Welcome to Gaia! ::

The pink disappeared from Sylenne's face when she noticed the two creatures were gone. As her head tilted slightly to one side, the rose color took her eyes instead. Pushing back her continously falling soaked bangs and grinned. Suddenly her eyes squeezed shut, and she held her breath as if about to leap into a pool of water. Instead, a small orange glow formed over her heart and burst with just a sigh of wind. Her clothes and hair fluttered backwards for a few seconds, and when she let her breath out again not a drop of water was left.

"My old master taught me that," she said with a giggle. "No, there's nothing wrong with being human. And there's nothing wrong with not knowing your species, either." Sylenne padded lightly towards the first bench and sat, curling her legs up beneath her. As she patted the seat beside her, the pink fell into lavender and settled for a midnight blue. She frowned a bit and rubbed her eyes.

"Mmph, whenever I get tired I just can't control 'em," she explained with a frown. "Anyway, I know you aren't an Animus like me. But I can feel your soul, and I can tell it's special." The girl paused to think for a moment, and then offered her hand. Hovering above her palm was another amber sphere.

Sylenne blinked, head tilted lightly to one side. He was weird, but she had met weirder. To the point of being dangerous, really. She laughed softly and looked at her hands, crushing the ignored offer against her leg.

"I think I would have to stab the talking dinosaurs first," she replied thoughtfully. Her hands were clasped together as she thought for a moment. The girl's head tilted forward, letting her hair fall to hide her face. She bit the corner of her lip and slid her eyes closed.

Light brown turned slowly to black as if ink was spilling from the roots down. Her hair then ruffled as if touched by the faintest breeze; the strands shivered again, and as it grew down towards her knees the breath of wind seemed to ruffle it into thick waves. Her skin paled a few shades, and at each of her temples two black points began to extend. The onyx horns grew several inches longer, curling ever so slightly.

Sylenne looked up once more. Her face had changed as well; the girl's features had sharpened, thinning her cheeks so that they looked hollow. Her lips had been stained blood red, and slightly parted you could see newly grown fangs. The pupils of her fire-colored eyes had changed to thin, diamond shards. The whites had been swallowed up by the burning reds and golds.

"Would this race have concerned you?" the woman asked in a deeper, rougher voice than before.

The demoness watched his minor fit with a cold sort of apathy that seemed a natural look for the species. Sylenne didn't even have to concentrate on that part; behind the pale mask she watched his eyes with interest, but not fear. Even if he decided to kill her, she may have been too old to fear dying.

Though when he finally spoke, she gave a slow sigh. While her outer appearance didn't even blink, the face behind it was surpised she had been holding her breath. The creature swallowed and grinned. Glistening fangs shone from an icy yet seductive smile she probably couldn't pull off in her usual form.

"Time Lord, huh?" Sylenne repeated in her own voice, the contrast making the demon body seem to be no more than a puppet. Even as she spoke her pupils shimmered and melted back to normal. Each gold and red hue of the surrounding fire began bleeding together, rearranging until it faded into order like a sunset. As the horns shuddered and began shrinking with the faintest of creaking, her hair straightened and bleached back to its original shade. The last thing to change back was her face, though now her features seemed to have matured ever so slightly.

"I suppose a Time Lord would have more to fear from memories than the rest of us," Sylenne said, leaning her head back against the seat as she yawned. "But if we're dust we're dust, so in the end we're all wiped away!"

Tac's quizzical look was met with a cool expression of well-practiced apathy. Sylenne shifted slowly, movement barely visible, and gracefully slid her legs to the floor before they fell asleep. This man was strangely smart and ignorant all at once; obviously he didn't realize that by abstractedly and randomly throwing Time Lord into the list he had hinted at something surely to do with himself.

Though her heart beat a little harder, as the odd voices began spilling through the mask did not flinch. But if he had been paying attention, he might have noticed every muscle in her body tensing from the toes up. Her hair stirred softly about her face, and outside a new lash of wind sprayed raindrops through the broken windows, threatening to take out the candles.

While emotion had yet to mark the girl's face, something about her had still changed. Sylenne's eyes turned the color of bruised clouds, roiling and flashing like lightning. Likewise, electricity crawled and tingled across her skin. With another flash in her eyes, lightning crashed outside dangerously close to the rattling stained glass shards.

But much like the sedating perfume of a rare flower, the calmer of the voices issued its apology. Something told her that she had met the owner of the voice already, and the soothing quality dampened the fear in her chest. The storms in her eyes and the sky let up a bit, and she realized that her hair had gained a crimson streak just at her temple.

Polite yet still aloof, she turned to face him as the seemingly normal creature spun his tale beside her. The rain slowed now to a soft, steady patter, and a quiet sigh brushed past her lips. Before his eyes could open Sylenne turned sideways to slip her arms around him, one arm over his shoulder and the other squeezing under his arm. She leaned her head against his shoulder and hugged him tighter as a close friend might do. He may have noticed the mild current still crawling through her body trying to spread unconsciously to his own, though either way she would not.

"Don't remember her to make yourself sad," Sylenne said softly. "If you smile when you think of her, then your memory might smile too, you know?"

Sylenne did not reply. She hugged him tighter until the current faded from her body. While there were a great many things she could tell him, she knew none of it would provide the comfort he sought. The girl sighed again, willing away the streak in her hair. She pulled away from him, hand lingering gently under his chin. Sylenne's expression showed little more than fatigue.

"Sleep," she said quietly, firmly. "In the morning I will take you somewhere, if you are willing."

The woman stood, turning to face the row of candles. She thought for a minute as the flickering war of lights and shadows danced over her face. Her eyes had turned the deepest blue, so dark they were almost black. It was possible Tacitus was a danger to her; or at least parts of him were. But she had invited him, and she would stand by that. But there was nothing wrong with protecting yourself just in case.

Not really caring how it must look, Sylenne reached back to untie the lower part of her shirt. Her eyes slid closed and her arms folded over her chest. An odd, quiet cracking sound could be heard just beneath the rain. The flesh across her shouders trembled like water. The shoulder blades shifted with a louder crack, and a hulk of flesh began growing upon her back. It grew larger and larger, pulling away from her back with a sticky sort of sucking noise. The appendages turned a bright, shimmering red, extending into smooth wings that, although folded, were just a few inches taller than her body. Two cracked horns stood at the peak of each wing, the crimson scales as smooth as water, containing the same flowing pattern as sunlight on a river.

Sylenne tied her shirt back just beneath the new appendages blending smoothly into her shoulders. There was the soft whispering of strong muscles as the wings opened ever so slightly. She turned to him and grinned; the inside of her wings were the color of amber. Walking calmly to the bench just behind him, Sylenne lay down with one wing curled beneath her body.

"Goodnight," she said warmly. "Calm yourself in sleep, and tomorrow I will show my own memories." With that the other wing folded smoothly over her, forming a sleek, solid shell around her. Whether Tacitus could sense it or not, they could keep her protected from just about anything, short of the Apocalypse. One couldn't be too careful, but either way she hoped he wasn't insulted.

Inside the shell was black; dark and warm, holding no sound, not even steady breathing. Instead, the lingering rain spell could be felt, crawling ever so faintly across Sylenne's skin. She took in everything. With her, there was the steady drumbeat, the clean sweet smell, even the ghost of cool drops splashing over her. It was there and not, and very comforting.

She did not know what Tacitus was doing; she merely hoped he would stay. It would be a very, very long time before she would meet anyone 'like her' again. It was possible that in her supposedly immortal lifetime she may never find another Animus. Like the others she could simply choose a single form to live with, adapting to the lifestyle and eventual death of an unchanging creature. But even in her birth form she could not find peace, so why bother?

Sylenne did not sleep. It was not like the sleep of other beings, nor did it follow any necessary pattern. Tonight she merely felt like it, and rain usually helped. The sweet earthy scent was intoxicating, clouding her mind until even her eyes were too tired to shift. She slid carefully, slowly, into a subconscious place constructed over several decades. It was something like sleep; a place to rest the body and mind, but with a certain control that would ensure she did not wake up as a lion or a three-year-old with white hair and blue skin.

The night passed slowly, and by morning the rain had faded. The sun had barely risen above the abandoned city, and fog crept thick through the streets like spirits from a lifetime passed. The sky was clouded over, a pale winter-gray.

Within the church it was cool with faint icy light spilling through the shattered windows and casting threads of illumination over the heavily shadowed pews. Each candle had long since gone out, leaving the disfigured red stubs almost completely melted away.

Inside her wings, Sylenne was climbing towards consciousness as the sun was nearing its debut. Her eyes opened slowly, body not an inch different from its position when she first closed them. The top wing lifted almost like the lid of a coffin, and she smiled faintly to see her friend remained. The creature stood with a liquid grace, stretching her arms above her head to embrace the faint light.

The woman stalked soundlessly towards Tacitus. One arm fell gently around his shoulders, and she gave him a warm smile. Her eyes remained pale green with the faintest outline of gold. As she walked away her hand slipped from his shoulder, and she called back ever so softly, “This morning is not my doing, but that makes it beautiful. Follow me and I will show you my own memories…”

Sylenne waited patiently for Tacitus to follow. The fog was tall enough to swirl about her hips, damp and cold against her bare legs. Rather than shivering, one might have noticed the color within her wings shudder like a short puff of wind across a scarlet pool.

At her new friend's inquiry, she first replied simply by looking towards the masked ground with a sad smile across her features. Sylenne lifted her head once more, giving him the same smile. Behind the green of her eyes, there appeared to be rain clouds swirling for just the briefest moment.

"It's far," the Animus finally said. "I can take you there within an hour or so, as long as you don't mind the transportation."

With that, the young woman backed up considerably, until the abandoned buildings were spaced just enough that she must be at an intersection upon the cobblestone road.

Sylenne curled her body forward, eyes sliding closed. One might have thought she felt sick. But after a few moments, starting slowly from the tips of her toes, the swirling amber-red colors of her wings began soaking into the flesh. It slid quickly up her body, across her torso and spilling into her fingertips. Soon every inch of her was that shimmering magma pattern, having even reached her scalp to dye the hair red.

At first the skin was smooth, like human flesh. But then as a faint crackling sound filled the air, the crimson flesh began to fracture from her legs up into a scaly sort of armor. Hardened sheets crawled up to her neck, forming a very distinct pattern of armor.

Sylenne turned around then, using her large wings to shield her body as she stripped her clothing. It was true that her dragon hide would censor her body, but that didn't exactly take away the awkwardness.

With louder cracking noises and the sounds of joints popping into place, the creature's torso suddenly extended, stretching up into the air while her arms reached above her head like contorted tree branches. The cracking noises were gone now, and as her limbs extended and twisted her body moved with a certain odd grace.

Tilting her head back just far enough to see Tacitus, a wide smile with glittering fangs was thrown his way as her jaw suddenly extended. The serpent-like body then curled halfway into a ball as a long tail extended through the flesh of her lower back.

Finally the somewhat disturbing show ended, and the creature's body smoothed into a proper stance. Sylenne was now a full-fledged dragon. Her body was a few yards long, shimmering like her skin was somehow flowing. The thick magma blend met smoothly with the deep gold along her belly, and the fine mane along her neck and tail were the same color.

Sylenne turned in a smooth half circle to face Tac once more. Her clothes were hung about the joint of one wing. Her face was oddly canine, and somehow the smile that was all fang was still friendly.

"You can climb on my back," Sylenne said. Her voice was deep and rumbling with an echo of her normal tone. The words spilled out thick as oil, as if her throat were unfit for human tongues. Actually, it sort of was.