leaving sunspots burned into her eyes when they returned to the meadow below. She could see his silhouette in those violent hues, smell the sweat on his velvet skin, the decay and the decadence, everything that was terrible and wonderful in the world. Accursed thing, a captor and a killer, but she loved him nonetheless. And what punishment awaited her, when he found her? His eye was always watching, blinding and burning, even when he closed his grey eyelids. It’s possible there were other things for him to see, important man that he was… but no, she knew. His wrath loomed steady, coiled like a venomous snake and ready to strike at any moment. He waits for her to wear herself out, only to finish her off himself. It’s curious, really, that a god would wait for his prey to tire, but I suppose as much is to be expected for such a busy man and an insignificant girl. She knew very little of the world, but she knew her place. It is truly a shame that it wasn’t firmly twisted around his little finger, as he insisted, but even a god cannot change the laws of nature or the will of a heathenous woman, perhaps even moreso the latter. Regardless, his current plan was working; the girl was exhausted, as much from being suspicious of every shadow as from the flight itself.  Carefully, she slunk forward to dip her mouth to the water, wincing when a step on a small limb caused an audible crack. It wasn’t until the first sip that she realized how thirsty she was, and drank heartily, almost forgetting herself for a moment as she satisfied her thirst. For a few seconds, a new god was found in that rippling pool, but only until she saw him reflected in the water, grinning cruelly as he reminded her. She gasped when she felt his breath on her neck, and stumbled backwards- but it was only a memory, or he was already gone, and she was left alone and trembling to face the newest day of reckoning. naoi

[Engelsfors]

Drink thy poison lightly dear, ♦♢♦ The shadows bathe me in their velvety sheath, concealed from the light, concealed from the bright winter sunlight. I have lost myself in the deepest recesses of the chamber for hours, come moonlight's finest hour, to the midday sun breaking through the thickest of naked boughs. I have wandered the ash tainted land, scarred and deeply rooted, my eyes was a wonder of dreamless sleep, my mind awake within my nightmares. The warmth in the wind, it is truly spring, shifting to summer’s reign, embedding deeper and deeper into my bones, right down to the marrow core. It is refreshing, from the previous season’s chill that ran along my body in errant rivulets. My nightly escapades have been a plenty, and I have explored the deepest depths, finding the pounding of the chamber's heart, one of a homely comfort. But my wanders through the night had let me to the field once more.  The sun is bright, tangerine and ivory, piercing in its presence. The blossomed boughs of spring’s reign conceal me, lessen the harsh sun's glow upon my skin. I remain on the beaten track, my lithe yet lofty frame a swift dancer over protruding roots and thick brush. Hooves pound the drying earth. The cracks of bark resounding in the early morning silence. There are not many that stay concealed, my azure eyes survey the field from the darker boundary, drinking in the new smells, the new appearances. There are some old, some new.. but all I have not the slightest clue in knowing. Well, perhaps in time. Strong appendages, long and lithe, pull me further along the boundaries of the field, eyes still scanning the centre, trying to spot a lone straggler. Like fruit upon a tree, ripe for picking and the first to gently tug it from it's branch. I notice then, crown slithering back to look ahead of me, that there are some that prefer the sunlight’s warm glow, the tangerine rays that seems to bathe one with a never-ending glow, it is like the sun can see into the deepest reaches of your heart your soul. there are some things inside of me that even the sun would have trouble brightening, and it's those dark, dark secrets that burn within me. Warming my deadened heart from inside out. Cerulean orbs find her then, the stranger; though she seems skittish with the dancing shadows, the creaks of tree boughs, I still approach. A brief smile, debonair and brilliant, peels my lips back. Wavy tendrils of mane fall over my neck, my eyes as I extend my muzzle, nostrils fluttering, eyes alive with the gloss of inquiry, questions and answers. ‘Early morning water tastes so refreshing, No?’ my voice is black magic and velvet, twists of poison slipping from the glass, running down in thick purple rivulets. I am a bittersweet facade of grace and sultry poise. Blinking eyes then draw up, meeting the stranger's 'I'm Engelsfors, of The Chamber. You are?' ♦♢♦ there are deeper and darker things than you; professor of the chamber

html by magpie77 - photo manip by beequeen - character by magpie77

[Naoi]

It should not have surprised her in the slightest to look up and see him gliding in her direction, a world of gleaming color come to grace the bleak world below. Yet it did, for some part of her- previously disregarded- had held hope that she had escaped him, and her body tensed in anticipation of yet another flight in vain. Her weary muscles protested, and her still-wearier mind agreed. For what good what it do, when all the miles had not saved her, had not kept her hidden? Perhaps in the darkness? But the suggestion was immediately discarded, for even in her fear, she knew that lurking in the dark was a greater terror still. Only a silver tongue could save her, if anything, or one sharp enough to call the blade quickly. So she stood frozen, mind racing but with minimal cohesive thought. Yet, enough awareness remained for her to realize that something was wrong in this scenario. He moved just a hair too slowly, too luxuriously, too… effeminately? She blinked dry eyes for the first time in several seconds, and the scent on the mild breeze told the truth. It wasn’t him at all. She was slender and supple where he was bound in coarse muscle, a pretty face with a broader blaze and a slightly shorter stature. Wide eyes softened slightly and fear dissipated, though the shock remained. The golden mare’s voice barely made it past the pounding of blood in her ears. “Particularly on the path of a dry road.” Her voice was raspy and hesitant, dried from lack of use and moisture of the recent days. The familiar taste of copper reminded her of that terrible habit of chewing on the tip of her tongue when she was nervous, something mother used to always fuss about. She began slowly to recover her sluggish thoughts long enough to assess her new companion beyond the initial reaction. Perhaps one of his underlings, or a priestess, sent in his stead? She was certainly lovely enough, this child of the sun, but a goddess? Does a goddess need to drink? Perhaps to sustain the life of a mortal shell, fair enough. Even he had to supply the coil with nutrients, not unlike her own pale body. She barely caught the visitor’s next words through the haze. “Eng- Naoi. I am Naoi.” She shook her head slightly, trying to clear the dull fuzz that was returning as quickly as the adrenaline dissipated. Visions of sleep flashed across her mind and she nearly smiled in response, blinking quickly before recovering herself. A yawn that she had stifled fought its way out of her jaws, eyelids fluttering for a moment before looking murkily back to the mare. She heard no knife and saw no blood, and silently pleaded for the end to come quickly, if it will. The bloodstains had long since washed from her coat and the bruises were slowly healing, but the wolf would always be at the door. She almost laughed bitterly at the thought, for his plan became clear. Teach her this final lesson- let her beg for the mercy he was so eager to dish out. Focus, she told herself, recalling that another question had been left unanswered. “… of nowhere.” Well, love, I’m waiting. naoi

[Engelsfors]

Drink thy poison lightly dear, ♦♢♦ I had an uncanny ability on being the shrewd one at reading others; the way their jaw tensed just before a lie, the way their eyes glazed over for that fleeting second when they were truly saddened by what was said, but made out it was all fine. The droop in the shoulders, a well placed twitch of muscle. Being in a large herd when I was a young filly, it was good for something. But most of the time, I was learning how to ward off the masculine eyes, that lingered too long over my young, impressionable curves. I was too young and what they thought, too naive, but their reality was harsh and quite painful in the end. And that was the day that most learnt to not underestimate the golden mare, and her shrewd eyes, ever watchful, ever knowing. I've noticed early on that this spotted mare is uncomfortable; as though looking over her shoulder and jumping at the sight of a shifting shadow. I watched her, silently, analysing her. The way she chewed her tongue, the flicker of an ear. She was definitely running from something, or someone, and it if it were right there, hiding in the underbrush, waiting. 'I don't recommend running from your past, you know.' my infection is cool, crisp and very transparent. my willowy limbs twist and move, gentle thuds knocking the ground as I move inches across the loam, watching, analysing. I'm careful though to not get too near, if she was indeed hanging on the promise of chase, she could easily sway the other way. I remain resolute though, creamy tresses, gossamer and ash ridden, fall over my crystalline blue eyes. 'Naoi. Pleasure.' crisply cool, black magic slowly weaving lulling spells into the warm dawn air. I listen, stepping forward, creaking almost. 'It's no fun, being part of nowhere. I know somewhere where it would be delightful.' perhaps sounding ominous, mayhems menacing, but my spellbinding voice, a soft lilt, was calm and cool. My silver tongue, finely polished. 'We have great sentinel trees, perfect for hiding, if you so wish to continue running and... concealing yourself from something... or someone.' I pause then, stalking away a little, gliding my golden plume over my loins. Sapphire gems never leaving Naoi. 'I don't recommend hiding and running though. It always catches up to you in the end, when you least expect it.' earnest and august. my whimsical words shed spires of moonlight upon a darkened spot, gentle, gentle. 'The Chamber. It allows a clarity to sweep your mind, and then, then you can really see what you want to see, do what you want to do.' ♦♢♦ there are deeper and darker things than you; professor of the chamber

html by magpie77 - photo manip by beequeen - character by magpie77

[Camrynn]

so you wanna play with magic?

The gods mean nothing to her. It is not that she fails to believe in them; rather, she walks among them, walks with them, is of them. She wears her power like resplendent robes, dripping off her sinuous curves, saturated into every crevice of her being. Split her open, split her down to the smallest cell, the most miniscule atom, and still you will find the magic nestled there, wrapped right up against her DNA.

She breathes, and she finds herself on the fringes of the field. So often she watches the horses here from the comfort of the Deserts, basking at her leisure in the comfort of the warm sand and the sun. But today, she brings herself out into the springtime early, and watches them all (listens to them all) from a little bit closer afield.

She doesn't listen with her ears; that's a bit too common, too plain for her tastes. Instead, she listens with her mind, to their minds. Her thoughts flit between them like a bird, tasting the insipid conversation of one group, and the electric energy of another. It is a glorious milieu, and it leaves her sated.

It is only when she stumbles upon a quiet corner that she pauses. Anything might catch her mind, but in this case, anything is a mare, by all accounts more or less quiet and common. Camrynn has a thing for gifts - after all, like attracts like – but in this case, it's the very lack of gifts that fascinates her. She can sense history here, and something tells her that in this case she shouldn't pry.

It takes a lot to get Camrynn not to pry. Such courtesies are normally reserved for her fellow magic-wielders. And, it would appear, special snowflakes with a past so dark that it haunts their every movement.

Another horse arrives first, a golden mare of the Chamber, but Camrynn doesn't mind. She walks with the cool confidence of a mare so certain, so sure, that she is entirely at her ease. She is a beautiful thing, pure black save for a gilded crook and flail across her chest, a drip of diamonds like a necklace across her cheek, and gorgeous color-changing eyes, at the moment a deep, rich gold. Her body is lithe and shapely, free of scars and free of any marks. Her mane and tail are long and free of tangles, unnaturally perfect for a horse.

She wonders, for a moment, if she should adjust, make herself more human in order to better appeal to the mare she may or may not be aiming to court. She decides against it.

Her golden eyes flick first to the few spot mare, and then to the golden girl of the Chamber. She offers each a delicate nod, subtle and small – she's not too deferential, at least, not here, not to them. "Engelsfors." she greets the palomino first. Her voice is like liquid velvet, impossibly smooth, impossibly pleasant. Like rich chocolate, her words invite you to get lost in their depths.

And then she turns her eyes on the newcomer. "And Naoi, was it?" She gives the mare a hint of a smile, but it is a genuine, warm smile. She wonders if the mare can feel the power that Camrynn carries. She isn't terribly bothered either way. "A pleasure." her voice is genuine, earnest.

"I'm Camrynn, from the Deserts." she introduces herself, leaving off the fact that she is more than just from the Deserts – she, along with Pevensie, leads the Deserts as its queen. "I hop e you'll forgive me for being late to the party." she offers with a small grin before growing somber again. "I couldn't help overhearing our perceptive friend Engelsfors, and wanted to come offer you the shelter of the Deserts against whatever it is you may, or may not, be running from." She pauses then, entirely aware that this girl has demons and trying to soften her words accordingly. It is one thing to be hunted; it is another thing to be so obviously hunted that a stranger can see it at a glance. Naoi is more the latter than the former, but it's the least Camrynn can do to pretend. " The Chamber has its strengths, to be sure, and I don't doubt they'd do their best to protect you, and to allow you to flourish here in Beqanna." she speaks earnestly, giving the Chamber its due. "But in the Deserts, you'll be protected by more than just the sentinel pines. You'll be defended by strength, and thus, you'll be free to discover who you are when you're not running." She smiles. "Not to mention, it's bright and warm and lovely." 

She reaches out with her magic then. Her physical body stays perfectly still, every sense watching the few spot mare. Her magic is an invisible, soothing mist, which will stop the moment the mare even thinks to be made uncomfortable by it, but which, if Naoi allows it to do so, will work to soothe the ache from her muscles and breathe fresh life into the mare's tired body.

CAMRYNN

co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery

Hope you guys don't mind the intrusion! <3

[Naoi]

Of course you’d know the story, for a priestess wouldn’t waste her energy chasing after insects if she didn’t at least understand the things that had transpired. Not one of this poise, in the very least. So carefully constructed, down to each measured breath and artfully crafted pulse. “Nor would I, with rare exception.” A half-smirk, though bittersweet, before it faded into nothing. She is captivating, isn’t she? Even for a priestess, known for their remarkable… talents. That familiar buzzing feeling resurfaced, sickly sweet, the poison deep in the pit of her stomach that made her skin tingle and chest ache. It was electrifying, being this close to him- she could almost feel his fingerprints around her throat still, the scratch marks down her back. And here she was, the golden idol, almost as if he was here in the flesh. And given, he could be, though even his greatest devotee would be impressed with the restraint required to turn a heedless man into a demure young maiden. A siren, perhaps, but patient nonetheless, and ever so sweet. She nodded politely, barely listening through the fog of memories seeking to wallpaper the reality surrounding. The stranger fed a familiar tale, one that should be bittersweet by now but always addicting to dear Naoi. By now, the priestess’s fire and the rising sun was beginning to draw the girl from drowsiness and into a world of calculated new possibility. She yawned again after a feeble attempt to stifle it, attention gradually becoming more concentrated on the flash of blue eyes in a sea of gold and glitter. “Ahh, I don’t know that I’d say no fun- fond memories I have of starving and stumbling, you know.” A mock of indignation marked a slight shift from uneasiness. Sleep deprivation and a few choice stressors rendered her less capable to remain overtly suspicious for long. (and besides, you’d always said you would greet death with open arms.) “Oh, it does catch up, I’ve seen it plenty.” Because you, priestess, never brought your blade here to begin with; you laid it so carefully on your kitchen table and waited for the girl to come home for supper. I understand. “An invitation, hmm? I’ll warn you that I’m not much for commitment- but a delightful place of rest might do some good.” A delightful place of sentinel trees, a place far from your eyes because it’s closer to your teeth. The chill returned to race icy fingers down her spine. She could nearly sense the night air around her, feel the crackle of electricity in the crisp autumn air and that same burning in her chest. The memory vanished, but the sentiment remained. So carefully did she stroll along the cliffsides in the evening, hating and loving every moment of fear, only to awaken in a soft meadow with no evidence to the contrary. Yet this was different, after all. This was his own hand outstretched, exuding golden rays even in mortality. Such was her distraction that she started a little to see the approach of another, one that instantly captivated the little mare. Eyes widened slightly to take in the gleam of her markings in the morning sun, breathtaking in her radiance and exuding the poised air of great power. No disciple stood before her, but a foreign queen, perhaps a goddess in her own right. What a curious thing, she thought (with maybe just a smidgen of unwarranted pride) that fate continued to grace her with the presence of greatness, just the little spotted girl from the barren lands. Stranger still, she offers yet another residence to the girl, who at this point is quite humbled, try as she might to hide the creep of uncertainty at the back of her mind. It had been so plain before, and she’d done nothing but wade through murky swamps ever since. What was he planning? Clearly, the choice was some kind of test- his golden priestess or the sovereign goddess, prepared to take her to a land where he could watch her every moment. She shifted uncomfortably before realizing she was being rude, and opened her mouth to speak. “Camrynn, lovely… of course.” She attempted to return the smile warmly, though the result was a tad lukewarm when paired with eyelids fighting desperately to close.  Unsure, now, rusty in the world of manners and polite company she had apparently arrived in, she foggily struggled to match the manners of her companions. “I must say that I am truly flattered to receive such invitations, particularly from strangers of such great lands.” Suddenly, the tides changed drastically as the magic kissed her sweaty skin- she inhaled deeply as the tedious world faded momentarily, the blinding sun escaped her world, weary muscles regained some strength. Even he blinked for a moment and looked elsewhere, rather than haughtily perching over her shoulder. She lifted her sagging head with a touch of dignity now, though she could still feel the exhaustion deep in weary bones and overworked sinew. This change of heart was suspicious in and of itself, but the predicament at hand distracted her from speculation. What game was this? It was too obvious. He wanted her to pick the goddess because she appeared to be stronger, independent and untouched by his corruption, yet nobody was truly sovereign when it came to him. We all depend on him each and every day we live and breathe, all yield to his whims when he puts forth the effort to make it so. Take the moth into the sun, back where she never belonged, where he could burn her skin and claw at her eyes. The priestess, he reckons, is too obvious, for she is not a goddess, but at his service. For the first time since Camrynn’s arrival, her eyes shifted back to the golden priestess, then back to the gleaming goddess apologetically. She shifted, nervous again, unaccustomed to choosing her own path but well aware that there would be no rest in the unrelenting sunlight, however assured of their own protections. “I… I think I should go in the shadows for a while.” (and I never believed you when you told me I’d be more afraid of the light)   naoi

OOC: so sorry for the delay, shitty internet and work killing my hands. also apparently the need to crank out a big postah