Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Talya meets Cae, who also grew up in Ravok, and the pair reminisce with one another. Then Firenze shows up and the party really gets started.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Talya on July 21st, 2015, 2:34 am

Timestamp: Summer 55, 515 AV

There wasn't much within Zeltiva that was open or empty. At least, not from Talya's perspective. But she had found one such place. It was the courtyard in front of the University, a big open stretch of grass, upon which several students and perhaps a few professors seemed to mill. Many talked to one another, some simply walked through, their bags heavily laden with books. (Assuming they weren't carrying whatever course material they may have in their arms). Some were practicing with one another, several were giggling as seagulls passed overhead, cawing incessantly. Talya wasn't amongst them- birds or humans. Birds, because she had no wings and couldn't fly, any more than she could speak gull, and humans because, well, she simply didn't feel accepted by them here much more than she had felt accepted by them back in Ravok. She also wanted a bit of time to herself, some time to think and to practice. Today in particular, she wanted to work on meditation, as she new it was a good practice for mages, as it helped to ground them, and keep them from overgiving. Or something like that, (she forgot exactly what her teachers back at the Institute had said). In any case, although she had never taken much to it, she felt the need to try, and had found herself an open patch of grass upon which to practice.

Talya began by sitting herself down, before folding her legs into the lotus position, with the right foot resting atop the left knee. From there, she straightened her back, and rolled her shoulders, a few times in the forward direction, and then a few more times back, just to loosen herself up. She tilted her chin a little higher, so her face was directed ahead of her, and took a deep breath before allowing her arms to settle onto the length of her twisted legs. The right arm on the right leg, and the left arm on the right leg. She rested her arms so that the paler portion was facing the sky, her palms directed upward. She held them flat, with the fingers close together, their points dangling over the side of her knees. Talya took another deep breath in through the nose and out through her mouth to help clear her head before she closed her eyes and ventured another deep breath. First, she tried to concentrate on the way her heart beat. The way it sounded, thumping in her chest. How fast it was beating- it seemed steady now. She wanted to slow it, make herself relax even more. At least, that was one of the goals of meditation- to quiet the heart. The other, she had heard, was quieting the mind. She would try to do this next.

Talya began by taking a deep breath, and doing her best to push thoughts out. Thoughts of the stars- how beautiful they looked in the night sky, whether or not she'd be able to see the little dipper tonight, whether or not she had confused the ursa's story with that of libra a few nights ago. Thoughts of what everyone was doing around her- if people were watching, thoughts on how she wished she could have been practicing one of the magical disciplines she knew, as opposed to a way to manage and cope with the side effects of using them. She sighed; then forced another deep breath upon herself as she told her mind to shut the heck up so she could meditate already. Her mind protested, it didn't want to shut up. In fact, it wanted to be loud. Really loud, to the point of being accused somewhat childish in its reaction. The way it insisted she listen to the seagulls cawing overhead. The way it urged her to try and listen in upon the conversations of those nearby. The way it urged her to do something else, anything else, as it was a nice day out, and sitting around doing nothing was boring.

To this, Talya reminded her mind that she was indeed a child. At least by the standards of human years. Five was young, although she didn't look it. She imagined her mind sticking its tongue back out at her. The lumpy pink shape extending a wrinkle. She imagined herself folding her arms and scoffed, as her mind began to win out, carrying her away. She shook her head, tousling her long hair; allowing the sun to kiss the once covered portions of her neck; warming her skin as the clouds continued to meander across the sky. She had to concentrate. Focus. Focus, she urged herself, as her ears prickled against the sound of someone laughing, her body picking up on the reverberations of nearby running steps as it did so.

Now wouldn't this be a whole load easier if it weren't so darn boring? her mind questioned, as she took another deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. She did her best to ignore it, and if your bum and your but didn't hurt so much, sitting rigidly on the hard earth? The grass, still a bit damp from the morning's dew? Talya sighed, this she did her best to ignore this too, as she struggled to concentrate on her breathing. The way it came in through her nose and out through her mouth. The way it made her chest rise and fall. The way it sounded like a soft whoosh as it made its way in and out of her body. How many times she did so per minute. How she felt as though she took deeper breaths when there were less of them, how her body and her mind felt lighter when this was the case.

Talya forced another deep breath as her temple began to ache dully from the way she tried to force concentration. The caws of the gulls becoming more and more raucous, more and more distracting. The sound of human voices becoming more high-pitched and piercing. She forced another deep breath, and kept her eyes shut, although the lids seemed to tense a few times. She felt a bug land on her shoulder, and fought the urge to brush it off as she struggled again to clear her mind. A sharp shooting pain shot up the length of her spine, as her behind continued to numb, and her mind continued to laugh at her for trying something so stupid and so pointless.

It seemed to be doing its level best to keep her distracted. To draw her away from her task. Just as everything around her seemed to be doing. But she wouldn't let it, she wouldn't let them. Talya was determined to meditate, and meditate she would this day, even if it were only for a minute!
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Caesarion on July 21st, 2015, 2:03 pm

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Tired. All of the sailors had to wake up early because, yeah yeah, they were docking in Zeltiva. He was sure that they couldn't all just sleep as it might lead to crashing the ship into the dock. All of it made sense, from the urgings of the Captain to the obsessive prattling of the sailors. But he didn't care . . . he was still tired. The moment they docked at Zeltiva, they told him they would spend a day or two to restock their supplies. Plus, figure out a route... plus, buy additional supplies, and then on top of that try and sell more stock now that they were back in Zeltiva. They needed to sell every little Denusk, every medicinal herb, or this journey wouldn't really have been worth it. Caesarion would've offered to buy one himself but unfortunately he was fairly poor at the moment, being an escaped slave and all. Instead, he used the time that he had before they would take off to try and explore the city a little. There were a few things he needed to do while he was here. Firstly, he needed to try and see if Aoren was here. The original plan was for him and Caesarion to go to Zeltiva together, which meant that it was surely a possibility that he was still in this city.

It was also a possibility that he decided to stay in Syliras - considering Caesar didn't end up going with him - but he doubted that. It was certainly a fear of his to encounter this man, but regardless he needed to make the effort. He was not going to just sit and let such an opportunity run away. He figured that his former lover might be studying at the University, considering he was that very type, and so the Ravokian asked around for directions. One of the issues of Zeltiva was that everything seemed very compact. The city was very densely populated and so everything was really confusing. There were too many people everywhere. They spoke properly and seemed very clean and proper, so at least they had advantages over the last two cities he'd been in, but that didnt change the fact that they were in his way. He had no clue how to get to the university even without hordes of people blockading his intended destination, so surely their presence only made it all more the worse. He eventually had to ask an old man who seemed fairly sad and somewhat lonely if he could personally guide him to the University, which ended up working very well, actually. One thing Caesarion learned growing up was that lonely old people were always the most willing to go out of their way for strangers.

Upon being steered in the right direction, Caesarion naturally came across the large series of structures that made up the 'Zeltivan University'. The University seemed very vast - like it consumed much of the territory of the city, and more than that, it was also very beautiful. Sadly though, because of his brief time here, he couldn't really spend time admiring architecture. He decided to walk forward to see if he could enter the University and ask if they had a certain student . . . a Drykas man. Before entering, though, he caught the visage of some girl bizarrely meditating on the grass. Well, it wasn't so bizarre really. He often found himself doing much the same thing in the middle of the Testing Grounds, which if anything was much more bizarre because it was a thousand times more dangerous. He could be grabbed and used as a test subject by half the damn Nuit around him.

He decided - oh hell - he was a people person at heart so he'd go up to her and try to be at least a little bit pleasant. He made his way over to the girl, recognizing as he drew closer that something about her clothing was familiar. It had a certain style to it that was not like this place - even more civilized, made from the finest tailors in all of Sylira. Beautifully fitted to perfectly wrap around the body, providing warmth and comfort both. Her clothes . . . were surely from Ravok. "Excuse me, miss," he said, calling to the girl as he closed the distance to her. "I hope you are doing well today." He spoke with an accent that most people didn't recognize. If she was from Ravok, though, she would certainly recognize it. She would recognize it as being exceptionally poised and very attractive of a voice - one of romance and culture. Caesarion was, in fact, very proud of his heritage as the city which he hailed from was surely one of the most beautiful and refined. Zeltiva seemed swell in its own right, but it didn't quite have the mystique of the city of canals and bridges. It didn't have that Neapolitan flare to it. "I recognized your attire and I wondered . . . were those clothes perhaps made for you in Ravok?" He asked her with a gentlemanly smile, well posture, and a very charming demeanor altogether. This was how he acted around civilized people - he treated them with respect and the dignity that their culture demanded.
Last edited by Caesarion on July 22nd, 2015, 5:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Talya on July 21st, 2015, 3:07 pm

Talya took a deep breath in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She could feel the sun's rays pooling in the palms of her outstretched hands. Warming her flesh; caressing her skin, as it idly walked up the length of her arm. Her natural skin tone keeping the area from heating up to hurriedly, as much as burning to rapidly. She smiled weakly; she liked how the sun felt upon her skin. Concentrate, the Ethaefal urged herself as she took another deep breath, concentrate. Don't let the way the sun feels distract you. Clear your head, clear your head. She breathed deeply again, this time in through her mouth, and out through her nose. It came with a heavy side, a momentary flop of her stomach, and slouch of her shoulders, which she swiftly corrected, wiggling her back out to loosen the muscles as she tried to resume her sad excuse for a meditation. Her mind annoying her again- telling her to think about the sound of the gulls, and how fun it would be to chase them off the lawn. To think about how close the water was, and how nice it would be to go for a little swim, and cool herself off. Her brow furrowed. Concentrate. Concentrate, she urged herself as she took another deep breath. Quell your thoughts, silence your mind.

Talya imagined herself pushing her thoughts away. Thoughts about how her stomach was beginning to rumble, and a part of her wanted to go and find a decent establishment from which to purchase some food, as goodness knew her own talents in the culinary department were laughable. Thoughts about how she should go visit some of the temples and shrines again so that she could pick the brains of the locals and the priests alike, in her quest to find the true meaning of good and evil. Thoughts about how nice the sunset may look later in the day, and what stars she may be able to see throughout the course of the night. Thoughts about how she should get herself a new dress, as she was sick of just wearing this one, and she was convinced it was beginning to look a little ragged. Thoughts about how sometimes, she got lonely, and just wished she could find herself a companion, or at least some more friends to talk to. Thoughts about how she wished there were more Ethaefal, because she felt so alone. Thoughts about how it might be nice to practice her dagger after this, because she always found it so relaxing. Unlike this mess, which made her body feel stiff and achy, and yet a little twitchy at the same time.

Concentrate. Concentrate, Talya urged herself, as she fought to clear her mind, and took yet another deep breath in through her nose, and out through her mouth. You can do it. Just sit on your numb bum a little longer, and you should be able to get your brain to shut up enough where you can concentrate for just a freakin' minute. Talya couldn't help but smirk as she took another deep breath, and then another. Counting them as she did so- one. Two. Three. She was letting out another breath, and just about to make it to her fourth breath, when a man's voice broke through. It was rather poised, suave even, in character. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes scrunched up a moment, as she came to the realization that not only was this man addressing her, but he expected her to respond. Not only this, but there was no way that she could meditate successfully with all the raucous going on not only all around her, but in her own mind. So slowly, resigning herself to having lost, Talya opened her right eye and looked up at the man who was looking down upon her. He was a widely-framed individual, with dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Kind of like the sea. He seemed fairly well built, and looked like he may actually be taller than Talya was, if only she bothered to stand up.

Talya nodded, as she allowed her other eye to open. "Yes, awhile ago," she said, in answer to his final question, which was the point upon which she began to pick up on his accent, and realize that he may be from Ravok. "Why do you ask?" she questioned, as she decided it best to scan his aura, to see if he might be the sort to give her trouble- the kind that may ridicule when she realized she wasn't exactly human, or the kind that may try to take her back to the city as a slave, despite her papers and her citizenship, and the apartment she had waiting for her back at home. So, she took another few deep breaths, and concentrated fully on Caesarion, her eyes never leaving his own. A few moments later, the man's aura came into view. It was pink in color, or maybe it was red. Talya wasn't quite sure, as it appeared to be caught somewhere between the two colors. Either way, it was flecked with bits of black, which seemed haunting twists of speckled raindrops. From this, she interpreted that the man came from a dark place, and this still followed him even to the present day. Effecting his demeanor and such, although he seemed friendly enough. That, or he concealed a dark place within that of something lighter. Something Talya judged to be passionate, brash, and light-hearted, based off its tone.

The aura didn't taste like anything, but she could hear chains rattling in the background. Just as she could smell water- first the sea, and then something familiar, although she couldn't quite place it. It wasn't exactly the smell of newly fallen rain, nor was it the smell of water playing over vegetation. It was something else entirely, but she didn't know quite what. The chains though, gave her the idea that the man was bound to something, but to what she didn't know. To friends? To family? To a sense of duty, or even his lover? It was impossible to know unless she asked, which she didn't exactly plan to, as that would be to forward and somewhat rude, among other things. So, as her pupils dilated, making the sun sting her eyes as its light filtered in, Talya let the aura fall. She felt now that she had let it go, that her heart was beating faster. But only by a little; so that it overcame the resting speed she had prior to her meditation. Her temples also ached dully, and she felt a little tired, as she took another deep breath and thought to herself that perhaps, it was time to get herself up. So, she began by unfolding her legs, and then slowly, easing herself onto her feet.

The world spun. Everything became colorful streaks- like an artist haphazardly throwing paint upon a campus. She reached for her head with her right hand and braced herself until she came to, and could stand steadily, despite the pain that continued to plague her temple. Her nails dug into the flesh by her scalp, picking up several strands of dark hair, which crawled over the length of her knuckles, and flowed freely down her hand; her wrist, her arm. She scratched her head lightly as she shut her eyes for a second and then opened them, remembering that Caesarion was standing there, looking at her. It was his shadow playing across her countenance that did it, and forced her to look back up into his eyes. "Do you come from there too?" she asked, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. "Do you miss it?"

OOCTalya isn't the best with auras, so feel free to have her interpretation be totally wrong. Maybe it already is?
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Caesarion on July 21st, 2015, 4:09 pm

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oocNah! Your description was actually nearly perfect, with the black veiled by lighter colors, the pink-red, the chains rattling. That fits him very well. I'm actually impressed by how well you placed him.

The girl seemed irritated when he first approached her. Seemed like she really didn't want to be broken from her concentration, but oh well, social graces called. He never had any hesitation when it came to making people break from out of their shell - in fact, that was perhaps his way, and that of his family. As she turned to him, she opened one of her eyes to scan his appearance. He could tell by the way her pupils moved that she was sizing him up. Most people tended to do that when they met him, and he could imagine why - he wasn't a fairly typical looking person, he was tall and muscular and very imposing, but not with a typically gruff or dangerous looking face. He was a sweet-looking man but surely not one you wanted to cross. And that was the way he preferred his appearance, surely, over the sort of typical one-or-the-other of the men and women he'd been meeting on the ship, and in Mathew's Bay, and even directly in Zeltiva.

The girl herself was interesting looking, but he couldn't really tell much about her appearance as a whole until she stood. What he gathered was that she had a very docile appearance, with long black hair that seemed silky and altogether pleasant. Caesarion's hair was much the same way, save short and blond, but in texture they weren't far apart. She was a pretty woman, though he always had difficulty in being able to tell whether or not a woman was attractive or not. He used his mother as a base since she was to this day the most beautiful woman he'd known, and so a lot of others paled in comparison. But - this lady was certainly very attractive by regular standards and he was certain that most people would find her as such. She also didn't seem to have a short and lanky body type. He imagined she would be quite tall, though probably not as tall as he was.

Her second eye opened, then she answered, fully looking at him now though her eyes seemed slightly scrunched as if she didn't like the sunlight on her face right now. Her accent - he could tell very quickly - did seem to be one familiar. Ravok, he surely imagined. That brought a smile to his face, which would surely seem a bit weird to her, but he was sure that she would only take it as a base friendliness that lived within his personality. "I'm pleased to hear of that," he said, responding to her initial words. Sadly Caesarion wasn't wearing clothes from Ravok anymore - it'd been years since he left, and due to his massive increase in muscle size he outgrew his fine clothes from back home. He discarded nearly all of that old clothing, not having the ability to keep transporting it across the world. "I ask because that is my home city, though I haven't seen it in quite some time." He actually hadn't met a single person from Ravok in all the time he'd explored the other parts of Sylira. He supposed that, in all likelihood, his people were very isolated. They had no reason to travel, really, as their city was very beautiful and not difficult to get by in if you were one of the faithful.

Strangely enough, after she asked him her question, she started to deeply stare at him. Very deeply. It was almost creepy in a way, and it reminded him of back when his Master would do much the same thing while they were talking - not let his gaze leave Caesarion, lean forward and stare. Emarus Telemaran was an aurist, and it was a brief thought of his that she was too. Which made him uncomfortable, from what little he knew about those sorts of mages. He didn't like the idea of being observed beyond the flesh and his words, because he very well knew that there was a dark longing in his heart eating him alive. Trying to consume him - that love for Ravok, for Rhysol, that he kept silent in order to survive in a Syliras dominated world where he was not considered to truly be a part of civilized society unless he cast out his upbringing. And he thought that maybe Talya might know that. "From your accent, I figure you're from Ravok too. I want you to know that it might not be good to let people know that, though. I have no idea how Zeltiva is like, but I was always judged in Syliras when I spoke of home. It made things very difficult for me." He frowned.

Still, she was staring at him intently, and he figured that whatever she was doing he would just try to ignore it. Maybe he'd just hypnotize her perceptions out of her, and wash his slate clean. Then again, that kind of sounded illegal. He wasn't sure how Zeltivans treated magic - Sahovans certainly didn't care who you hypnotized, they'd blame them for being foolish enough to be controlled. Finally, she seemed to stare less intently, and she looked up to his eyes to ask him a question. "I do come from there," he said. "From a wealthy neighborhood, close to the home of the Larks. Do you know of them? The largest slaving house in Ravok. My family is a sort of friend of theirs." He nodded, smiling. That wasn't so pleasant a thought, but he did always take pride in his heritage. His family was some of the best in one of the best cities. If only he stuck around to pursue that legacy.

As for her second question, his eyes lowered and his stagnant position wavered. He didn't really know if he missed Ravok. It was a place connected to many mixed feelings - feelings of love and admiration, feelings of fear and solitude. Perhaps the love and admiration overpowered the other, more dark emotions, but perhaps neither overpowered the other and he would never truly be able to make up his mind, except for on fleeting moments like this where he felt closer and closer to his home - closer to Rhysol, to Lyssa, to the Voice. "Yes . . . I do miss it," he said. "I miss it more than I ever thought I would. And yet I feel like I can't go back, you know?" He shrugged. He was never the best at explaining his conflicting feelings. He was only good at drawing them out and hoping for them to be skinned and dissolved. "What about you?" he asked her. "Why did you leave Ravok? Did you not like it there, my Lady?" He was formal with his words, especially when addressing his brethren, fellow children of Rhysol and the canals. He did acknowledge feeling a certain kinship with them. It had been a long time since that particular feeling, too, which only made it stronger.
Last edited by Caesarion on July 22nd, 2015, 5:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Talya on July 21st, 2015, 6:24 pm

Talya nodded as she straightened herself out, so that she came to her full height, if not pretty darn close. "That would make sense considering the nature of both cities- their patron deities, diametrically opposed in their values and their beliefs, as I would imagine, are both sets of people at their core." Talya paused. "Their branches," she continued a moment later, as though adding on to her previous sentence, "as far as their separate military groups are concerned; they have been enemies for as long as anyone can imagine, don't you think?" Talya blinked a few times as soon as she had fallen silent, as though she were clearing her head. She shook it lightly at his next question, causing her long black hair to rustle along the length of her back; tickle the bare spaces between her shoulder blades and around her neck. "The name doesn't seem familiar," she responded. "No," she insisted, although her tone didn't sound very insistent at all. Quite the opposite actually, although it were sure of itself, and yet, on some other, deeper level, still possessed some doubt.

Talya fell silent again for awhile, as a soft breeze blew in from the bay. Easing the heat out of the air, and cooling her skin as it rustled the fabric of her attire, causing the lower folds of her dress to flutter lazily around her hips, knees, and ankles, before it died down, and left the world in a silence, devoid of its eerie whistling. "Naturally," Talya began again, somewhat cautiously, "one can fall in love with the beauty of a city, yet begin to peel away the layers, to reveal nothing more than a rotting core. The confusion within what is believed, and what is known. The use of slaves to serve those with money. The ridicule of those that don't entirely human." She forced a smile; a most curious thing that curled the edge of her lips. "Of course, such is known," she said, as the force eased its way out of her smile, and it became all the more genuine and natural, once given just a little bit more time. "But that doesn't mean a part of you might not still long for it- the familiarity, perhaps."

Talya's gaze seemed increasingly distant, as though she were still trying to fight off the remnants of her previous trance. "There were so many questions that needed answers. Questions that could never be resolved if one remained." She sighed to herself. "Questions that perhaps, most of those who are from Ravok, and those that still live there never bother to think about. Never bother to ask." She sighed. "Have you ever really thought about the city?" Talya asked. "Not just the canals, and the bridges, and the buildings... I mean the things that are beyond that. Beyond plain sight." She paused, before nibbling on her lower lip a moment, and thinking things over. She hadn't often found someone outside of Ravok to talk to about her thoughts, and a part of her finally wanted to share them with someone from there, as opposed to the locals that simply didn't understand, as they hadn't experienced any of the things she had. A part of her however, was worried she would offend him with her questions. Especially if he were one of the devout. But what did it matter? Even if he were, he would have no power over her here. Besides, she wasn't about to go back for a long while, especially considering her financial state. But even if she were to go back to the place she had always seen and known as home- there was another form she could shroud herself within during the course of the night; and he would be none the wiser.

So, Talya took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, and decided that for the sake of sharing; for the sake of seeing if there was anyone else from Ravok who was even a little bit like her, she decided to take the plunge, and continue on. The color of his aura seemed to help, as she thought on how to frame her next area of speech, before deciding on what to say. Determined, she began with, "in Ravok, there is no shortage of love for Rhysol, you know," before pausing. "He is seen as a good god. One whose hand stays poor weather, and one who keeps Ravok's citizens safe." She fell silent a moment as her gaze fell from his radiant face. "But, everywhere else, he is seen as dark, and corrupt and evil. Chaotic. Why?" she asked, as she looked up at him again. "Why is that? Why doesn't the rest of the world see what we as Ravokians alone can see?" she sighed. "Why do they see Priskil and Sylir as good, while we view them as bad?" Again she paused, "you see now, don't you?" Talya went on. "This is not something that can be found there," she spread her arms, "but out here, somewhere..."

Talya sighed. Why did the world have to go and be so damn complicated?

OOCWhy thank you muchly, kind Sir!
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Caesarion on July 22nd, 2015, 12:27 am

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He agreed with her. From her words, he immediately found her to be an extremely well-learned, pleasant and informed woman. She had much going for her, this Talya, in terms of what she knew and what she wanted to know. He even discovered her meditating perhaps upon thoughts, implying a deep will to gain something from each action and moment. His impression - was impressed. Of course he would be. He hadn't spoken to someone from Ravok in so long, and yet he always remembered them to be so intelligent. Rhysol did not breed mindless maniacal fervor in his city. Those in the upper strata of society were extremely philosophical, observant, and hungry for knowledge. Perhaps that was why some of them fell away - like Caesarion. Because they refused to embrace 'acceptance,' and instead sought to embrace 'truth'. What was the truth of Ravok? He had not the faintest clue. He did acknowledge though, from living in both Syliras and Ravok, that the Knights and the Ebonstryfe were not well-aligned. Why? He didn't know. Both of them provided order for their people, but he supposed that their enmity swelled not from their own morals and convictions to keep their cities well-maintained, but instead due to the animosity between their respective Gods. Knights and Ebonstryfe both served two opposite sides of the greyest coin, Good and Evil, at least according to each respective side. Caesarion - through all of his travels - found the coin to be much more complicated in its color, wrought with bizarre moral issues that could not be simply solved or ascertained by means of identifying Gods and cities and people with one particular alignment.

She didn't know who the Larks were, which was surprising for an inquisitive member of Ravok. They were one of the Five Major Houses. Still, she did know a lot more - or at least formulated a lot more - many little opinions of the city. She narrated it thus: that you can fall in love with Ravok's outwards appeal, but inwards you may find it wanting, due to slaves and racism. He felt much the same way, which was a big reason why he left Ravok, but his perceptions changed dramatically since actually leaving the city. Sahova was a big experience for him. It taught him - truly - just how pristine Ravok was versus much of the rest of the world, even if you were a slave or a non-human. The Ravokians were still much kinder to the other races than Nuits to Pulsers. Perhaps the difference to him was that he was looking to one from the perspective of the privileged and the other from the perspective of the oppressed, being a slave in Sahova after all, but regardless his conclusion was made: even if you did peel away the layers, his home city was not nearly so bad. And so he decided to speak to her with the honesty of his heart.

"In Ravok, I was a slaver. I was a kind slaver, a valiant one, one with great resolve. My mother taught me to be kind and my father taught me to be strong. I treated my slaves with respect. I did not ever use them for anything sadistic within me or wanting in me. I did not use them for pleasure or for pain - not for my addictions or my dark impulses, of which there were many, and honestly there still are." It was difficult, after conditioning himself to be silent and obedient, to speak like a true Ravokian again. To tell the truth of what longed within him: that great greed, that great need, the all-consuming fire that was his mortal ambition and his animal instincts. He was exceptionally cruel in nature and he had always known it. Regardless, his entire life in Ravok, he resisted these impulses. He spoke of them, he got help for them, even though sometimes people would tell him to simply let go and unleash his fury on those less than him. He told Talya because she could understand, surely, what a person might go through in a city of such veiled cruelty. He acknowledged that Ravok was pristine but imperfect. People like him were everywhere, those who seemed to align with darker things, especially in their youth. He did not know if this was the influence of Rhysol, or simply of excessive wealth and power, but regardless Caesarion was molded into a vicious man from it all.

Still, he continued. "I eventually grew discontent with the city around me because it was filled with people who would exploit others, even if they did not do so in public. The Larks, for example, were devout of Rhysol who claimed to protect all of his children but they so openly defiled so many of them under their slaver's grasp. I could not understand why Rhysol would only protect the free and not the ones truly in need. As a result, despite being a part of so prominent a slaver family, I abandoned my luxurious wealth and set free all of the slaves I personally owned. I took path to Syliras and set out to live a different life, content to cast away my baggage and embrace curiosity. I believed that out there, I would find an answer to everything I had been wanting. That I would be told what I wanted to hear: that Rhysol truly neglected His children, that he was evil, that he oppressed slaves. And yet - I never found this answer." This was simply the truth. Even in Syliras, a city so full of anti-Ravok sentiment, there was no grounds on which they based their hatred. The death of Sylir? He was Rhysol's enemy, and even then, was it really proven that Rhysol killed him? Their proof was circumstantial. They spoke of things that they did not truly know - but instead, what the Knights told them. And would they Knights ever really speak of these things? No. Did they know either? Probably not - probably brainwashed.

"In Syliras, the sentiment against our people was rabid but unfounded. They spoke to me as if I were so bad, despite my actions proving otherwise. All I had ever done was protect the weak, fight for justice. I freed slaves, I fed them well, I kept them safe and comfortable. I treated those in lower classes with such respect and dignity. I was never racist. I was always good. Even despite this, they judged me by association. I was treated with disrespect and negligence for the entirety of my stay in the city, at mere words of my place of origin, and without anyone ever explaining otherwise in words that did not simply consist of: the Defiler. They called Him that, but why? I do not understand it." He was speaking very freely now, as Talya seemed to want him to. She inquired upon his thoughts, and so he would give all of them - all the many hordes of opinions he had formulated across so long, all the beliefs he'd fostered and held back from open mouths because no one would have ever understood. No one ever lived touched by the Black Sun and found themselves a curious investigator in foreign lands. No one save this woman who he didn't even know the name of.

And she spoke more on things that truly got to him - that reminded him of his own questions, that he had almost perfectly aligned to her thoughts when he first left the city of canals. He acknowledged the truth of her words, for there was truth, but he was also skeptical. It was in fact an honest belief that there was something beyond plain sight in Ravok, but what it may have been was simply the blind ambition of Gods. Gods were ambitious, that was a known fact. Rhysol was surely ambitious, and so was Myleena Vos. He knew this to be true just based on the little he'd learned of Gods since leaving Ravok. Still, that didn't mean they were evil. Their power was surely a conduit with which to serve their purposes, which could have been good, or could have been quite bad. He did not truly know, when it came to Rhysol.

He had to think upon it. He was still thinking. "I have thought about the things beyond the aesthetic, yes, like the Black Sun, the Ebonstryfe and the Voice. I have thought about their purpose . . . their motives, their potential for corruption. How their dynamic lived on - how they interacted for the sake of the biggest imperatives and the greatest of them. I have pondered these things for years . . . and I still do not know. Why?" He felt that this was important to explain to Talya, who would surely come across this pain herself while seeking answers about the mysterious city she came from. It might save her a lot of pain. "Because Ravok is the greatest mystery in the world. There is nothing more compelling, no place where secrets are more hidden. The Sylirans call our God the God of Lies - if that is the case, then surely there is no way of finding the truth in that place. They will never tell the lesser of our brethren the truth. That is simply the only way for the city to survive - the only way for the Voice to remain in control, for Rhysol to presume obedience of his people. The Knights do the same thing. How much do people really know about them, my Lady? Only of tales that do them justice. There is so much hidden from plain sight. Syliras and Ravok are both songs sung from the same darkly diaphragm. You will never uncover these secrets. Why ponder? Why leave? The world beyond is far crueler." He knew that from experience - after, everything, he'd gone through. And she would possibly know too. Whatever motivation she had for leaving, it was perhaps naivety that forced her movement. And Caesarion's too. Naivety and pride and foolishness and jealousy, of so many people, starting with his brother.

What she said next was perhaps the most important - one that struck the greatest cord for him. One that remembered him of his dreams, whether you might call them experiences of euphoria or dark nightmares. Longing for Rhysol. Rhysol, he chanted the name in his sleep. Rhysol, he called to when he was in need - hungry and dying, even though he so desperately needed to pretend that it was Priskil all along. Who had his prayers even been going to, all this time? Priskil or Rhysol? Why did he feel so owned by the 'Dark Lord' - and so neglected by the Beacon of Hope? There was such a strong compulsion towards one that he couldn't even possibly fathom the gap in their control over him. Even so, even if it had been brought down to a battle of great forces of good and evil, the Defiler had surely defeated young Priskil before she could ever lay claim. He felt his peace of mind wane, and instead become replaced by a chaotic ambition. Every day, this ultimate transformation brewing within him was being brought closer to its finale.

In the wake of such realization, he would set upon the beginning of a chanting that had resounded within himself for all his life, written at a young age, and never forgotten. This was a response to her questioning of Rhysol. And so - whether or not she would heed his insane ramblings would be up to her, but he would speak them nonetheless, for he knew in his heart that these words were one to consider for any who dared to question the integrity of the divines.

Caesarion's Chant :
Chaos, Talya. That's what they call our Lord. 'The Defiler'. Let's take a look at their concept of Chaos, though, and how it coincides with him. There is surely no description for Chaos, as it is vast in its meaning. Chaos isn’t just a word that could be defined by a scholarly man wielding a book. It isn’t a word that can be laid down as trivia and explained away by a few wise words or comparison. Chaos is an element of the universe that is and isn’t what it is. It isn’t good, it isn’t bad, it isn’t nice or mean . . . it isn’t a red cord of blood or the transparent water going down one’s throat. It is everything and it is nothing. It is the world at its base, and it is suppressed due to agenda and fear.

One might call Caiyha the Goddess of Nature, but is nature itself not chaotic? Did it not reign in tedious anarchy, impossible to control for all fell underneath it? Humans and their peers are a part of nature. Caiyha, in her arrogance, claims that nature is her own when in reality she simply has a penchant for animals, dirt and grass. There is a true God of Nature, and he didn’t dare interact with the world as she did – preserve or discontinue as others did, each and every God that dared to pretend like they left mortal affairs to mortals when they were constantly flooding their cities with rules and laws and order. Sylir for example. How could he claim to favor his followers when he believed himself and his teachings essential to their survival? Did he not pity and doubt humanity, and sadistically tease their shortcomings?

All of the pantheon hated humans for all time, Valterrian and before. They judged them and they spited them and they picked and chose which one they would keep and which they would kill. They abandoned and betrayed the majority of those they claimed to care for. If Priskil was the Goddess of Hope, why was there so much hopelessness? Because she wasn’t strong enough. She didn’t try hard enough. She was weak and fragile like the rest of her ‘exalted’ peers whereas there was one God . . . who did his job well, who never faltered, who always reigned.

Everyone knows his name. Everyone calls for him. Everyone longs for him in the night, beseeching that he return them to the base of their nature and destroy the abominations that suppressed their free will. He believes in humans more than any other God did. He made the Voice from a mortal each time, he gifted mortals immortality in exchange for service, he blessed those in Ravok with peace and prosperity. Us. Everything he did was for his children, the most devout people of the city of canals, and surely any who would follow Rhysol in his aspirations. It wasn’t that he was evil – this was just a label by the lesser Gods to make him the ‘other’. He was simply their enemy and the only one who would abolish their marionette over the creatures of this world. In his gaze, all is set free and liberated. No one is nothingness, no one is cursed to fall away from the graces - the Gods - because of what they determined long before our lives were made flesh.


And that was an episode, bizarre as it was, freakish as it was, one that Talya might despise and fear the wielder of the words for - or admire, and begin to appreciate. He didn't care. He didn't even know if he was speaking the truth. But he knew it - he longed for it, that power that he felt whenever he spoke the Father's name. The Dark Father. He wanted to know the same things she did, but surely, he could never . . . ever . . . find out, not how things were now.

Through all of that, he grew heated and impassioned, and his emotions shifted drastically. He was having one of those dark nightly moments where he expressed his devotion to his Father - but not in his dreams or nightmares, instead, in the waking world, in front of someone's very eyes. He was terrified . . . and blessed, both.

oocSorry for how absurdly long it is. Caesarion gets very deep and touchy when his 'Father' is involved.
Last edited by Caesarion on July 22nd, 2015, 5:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Talya on July 22nd, 2015, 1:36 am

Talya nodded. She sighed. "That is the problem," she began, "or at least part of it. The gods have names; but they have no faces. There are few that continually walk the earth, if any at all. There are few of us who have met them; and fewer still, I imagine, who know where they are hiding from us. Watching our every move. Listening to our thoughts, if they care to." She paused. She wasn't so sure that last bit was true, but who did? Who really knew anything about any of the gods. "We may think we know them. But do we really? Do we know anything more than the fact that they likely created the first of us long ago, to watch us interact with one another? To pull our strings as though we were their puppets, their toys that they could manipulate at their will?" her voice dripped with venom. She sighed, trying to clear her head. "We know only what is written. What we are told. But who wrote the books of them? Those who know them personally, or those who guess? Were their ranks and their knowledge and their personalities, their... realms assigned to them by man? Or did they pick them amongst themselves in a game of dice?"

Talya truly wondered, because it simply didn't make sense. "What makes one goddess the ruler over love and beauty, and another the ruler of nature? What makes one god the being who resides over chaos, and another, fire? Is it because they wanted to be those things, or because they are those things? Or simply, because we wish them to be that, and our perceptions have made it so they adapted to as much? Or have they simply traded spaces, and adapted to meet our own will? Are they truly the gods and goddesses of this realm, or are we? Mere mortals, who walk the earth laden with an endless mass of questions, confusion, and ignorance upon our shoulders?"

Talya fell silent a moment. She looked distant. Sad. Despondent. "These are only some of the questions. There are so many more... so many more," she whispered at the end, before looking back up at him. "That too is a problem." She paused, "and I have spent a long time searching for their answers. A long time wandering, arguably without aim, trying to find even a piece of the puzzle; just a part of the solution. A long time seeking others out, others who are well educated, or simply others with opinions. Temples have been visited, shrines. The brains of many a priest and acolyte have been picked clean, as have many of the more impressionable minds of those in prayer, but they too, never seem to possess any answers. Only more and more questions, until the pile seems endless." She paused. "They know nothing. I know nothing. We know nothing. And yet, we all pretend to know something, even if it is only a little." She paused, as she ran her right hand through her hand, and began to pull apart several of the dark, knotted strands. "How can we live with ourselves, knowing that we are only pretending?"

"How can they?" Talya asked as she looked down at the ground, and her gaze began to lose itself as she became increasingly far off as she continued her speech. "How can they say that they know something, if all it takes is a little poking and prodding for everything to unravel? To reveal the holes in their knowledge, the holes in their story? Mere theories that say Rhysol is evil, or Priskil is good, or Zulrav is somewhat neutral, or whatever else." She threw up her hands in exasperation, and then sighed heavily. It sounded as though it too, could have been a groan. "Why is everything the way it is... when we know nothing? For we weren't there. We didn't see it. We can't see it. We can't substantiate it..."

Her head felt like it was about to explode. She likely seemed as though she were about to cry, and run out of breath all at once. She took a deep calming breath, and then looked back up at Caesarion. "Sorry," she muttered, "I just hate how it seems that I'm upon a quest that will never end. A quest with no answers, or perhaps, even a dozen of them. A quest, that may only be answered in death, or the space that comes after, and before its truth. In life for a ghost."

Talya fell silent for a moment. She nibbled on her lower lip. "I'm not ready for that yet..."

OOCSo, I'm not so sure Talya actually responded to Cae, or if she just went on a little rant of her own. Such a shame, since you almost gave me to much to work with there. >.<
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Firenze on July 22nd, 2015, 2:52 pm

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Golden orbs watched bodies moving and milling about. Rough bark rubbed on soft skin as Firenze shifted. Leaning against a tree in the courtyard of the University. There was a student that had paid for her services and she was supposed to meet him at the 10th bell. Glancing to the sky, through the fluttering fat leaves on the tree, Syna’s light filtering through, it appeared as though the student was running behind.

Sighing, she waited, she didn’t want to lose out on the coin and hoped that the young man hadn’t changed his mind. She’d put on her damask dress and black heels, applied golden powder to her lids and pomade to soften her lips. Hope that he would show kept her from feeling as though the effort wouldn’t go to waste. If he didn’t, there were other prospects in the courtyard.

At that thought her eyes scanned the area once more, women and men of all shapes, sizes and ages roamed the grounds. Chatter met Fire’s ears but it was tuned out, the ambiance of the area giving a feeling of great minds coming together, discussing work and probabilities, nothing that Firenze was familiar with. So with that she tuned them out, just watching their mouths move as the words were unintelligible, some conversations far enough away that she didn’t have to try to tune it down, she couldn’t catch enough of the syllables to tell what they were saying, the tones just flowing with the rest of the conversations giving an undertone to the overall feel.

She watch an older man, with greying hair and an arched back move slowly along one of the paths, a cane clacking hard against the cobbled stone, forcing it’s polished wood into cracks to give stability. Half-lidded eyes took in his features for a moment, letting herself relax as she people watched.

Another glance to the sky, the sun moved slightly, and still no client. Brows furrowing, she dropped her gaze back to the man, then slid to a couple that was behind him. He continued to move past them, but Fire didn’t follow and instead watched the new scene. There was the woman she’d met in the wildlands, sitting on the grass. She seemed almost upset with the man that was standing over her. He was a sight.

Her new habit kicked in and she started to pick out features that she enjoyed. Strong jaw, sunned skin and he was taller than her. Scanning him from head to foot, she figured they’d be about the same height currently, with the black buckled heels she was wearing it gave her a few more inches. She’d figured she’d be taller than Talya for sure, since barefooted they were the same height.

A pause in her inspection, she wondered if she should go a speak with Talya, see if she could introduce her to the man she was speaking with. Considering her current client was obviously late, the sun now well past the 11th bell, Fire wondered if she could interest the new face into increasing her purse.

Moving from under the shade of the tree, toward the pair in the grass, her heels now had their turn of clacking loudly on the cobble. Long visible legs made their way into the grass, trying to step carefully so that she wouldn’t lose balance. Upon approach, a greeting was given, “Talya, Hello.” Fire’s eyes stayed on her for a moment and then flicked back to the man standing. Their height almost identical her suspicions confirmed. Blue-green and serious eyes met hers, it startled her a moment, the feel of the air was strained slightly and heated. Had they been having a fight? An argument? It didn’t feel fun and that was not good for Fire or her business.

“I hope the day is treating you well?” A smile lit her face, trying to lighten the mood, her mind searching to come up with something that could make them smile or laugh. Hands clasped in front of her, her arms long enough that they sat almost to the edge of the dress. She turned to the man, extending one of the hands, “I’m Firenze,” give a smile and a quick wink, “you can call me Fire.” Her hand going back to it’s spot, she shifted and inquired as to what the conversation was and if there was room for a third to join, her plans having been spoiled she didn’t want to waste the day sitting in the cottage.

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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Caesarion on July 22nd, 2015, 4:09 pm

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After his outburst, he found everything that Talya said difficult to comprehend. He was sort of in the brink of shame - letting himself draw so near to the edge, letting that fanatical adoration for Rhysol that he tried to suppress consume him. He didn't really speak much afterwards, instead only responding to everything the woman said with a nod or a 'yeah', although he did find her points to be fairly valid. The Gods would be the Gods, and no one would ever understand unless they got to the point where they were allowed to understand. At that point, you were likely already owned by them, and so you would never betray their secrets. They were a mystery that was unfathomable. And he didn't really mind that - it was a necessary element of their existence, and their paranoia was laden with fondness to their survival. They needed to be guarded in order to go on. After all that she said, though, he didn't really know what to say in response. A part of him, due to the shame of what he just said, wanted to simply leave at this very moment and not worry about the conversation. He already had his discussion with this lady. It was nice to speak to a fellow Ravokian while it lasted, but it did not last long, and that was fine. He was fine with such result.

Of course, as he began to form the words in his mouth to tell her that he would get going, someone else joined the conversation. He turned to look, immediately feeling that instinctual weariness he had garnered from Sahova. She was pretty, and she wore very nice looking clothes. But - something about her felt off. Her demeanor was exceptionally . . . not normal, like she was radiating something that she wanted you to notice. The man eyeballed her with a sort of curious look, and shortly after she said hello to the girl - who he now knew to be Talya - she looked at him, staring him down. He found that this was something a lot of people did when they looked at him. It was sort of a confidence booster really, though sadly the goods weren't for sale for any of the people that looked, and they weren't even offered endearingly to those of the fairer sex. He realized quickly that she seemed put-off, to some extent, by the way he was expressing himself at the moment. His own demeanor was entirely off-putting, somewhat heated and somewhat ashamed of his words. So, he quickly regained his poise, his eyes returning to that of their regular relaxed look. The entire situation was very odd, though.

Firstly, he noticed that the girl was very tall. Upon looking at her attire, he realized that the reason for this was her absurdly high shoes. He hadn't seen many people wear shoes like that in his life. Even without them she was as tall as Talya - which was saying something - but with them she actually met his height, and considering Caesarion was seventy-five inches, that was impressive. He wondered if the men in Zeltiva - or perhaps the women's women - liked really tall girls as a sort of cultural thing. Talya and Firenze had been the only women he'd really stopped to look at since he got here, and they were both certainly not lacking when it came to height. She spoke pleasantly at least, though he still felt something was weird about her. I hope the day is treating you well, she said, and he smiled slightly and nodded in response so as to say that it was in fact doing him well. Then, she decided to extend her hand. He figured it was for a handshake, even though he was twice her size when it came to his arms and his general build, and as such didn't find it appropriate according to the cultural customs he was used to. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and extend back, although entirely for the purpose of a shake, if that was even what she wanted. And, respectfully, he looked people in the eye as he shook their hands - but all he found from her was a flirtatious look, a smile, and a wink as she said her name.

Caesarion didn't realize that he'd get hit on already, but it was very clear that she was trying to incite a reaction from him, for whatever reason. Bad break-up and rebounding? Really sexually frustrated? Maybe she wanted to manipulate him? He didn't know, but he never trusted people that would try and seduce you on first sight, largely because he was one of those people, and always for nefarious reasons.

"I'm Caesarion," he said with his Ravokian accent. His words flowed smoothly though his R was a bit accentuated to roll slightly. He bowed formally to her as he did before all folk with classy appearances, though considering she was probably hitting on him, he did not kiss her hand as he would a Lady from Ravok. "It is nice to meet you Firenze . . . Fire." Her name sounded quite fanciful with his accent, too, and he actually liked how it sounded when he repeated it in his head. Elegant. "I'm assuming you already know Talya, yes?" He remembered her name. He felt slight discomfort, though, being around two people that already had been previously acquainted while he was the outsider in the conversation. He was an extremely cautious person considering the games he'd been forced to play in his life - especially in the past few years - and he already made the presumption that these two could possibly be trying to jointly manipulate him, if they were both Zeltivans and he was a foreigner, not even a resident. He kept his eyes peering and his mind skeptical.
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Of the Past (Caesarion, Firenze)

Postby Talya on July 22nd, 2015, 9:23 pm

Talya's face reddened. It felt warm. She was embarrassed not only for her own words, and her own outbreak, which seemed to move on its own tangentals which in some ways, overlapped with what Caesarion had said, and in many others, broken off in its own direction before stopping to dangle awkwardly in the air, but because he appeared bashful as well. Maybe it was because they had both allowed their speech to get out of hand, their manners to fall by the wayside, as they expressed the things that they had been thinking, and holding in for quite some time. Things that they had let brew, and kept hidden, so no one every truly got to know their true selves. Or perhaps, his unease stemmed more from the fact that they had been discovered by a third party; their talk interrupted as Firenze ambled over to them. Dressed far more seductively than she remembered, (although she recalled in part, that she hadn't been dressed at all). Talya's eyes danced over the Kelvic as a smile stretched across her cheeks from ear to ear, deepening her dimples, as her dark eyes flashed with merriment, as though they had absorbed a few sparkling silver stars.

"Hello Firenze," she'd call back, while the Kelvic was still approaching. She'd glance sideways at Caesarion as Fire came to a halt in front of them; appearing as though she weren't even remotely tired, sweaty, or out of breath. "We were just talking about home. It has been awhile for both of us," she explained, as she turned her gaze away from the man to the woman. "It seems we were both excited by the prospect of having someone to talk to about it- there don't seem to be many people around here who are from there, and share some of the same views we seem to," she explained, although she wasn't sure that was entirely true, it explained away a lot of the question that Firenze seemed to contain within the confines of her golden colored eyes. Questions poised at the edge of her reddened lips. Lips that seemed both redder and fuller than Talya remembered their having been on the night of their initial encounter. Perhaps, Talya guessed, it was the makeup that accentuated her features, making her eyes look bolder; fiercer. Her cheeks lightly blushed, although this too, could have been the work of the sun.

"We've met once before," Talya explained, "not to long ago," she added, perhaps answering before Firenze had the chance. She didn't like feeling like she may have been getting but out of one conversation, in favor of another. Although the other could have been nice too. She decided further, not to share the secret she knew Firenze bore upon her shoulders, and hoped that Firenze would do the same for her. It seemed only fair, to share the other half of yourself only if you were ready and willing, and my, she thought, as her face reddened even more deeply, was that a suggestive way of phrasing thing. She forced herself to whisk it away, as her eyes passed first from the Kelvic to the man she had been speaking to about home; about Ravok, and Rhysol, and Syliras the Priskil, the goddess their land had always deemed lesser, and in many ways, false and disgusting. As her gaze studied Caesarion's, who seemed to be doing his best to seem as though he were having a decent enough time, she decided to do her best to find away to ease any lingering tension, or awkwardness, or any sense that a person were being left out, by proposing an activity that they could all take part in.

"You know, it's still pretty early- we could always go somewhere and catch up," Talya commented. "If we left now, we should still have more than enough time to make it into the forest, if you guys would be interested in a quiet night looking up at the stars." She paused. That seemed like the kind of good idea that would only be a good idea for her. So she wound up nibbling on her lower lip, and feeling both doubtful and stupid a moment, before she forced herself onward. "Or we could stay around here and do something- drinking is always fun," she lied, she hated drinking, and didn't much like the taste of alcohol, but it seemed to loosen other people up, so she'd try it now and again. "Or we could go to the beach. It's pretty hot out, so a swim may help us cool off." She forced herself not to chuckle nervously, or look any more nervous than she felt as her body tensed. Someone perceptive may pick up on it; but otherwise, it was kept slight and hidden, and largely unnoticeable. "It'll be fun," she began, "we'll have a good time together," she insisted, as she began to weave her hypnotic djed into her words, as she looked at neither of the pair in particular. She was unsure as to what else to do, and although she knew her magic would be weak, she felt as though she needed a bit of a boost.

As her pupils dilated, Talya couldn't help but feel as though socializing took a lot of work. That it was very tiring, and even if her celestial form didn't feel tired the way man did, that she would need, and be rather deserving of a good night's rest later that evening.

OOCJust a heads up for the two of you- I will be away celebrating my grandmother's birthday this weekend. I should be back either late Sunday night or Monday, and won't be able to post much if at all this weekend. Please don't be alarmed, as I shall return.
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Talya
Darkness Becoming
 
Posts: 317
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Joined roleplay: March 5th, 2015, 5:10 am
Location: Wildlands/Zeltiva
Race: Ethaefal
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