Post by Lillith on Mar 6, 2005 16:28:29 GMT -5
True_Lady_Death: All too long it had been. Was this not de ja vu though? Indeed,she had been in this same situation before.. so many, many moons ago. Locked with Winterhaven, asleep yet not, brooding alone on her existence. Yet this Lady could never remain thus for long. Soon enough it would well up within her, that need, that desire for.. -something-. For her though, that something usually meant bloodshed. Making her presence known once again amongst those who thought themselves worthy of life. Bringing herself amongst the masses in the hopes that there would be one.. just one capable of giving her the Battle she desired, craved so deeply. Never would this drive leave her. She had sat within the darkness surrounding her obsidian throne, allowing the Shadows to cradle her as the time passed by. Yet even Death must rise eventually, and rise she did. Shadows washed away from her as her statuesque form pulled up from her perch, snowy mane falling in a cascade of silken strands to kiss at the sleek leather wrapped around muscular calves. Her head would tilt as almondesque eyes would slowly drift open once again, moonlit pools taking in the sight of her stronghold Winterhaven after many a moon. A subtle cant of her head, listening, seeking.. it was time to Hunt. Death had taken a vacation one might say, but now the vacation was over and it was once again time to feel blood between her fingers. A single thud of her booted foot as Apocalypse sang free from its sheathe, and but a single though as she stepped forth. There in the forest a shift would occur, a darkening within the Shadows beneath a clump of trees, a churning of the Darkness she commanded as her presence was made known. The temperature would plummet dramatically as Death took steps within the wood, it would seem as if the early spring was waning quite unseasonally. Scents taken in, the sound of light banter from a nearby inn.. a cold smile curling the corners of sanguine tiers. Let the Hunt begin.
thalin_stormhand: It had been a while since Ayenee's least-favorite cynical mage had frequented the taverns of Ayenee. Generally his attention was elsewhere, whether he was on the run or working on some project of Universal Importance or sticking his meddling fingers into the soup of the gods. Or just wandering aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind. Whatever, Thalin was here now, heralded by the obscenely loud clop-clopping of his horse's hooves. The clop-clopping was obscenely loud because his horse was obscenely fat; appropriately named Barrel, he was shaggy and brown and ugly and nearly as wide as he was long. Thalin himself wasn't much prettier, though much thinner. The color of his cloak, trousers, boots, hair, and beard matched his horse, and the only bit of color about him was green eyes.
Narrowed eyes of bright moon as she watched the arrival of one she knew so well. She made no attempt to cloak herself within her Shadows, knowing all to well Thalin would recognize her signature right away. Yet, if she remained standing at the edge of the trees, would he notice she was there then? Would he even care really. So many times thier paths had crossed only to split apart again and again. Did she hate this man? No. Did she trust him? Notin the least. Thalin Stormhand seemed to be Ayenees last remaining hero. Constanty standing in her way. Always there to put a stop to any sort of confrontation she would begin. An itch she could never quite scratch. A derisive sniff she would give as her head tilted, snowy locks dancing across a visage holding an intense beauty. Alabaster flesh gleaming brightly, well oiled leathers making that most delicious sound as she moved with a predatory grace towards the Inn. Indeed she could simply -appear- within the walls of the place, yet she enjoyed taking Thalin aback whenever she could. Yet her attention wavered from Thalin momentarily as Edward made his way out of the Inn. Ruby lips curled at the corners, lofting a brow as she studied the man lost in his thoughts. Perhaps some amusement might be garnered after all..
thalin_stormhand: The woman who so audaciously (Thalin thought) called herself Death was shit out of luck. No sooner had Thalin entered the general area than his head turned almost of its own accord, placing his eyes directly in line with Death. That mysterious bond that had somehow manifested between them would not allow him to come within a few miles of her without becoming aware of it. "Hero" would be a word too strong to describe Thalin, though. If he considered himself such, he probably would have done his best to kill Death (no pun intended) long ago. That was what righteous people did, wasn't it? Kill the wicked, and such? Nah. Not for Thalin. He was the exception to the rule in a number of ways. For instance, he carried no weapon at all, silver or otherwise.
And though, according to all the rumors, Thalin had considerable power at his disposal, he chose not to unleash it at the drop of a hat. Thalin didn't hate Death any more than she hated him. Neither did he regard her as an itch he couldn't quite scratch. No, Thalin held her in a sense of amusement. The woman was a psychologist's nightmare, and his relationship with her was about as simple as the warren of a family of rabbits. When Death glanced his way, Thalin met her eyes with a grin and a cheeky wink before directing his horse toward the inn. Let the games begin, said the wink. That was how Thalin thought of them these days. It wasn't a battle between them, but a game, an almost-friendly competition to one-up the other.
Interesting. Edward had made his retreat right back into the Inn. She would laugh low, yet the sound would carry. wafting forth to travel within the Inn, circling the room, the cold sound caressing upon Edward momentarily. Again, her vision drifted to Thalin, who had indeed noted her presence. <i>There must be some way to sever this tie we have..</i> ..a thought to herself. It was becoming tiresome, to be linked so to this mage. She did not likethe fact he toyed with her so. His little wink, his irritating grin.. oh she knew what it was supposed to do. He so enjoyed rising her ire. Staring after him in her cold silence, it would not be long before she was tracing his steps. Stopping within the door allowing her piercing gaze to wander the room. Glaring at all the pathetic rabble gathered before boots carried her through the room. Why she was even bothering she did not know. She chose however not to follow Thalin directly. Instead she chose a chair at a table next to a wall, allowing herself to see all those around her. waiting in silence, watching Thalin.
thalin_stormhand: Thalin had made a B-line for the bar. Every place in Ayenee had one, even remote forests and temple ruins. Some had two or three. Thalin navigated through the crowds without any especial difficulty. Just as he was about to reach the bar, the usual ruckus opened up in the form of the shout: You're mine, Corban! Thalin didn't even bother to turn around. If Corban was involved, his interferance wouldn't be necessary. The mage so despised bloodshed, but at the moment he just wasn't in the mood to step in the middle of flashing swords and flying fireballs to try and restore order. He did glance over his shoulder at a loud crash; it seemed a giant silver werewolf had just fallen in through the door. So good to be home, was Thalin's cynical thought. Turning back to the bar and ignoring the werewolf on general principle (attention-getters shriveled up when they were ignored), Thalin placed an order for red wine, sliding a few silvers across the bar toward Aleena. He wasn't sure of the pricing at this place, but that usually covered it. He didn't have to turn to know where Death sat; he could have pointed to her. He did turn, though, making his way back through the throng to stand by Death's table, conveniently in the corner like all the other tables. "Mind if I join you?" he inquired politely. "Looks like there's entertainment provided." He jerked his head toward the confrontation that was taking place.
thalin_stormhand: It had been a while since Ayenee's least-favorite cynical mage had frequented the taverns of Ayenee. Generally his attention was elsewhere, whether he was on the run or working on some project of Universal Importance or sticking his meddling fingers into the soup of the gods. Or just wandering aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind. Whatever, Thalin was here now, heralded by the obscenely loud clop-clopping of his horse's hooves. The clop-clopping was obscenely loud because his horse was obscenely fat; appropriately named Barrel, he was shaggy and brown and ugly and nearly as wide as he was long. Thalin himself wasn't much prettier, though much thinner. The color of his cloak, trousers, boots, hair, and beard matched his horse, and the only bit of color about him was green eyes.
Narrowed eyes of bright moon as she watched the arrival of one she knew so well. She made no attempt to cloak herself within her Shadows, knowing all to well Thalin would recognize her signature right away. Yet, if she remained standing at the edge of the trees, would he notice she was there then? Would he even care really. So many times thier paths had crossed only to split apart again and again. Did she hate this man? No. Did she trust him? Notin the least. Thalin Stormhand seemed to be Ayenees last remaining hero. Constanty standing in her way. Always there to put a stop to any sort of confrontation she would begin. An itch she could never quite scratch. A derisive sniff she would give as her head tilted, snowy locks dancing across a visage holding an intense beauty. Alabaster flesh gleaming brightly, well oiled leathers making that most delicious sound as she moved with a predatory grace towards the Inn. Indeed she could simply -appear- within the walls of the place, yet she enjoyed taking Thalin aback whenever she could. Yet her attention wavered from Thalin momentarily as Edward made his way out of the Inn. Ruby lips curled at the corners, lofting a brow as she studied the man lost in his thoughts. Perhaps some amusement might be garnered after all..
thalin_stormhand: The woman who so audaciously (Thalin thought) called herself Death was shit out of luck. No sooner had Thalin entered the general area than his head turned almost of its own accord, placing his eyes directly in line with Death. That mysterious bond that had somehow manifested between them would not allow him to come within a few miles of her without becoming aware of it. "Hero" would be a word too strong to describe Thalin, though. If he considered himself such, he probably would have done his best to kill Death (no pun intended) long ago. That was what righteous people did, wasn't it? Kill the wicked, and such? Nah. Not for Thalin. He was the exception to the rule in a number of ways. For instance, he carried no weapon at all, silver or otherwise.
And though, according to all the rumors, Thalin had considerable power at his disposal, he chose not to unleash it at the drop of a hat. Thalin didn't hate Death any more than she hated him. Neither did he regard her as an itch he couldn't quite scratch. No, Thalin held her in a sense of amusement. The woman was a psychologist's nightmare, and his relationship with her was about as simple as the warren of a family of rabbits. When Death glanced his way, Thalin met her eyes with a grin and a cheeky wink before directing his horse toward the inn. Let the games begin, said the wink. That was how Thalin thought of them these days. It wasn't a battle between them, but a game, an almost-friendly competition to one-up the other.
Interesting. Edward had made his retreat right back into the Inn. She would laugh low, yet the sound would carry. wafting forth to travel within the Inn, circling the room, the cold sound caressing upon Edward momentarily. Again, her vision drifted to Thalin, who had indeed noted her presence. <i>There must be some way to sever this tie we have..</i> ..a thought to herself. It was becoming tiresome, to be linked so to this mage. She did not likethe fact he toyed with her so. His little wink, his irritating grin.. oh she knew what it was supposed to do. He so enjoyed rising her ire. Staring after him in her cold silence, it would not be long before she was tracing his steps. Stopping within the door allowing her piercing gaze to wander the room. Glaring at all the pathetic rabble gathered before boots carried her through the room. Why she was even bothering she did not know. She chose however not to follow Thalin directly. Instead she chose a chair at a table next to a wall, allowing herself to see all those around her. waiting in silence, watching Thalin.
thalin_stormhand: Thalin had made a B-line for the bar. Every place in Ayenee had one, even remote forests and temple ruins. Some had two or three. Thalin navigated through the crowds without any especial difficulty. Just as he was about to reach the bar, the usual ruckus opened up in the form of the shout: You're mine, Corban! Thalin didn't even bother to turn around. If Corban was involved, his interferance wouldn't be necessary. The mage so despised bloodshed, but at the moment he just wasn't in the mood to step in the middle of flashing swords and flying fireballs to try and restore order. He did glance over his shoulder at a loud crash; it seemed a giant silver werewolf had just fallen in through the door. So good to be home, was Thalin's cynical thought. Turning back to the bar and ignoring the werewolf on general principle (attention-getters shriveled up when they were ignored), Thalin placed an order for red wine, sliding a few silvers across the bar toward Aleena. He wasn't sure of the pricing at this place, but that usually covered it. He didn't have to turn to know where Death sat; he could have pointed to her. He did turn, though, making his way back through the throng to stand by Death's table, conveniently in the corner like all the other tables. "Mind if I join you?" he inquired politely. "Looks like there's entertainment provided." He jerked his head toward the confrontation that was taking place.