Closed Movement


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Herein lies Xyna's Outpost, and her gift to Mizahar's people. It is a magical place full of potential and possibility where all can gather and exchange ideas and commerce.

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Postby Yomila on November 9th, 2020, 2:18 am

7th of Fall 520 AV

Ever since discovering the Outpost, Yomila found the days failed to last long enough, the sun always sinking below the horizon too early.

The Ethaefal had always lived for the night since her fall. For Leth. The moonlight and stars. The one time she could be the closest thing to her true form. To her God and His realm.

Night had always been when she felt right. Or, at least, closest to being right. To being what she was meant to be.

There was something about this new world beyond that lured and enchanted her. She longed for free time to explore it through the daylight bells. To see it in all its splendor. Things always did seem like a different world in daylight than they did at night.

She imagined it glinted under the sunlight, like a finely polished gem. Like the impossible blue-green of Mykom's eyes.

Her schedule had yet to allow it so she made due with the night.

There was still plenty to see.

There was still Tyri.

The Ethaefal couldn't shake the knowledge that part of this place's allure was that gilded woman.

The Fountain Square stretched out before her, dappled in firelight and shadows, and her silver eyes roamed it hungrily, searching, seeking. It was busier than it had been the first night she had visited, groups gathered around the odd performer, but that one individual she sought was not amongst them. The Ethaefal's full lips drew into a tight line.

Tyri had said she would find her first. Had she meant that?

Yomila's eyes followed the stretch of stalls that made up the Fountain Walk, most of which were in the process of packing up. The smells lingered, the warmth of spice and sharpness of citrus. She followed it, trying her best to envision the map Paul had given her, the route she would need to take to get to the Night Garden. She had poured over it before she had left Syliras for this very reason, wanting to be able to find that place Tyri had mentioned. Her eyes sought landmarks that had been on the map, indicators she was heading in the right direction. Part of her regretted not bringing the map with her.

Even if there was more to see, Tyri's words had her spellbound. The Ethaefal thought she was just being curious, but, really, it was much more than that. Her mind would not rest until she found the woman again.

Thankfully, after some subtle twists and turns, she found it. Or what she thought was it.

Before her was a section cut down into the stone. Like the Fountain Square, it was also dotted with cushions. Unlike the Square, it was far more intimate. It was smaller and, with space being limited, it meant people sat close together, the seating done in such a way that it made people group together. There was no getting away from your neighbors here, no personal space between patrons. Those present looked happy enough with this arrangement and a steady hum of their low conversations could be heard and felt as Yomila approached. The sound was complimented by the rhythmic percussion of two drums. It was dreamy and slow. The music hung in the air like a lure.

And there was Tyri. She danced to the drums in the minimal space provided, her body a finger span away from those seated nearby. She spun, fluid and smooth as a thread of silk in the breeze, and then stopped, golden eyes on the Ethaefal. Yomila saw her smile, saw the firelight flicker in her eyes.

Her breath caught.

The Ethaefal was a presence and she knew it. Her staggering height, her build, her skin radiating under Leth's light. But Tyri was extraordinary in her own way, all knowing eyes and cutting smiles wrapped in gold. Yomila sucked in a breath as the woman drew close, her hand extending, welcoming but not forcing. Asking to touch. The Ethaefal stepped into the gilded hand, permitting the touch.

"Bright star," she said, hand spanning over Yomila's arm. "We found each other again."

The Ethaefal smiled down at her.

"Do you hear the drums?" Her eyes beckoned Yomila to look past her to the entertainers but the Ethaefal did not break her gaze. "Dance with me," she crooned wantonly, risking a squeeze.

The trance broke. Yomila stiffened. Her silver eyes cast about, suddenly seeking a place to sequester herself. Most seats were occupied or required a closeness Yomila was not ready for. Her eyes swept back to Tyri's, "No."

Tyri's face rearranged, the brightness of delight pulling, pinching as hurt replaced it. Then she schooled it into pleasantness once more, smile on her painted lips. "That-"

Yomila interrupted, "Another time." The Ethaefal tried to sound earnest.

Tyri smiled and stroked the arm she was permitted to touch. She nodded and the glanced to the side, to a free seat nearby. Her eyes sought the Ethaefals, "Beautiful moon child, at least take a seat. Enjoy the company here. You do not need to be so alone." Her hand dropped to squeeze the Ethaefals, "Or so sad." This was near a whisper.

Yomila froze, silver eyes set hard.

Tyri stepped back, let the Ethaefal's hand slide from her own, breaking the connection between them. Her eyes turned once more to the seat and then to the woman in the one adjacent to it. One last encouraging look was sent in the Ethaefal's direction before she drifted gracefully towards the woman and extended her hand, "Perhaps you would like to dance, instead."

She did not see the hint of jealously that flickered in Yomila's eyes.

Tyri continued, "If not a dance then.. could I at least offer you some company?" Her topaz eyes shifted between the two women - the Ethaefal and this stranger with two-toned hair - but kept her focus on the latter, warm and welcoming with a touch of mischief.

Yomila approached begrudgingly. Her silver eyes swept over the other woman's pale face, her own upturned, forcing her to look down even more.

Beyond them, the drums continued to play and another woman - Kylia - hand begun to sway in Tyri's place.


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Postby Kelski on December 1st, 2020, 1:56 am

She ran with the wolves because of all the traits they shared, a love of running was a tie they could not break woven between them. It gave her an excuse to get out of her shop and under the stars. The wolves were a pack, though she was no part of it, still not accepted because she grew feathers instead of fur. Kelski did not mind. Her silver eyes were as fierce as their golden ones and her body was as hard honed as their own. They found no fault in her and did not begrudge her the pleasure of their nightly roaming.

It was a city though, so they did not trade two legs for four or even for wings. They ran as people, laughing and pushing themselves harder, weaving through crowds, darting across courtyards, and sometimes taking to the small walls that separated the Riads or small unique businesses of The Outpost. Kelski enjoyed the slap of her bare feet upon stone and the blur of the crowd as it passed. Her hair swirled around her, tangling in response to the weaving she did in and out of the crowd. The khamsin' blew hot, robbing the sweat off her skin the moment it put in an appearance.

The heat was oppressive, causing Kelski and the other Kelvics to be dressed lightly - iasus tank top in silver and thinly woven cotton pants that were gathered at the ankles in a darker grey than the night. A sash covered her waist, made of gauze and printed with swatches of the color of a severe sunset. She sometimes took the lead in their run, falling back other times to follow. The wolves either ignored her or tolerated her. It wasn't obvious which choice at first. They dressed alike and ran as a pack, but Kelski could still tell them apart. Kalis, Verr, Tass, Shoku, and Zentas - predators all five, though they did no hunting tonight. They just reveled in the freedom of a life well-lived. Their joy was tangible, silent, and as fleeting as their passage. It didn't much matter. Freedom had many forms, and The Outpost was one of them.

Kelski had liberated them from guard duty to her shop, a duty they took seriously until the locks secured the place and its magical intent took over. They often were found with her at night, when she wasn't spending time with Dessarian or working in her shop. But this night they'd come through the Night Garden, and Kelski had lingered when they'd passed on. They'd paused momentarily, dancing with those who were dancing, and Tass taking a moment to lay a bet with some dice. He'd played only casually until a woman had caught his eye and he'd wandered off into the darkness with her on his arm.

The jeweler expected no loyalty and had earned none. Wolves were wolves and she had the soul of a Sea Eagle. So she'd taken a seat when the pack had ended up here, then later, took a turn with the musicians on a borrowed violin as the wolves grew bored and moved on. She lingered, a tall glass of cold wine keeping her company as she watched others dance and mingle. People watching used to be a hobby of hers, one she didn't miss. She did, however, resent existing among people that didn't seem to be alive.

None of them felt awake, in the wonder of the world around them, and even danced like they were asleep, dwelling inside their heads and not extending their awareness out into their bodies. Kelski stretched out a bare toe, resettled on the cushion she was resting on, and brought a leg up to her chest where she wrapped an arm around it and used to rest her chin on. The Sea Eagle wiggled her toes and watched, her mind a million miles away towards home where the air was not super dried but instead laced with the hint of the sea.

It was time for her to go home.. home to Dess and home to her family. The Outpost was a nice diversion, a good business decision, but it wasn't a place of the soul. She wrapped her hand around the wineglass, lifted it to her black lips, and drank lightly of the cool liquid. The flavor of the grapes flooded her system and she appreciated the effort that had gone into making the vintage.

Silver eyes flicked around the Night Garden, lingered on the horned woman, and watched quietly as she arrived like a dervish and exchanged words with one of the dancers, available yet not. The Kelvic raised an eyebrow at the mixed messages and subtle words both spoken and not between the two women.

"I would not." Kelski said precisely as the woman extended an invite for her to dance to spite the other. The Sea Eagle was no one's tool and certainly not willing to get involved in whatever game these two played. Human or... rather inhuman games... were not her style.

She leaned back, took another sip of her wine, and lifted another eyebrow at the jealous one. "She baits you. You should sit and ignore such things. They are for children and the unintelligent." Kelski said thoughtfully with just a hint of candor.

"It can be a lethal mix, the jealousy and lack of forethought." She remarked, then gestured as a man passed by with sticks of freshly roasted meat still sizzling. She tossed him a coin for a pair of the treats and began nibbling on one as she continued to watch the horned woman.
They laugh at me because I am different.
I laugh at them because they are all the same.

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