Your songs remind me of swimming
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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#1
MELITA
The honeybee girl toiled away the early morning hours with practice and precision, choosing the Oasis, a favorite spot for its cool, tranquil waters and reminders of another time, another life, nestled in its lengthy grass as she performed various routines and exercises. For periods at a time, she coiled herself up like a spring, supine amidst the green blades, before rising up in sit-ups, corresponding and adhering to Wessex’s mantras about strengthening her abs. Before long though, as always with her inborn, impulsive nature, she’d rise and become distracted by everything else: the birds, the sun, the insects, the wind billowing against her long locks. Fangorn nestled his way along the embankment ahead, distracted by potential hunting expeditions, layered and lacquered along the brush, only his snarls and growls evidence of his existence.

Willfully adhering to naught but her own diverting skills, she itched for her satchel nearby, dragging it over to where she sat, digging deep into a side pocket. Her hand grabbed hold of what she sought: the beautiful little anklet the will-o-wisps had granted her. She hadn’t understood why then, and she certainly couldn’t comprehend the reasons now, but she admired it in her palm, sea-shells clicking and clacking against her fingers, smooth, ornamental stones providing a blissful, tranquil tune. She was no Naiad, but for the moment, maybe she could pretend.

Melita slipped it on her right ankle, extending her foot out, ignoring the brush of fabric and her dress slinking down, pooling at her thighs, admiring it from afar. “What do you think?” She asked Fangorn in a coy, amused manner, waving her leg around mid-air as if it were something to be revered. She didn’t receive much in the way of response: the gourd growled and then continued making his way through the moss and stones.

Well – truthfully, she didn’t deserve the item. But in that instant, it was entertaining to linger in the pretenses of sprites. She rose from her chosen nest and sprung along the outskirts of the glade – movements and motions meant to be elegant, meant to be eloquence unmatched and unparalleled, another fey of the forest, wood sprite and sprig, whimsical, mercurial, a disastrous, unforetold demon tracing over beauty and majesty –

Then she tripped over a rock.

It plunged her downward, towards the water’s edge. She waited for the onslaught of the cool liquid to pour, souse, and rain down over her as she slipped and slid into its pool. Perhaps it’d be a welcome relief to her burning face, embarrassed and ashamed, as she tumbled her way into its abyss.

But then – as she reached its reflecting portal, she didn’t go into it. Instead, she lingered on top, as if lighter than air and ether, a jumble of limbs and entangled framework, balancing precariously over the water’s refrain. “What?” She whispered to no one but herself, struggling to unravel her shifted columns and bones, pushing herself to stand, waiting for the inevitable crash of the waves to envelop, to surround, to conspire and sink her to the bottom of the oasis. But when she finally uncurled, uncoiled, the youth remained – and she pressed further, walked farther, breathless in wonder, in awe, in bewilderment, lured and beguiled and enticed, tempted, as her bare feet brushed across currents and ripples, but didn’t become one of them.
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
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Grand Sorceress of the Arcane Academy

Age: 33 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 7 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#2
ZARIAH
I haven't been falling all this time - I've been flying
Unbeknownst to the honeybee girl, a pair of hazel eyes watched her with mild interest, hidden away in the shadows of the trees. Absentmindedly she tossed a glowstone in the air, catching it, and throwing it again, eyes trained on the girl as the action was conducted as if of her hand’s own accord. Really, Zariah wasn’t so much interested in the girl as she was the little pumpkin following her around. Such an odd little thing. Beatrix probably would like it very much.

But then the girl fell and surprisingly hovered just over the water, instead of plunging into the depths of the oasis. Her lips purse, brow raising as she considered the odd phenomenon. Was the girl a magic user and suspending herself that way? No, no…she looked far to befuddled to have made this occur on purpose. Shifting her weight so she straightened, she casually approached, revealing herself in the soft sunlight that made its way through the trees.

”My, it certainly isn’t every day that one sees a person relaxing atop the water.” she said, glancing between the girl and gourd, glowstone still being tossed absentmindedly in her hand.
Kheelan Raine
Guard / Music maker

Age: 250 | Height: 5' (152cm) | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
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#3
KHEELAN



Kheelan had been walking around the forest for a good while now, just enjoying the peace and tranquility of nature where he belonged. He enjoyed every smell of the flowers, the humming of the bees and the songs of birds. This was his element. This was where he felt free and at ease. It was as if the sorrows of the heart lifted every time he walked into the forest just by himself, just him and his thoughts. Well, as well as his flutes he almost always carried with him.

For the time being he had a pan flute with him as well as a flute of wood that he could pull apart when needed to make it smaller to carry with him. For the moment he was sitting in a tree just resting and actually being half asleep since he found the perfect resting place. That peace and calm the forest usually gave him fell short the moment he heard a woman's screams.

Kheelan turned around to see a woman with some kind of foot link stumble and fall towards the water only, the second she almost reached it she seemed to float just above the stream instead of falling into it. A moment later, another woman appeared while he watched.

He leaned in a bit more to see them from the tree he sat in, his thick maroon colored mane of soft wavy hair fell over his shoulder as he did, watching the two women, but mostly looking at the one that seemed to hover above the water instead of falling in which was the natural way to do things, hovering above it was however - not. He quirked an eyebrow at the sight of the spectacle, for the moment remaining mostly hidden in the tree's branches and leaves.



Swords can only kill the heart it aims at,
but music can mend all hearts that listen.
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#4
MELITA
Eternally impulsive, mercurial, and whimsical, the girl’s frenetic apprehension quickly dissipated, replaced with a sensation of utter joy. She couldn’t fathom it, couldn’t understand it, but with her toes in the water and the rest of her above the surface, she was overcome with radiant, untamed enthusiasm. Her laughter rang across the depths, the fathoms, with incredulous ease, fire and brimstone, embers and restless fervencies amidst the cool balm beneath her feet, and she ran across the reflecting pool, listening to the splashes, to the droplets cascading, and never sinking into its sanction. It was a haven, a sanctuary, like no other – at one point she dropped to the brim just so she could press her face into the oasis and stare down into its hold as if it were glass, giggling at the passing fish, at the slight look of bewilderment on their faces. She even thought to lay down across its expanse and ponder if it was all a dream, beatific and wonderful, and she was doomed to awaken with such precious, amazing ideals and fabrications, never again able to duplicate the amazing, unique intrigue buzzing around her mind. She rose from her watery world though, forsaken and abandoned to its hospitable, tranquil, obliging nature, lost in its refined wake, it the master, she the sprite –

A voice called over the majesty, and the serenity was broken.

Her entire form went rigid, unaware she’d been watched. Her eyes went immediately to the woman her glowing stone, a stranger, no one she recognized: but she could catch the snap and crawl of a predatory stance, and changed hers to accommodate the shift in tension. A reel of apprehension curled its way into her ribs, but she couldn’t fathom why, unless this individual was a threat – Fangorn must have sensed it too, on a hiss, on a growl, feral and bestial, a flickering memory of what he once was, what he used to be. It only took one moment of their bond before he slipped further into the grass, understanding, a survivor amidst his bludgeoned, massacred species, finding a hole and nestling himself within its contents. Presuming he was on the threshold of safety, Melita’s gilded gaze settled back upon the older lady, listening to her words, striving to understand any connotations layered, lacquered within. “I suppose not,” she proffered in return, not much else to say, having naught by way of explanation. The voice echoing from her throat was not quiet, was not hushed; for the honeybee girl could never be – bold and strong, enduring and courageous, chin raised, eager, ready. Her eyes never left the other; carnivore to carnivore, savage to savage.

And all the while, she had no idea there was another watching, waiting, lurking.
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
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Grand Sorceress of the Arcane Academy

Age: 33 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 7 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Grant Offline
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Posts: 1,101 | Total: 5,479
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#5
ZARIAH
I haven't been falling all this time - I've been flying
Zariah did not respond at once. She remained silent, considering the young, vibrant woman. Such wild fervor, such bold defiance - all signs of an untrained mind and soul. Such a pity that people allowed their young to grow so wildly, and turn to weeds in the face of order. In that way, potential was lost, thrown to the wayside. Some trimming could help, to give shape and form to the wildness, but it would never be as perfect as it could have been if cultivated from the start.

"How ever do you mange such a feat, girl? Are you Destined?" she asked at length, still tossing and catching the glowstone without a thought. Absentminded action did wonders to clear the mind. Slowly her eyes glanced towards the place the gourd had scurried off to hide, a smirk curving her lips. "You've a curious friend as well...a girl who walks on water and is friends with an animated pumpkin. Quite the start to a storybook, wouldn't you say?"
Kheelan Raine
Guard / Music maker

Age: 250 | Height: 5' (152cm) | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 0 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 6 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#6
KHEELAN
Kheenan kept watching the woman on top of the water, at the moment she almost looked like a little sprite playing happily in the rain, only - this woman was human sized, possibly outlander? He wasn't sure. She however did peek his interest with her giggling while watching the water from the air instead from laying on a rock.

He watched the other woman as well while shee too, seemed curious at the woman above the water, not to mention that guord that seemed to walk and move on its own? He tilted his head and watched it for a moment before his eyes yet again fell back to the water woman.

Kheenan moved silently by the branches until he got to a good spot to spread his dragonfly looking wings and easily made his way down the tree with a slight fluttering sound following his wings' movements until his feet gently touched the ground and they once again disappeared inside two slits in his robes to allow his wings to be hidden as well as more protected from harm.

He crouched down by a bush to look at the woman by the water again, finding her interesting she peaked his own curiosity. He had seen much, but never a human sized woman acting like a sprite? He wasn't sure what the other woman was, but she looked like she was taller than him, so neither of them were fae, that much he understood.
Swords can only kill the heart it aims at,
but music can mend all hearts that listen.
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#7
MELITA
“No,” she answered, not Destined (or Abandoned - though that title seemed far more fitting for someone of her essence) for anything at all, with her clenched fists and emboldened fervor, with her blistered, seething past, with the role of shield and sword. There was no magic along her soul, not like her mother’s healing endeavors, not like her sister’s whimsical hums and beatific croons – anything and everything she was had been snagged by her own hands: asking for training, for development, for growth. One of her brows arched in a seditious spread as the strange woman asked her next question – pondering if they were threats layered between one another, if there was something else lying underneath, if she should explain anything at all or leave it lying out in the open, curious and intriguing, but nothing revealed. “He’s my companion-“ But then that was it, all she could surmise, or intended to, because something else glimmered on the horizon.

A fluttering nuance and decibel flickered into her ears, her head whipped around to wings and dragonfly intervals, a man touching, then crouching along the ground that could’ve only been Fae, and some outstretched smile managed to find its way back to her mouth; as if she were secure, safe, guarded from glowstones and apprehensive notions, not left for naught out in the middle of the oasis. “Hello!” She called, welcoming a distraction, waving, but not straying from her spot – lingering on the water. The youth wasn’t certain if the Fae hadn’t wanted to be spotted – and if he’d craved to remain hidden, she was regretful and apologetic for it.
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
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Grand Sorceress of the Arcane Academy

Age: 33 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 7 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,101 | Total: 5,479
MP: 0
#8
ZARIAH
I haven't been falling all this time - I've been flying
”Curious.” she said lightly. If the girl was not Destined, it was indeed a miracle to see her prancing about on the water. Zariah’s eyes scanned the girl. Perhaps she had some sort of magic device that allowed her to hover upon the water as she did. Doll-like eyes caught the shimmer of the band around her ankle, her head tilting slightly as she considered it. Anklets weren’t the most common accessory in her mind – perhaps that was the means by which the girl waltzed on water?

Her gaze flicked back to where the companion pumpkin was. ”Your companion?” she said, beginning to stroll in the direction the funny little thing had gone, wishing to get a closer look at it. Was she scared for her safety? Surely not. What damage could a pumpkin do to her? But the hum of wings distracted her, and she looked over to where the Fae man landed, watching him in silence with a cool gaze. Unlike the redhead, she said nothing, simply waiting for him to speak or act.
Kheelan Raine
Guard / Music maker

Age: 250 | Height: 5' (152cm) | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 0 - Strg: 5 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 6 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#9
KHEELAN
She had a keen sense of hearing that woman, that much was clear. Not that Kheelan had hidden more than he wanted to be. He could just as easily climbed down the tree instead of using his wings, only, it was more comfortable and less troublesome to get down by flight than by playing ape.

He listened to the woman speak, mentioning a gourd as a... companion? That was new? His eyes fell towards where the gourd was last seen. At the same time he heard the woman calling out a greeting. His eyes fell on her once again and he slowly rose to his full 5', tall for being a fae but still much shorter than both women here.

At the moment he was more fascinated with the woman floating above the water to really heed much thought to the other one seemingly to follow this thing that moved on its own?

Kheelan stood straight backed, clothed in a light brown tunic and a green vest which reached him to his knees at the front and half to his ankles on the backside. It was made so his wings could move freely in the back even with clothes on. His lower arms wore dark brown leather bracers which only held onto his hand by a hole for his thumb and reached to his elbow, a tad longer than the common bracer. It told that he might be some kind of warrior even though he currently had nothing on him besides the leather on his lower arms. It was as simple as the fact he felt naked without them now days. Nothing besides that were armor from what was seen. He wore brown leather pants that met green boots reaching up to just below the knee. They resembled leaves in their design, hugging his well-formed calves with tying on the outer side of the ankle.

Even for being an elf, he was well shaped. He wasn't on the heavy side but he was well trained. The teal colored eyes glimmered in the sunlight which in turn made his eyes look like an exotic sea sparkling in the sun. His skin was light olive colored while his hair was a thick wavy mane of mahogany reaching just below his bottom. Currently it was done up with several braids on each side, giving the illusion of a mowhawk but without the actual haircut.

Kheelan was hesitant to speak at first but he was close enough to Greatwood to be able to get away safely, should anything happen. This clearing was only just on the other side of the border to Greatwood.

"How are you doing that? floating atop of water?"

He finally asked, keeping an eye at the other woman in the corner of his eye and the currently out of view gourd even though he now and again could hear it moving about on the clearing floor.




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Swords can only kill the heart it aims at,
but music can mend all hearts that listen.
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)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,913 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#10
MELITA
Fangorn could hear, could feel, the woman advancing towards his selected shelter. A rampant ferocity churned through him, growls and hisses, impending threats with fangs and pain. It was all he had – but Melita inched closer, across the water, barely a ripple, quiet, hushed, undisturbed, as the older female became distracted by the Fae exposing his presence. It was a chance, an opportunity, for her to grab ahold of her friend, not saying anything else, not answering the woman’s query, not proffering anything but silence, catching a sharp inhale of breath or two as danger lurked and sizzled on her senses. The vampire gourd immediately tumbled out of his hole, bounding towards her outstretched arms along the embankment, and by the time the inquiry had been nestled from the male Fae, the youth had scrambled back to her position in the middle of the oasis, companion safe in her hands.

But his question didn’t save her from further speculation, from divesting into the unknowns, into the parameters of the enigmas and quandaries: she had a hunch, a notion, dangling right from her ankle, shells and Naiad emblems and will-o-wisps gifting, granting, her passage along the surface of the pool, so that she might’ve danced like them, so that she might’ve dreamed like them, riveted and raptured and waltzed. She didn’t now – too wary, too close to treachery, too apprehensive, feeling claws and talons racing down her back, along her spine, intertwining with all the ominous contortions the Rift had ever taught her. “I don’t know,” she called back – not without theory or premonition, but not a lie either. Her features had lost their grin along the way, bare feet slowly shifting closer to the opposite bank, imploring for safety, for the darker shrouds of shadows, for memorized paths back to domiciles and settlements.
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
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Grand Sorceress of the Arcane Academy

Age: 33 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 7 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 27 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,101 | Total: 5,479
MP: 0
#11
ZARIAH
I haven't been falling all this time - I've been flying
Zariah glanced back towards the gourd as it leaped into the redhead's awaiting arms. Curious thing - all the more curious that it appeared like the vampiric pumpkins most smashed around this time of year. This girl walked on water and made friends with pests. Such a stranged girl she thought.

But the Fae man spoke, and again the girl noted she did not know how she traversed upon the water. Zariah was less concerned with that than the Fae man though. "It seems you've gone on quite the adventure. What brings you so far within our borders?" Zariah asked, watching the Fae with a steady gaze.


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