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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Rooftop Observation | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 5 2009, 06:02 PM (474 Views) | |
| Griffin Reeve | Jan 25 2009, 10:45 AM Post #26 |
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Soul stared after her helplessly as she left, not even giving him a chance to respond. Clearly his word didn't matter much, but he'd already come to accept that long before Freya had ever entered his life. All the same, he felt rather... left in the dark. What was that odd woman up to anyway? He shrugged it off, eyes still glued to her departing figure as she took to the other roof. While there, she'd slipped, and Soul had risen in response to it. Watching her fall was like watching an impending collision: he was unable to do anything, but couldn't take his eyes off it. But then, she was gone, off to do whatever she had intended to do with him left behind. Now he was alone. Completely alone. It was just what he was used to; that comfortable solitude to which he had grown accustomed. Yet it felt... different somehow. Like a good part of his night was missing, and that brief flash of concern wouldn't leave his mind. For a good moment he was worried about her when she fell- she, another human, to which he had separated himself and intentionally held no attachment. Somehow she'd managed to ensnare him without his noticing, and even as she'd left he remained in her grasp. How had she managed this in such a short amount of time? This was his chance now to get away, there was nothing keeping him there. He could run, and return to his darkness. The forest welcomed him with little more than the light of the stars; but he did not feel like returning there. By some means he had become chained, rooted to the roof in dutiful wait as he sought Freya's return. He couldn't understand it- any of it. Why was he still there? Unable to keep still on account of the questions eating at his mind, Soul wandered around, but never left that roof. Before he knew it, he was sitting at the edge with his feet dangling over the side, staring down into the street. Behind him he could feel the weight as another joined him on the desolate rooftop, and he didn't bother to lift his head and look. Only one other would likely happen themselves upon that roof: Freya had returned. "Mid-darkness... the day-dwellers are drifting off now, huh?" |
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| Freya LaShale | Jan 26 2009, 02:41 AM Post #27 |
Love Thief
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"Indeed they are - which is good for meeeee!" she hopped up and trotted over to him in a half-gallop. She had a bundle of stolen items in her arms. Lots of black fabric, and nestled somewhere in there, a vial of black liquid. Sitting down beside him with a bit of a grunt, she set the items down on her lap and turned her head to face him, baring a huge, beaming grin. "Sir! You have somehow, miraculously captured my fancy! As your reward (and please don't throw these down on the round like you did my apple), gifts!" She picked up the glass vial and held it out for him. "This is not ink. It's permanent. Well... for as long as your hair doesn't grow out. If you ever wanna know where to get it, most tailors carry it, like any other kind of dye. Aaand..." She held up one of the pieces of fabric, "...new clothes. Er... it's just a shirt and pants and I didn't really check the style before I grabbed them - it was dark where I was and I'm not a darkling like you. Not to mention, there's a time limit to my little smash and grab jobs. Meh..." she threw the shirt at him, "...nobody's going to miss these." Now he didn't have to run around a filthy mess unless he really really wanted to, but Freya, herself, was a big fan of hygiene, and just thinking about how bad he would look in the light made her squirm. At least he didn't smell too badly. She wouldn't have stuck around for two seconds otherwise. "You know, Soul, I actually only half expected to find you when I got back up here." |
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| Griffin Reeve | Jan 28 2009, 03:29 PM Post #28 |
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Soul looked up at her as she spoke, making no other motion otherwise. He eyed the bundle she carried silently, already figuring just how it was attained. Not that he cared- and why should he? The lives of other people wasn't his business nor concern. It had nothing to do with him. Not until now. He stared at the vial she held curiously before reaching to gently take it between his fingers. The fluid was pitch black like ink, but lacked his temporary dye's thick texture. Hearing its true identity, he tugged a bit at his own hair, staring at its matted state. With dye he wouldn't have to worry about it washing out and he could surely keep it slightly more groomed than he'd been; assuredly it would continue to be messy, but at the very least it would no longer be a matted and gunked-up mess. It wouldn't stain anymore either, once it had settled into his unruly strands. There was little in warning before he had a shirt thrown at him, his pale eyes fixated on the contents of the vial. Blinking at the fabric in a moment of confusion, Soul awkwardly shrugged it off before pulling it into his own lap. One hand drew its fingers across the cloth, feeling with uncultured hands the decidedly soft fabric. It felt better than what he was wearing then, as his own clothes had gone rough and were coming threadbare from constant use. All the same, Soul's attention returned to the vial. Of the gifts Freya had brought him, he was most appreciative of that one. He shook it a little, watching the liquid sway from side to side. "I... guess I'll have to wash my hair out soon." Parting his attention from the precious fluid, Soul's eyes sought Freya's with an inquiring stare. He couldn't understand it... why? For what reason had she'd wasted time on him? And even... why return? There was nothing special about himself. "Why? Why go to that effort for me?" He just didn't understand. |
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| Freya LaShale | Jan 30 2009, 02:39 AM Post #29 |
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Love Thief
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His entrancement connected to the vial amused her. Eventually, she found herself staring as well, until he spoke. Her opinion of him had gone from boring and rude to a lost puppy dog in such a short amount of time, but all he ever had to do was drop his guard a little, just enough to let her inside, something she wasn't quite sure if it would lead to disaster for him eventually. She gave him an assuring smile, "Maybe I just want to see you clean..." she purred, disregarding his warnings not to touch his hair as she reached up to play with a thick, matted lock near his face. The hand slid down, fingertips running faint lines of black down his already smudged cheek. Her touch, this time, came with a nudge, attempting to turn his face in her direction. Her next action was blurred between the lines of innocence and a little more greed as she pressed her lips to that cheek, a simple a quick peck. She would not give him time to panic on her again. Her hand fell down and her body rose, taking a stand on the roof yet again. She gave him a lingering glance before speaking. "I'll leave you with that, Soul. I hope you learn a few more things before you really decide your life. It seems like you've been making excuses to be angry... but it never has to be that way, even if the world turns its back on you." Freya began, turning her back to him on the edge of the roof. If he called her back, she may return, considering she didn't wholly know where she was going next, but she may have just burned that bridge with her impulsiveness. No, she didn't mind his company at all, but she knew that she still wouldn't find what she sought here. He was much too innocent. |
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