flowers and salamanders: Elexia

[talking about our custom beasts, Tymaer and Dusan]

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "He is certainly... unfamiliar to me. I thought you would be more likely to have one of those peafowl."

The bright, bell-like voice of Elexia rings in your ear, "I do have a peahen, in fact! But, she is less keen on scrapping, so I tend to only have her about when the environment is safe. Tymaer's a more worldly fellow."

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "Hm... I see."

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "I do not believe I have met him since... And I do not think you have visited Dusan recently, no?"

The bright, bell-like voice of Elexia rings in your ear, "I haven't, no - I've seen him here and there, when you've had him deliver your teas, but he's so swift I see naught but a shadow."

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "Perhaps you would be amenable?"

The bright, bell-like voice of Elexia rings in your ear, "I think that can be arranged. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "Mm. It has been."

The bright, bell-like voice of Elexia rings in your ear, "Where would you like to have this meeting?"

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "Perhaps... we could begin in my manse. I believe there is a room you might find yourself most comfortable in."

Your soft voice reaches out to Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon, tickling their ear, "I am at the aetherplex, should you like to join me soon."

The bright, bell-like voice of Elexia rings in your ear, "That is agreeable to me, certainly."

A delicious sugary smell heralds the sudden entrance of Elexia, who appears in a puff of powdered sugar.
Tymaer, the dire salamander scuttles in from the ether.

Elexia begins to follow you.

LOOK ME
Skin the color of mauve-tinted ebon and spotted with dark, delicate freckles like inverted stars across a night sky, they are a nimble shadowcaster faeling wyrden demigod changeling. Their eyes are the most disarming thing about them, wide and liquid dark with black feathery lashes to frame them, just a bit too innocent to be real. Their nose is straight, turning up at the tip, while their dusty plum lips contain a multitude of sharp teeth. Their black hair frames their face in a smooth ebon curtain that ends at the bottom of their shoulder blades, a single braid being pulled into shape behind their left ear. Their body is broad for a faeling, standing no more than three feet tall, with elegant limbs. Their artist's hands are delicate, each slender finger tipped with a black claw; their fingers and toes abruptly darken to pitch black at the tips, leaving it difficult to discern where their digits stop and claws begin. Their ears are rather short, tapering to an elegant point, darkening to black at the very tips, and occasionally flicking to listen to any noise. Their long, slender wings are bisected, vaguely insectoid; the thin material is dark and slightly translucent, prone to trembling seemingly at random and giving an impression that they are less than solid. Their wings are oddly silent as they move, barely making a disturbance of the air with each beat. Tattooed on their chest is an illustration of a cadaverous ribcage overgrown with ravishing black roses. Shadows cling adoringly to them, reluctant to surrender their grasp on one with the truefavour of Nocht, the Silent.

They are wearing:
a circlet of the Shee-Slaugh house nestled firmly against the crown of their head
a phantasmal shroud of shadows worn loosely around their shoulders
a silky cloak of woven starlit night hanging off one shoulder
the Medallion of Nature hanging on a chain around their neck, resting lightly against their chest
a dark, layered ensemble with a pale sash
a shoulder-mounted onyx scabbard on their left shoulder
a wedding armband of eternal night resting on their left bicep
pale leather bracers
Ebon Prayer Beads of the Silent Lord looped around one wrist
the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree attached to their left forefinger

You portal to Ayaniya.
[pathing]

A humid nocturnal garden.                              (#AYANIYA_75)
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. The ground here grows soft and mossy, squishing softly beneath one's feet. Ravenwood and hemlock trees rise around the path, though taper out into a clearing. The clearing has been turned into a riotous garden of various nocturnal plants. Bioluminescent flowers glow varying shades of blue and purple, ranging from mauve to magenta and cornflower blue to periwinkle. Evening primroses grow across the ground and up stone and wooden pillars strategically placed through the garden. Each flower gives off a sweet, heady scent, intensifying during the dark of night. Tymaer, the dire salamander looks about here with wide, intelligent eyes.
You see exits leading north and east.

You have emoted: Esei's dark wings shudder as they circle Elexia, a sharpness to their dark gaze.

LOOK ELEXIA
She is a nimble faeling blossoming demigoddess and reaches about one and a half feet in height. Her skin is pale as the luminescent moon, almost shining in its lustre. Atop her head sits a fountain of silky night-hued hair with a simple lilac ribbon standing vigil from its perch on the back. The ebony locks cascade like a waterfall all the way to her waist. Beneath the inky tresses sits a heart-shaped face dominated by a pair of striking violet eyes. Long ears tapered to a fine point poke out through her sable hair on either side of her head. Black as a starless night sky, a pair of delicate butterfly wings sprout from her shoulders. When fanned to their fullest, the wings overtake her outstretched arms in their size. Her frame is slender and petite, with svelte legs ending in dainty little loam-dusted feet. Whether walking or flying, she glides about with energetic and almost erratic movements. Tattooed on her feet is an illustration of a sibylline seed. Fading in and out like flickering lights, clusters of ethereal mooncloak butterflies trail in her wake, heralding the blessings of Lisaera, the Silver Goddess.

Her sheer, sable hair is smooth and glossy, with long, even bangs. Her hair falls nearly to her waist in a silky curtain, perfectly straight and even.
She is wearing:
a translucent crystal bindi shimmering gently in prismatic colour upon her forehead
a reflective mark of Serenity about her neck on a simple chain
a rainbow flower brooch upon her sari
a satchel of turning seasons slung over her right shoulder
a silver wedding ring of growth on her right hand
a dainty bluebell chime anklet about her right ankle
a fur-lined mantle of frost wrapped warmly about her shoulders
a soft blue sari decorated with apple blossoms about her petite frame
an ethereal bluebell earring through her left ear
an ethereal bluebell earring through her right ear
the Flame of dae'Seren bound to her upper right arm by its chain

Elexia's hovering height matches about that of your standing height, and beneath her Tymaer, the dire salamander scuttles. The great amphibian watches his surroundings with apparent suspicion, and seems loathe to tread more than a foot or two away from his master's side. For the moment, the faeling herself attends to her surroundings. "Colourful," she remarks, the word carrying the air of approval.

You let loose a long breath from your lungs, exhaling slowly.

You have emoted: Esei alights softly on the ground, plucking one of the luminescent flowers from its stem. The flower does not fade, even as they hand it to Elexia. "Does it surprise you?" They whisper, tilting their head.

Elexia allows herself to touch down, her bare feet landing on the mossy ground below. Her eyes dart inquisitvely from one bloom to the next. She accepts the bloom without hesitation, and twirls it between her thumb and forefinger. "It doesn't, actually. You have always had an eye for beauty, at least insofar as it extends to the physical," she replies. She glances up at you, her own visage serene and unreadable. "Where's that wyvern of yours?" She asks next, then her pointed ears twitch. "Oh, there he is. I can scarce see him in this dark."

Elexia ponders a creature of starlit shadow thoughtfully, looking him up and down.
The large, felid shadow chatters softly at Elexia as he whiffs the air around her, exposing his many sharp teeth.

Curiousity in her tone, Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "What has happened to him? He looks a far cry different from what I recall."

Slinking close to the ground in a near-predatory move, a creature of starlit shadow circles Elexia, not unlike Esei had done before, whuffing faintly at her hair before retreating to a nearby flower bush.

Lilting in an atramentous, ethereal voice, you whisper, "Hm... He became what he was always meant to be."

Cocking their head the other way, you whisper, "Only physical beauty, dear Elexia?"

The sky achieves full shadow, a pitch black expanse with only a few gasping, drowning stars for light stretching overhead. There is but a gaping hole where the moon should reside, as if the astrological body has been torn from its orbit.
Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 23rd of Shanthin, 611 years after the Coming of Estarra.
There are 12 days until the New Moon

"What he was meant to be," Elexia repeats, her tone thoughtfuly as she examines a creature of starlit shadow from one angle, and then the other. As a creature of starlit shadow finishes circling, she attempts to circle him in turn, only less as a predator and more as a curious observer. She glances up to you, nodding simply as she says, "Yes, physical beauty. An eye for design, as well as for cooking and the like."

A creature of starlit shadow placidly watches Elexia circle, his body melting halfway into the shadows around him.

Lilting in an atramentous, ethereal voice, you whisper, "Hm... and what of spiritual beauty?"

Elexia ceases her inspection of a creature of starlit shadow, returning her attention to you. The faeling folds her hands behind her back and rocks back and forth on her heels in a casual manner as she chimes, "I believe it should not surprise you that I do not find much of what you believe and stand for appealing. Oh, there's shadows of truth in there - if you'll forgive the accidentally wordplay - but, I find much of it less than... agreeable."

Tymaer, the dire salamander paces anxiously behind Elexia. Its wide eyes survey a creature of starlit shadow with a mixture of curiousity and wariness.

You have emoted: Esei stares down at Elexia with a faintly raised brow. Dusan, in the background, rises from his position to lean closer to Tymaer.

Tymaer, the dire salamander huddles suddenly behind Elexia, looking much like an elephant attempting to conceal itself behind a tree.

Elexia pauses her rocking motion to glance up at you with a curious tilt of her head. "Do you not feel similarly about the virtues I, and my Commune, hold to be true?" she asks sincerely.

Lilting in an atramentous, ethereal voice, you whisper, "I fear I know rather little of your commune's true teachings, beyond your reverence of your ancestral spirits. It is not something I have made a great study of..."

Elexia tilts her head in the other direction this time, and a look of surprise flashes across her face. "Is that so? Perhaps, if such interests you, we should discuss those some time. Although, I think you would at least find our rejection of the Wyrd to be rather distasteful?" She speaks plainly, without any venom lacing her words.

You have emoted: Esei tilts their head up, the faint light catching on their circlet and making the seven-pointed star glint. "Of course," they whisper.

Elexia holds out her hands to either side as if to say "You see?" Then, she brings her hands back behind her, and allows her violet eyes to drift to the blooms once more. "Then I can't imagine you would deem our own Wood to be particularly to your liking, spiritually speaking," she says. "But, at the very least, we can both appreciate flowers."

Tymaer, the dire salamander peeks his head out from behind Elexia and glances up at her. A series of clicking noises come from his throat, and he glances over at you nervously before returning his black-eyed gaze to Elexia. She pauses, then shakes her head at the great salamander, who slinks back behind her.

Lilting in an atramentous, ethereal voice, you whisper, "Perhaps." Their attention wanders to the salamander attempting to hide behind a faeling much smaller than him. "Do you fear for him?"

"Oh, no. In spite of his trepidation, he's fairly formidable in a fight, and I'm here with him besides," Elexia says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He is simply a bit confused." She reaches a hand over to pet the slimy creature affectionately on his neck. "I believe he was wondering why we are not fighting already. He hasn't met you, of course, and his only previous experience with those of your Wood has been in less than peaceful settings. Timequakes, the like." She shrugs her shoulders.

Canting her head, Elexia Myeras-Silvermoon says, "Would you like to pet him?"

You hum thoughtfully.

You have emoted: Esei steps closer to Elexia, offering a relaxed palm-down hand to Tymaer.

Tymaer, the dire salamander's posture tenses, and his tails whips to the side in agitation. But Elexia whispers something soothing into the beast's ear, and it relucantly slinks forward to you.

You have emoted: Esei gently pats Tymaer once on the head.

As soon as your hand leaves his head, Tymaer, the dire salamander retreats behind Elexia once more. As if in warning, the salamander issues another issues of clicking sounds, and then a sharp, melodic note. His faeling master, for her part, looks down at him with a proud smile and pats his head in a consoling gesture. "Well done," she chimes to him, before turning her gaze to you once more.

You tilt your head curiously at Elexia.

Elexia folds her hands behind herself as she says, "I'm afraid, for now, it is about time for my meditations to begin. But, it was good to visit this place. You've done quite a job with your manse, Esei."

Lilting in an atramentous, ethereal voice, you whisper, "Very well."

[pathing out]