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by Serrif Von Chatlyn on March 3rd, 2011, 2:34 pm
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by Blythe on March 3rd, 2011, 5:00 pm
Blythe had woken up relatively early so that she may get the most out of her day. She had made sure to kiss Keyta on the forehead and tell her that she was going down to the beach for a swim. It seemed like an eternity had passed since she last spent a day doing something purely for herself. Well, for the most part. Keyta had managed to communicate the fact that she had left her things on the beach the day she was injured, so Blythe promised she'd spend at least part of the day looking for Keyta's things. A very small portion... after Blythe had relaxed as much as she possibly could. Blythe had practically skipped down to the beach like a small child filled to the brim with joy. The sun was shining down on Blythe. Keeping her skin warm as her scales shimmered a pale pink in the sunlight. She carried nothing on her person, and wore only a simple white dress, and her gladiator sandals. The dress was fluttering behind her in the soft spring breeze. Making soft whipping sounds as her sandals dug into her heels and caused them to sting. Sometimes, she really hated the things since they hurt her whenever she tried to maintain a quickened pace. Perhaps she should get a new pair of shoes sometime in the near future, she thought, a she reached the edge of the beach, and kicked off her shoes. Blythe left them at the top of the beach as she ran towards the water, kicking up clods of warm beige sand; leaving imperfect footprints in her stead. They and her shoes remained the only sign of her presence. When she reached the shoreline, and dry beige sand darkened into water-stained, dark brown, wet sand, Blythe stopped moving. Her feet sunk slowly into the cold sand beneath her feet. Sand grains filled the spaces between her toes, and tickled her. Blythe could hear the sound of the crashing waves. The calls of the occasional seagull above her head. She could see the waves as they crashed into the shore, foaming upon impact. See the tiny bubbles bursting around her feet as the last wave returned to the sea and tried to drag her body with it. Each time they made way for a new wave; another attempt by the sea to draw her into it. Soon enough, she knew, she would heed its subtle call, and wade into the blue-green waters of the sea. But right now, she simply wanted to take a moment and enjoy how it looked beneath the sun. How the light made the water sparkle with a bright red and orange light. A reflection of the fiery orb itself. Blythe closed her eyes and breathed deeply in through her nose and then out through her mouth. She allowed herself to take in all the sounds that surrounded her- the birds, the crashing waves, the whistling wind that rustled her dress. Blythe raised her arms so that each of them hung out at her sides, as though she were welcoming the elements into them. Calling them to her. She could feel the wind passing between the tiny spaces between her fingers. It felt so cool, so inviting, like the water. Blythe opened her eyes, took a few steps back and into the dry sand, which clung to her wet feet. Tickling. She wanted to wash it off. Deciding that this was as good a time as any, Blythe pulled her dress off and tossed it behind her into the dry sand, before she walked back towards the water. The wind was hitting her freshly-exposed body, causing it to shiver as her blonde hair flew around her head. It seemed to be picking up, she thought, as she stepped into the wet sand, and the remnants of the waves swirled around her feet before sinking into the sand. It felt as cold as the wind, she thought, as she took a few more steps into the water. Blythe's scales were sparkling. Magnified a number of times, she noticed, as she looked at her own reflection in the water, and continued to step further and further in. Eventually, the water came up past her belly-button. It was chilling her skin, her body. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, her muscles were tensed in an attempt to lock in any of the remaining heat the sun was providing. The heat that seemed to linger on her face, her cheeks, and nothing else. Blythe folded her arms over her chest, and ran her hands up and down the length of her arms as she took another step, and then let her legs crumble. She found herself underwater in an instant. Her hair floating around her wildly. Her body cold. Blythe kicked off the sandy ocean floor, and found herself propelled upwards. She was a little farther out than before, perhaps having been dragged out by the ocean currents, or her own movements. She could only touch the ocean floor if she stood on her tippy-toes. "Too far," she commented as she took pushed her arms backwards, urging herself towards the beach. A few motions, and it was enough. She could stand on the ground, and her face would be above the water. All of it. The water seemed to undulate, to rock her body back and forth. It reminded her of how one rocked a baby. It was strangely comforting; relaxing, and Blythe allowed herself to enjoy it for a few moments before she stepped closer to the shore. The water lapped up around her breasts, as her hair clung to her skin. The water had made it heavy. Straightened it out, and darkened its blonde tone. It seemed longer than when it was dry, for it dragged down her body, and ended maybe three inches below her shoulders. It seemed so strange to have it so long, even though she hadn't had time to cut it all winter, and she knew it had been longer than usual. It just took some getting used to, she supposed, as she leaned her head back and she wet her hair again, before straightening herself up again. She wondered how long she had spent in the water, and how long she should stay in it for before heading back to her cottage to take care of Keyta. |
by Serrif Von Chatlyn on March 6th, 2011, 1:51 am
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by Blythe on March 6th, 2011, 4:31 am
Blythe allowed the waves to rock her back and forth for a few more minutes, before she finally brought herself to the realization that she may have been out at sea for far longer a period of time than she originally intended. Sighing heavily, she decided that she would finally head for shore. Blythe dipped her head under the water, and allowed her body to sink to the ocean's sandy floor. When the wet sand had seeped into the spaces between her toes, Blythe leaned forward and pushed her legs upwards so that her body was running parallel to the ocean floor. Blythe extended her arms out before her, and then slowly pushed them back to her sides. Extended them, and then back to her sides. Her legs kicked steadily and silently as they propelled Blythe's body through the sea. Tiny streams of clear bubbles floated up to the top of the water, popping silently when they were forced to face the sun. When Blythe felt as though she had gone far enough, and had noticed that the sun could reach her from below the waves, Blythe stood up. The water lapped around her waist, as she looked out towards the shore. She was maybe twenty feet away from where someone was standing in the water. Someone she recognized, but knew couldn't be one of her sisters. There was no blonde hair. No scales shimmering in the sunlight. Not only that, but the body was distinctly male. Was that Serrif? Was he fishing again? Blythe wondered as her eyes grew wide and she allowed her knees to buckle and her body to crumble back into the water. She hoped she had made a rather silent splash, and that he hadn't noticed her. But with her luck, that seemed doubtful. What is he doing here? Did he see her? Blythe's brain shouted. He can't live here can he? it questioned as Blythe shook her head. Surely he couldn't. He had obviously just gotten here, and he more than likely wasn't staying with another Konti. He seemed to spend far too much time on the beach for that. But maybe he stayed at one of the local lodges? He should have more than enough money to spend in order to stay in one of them for a short time, she thought, as her brain came back to the first few things it had shouted. Has he seen you? He can't see you! You're naked! it screamed. The last word, however, was uttered in a hushed and hurried whisper, as though speaking such a thing would cause one to acquire some sort of disgusting disease. You must get out of this without him seeing you. Blythe wished her brain would stop screaming. It was getting annoying. She knew what the situation was, she knew, also, that there had to be a way out of it. What would Rose think if you had to explain that a man saw you nude? her brain added. Internally, Blythe rolled her eyes, as she straightened her legs and stood up a little. Blythe was checking just to be sure he was there, and that the man wasn't a figment of her imagination. It could happen after all? Right? Blythe thought as her eyes inched above the water and she caught sight of the fisherman again. He's still there! Blythe's brain hollered as she submerged herself under the water again. He could not see her, she thought, as she placed her hands on the ocean floor and began to walk herself to the left of where she had seen Serrif. Blythe extended her right hand forward, then touched down on the ground, before doing the same with her left hand and alternating. Perhaps he wouldn't notice her slip away, Blythe thought as she slowly moved along. Maybe she'd even go say "hello," once she had gotten her clothes back on, she thought. Blythe inched silently along the ocean floor for a few minutes, before she pushed up against the sand with her hands, and slowly floated to the surface. When her head had poked out of the water, droplets of water poured off the side of her face. The sun hit her eyes, and Blythe shut them abruptly. She was far enough away from Serrif now that he was merely a black dot a long ways down the shore. Believing that it was safe, Blythe walked towards the shore, seeming to drag the water behind her body, even though the waves were pushing her lightly towards the shore. When she had reached the dark sandy shore, Blythe wiggled her body a bit to allow the excess water to drip off. Her hair, however, was hopeless, it was dripping endless amounts of water, and the best Blythe could do to dry it was wring it out a bit, as she stepped further up the sand. The dry sand coated her pale feet, and soon, she couldn't truly make them out anymore past the sand. But that didn't bother her. What did was how her body shivered now that she was out of water. Blythe rubbed her hands furiously on the sides of her hips as she glanced up and down the beach in search of her dress. She finally spotted it, about ten feet to the north-west of her current location. Blythe walked over to it, picked it up, and gently shook off the sand before slipping it on. The dress clung to her skin, and did little to make her feel warm, if anything, it merely left her feeling slightly chilled. Shrugging, Blythe started to head back down the beach towards Serrif. She could still see the outline of his body farther down on the beach. It didn't appear as though he had moved at all since she had last seen him. Blythe walked slowly, and soon enough, she found herself within fifty feet of him. She called out to him. "Hello Ser, how are you doing today? Fishing again?" she asked as she continued walking and waited for him to notice her. OOCThe dress Blythe is wearing is white. Her hair is still wet, and some beads of water still dot her body. Thus, when wet, the dress will be largely see-through. Of course, Blythe is too oblivious of everything to notice this happening. Thus, the back of her dress, (where her water-logged blonde lockes rest), is soaked, and nearly see-through already. (A large splotch on her back, some portions of her butt), the same with the legs, and the lower half of her stomach. If her hair doesn't dry quickly, it will more than likely only get worse. |
by Serrif Von Chatlyn on March 6th, 2011, 9:43 pm
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by Blythe on March 7th, 2011, 1:00 am
"It is good to see you again as well, Blythe replied politely as she did her best not to stare at him. The man was covered in scars. Serrif had them all over his back, his chest, his legs, his arms, there was even a ring around his neck where it looked like someone had tried to choke him. The sight was ghastly, and made Blythe's stomach churn, as her skin began to take on a light green tint. Even so, Blythe found that she could not turn away from him. She couldn't cast her glance elsewhere, and soon enough, she found that her concentration had sucked her into a vision. Blythe was standing on a patch of green grass. The grass was browning about the edges, and was easily crushed beneath her feet. Several patches of grass were scattered around the ground, but they were only patches. They were surrounded by long expanses of light brown dirt and tiny grey stone that when walked upon, produced clouds of dirt. The grass seemed to be dying slowly but steadily, as though they had been stamped out under the numerous feet of the people within the camp. The sun was high in the sky, and caused tiny beads of sweat to appear on Blythe's brow, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "It's going to be a long day," she grumbled as the whip she was holding dragged along the ground as she lowered her hand and took a few steps forward. The camp she was in was lined with several 5x5 cages, which were filled with varying amounts of people. Women were all packed together, sometimes merely with other women, and sometimes with children as well. All the men were packed together. Some of them would be old, others young. There were separate cages for some of the older children and adolescents, although some of them were mixed in with the adults as well. But it didn't matter, all of them looked the same after awhile- worn, poorly clothed, covered in dirt and grime, and heavily scarred. All of them were either gripping the bars for dear life, extending their arms out from between the bars, fingers stretched outwards, as though reaching for something. Others, the ones in the middle, were pushing the ones in the front down, trying to get near the edges were it was easier to breath, where they wouldn't be so squished. Well, the ones that weren't too emaciated. The ones that still had some strength and energy left. The ones who still carried a voice; who could still cry; still scream. Blythe approached one of the rowdier cages to her left. Her whip dragged across the ground as she stepped confidently, yet lightly on her feet. When she reached the side of the cage, she shouted, "hey, you lot over there, shut the heck up, or we'll have to chop out your tongues!" Blythe was surprised to hear a rather deep, dark, distinctly masculine voice erupt from her mouth. It seemed so unlike her own, that she didn't know what to do. The voices however, didn't seem to stop. "Oi, Alexander see if you can help me turn these men into mice!" Blythe hollered as she took a step back, and raised her right arm. She then brought it back down on the ground, before lifting it again, and bringing it down on the metal bars and human fingers that lingered in the cage before her. The whip produced a loud snap that echoed through the clearing. The men were howling, and retracting their reddening fingers. Blythe snapped her leather whip back to her side, and then brought it down on the cage again. Some of the men were trying not to cry, others didn't bother to hold back the tears. Blythe was smiling wickedly as she brought the whip down on the cage once last time. That was when she noticed him: Serrif, standing in the front, left hand corner of the cage. He seemed to merely take it all, to silently accept it, as though this were normal behavior within the camp. People were pushing his head down, trying to get closer to the man with the whip. To grab him, and give them a piece of their mind. "Next time you had all best shut up," Blythe growled over her shoulder, when she had turned away and slunk off to another side of the camp. When she had finally returned to the present, Blythe shuddered, as several beads of sweat appeared on her brow. Her eyes felt both heavy, and strangely sticky. Serrif had clothed himself more fully during the course of her vision, and brought her a blanket. He was holding it out to her expectantly. "Thanks," Blythe said rather quietly, as she looked at the sand at her feet. She plucked the blanket from between Serrif's fingers, and wrapped it around herself, before she sat down in the sand. Blythe seemed rather distant. Her eyes looked as though she were in a trance, and there would be no calling her back. Blythe's mind was lost sometime in the past, and not even her own. It was Serrif's past that she had found herself caught up in. Her mind was buzzing with questions, she wanted so many answers, but if she tried looking into anything, he may wonder how she had known, and she wasn't in the mood to explain her goddess, or her gnosis mark. So Blythe bit her tongue, even though she was dying to ask: What on earth happened to you? And where have you been? What brought you here, and how did you get each of your scars? What sort of camp was it? Why were you kept in a cage? Were you some sort of slave? A captive gained in some sort of war or dispute? If so, which war? Were you a kept in a cage because you were some sort of threat, or had done something wrong to merit such treatment? Did you break the law? Did you escape the law? Are you seeking refuge on this Island? Or are you merely misunderstood and mistreated? How did you escape, and make it here in one piece? Were you ever set free? Did they let you come here? Or are they oblivious to the fact that you now rest on a beach with one of the Konti seers? Blythe smiled shyly, as she pulled the blanket more tightly around her. "It is a nice day, isn't it? The perfect day to go fishing. Did you catch anything Serrif? Or is this not a good place for it?" Blythe asked, hoping to distract herself from the things she had just seen; the things that haunted her, and caused her to appear so distant. "Or did you just start fishing when I interrupted you?" The sun beat down on Blythe, and it felt as though her face would melt. It only made her more anxious and uncomfortable. Blythe's heart pounded in her chest. "Please let him say something to draw my mind away," Blythe whispered so quietly, it would have been impossible for Serrif to hear her. "Anything at all. Please. Avalis..." Blythe's wish was carried away on the wind. OOCThe vision is of your past. If the details of your story don't fit, please tell me, and I can change it. But I figured I had an ok idea from what you had already mentioned. (My one mark from Avalis allows me to do this btw, if you wish to read up on it some). |
by Serrif Von Chatlyn on March 7th, 2011, 8:35 pm
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by Blythe on March 8th, 2011, 2:47 am
Blythe laughed rather light-heartedly. "A treasure indeed," Blythe commented as she pulled the blanket even more tightly around her. She was trying to stifle her shivers, thinking it merely her being cold; and thus, capable of being stopped. The Konti was wrong however, it wasn't the cold that made her shiver, it was the past. But she didn't want to let Serrif on to her little secret. Blythe was quiet for quite some time before she spoke again. "Of course I'm ok, why wouldn't I be?" she lied. She shifted uncomfortably in the sand, still silently praying to her goddess for Serrif to suddenly drop the subject. He didn't, Blythe sighed heavily as she grew increasingly uncomfortable. She could sense Serrif's eyes lingering on her skin, trying to pry her out of the shell she had concealed herself in. The mask she had hidden behind. But she didn't want to come out. She wanted to stay hidden; forever. Silently, Blythe got to her feet, her eyes were cast down as she let the blanket fall from her shoulders, and onto the sand. It pooled around her feet, a heap of dark woolen fiber. Her dress had dried off almost entirely while she had been sitting, only a little moisture clung to the bottom, and the area around her neck. "Thanks," Blythe said quietly, as she turned to walk away. She was running her hands through her hair nervously as she bit her bottom lip. The strands were stick-straight, slightly wet, and clumping together. They were scratchy because of the sea salt. Her hair felt no where near as good, or as comforting as she would like. Blythe took a few steps up the beach. The sand that seeped between her toes tickled. She was going to walk away from this, she told herself, and not look back. Perhaps she'd never see Serrif again, never explain the things that she had seen. But of course, fate had a different desire. The wind that whistled invisibly over the beach was picking up. Several grains of sand were flying wildly around Blythe and pummeling her legs. As she walked, she noticed her right shoulder strap fall to her elbow, exposing her right shoulder blade. Hastily, she pulled the strap back onto her shoulder. She had hardly gone ten paces, surely he had seen. It was too late... The answer was written on her skin. The single seer's lily. Blythe stopped dead in her tracks. The wind was starting to die down again. The elements got what they wanted, Blythe's brain whispered. "You know it's not a tattoo," Blythe called out to Serrif, despite her not having bothered to turn and face him. "Each one of the Konti are marked at birth by one of their two immortal mothers- Avalis and Rak'keli. The marks allow each of us certain gifts, and tend to signify which of the goddesses hold our prayers in their heart. It tends to show which one of them we grow to be most devoted to, but not always." Blythe paused, and looked over her shoulder for an instant, before turning away from Serrif again. "Do you know which goddess holds my heart in her hands Serrif? Which of the two sisters I belong to?" Blythe waited for an answer before she spoke again. "The lily is the symbol of the goddess, Avalis. She rules over visions and divination," Blythe explained, before pausing for a moment, "Avalis has granted me a great gift, with the gnosis she left on my shoulder-blade, I have the ability to see what has already come to pass. Those gifted by Avalis have visions, while those marked by Rak'keli, are healers." Blythe turned away and took the few steps that stood between her and Serrif. When she reached him, she stared into his eyes. Tears were forming in her ducts, and threatening to fall. "I had a vision. Something that has already come to pass. It was your past, although it may not have been too long ago. You don't seem much older now..." Blythe extended her right hand towards Serrif. Her fingers were kept closely together, and her palm and fingers were cupped. She gently ran the back of her hand over Serrif's cheek. "You were in a cage, with several other men. In the vision I was a man." The tears were starting to fall, and her vision was growing blurry around the edges. Blythe didn't bother to wipe the tears away. "The people in your cage were being too loud, so I walked over to your cage... and... and... whipped you. There was... no... remorse, no sorrow. Nothing. The man had no heart," Blythe sobbed as she dropped her hand, and simply allowed herself to cry for a few minutes. During those minutes, she remained silent. When Blythe had finally stopped the flow of tears, she wiped the ones that lingered around her puffy red eyes away with the back of her hand, before she spoke again. "What on earth happened to you? The camp... in the vision, what sort of camp was it? And why were you kept in a cage? And how is it that you now stand before me? Did you escape your captors? Or did they set you free?" The questions were simply tumbling out of Blythe's lips, and no matter how much she told herself she should try and slow down; calm down, she found that she couldn't. Blythe simply wanted all the answers. OOCI hate how much my pc cries. |
by Serrif Von Chatlyn on March 8th, 2011, 6:20 pm
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by Blythe on March 9th, 2011, 3:50 am
When all of Blythe's tears had fallen, she pushed lightly against Serrif''s shoulders as if to say that she didn't need him to hold her anymore. She took a half step back, and his arms fell from her side. Blythe sniffled a few more times before ceasing. The remnants of tears clung to her puffy red eyes, keeping the edges of her vision in a blur, as though she had drunk too deeply and too much. "What does it matter Serrif?" Blythe asked, as her lavender eyes locked on his. "What difference does it make whether or not you wish to share?" Blythe paused. "Why try to hide something that I have already seen? Why try to shield someone from something they already know? Something they can practically taste on their lips, something so close that they could almost discern what it is for themselves?" Blythe reached for Serrif's hands and grabbed them in each of hers. She pulled them towards her lightly, yet forcefully. "What difference does it make if you simply explain the things I saw? I already know. I already carry the burden you do on your shoulders, to a lesser degree yes, but we bear the weight together." Blythe dropped Serrif's hands and looked down at the sand beneath her feet. The scales atop her forehead were sparkling in the sunlight, as she spoke. "Having an explanation for a vision cannot hurt. The sights, the sounds, they hurt, but the rest of it can't. Can it? When we have already had the chance to brace ourselves. When we have already experienced the worst of it. Does it truly make sense to fear one's heart breaking if they simply understand what they have seen fully, as you do?" Blythe sat back down in the sand, and patted the ground next to her, before reaching for Serrif's right hand with her left, and gently tugging on it. She gave it a tiny squeeze, before whispering, "come. Sit." "Surely, the least you could do is mention his name. If you know it. Who was he Serrif? And how did he come to know you? How did you come to be in that camp?" Blythe asked before casting her eyes back down on the sand. "He mentioned an Alexander... and the land seemed so unlike here. So very distant. Surely you have traveled a long way to reach us... perhaps that is why you are so thin. So... rugged, yet weak looking." Blythe had never commented on Serrif's appearance before. But then again, she had never truly taken much notice of it. He was simply a man she had guided to the Opal Temple. Simply an outsider in her homeland, who until today, she could hardly begin to comprehend. Of course now, was only the beginning, the first wave of questioning, the first portion of time in which she failed to remove his memory from her mind. The first segment in their quest to get to know each other better. The segment which lay the foundation for all the rest, and explained the very essence of each of their being. It was a time in which she hoped to learn just how troubled Serrif was, even if it broke her, and she had to endure countless visions of his pained past. Of course, Blythe didn't want to force Serrif to share his story. He didn't have to share anything with her if he didn't want to. But, he had to understand that even if he didn't want Blythe knowing, Blythe may find out about Serrif's past through the use of her gnosis. The vision water on the Island. Perhaps she would have wanted to know, perhaps not, having wished to protect his privacy. Either way, there was always a chance that she would flip over a few old stones, and find worms and tiny skeletons creeping around underneath. "Just imagine yourself telling someone a bedtime story. Surely you have told a child a story before they drifted off to sleep?" Blythe asked. "Perhaps those stories were far nicer than what you are about to share, but the premise is the same, is it not?" Blythe paused for a moment. "Well, perhaps it is best to picture yourself sharing an old wife's tale. A story used to scare the pants off children, and get them to hush and go to sleep early so that their mothers can rest easy. Surely you know of these stories, perhaps you've even heard a few growing up." Blythe paused as she inched her body closer to Serrif as if to support him in his speech, make him feel more comfortable. "Now it's your turn to make your own wife's tale Serrif. Except this time, the story is true, and the story is your own." |
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