Watercolor Wonder


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Posting Goddess
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Post Thu Mar 22, 2018 9:18 pm

Re: Watercolor Wonder

Reverie's cheeks began to heat a bit at her mental wandering, until she decided it would simply have to be brushed off. There was nothing for it. Shaking it off as she went Reverie focused her mind on the question at hand. My bonded was quite nice when I spent time with her. I believe it was just... the tip of the iceberg, so they say. It was a rather short time with her. I then got a quick tour of some of her lands, a rather overwhelming welcome from the clan. It was after that I came searching the Fields for... What exactly had she come to find? Somehow she still felt like she was searching. Anyway. She promised to meet me again soon, and we shall see. Eyes lingered on Lace's for a moment, hoping her thanks for the help would be received in a look. Her own Bonded sounded nice.

How was it she felt she were being cooked on a spit when the Ghost fixed her so in his gaze? She met it with a level one of her own, refusing to check and see if her skin actually bubbled. In all likelihood it did on that flank of hers anyway. Thus far she's put no such pressures on me. Others have said she can mind touch, but I have not heard her yet. Aside from Serians, I have been given so much space from my Bonded it makes me wonder if I shouldn't seek her out. Perhaps that was the trick of it. Something about curiosity and a feline.

He spoke of abdnormalities, made her wonder. Suits him. Did that mean he liked how they two fit? That she was a good match? Both? Things to ponder. And how do you find her other Bondeds, this shifter of yourn?

Still the newcomer was a puzzle. He seemed to prefer it that way, though he seemed to go out of his way to answer more plainly this time. She felt a burden to him, but it was appreciated. Is that your preference or hers? Less protective? What situations had a Bonded been protective in? What dangers had they faced?
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Leader
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Post Mon Mar 26, 2018 1:22 pm

Re: Watercolor Wonder

Her head lowered slightly as she listened, the conversation picking up and the tension dying down. Asking about their new bonded seemed to be the correct move. The air seemed less dense, at least to Lace anyway. At one point she even closed her eyes, letting the voices be all she focused on in the moment. The two males offered their answers once more, in exchange for Reverie's. Her bonded was nice, though she hadn't spent much time with her just yet. The clan was large and welcoming, so that was appreciated. Lace grinned, glad that everyone had been welcomed for the most part.

There wasn't much else to say at the moment. Lace agreed internally with Reverie's words, that perhaps some more time needed to be spent with her own bonded. Despite being in the early stages of their relationship, Lace felt she and her bonded understood each other. Her human with pointy ears was not overbearing or smothering, and quite liked her solitude just as much as Lace did. Sure, there was still time, but Lace was quite content with the bond she was presented with. Her mind drifted a little, but she took a look around at the group and pondered their answers. What was next? Where would the conversation lead them?


(OOC: I sincerely apologize for the lack of length and inspiration in this post. Very busy week and lots going on. Kind of blocked at this point as far as where to go next? ^^;)
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Posting Elemental
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Post Wed Mar 28, 2018 9:16 am

Re: Watercolor Wonder

CRACKLE

Vibrant green eyes, a spirit that wouldn't break, ice and heat and swirling restless pride. Named him, took a long look as he walked up and announced Here and not-here. He looks like a Ghost.

It caught, and everyone followed her lead, everyone spoke of the Ghost that had come; just as they eventually spoke of the Reaper who followed him. It was almost cliché, the coincidence of it happening that way.

Beside the little one, the tiny thing with fierce eyes, there was the Lady, radiating grace and power; Rogue. Not-quite standing over the little one, not really hovering, but nearby, always nearby. Velvet night skies sprinkled with stars, kindness in her eyes, but not tenderness; nothing close to vulnerability. Step carefully, round this one.

The Warrior, Death himself, flaring angry when he wasn't shown the same instant deference. Put in his place, shown that there had been restraint, that he is not made to correct, to battle; ferocity of pride, of walking the line to true darkness in his soul. Danger there, if he turned. He was the weapon that kept the others from the worst harms. Wary of the snake who turns on his handler.

The spiked one, the Hermit, rarely seen, hardly spoken to, strong and sure and silent, so silent. Nothing social to him; near the little green-eyes, watching coldly, standing so still, so very still. No connection to others, but he would be a weapon for them, too. Harshness in his lines. Not quite soulless; but almost, perhaps once he had almost retreated to such extent. It marked him still, kept him apart; not in cruelty, as Death, but in a Hermit's solitude. Watch for him; no words to grant save those that would warn another away, words that would be the first battle before the blood shed tears to the ground.

A little Greenhorn, grown-but-not, or perhaps he simply seemed that way with the little bee-leaf wings. Should not fly with such wings, but neither should bees; he fluttered, this one, distracted, playing with plants, with all of nature. Here, then there, no tension to him, nothing that would denote the thirst for violence seen in those others, the ones to step lightly around. Elemental, yes, so obvious, and curious, curious, curious; but a glance, now and then, to check, to see if others were alright. Protective. Perhaps some care would be required, after all.


Thoughts crashed, climbed, swirled in a burning haze, and in the midst a small realization, a tiny Ah, snatched away too quickly to recognize; some difference, something noticed, no way to realize what it was until later. Those first few impressions, so innocently asked after - And how do you find her other Bondeds? - so many to see, so many to meet, so few would stand to him.

Tiny couple, pony sized, one a Glimmering queen in bearing, the male at her side with a sturdiness beneath his ready smile. A meeting of the eyes, a slight nod of acceptance, and such unique eyes; faceted as gems, blue-purple as the gems that flaked her hide. Icey-blue gaze of the one next to her, ridiculous as Horsefeathers - delicate looking wings, almost ephemeral, but ones he flexed with the surety of strength within them. Touch of magic, perhaps, to support those wings to carry him, or maybe just a unique feathering; stronger stems, fluff layered to blanket the wind, thicker than the flat layout of larger feathers. Maybe both, the way he moved, the way he glanced at this Ghost and away again, stretching one of those wings to touch his mare, smiling as she turned that strange gaze towards him.

No threats there, nor in the other elemental, sparks of lightning dancing across his scales; playing over the green flesh like a cub to its mother. A glance, no more, and he was moving away, giving ground; acknowledging a different sort of strength in the one seen as Ghost, yet unafraid. Almost dismissive.

A silver stallion, more a glare than a glance, not quite a challenge; almost as if his coming had been some kind of affront. Perhaps a bit quick to anger, that one, but with a handle on it somehow.

The white fellow that followed him around - that was the difference. Everyone looked at him as he passed, everyone smiled for him, and this pink-winged fellow stepped right up to the Ghost among them; though he wouldn't lift his gaze, wouldn't stand quite so tall. No challenge to him, no anger, no danger, only a welcome, gentle and pliable. Accepting. This one would rely on the others, those with the quiet strength that didn't care to resist his will.

Quiet blue sea-mare, too delicate, less comfortable in the role of being cared for than the little stallion; but still, she checked on him just as all the others had. Some small strength to her, at least. Glanced to him, shifted, shy, uncertain; would it be ok to say hi? Help her then, step to her, greet her; watch her flinch. Why? Delicate, so delicate, but still not as much as that other one; would need reassurances. Safe from him; she would see in time, no violence offered, no harm intended, but he could kill for her easily, should she flinch from another.

Others who were gentle, who stepped carefully; not many that would flinch from him, but a few. A striped forest stallion, something that was almost a shudder; adaptable, changing the levels of his reaction in accordance with who he spoke to. Would shift for his company as well, be overwhelmed, overpowered. The strongest ones, the greater wills, they handled him with gentle care, kept their strength in check, and still he paled next to them, serving only to highlight their natures.

A green mare, though she wouldn't flinch. She glanced almost over him, so quickly did she look away; no conflicts there, and a true desire to enjoy, to play, to be happy. Hard-won, her joy had been, for her to seek it so eagerly. He tested, moved closer, watched her shift out of his way; not upset, not defiant. Deferring to him, seeking out laughter; but tension to her, when the softer ones looked uncertain. A TigerLily, fierce and delicate.

So many delicate creatures to watch for, so many that might be stepped on by accident. Meant to be watched, guarded, protected; never overrun. Uncertainty in them, the beginnings of learning to trust him in this, the knowledge that without that special standing they could not stand in company with him.

He was a threat to them by his very existence, for he was not someone they could run with without harm. Just as others would have been a threat, would have been hard to meet as outsiders; the Hermit would certainly have that little sea Siren flinching every other minute, if they had met any other way. It was hard not to feel you were somehow doing something wrong around that one, as if he simply didn't approve of you.

CRACKLE


The earth had taken what it could, had begun to melt and shift beneath his hooves, the excess leaking out around him as his thought raced, impossible to put to words, impossible to be given a phrase. Couldn't go outwards, not with the others; couldn't go down without creating magma. Couldn't let the sparks that played over his hooves spread, so he pushed up-up-up, a mane and tail appearing in shifting blue plasma and spiraling upwards as if caught in a gale.

The ones in the middle, the ones that looked at him where the last few couldn't, yet they didn't stand with such firm confidence as others. A cloud-gray stallion, a blue-black one as well, glancing to him and offering a small smile - not quite uncertain - before going to the striped green one, the one that shuddered under the weight of his gaze. Not dismissive, not aggressive, not delicate; accepting, gentle, kind. Kindness, yes, in these ones.

Sparkling purple-blue fellow, kind and gentle, nudging a slightly antsy golden mare to make her smile, make her gentle herself. She stood next to him, almost hovering, just shy of protective; he was important to her, somehow. She held a tension of expectation, but he soothed that, the Shining One that didn't quite avoid looking at him. She looked, her tail ring flashing in sparks, and stepped away easily as he past her, as he stood before the Bonded; the bright mare had made certain that the glittery stallion had shifted with her, gently nudging him aside before she moved herself.

The bonded then, in the middle of it all; a little white cat, fluffy and sleek at the same time. Long hair that dripped from her, rather than surrounding her in poof. Strange eyes that saw into him more than he would have thought. Ears too long, perhaps, whiskers glittering like true silver, the tail a bit too similar to a fox's point, and yet still so very much a cat's tail as it twitched, twitched, twitched. No normal cat, clearly; anomalies in the shape. A faint glitter to the fur. A muzzle that was almost delicately pointed, hiding the sharp teeth as the extra fluff about her feet hid the sharp claws that played with the earth as she watched him, watched him.

Jewel-bright green eyes watching him beside the cat, the little one wanting to see what he would do, daring a reaction. Promising that if it took him time to learn their rules, she would help teach him; all in her eyes, a look that said she was not only claimed by this creature but had claimed her in return. Little cat that watched his soul, little filly that watched his heart, watched for intent.

Jewel bright eyes from both, watching.


They are - varied, he managed, and felt his mane extend down his back, flickering up-up-up as he tried to make sense of the collision of images, memories, impressions. Sense? There was no sense in it, no reason to all the order amidst everyone. The stronger watched out for the weak, but it was strange to have such unity in a bondherd, strange to adhere to cultures not their own.

Particular to her kind, some had said, but the pale one, the fellow with the pink wings, he had said that perhaps not; perhaps it was particular only to their bonded, rather than their kind. If any would know it would be that one, as he had gone and greeted the influx into this realm - and even new himself, Plasma had felt the stirring in the air, the ground, the water. Of course the one who Loved would try his best to make everyone welcome.

Some are gentle, need watching after, he said, no longer certain what it was exactly that he would say as he spoke, they break too easily. Others kill.

He understood them, understood the comfort with such things; he'd seen death, knew the dangers of his element. He could kill without blinking, if he needed to. It was the concept of protection that twisted him up. Strange thing, to look after someone.

I kill with them, he said, and smiled. It wasn't a wholly sane smile. That, perhaps, was the point of protection; another reason to kill.
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Elder
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Post Wed Mar 28, 2018 7:17 pm

Re: Watercolor Wonder

Easing now, some pressure. Easier, at least. Again, the why was beyond him, but there were threads that could be drawn. Maybe the warmth flowing from each mare as they thought of their Bonds—gave Reverie an edge to meet the Ghost’s gaze, more than he’d dare, gave Lace a quiet reprieve. If they could see the Link deep as he could, would they see the something of the same? He didn’t know what lay between Sive and him. The Link swallowed everything.

Reverie’s question brushed by, almost as if she had reached deep, found the line of his thinking. I’ve been told she becomes what her bonds need of her, so the preference must be mine, I suppose. Some crawl along his neck, suddenly, like the rise before the storm. It’s—

The Elemental flared—in here, out there. A torrent of images struck like lightning, and all he could do to keep his self in place. He closed his eyes. Let it rush. All these faces, not his to know—a herd of many, structured, bound, rules in the bonding and the being and so, so hard the
balance. He closed his eyes, again, somewhere within. That ether-bound place before words and body. Half-worked—the faces blurred. Little he owed the Ghost, perhaps, but he’d not want his Bond laid out to some broken being.

Wait it out. A faint gleam—like a jewel through water—and the drowning passed. Well, as much as it could.

He drew a breath, surprised to feel it shudder in his throat, and opened his eyes. The Elemental had his mane and tail now, gusting high and harsh away from the melting ground. He was too far to read the face that moved with his words, but he could imagine, from the shiver, the pulse echoing through in the wake. Something that Confetti might say. Something he had.

“Well, little ether, now you’re here. Wonder how much can you hurt, in that head of yours? Oh, but that’s not my business—not till you’ve done what you came for, I know. I can wait.”

So, the Elemental also had the killing kind among his Bonded. Strange, how they had that in common. Had him wondering, vaguely, what else there might be. Were you called for that purpose, then?
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Posting Goddess
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Post Fri Mar 30, 2018 1:16 pm

Re: Watercolor Wonder

Reverie regarded their group with a rather amused eye. Interesting little gathering they’d formed. She wondered how they would part, whether it would carry any fondness forward, any knew knowledge from the questions discussed.

Lace had certainly gotten quiet. She sidestepped a few paces and gently bumped sides with the other mare. No spoken or even mind communication was needed for a silent friendly look. You ok there?

The buzz and crackle from the Ghost was intense, and she could not but wonder if she should open her thoughts to his and catch what was going on... if he were even sharing.

The sinister look crossing his features made her think perhaps not. You kill with them, eh? Well. Do you watch after those that need it as well then?

She tilted her head to observe the ghostly Plasma again, curious about his answer to her question and the red stallion’s.
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Post Fri Mar 30, 2018 3:59 pm

Re: Watercolor Wonder

Her mind was busy, contemplating, musing, planning. Her ears twitched as they were hearing, but she was not listening. An intense emotion, no... it wasn't emotion, just raw energy, seeped in from somewhere. As if there was a new presence among them, pressuring them to open their minds and listen. Lace was rather skilled at blocking out voices and thoughts she so chose to, but this pressure was difficult to ignore. For just a moment of reprieve, she opened her mind. A rush of images crashed over her like an ocean wave, Serians and beings of various shapes, sizes, and abilities. Plasma's words interrupted the images, revealing who the powerful pressure had come from. There were so many of them!

Oof! A sudden shift in her balance brought her back to reality. Her back leg had to step to the side to avoid losing her footing, and using the inertia she turned to see Reverie. The mare had bumped her, on purpose. Amusement flashed over Lace's face before she quickly recovered. Clearing her throat, she responded with a quick, Yep. I'm good. The playful gesture helped bring Lace back to reality, and back to her present company. After a quick smile to Reverie, she glanced back over at Plasma. His elemental body was taking its toll on the earth beneath him, the ground melting away where he stood. She wondered the same as Reverie, wondered how dangerous Plasma just might be, where he stood and his morals.

There were Serian's that killed, huh? Lace had little to no knowledge of these types and their purposes. She was curious to learn more, but just as equally opposed to the idea. Were they hunters? Mercenaries? She didn't want to know. Would she have a choice in the matter? Perhaps not. Not if she continued to converse with them. Her expression grew more serious the more she thought about it. The thoughts troubled her. Her lips parted to ask something, but she chose to remain silent and allow Plasma his chance to explain. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought. Maybe it was. Either way, she would wait and not be hasty to judge. That's what started this all in the first place.
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