Site Wide Event Capturing the Sun
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#29
Deimos
Wild, vicious laughter sprung from between his ribs at Jigano’s mocking recourse, no harm no foul, before he and Jyoti moved on, her singsong, mischievous insight and incitement enough to provoke him into bothering another. His eyes swung back to survey Amalia and Remi’s progress, behind the cloak of garden wares; leaving that option solidified as a movement for later. On their next twist and turn, a serpentine motion where the little whale spun from nose to tail, along the air, in and out again with fanciful, whimsical designs, he scanned the crowd, attempting to choose their next victim. Wessex would, could, smell them and see them coming from a mile away, so he didn’t bother with irritating or annoying her; but then he caught crimson hair nearby, indicating Lily’s presence.

The smallest of smirks, of snickers, embedded itself along the depths of his mouth, forming a roguish grin. Jyoti all but clamored for the impending upheaval, and he gestured, appealed, requested her entity, her assistance, for the upcoming cycle.

They danced again, though her fins were no longer entangled in his grasp, free and riding along the air, while he calculated options in his sedition. He indicated and pointed out the individual in question, and the little starwhale responded in clear enthusiasm, whisking and winding her stardust path towards the singer, winding around and around in between vermilion, scarlet locks, crooning, cajoling, before Deimos appeared and went to one of the woman’s hands. “Lily,” he grinned, maneuvering her away on the force of a spin. “How are you?”
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime


Age: 3 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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#30
Safrin

"What is this?"

Safrin's voice is cool and crisp, dynamic and projected loud as if she were on a stage. As if this was a play they had all come to witness, and Safrin its lead actress. And in a way, that was precisely what it was.

"Where has my sun gone? It is one of my favourite stars, and oh!" She continued theatrically, appearing among the trees larger than life. The boughs and crowns of the forest swayed away from the goddess as she stood just as tall as they were, a smile on her ever-radiant features. "Your baskets! Do I detect traces of my sun? Have you been hiding it away from me? And your songs! Your rhymes and poems and gifts, all trickery! Why my darling ones, how could you!" She continued, a hand to her forehead as she meditated on the trickier of all those around her.

Spinning about, her skirts sending a starwave of light scattering around her, she turned as if to meet every single eye in the crowd, her body growing smaller and smaller until she was vaguely human-sized once again. Her eyes sparkled with laughter, her perfectly painted lips an adoring grin.

"No more! I have caught on to your ways and my eyes shall be blinded no more. Let there be light!"

And so it was that the first rays of the morning peeped from behind the towering trees, the sky becoming a warm and milky aubergine.

"But do not go away empty handed my loves. Share with your brothers and sisters the trinkets you have brought. Fill your baskets, but leave the sun to me."
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith
General of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 47 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 61 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 61 - Luck: 58 - Int: 2
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
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#31
WESSEX
out of the night that covers me
Wessex almost blanches at Melita’s exuberance but manages to control her face and stay in place. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to see her mentee, it’s just that their happiness levels are greatly mismatched, and that makes the Ascended woman feel terribly at odds with the little firebrand.

“Hello, Melita,” she responds with a forced, but not unkind smile, much in the way a politician might endure an event they had to attend. When the girl draws closer, she can see that her basket is already full, and thus isn’t expecting the next part. Her expression twists into genuine surprise. “Really?”

When presented with the small tokens of affection, Wessex scoops them out of the basket and then holds them up to the manufactured light, peering at the red stones and makeshift weapons with both feigned and real appreciation. “Thank you,” she says after a moment, depositing them into a small leather pouch with surprising gentleness. “Ah… I don’t think this will fit in your basket…” she says with a laugh, lifting a haunch of venison and letting it swing from its rope in front of her. “But it’s for you. Protein. To build muscles.”

In her own way, it is the most caring thing Wessex could have done.

Even the appearance of Safrin - and the sun - can't stem the warm feeling of affection that continues to grow for the Outlander girl.
black as the pit from pole to pole
i thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul
Melita Najya
the Honeybee


Age: 26 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 10 - Strg: 57 - Dext: 58 - Endr: 58 - Luck: 57 - Int: 1
FANGORN - Mythical - Vampire Gourd SILA - Mythical - Dragon (Fire Breath)
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#32
MELITA
It was a little saddening to see Wessex was befuddled and surprised at being granted a gift: something Melita realized she should’ve thought of sooner, well before any festivals. The woman had proffered her training – and what had the honeybee proffered in return? She hemmed and hawed at her own rudeness, but still smiled, vivid and wild, as Wessex scooped them away, accepted them for what they were, little trinkets, bobbled, and lichen. “Really.” The youth laughed, a small puff of air, a bow of her head. “You’re very welcome.”

Then came another surprise: a gift for her, eyes widening upon the massive haunch of venison, watching it swing back and forth on its rope. “Ah!” She giggled again, but extended her arms, ready to accept the meat with little hesitation, hoping she can bear the weight (and if not, then more training was ripe for the future). “Thank you!” Protein. Muscles. It also spoke of a belief in her, that Wessex thought she’d be able to continue conquering and devising, rising to the top, potential and prowess brewing, brooding, beneath her light, slight figure. It was also far more beneficial than her own gift of baubles and plant-life; suddenly wishing she could've come up with something greater, something grander. Her head tilted, gazing upon the taller warrior with a rapt fascination, while Fangorn sniffed at the deer remains, likely hoping to snatch himself a piece. “Are you enjoying the festival?” Her voice was still an ebullient decibel, silly and forthright, the brightest grin ignited across her face.
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Lily Balfour
Entertainer

Age: 34 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: N/A - Strg: 16 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#33
Lily
sing me a song of a lass that is gone
It doesn’t take long before Lily notices the floating whale and the dancing giant. I mean, how can you miss them? The sight brings a sparkle to her eyes and a smile to her face. She claps her hands in joy, for the sight of the starwhale is a true novelty - a wonderful miracle to behold. Drawn in by Jyoti’s song, Lily holds out those very same hands to touch or wave at the calf, recognizing a fellow singer when she sees one.

It is Deimos, however, who catches her, twirling her away in a gentlemanly embrace. Ignoring his question for a moment, she twists to keep Jyoti in her sight, asking with awe in her voice, “Who’s that?!” There’s room for him to answer, a pause before she looks back to the bearded man in front of her. It’s been too long since she’s seen her tight-lipped friend. Much has happened. Where to begin? “I’m just fine, Deimos, thank you. How are you?”
merry of soul, she sailed on a day
over the sea to Skye


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