Welcome to Gaia! :: [Edel PRP] Phaedra and Malh'reth <Gehenna RP - week of Lust>

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Tags: edel  phaedra  malhreth  gehenna  week 
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The sound of crickets chirruped and buzzed in the background as the setting sun set the sky on fire, throwing long shadows away from everything. The world was in an uproar and yet the elements currently seemed eerily calm… at peace, balanced. While storms still raged and the earth rumbled beneath people’s feet, it was a calming background to the previous weeks where few could find the energy to slip from their bed… or coveted whatever they might see.

A lone figure sat on the edge of a forsaken town, the buildings nothing more then burned out husks in which weeds now poked up through the floors. It hadn’t been that long and already nature was reclaiming the area. He’d wandered out this way to think and escape the riot of emotions that descended upon him recently. It was strange… this desire that sat coiled in the middle of his chest, ready to spring. Malh’reth wasn’t normally so easily distracted and it bothered him. Something was wrong. The world was ending and all he could think about were pleasures of the flesh…

Around him, the world thrummed in its inverted colours, vibrant hues against ceaseless blackness. The mage had gotten used to his new way of seeing, odd as it was and while it was easy to get distracted, it seemed a truer way of seeing things. Granted, he could only see silhouettes of the duller ruins, bright spheres of lights where the insects flew, and the sunset was nothing more then a gradient of greys in the distance but all he had to do to see something was touch it to know of it.

Idly, the Aurion crossed one leg over the other and flipped open his book, running fingers of the surfaces of the pages as a blind man might. About half way through, he found what he was looking for – a doodle of his home. He’d come seeking answers only to find more questions and as frustrating as it was, he was at least asking more pointed, directed questions as time went on. Pulling magic from his surroundings, Malh’reth set the image into motion and watched through fingers as people moved about in an idealistic representation. When a childhood friend of his walked past and paused to pick up a spilled box of fruit, desire spiked through him and he quickly closed the book, annoyed. Every time he tried to relax, to distract himself for but a moment sensual thoughts would invade.

With an exasperated sigh, the mage tucked the book away, “Get a grip already. There’s more important things then that.” Lifting his gaze to the sky above, he watched the lines of power undulate and pulse, thrown into chaos by the turmoil at their origin. “Like straightening those out for one.”
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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The town was, if possible, even more ruined than it had been before, and that was depressing. Phaedra had no desire to scavenge where others had already looted; she should have been first, had her share at her leisure before the vultures descended. It was all backwards.

But she was fairly sure what would come next, and that thought brought a rising tide of excitement that nothing could truly diminish. So many plans, so many possibilities. If what she had predicted was correct...

And I must thank you, dear Lust, wherever you lay, for adding your own special brand of amusement to events. If only her sibling had corporeal form, then that would be something to truly remember! But, alas...

The goddess prowled, looking for something to play with. Her excitement over future possibilities was quite enough even without Lust's carnal infusion. Avita was well enough, but she wanted something new, now. It was so rare to find everyone inclined to think the way Phaedra usually did all the time.

And if she'd predicted correctly, sometime in the near future... the resemblance would be even greater. The goddess licked her lips in anticipation and padded forward, dark against the blazing sky.
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

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Tiring of his perch, Malh’reth rose and paced out a circle in an unconsciously measured step. There was so much to do yet and it was difficult pushing past these successive waves of influence. Turning to face the direction all the shadows stretched towards, he wondered if it would be enough and, in the end, what it would mean for him. It wasn’t melancholy that struck the mortal now but rather a sort of contemplative game of ‘what if’. What if he stopped fighting and gave in to the chaos that was consuming the land? What if he refused and instead pressed on alone?

And, most importantly, what lay ahead? What more would befall the world?

The rustle of fabric drew him from his thoughts as he rounded another portion of the circle, lavender eyes looking out over the ruins only to pause as a bright silhouette glowed not too far off. Fuzzy ears perked and he wondered why the figure was brighter then most – there was a halo of energy about her that was new to him. What was anyone doing out here? Perhaps it was a citizen of this place come back to pick through the remains once more? There was little left now, not of any value in any case.

Taking a few steps towards the stranger, he mounted the ruined steps of a wooden deck so he was a little higher up and waved a hand. Perhaps the company of another soul might help his odd moods and uncharacteristic urges.
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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Who was that? Phaedra's ears perked, betraying her interest; she frowned, inwardly. How dare they do such a thing, without her consent. Blasted reflexes. Someday, she would teach them, or cut them off for their insolence.

Still, there was someone there - my! and so exotic a someone, too! That also piqued the goddess' curiosity, and she turned towards the stranger. "So it seems the world hasn't emptied itself of all life yet, after all," she purred, catching her tail in one hand.
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

Bonus: You too can still help save the world with the power of cute plushies and red lotuses! Click plz? <3
Malh'reth blinked at the feminine voice and smiled, gaze rising to watch the other's face even though he could not make out details. Bowing slightly, he swept out a hand as his smile shifted into a weary grin, "It's tried, believe me. Some hang on tighter then others. What brings out into these wastes? A lady such as yourself shouldn't be off on her own... especially in light of recent events." Gentlemanly concern laced his voice as he spoke, taking a few more steps forward to offer his long-fingered hand in greeting.
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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"I appreciate your chivalry, good sir," Phaedra said, with a cheerful laugh. An old-fashioned one, this. A horn, and such splendid ears... wouldn't they be fun to tickle the edges with a fingertip? tonguetip? "But what of yourself? It seems to me that times are dangerous for everyone, not just women."
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

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"Do not worry about me, I can take care of myself." He waved off her concern when she didn't take his hand. She had such an interesting voice... lifting said hand, the Aurion held it out as a blind man might. He wondered if she was as interesting as she sounded and fought down the thoughts that rose as his imagination ran away with the idea. Coughing slightly to clear his throat, Malh'reth spoke softly, "Pardon me but your voice is truly intriguing... might I know the face that issues such sounds? My vision, you see, is not what it used to be..."
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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"Know the face? What do you mean?" Phaedra affected innocence, and took the moment to examine the man's own face. Sight... was he blind? His pupils seemed to move about quite normally. But intriguing, that was good, very good. Especially if he couldn't see her. "If you explain yourself, perhaps..." She caught his hand in one of hers, let him feel the light prickle-touch of her claws. Playful.
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

Bonus: You too can still help save the world with the power of cute plushies and red lotuses! Click plz? <3
He smiled as she touched him, curling long fingers about hers with a light laugh as her claws pricked at his skin and raised goosebumps on his forearm, "This works just as well..." As her features came into focus Malh'reth tilted his head to the side with a curious look, "Such a fine face..."

For a moment he pondered exploring more... to slide finger tips up her wrist and then her arm... even moved to do so before he caught himself and coughed, "I see through touch as well, miss. I know by feeling." Smiling, the mage lifted his gaze once more to catch hers, "I see auras and ambient energy but to know detail, I must touch. It wasn't always like that... but that first wave struck my vision askew." Letting go, he stepped a little away and sighed as her image brightened back into the glow of the silhouette. "You have a beautiful face and a matching aura...?" He trailed off in the hopes she might fill the space he left with her name.
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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"How interesting," she purred, her tail swaying slowly behind her as it escaped her grasp. He was feeling it too, she could tell. Pretty thing, so exotic and innocent. She wondered how much that horn would make on the black market. There were many stories about horns... aphrodisiacs, by rumor...

No such thing was needed now, with the very air so charged. "My name is Phaedra. And yours?"
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

Bonus: You too can still help save the world with the power of cute plushies and red lotuses! Click plz? <3
Aphrodisiacs, perhaps. But an Aurion's horn was the root of their power... their connection to the world and the medium through which they channeled their magic. It was a powerful magical catalyst, to the point where the Aurion, if caught alone, were killed for the prize. Their horns fetched handsome prices in any market and even though the slaughtering of the peaceful people was technically illegal, no ruler would actively punish those who dealt in them - mostly because an Aurion could still survive without the horn, just as a ghost of their previous selves.

However, caught in the moment as he was, the normally attentive Malh'reth didn't even consider the possibility he might be becoming a target. He echoed her name, tasting it and finding he rather like how it rolled off the tongue; sharp but mysterious at the same time. Curious. He blinked at the question, slow on the uptake but bowed slightly to cover his fumble, "Please, call me Malh'reth. I am a traveling entertainer. It is a pleasure to meet you, Phaedra."
 
     
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"Malh'reth." Phaedra tried his name on her tongue, as he had, and smiled, eyes slitted. "An entertainer, are you? Show me a pretty trick, tell me a story, whatever it is that you do." Entertaining in more ways than one, yes. She clapped her hands and sat down in front of him.
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

Bonus: You too can still help save the world with the power of cute plushies and red lotuses! Click plz? <3
He blinked. Entertain...? Now...? Fidgeting, he bobbed his head in an indecisive manner before stepping back as she sat down. "Entertain you? Ah... alright then. As it is, I do both," belatedly, he fished around in his sleeve and pulled out a book filled with sketches and drawings, flipping through it for a moment before laughing to himself and closing it. He'd come across the drawing of the person he'd met while in Eamnonn's territory and this was the perfect chance to capture another intriguing person.

"But, I believe I know what might appeal to you, m'lady." Turning to face her, he reached out a hand, "If you give me your hand I shall draw a portrait of you." Already his free hand was moving, swirling magical energy about it as he began to paint with it. The colours shimmered in varying hues of gold, strong and bold against the backdrop of the sunset. When her silhouette was half-blocked out, he paused and smiled at her. Your hand once more...?
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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"Ah, a wandering artist? No words for you, merely strokes and colors?" Charming, if not quite as good for her reputation; it would have been nice to leave him dazed, ready to wander forth and sing the praises of the dark goddess he had met at sunset. Such things were the start of legends, and legends were useful.

Still, a portrait... she was a connoisseur of art, naturally, as she was a connoisseur of everything. Perhaps it would be entertaining. Phaedra held out her hand and touched her fingertips to his, teasingly, before tickling his palm with one careful claw. "Show me." How would he paint with tainted sight, she wondered.
     
http://lume.ithiltari.com/rapture.jpg

Om nom nom art deco dystopias. I heart my wrench.

Bonus: You too can still help save the world with the power of cute plushies and red lotuses! Click plz? <3
"Yes... and no. I am a story teller but my talent lays in bringing the imagination into reality. You see, I illustrate my legends." When her claws tickled across his skin, goosebumps ran up his forearm and the image wavered slightly. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, the mage shook his head, "And you are most deserving of a tale or two. It wouldn't do you justice to get the pictures wrong, would it?"

With her touch, her features came into focus once more - her clothing, her face... it all came into focus so that she was a glowing, brilliant being sitting before him. It made him pause perhaps a moment too long before he turn turned back to the painting he'd started. That he could see perfectly well as it was drawn with the magic of the area and had not a corporeal form.

Slowly, carefully, he began to paint her... a miniature form for now, standing about two feet high as it floated in the air. While he worked, he committed the shape and form of her to memory, thinking it would be a sad thing indeed to lose sight of Phaedra. A short period of time later, he only her face left and Malh'reth painted with caressing strokes, tender almost like a lover's touch.

When at last he finished, he let go and drew down to put it before her, "Does the lady approve? I am not quite finished but if this appeals to you I shall show you the finished piece."
 
     
RIP Mother. I love you.


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