11-17-2018, 05:59 PM
The mare she appears in front of is blue and round, and easy to mistake for the one she is looking for. A shower of golden sand that appeared with the genie vanishes on its fall to the pale beach, and the hot blast of desert wind with it. Though she has kept to the flowering meadows of the pampas since Cor’s birth, there are some parts of her that will never really disappear, no matter how long she plays at normalcy.
Blood spatters the ground at her feet, strewn by the coughing woman she thinks is Luster. There is only a moment of hesitation, of the amoral djinn weighing options. For all her benevolence, the pink dun mare with neon green irises is never altruistic. She seems to be at time, like now, when she wishes the plague from the bleeding mare on the sand in front of her. Only after does she glance up, and the first spectator she locks eyes with is none other than Luster. A frown creases her cobwebbed forehead and Djinni glances back down. So that is not Luster, but a woman who looks enough like her to surely be a sister. Around her are strangers, faces that she does not know and find utterly unappealing.
Why Luster associates with these simple things puzzles Djinni, but she supposes that the girl has her reasons. Djinni reminds herself that when she had been mortal she’d been much the same, concerned with the concerns of others, a bothersome virus of empathy that she’s almost rid herself of now. Almost.
A wish to heal the rest of them, the coughing red mare and the man with his bones outside his skin, those afflicted by the plague. She says nothing, feeling the world around her quiver in ways the rest of them will not see. They shimmer, the horses around her, fragments of their physiques shifting with each nanosecond, glimpses of the others they might have been, the infinite universes that might have been. It is into one where the plague is healed that she wishes them now, a world where the virus is cast out of the infected creatures gathered on the shore around her. As they flip by, a trillion in a breath, the gleaming green of her eyes grows duller. First emerald then olive then hazel until they settle on a dull black. Darker even than her natural gold-flecked doe eyes, this darkness is the only sign of the way her energy flicks away, grasping for the world in which her wish has been granted.
@[The Plague]
Djinni is attempting to fully heal Heartfire, Dovev, Leiliana, and Cress of the Plague with her trait of Genie.
Blood spatters the ground at her feet, strewn by the coughing woman she thinks is Luster. There is only a moment of hesitation, of the amoral djinn weighing options. For all her benevolence, the pink dun mare with neon green irises is never altruistic. She seems to be at time, like now, when she wishes the plague from the bleeding mare on the sand in front of her. Only after does she glance up, and the first spectator she locks eyes with is none other than Luster. A frown creases her cobwebbed forehead and Djinni glances back down. So that is not Luster, but a woman who looks enough like her to surely be a sister. Around her are strangers, faces that she does not know and find utterly unappealing.
Why Luster associates with these simple things puzzles Djinni, but she supposes that the girl has her reasons. Djinni reminds herself that when she had been mortal she’d been much the same, concerned with the concerns of others, a bothersome virus of empathy that she’s almost rid herself of now. Almost.
A wish to heal the rest of them, the coughing red mare and the man with his bones outside his skin, those afflicted by the plague. She says nothing, feeling the world around her quiver in ways the rest of them will not see. They shimmer, the horses around her, fragments of their physiques shifting with each nanosecond, glimpses of the others they might have been, the infinite universes that might have been. It is into one where the plague is healed that she wishes them now, a world where the virus is cast out of the infected creatures gathered on the shore around her. As they flip by, a trillion in a breath, the gleaming green of her eyes grows duller. First emerald then olive then hazel until they settle on a dull black. Darker even than her natural gold-flecked doe eyes, this darkness is the only sign of the way her energy flicks away, grasping for the world in which her wish has been granted.
@[The Plague]
Djinni is attempting to fully heal Heartfire, Dovev, Leiliana, and Cress of the Plague with her trait of Genie.
D J I N N I
genie | rose gold tobiano dun | trickster