07-18-2017, 07:34 PM
Heavy. Upon being pulled to her feet Ebony felt heavy. Warmth. Vulre's gloved hand was warm. Like her scythe. Like a friend.
Her hand clenched around it, reluctant to let the heat source away from her and oblivious to the man's plight. Time passed quickly as she stood, absorbing the warmth like it was a food source. Like she was a starved panther lapping up all the meat from fallen antelope. Except, in this case, she was deprived of contact and her body would not relinquish it easily, even if her mind knew otherwise.
Speech. Ebony looked towards the womanly voice. Armour. Metal. Ebony blinked, she expected the armour to belong to a man. The shoulders were very broad. She shivered, relaxing her grip slightly.
Her name. The woman used her name, the name Ebony gave to Vulre. Who is she? Ebony shuffled away slightly, still holding onto the hand while speaking. "H-huh?"
Morene. The woman answered her unspoken question but more importantly alerted Ebony to the hunter's pain. Pain wasn't nice. Ebony was causing pain. Does that mean I'm not nice? I hope he doesn't hate me. Quickly, in a jerking motion, her arm recoiled.
"O-oh... sorry," Ebony exclaimed quietly afterwards.
She looked away, scared and ashamed.
Curiosity. Slowly she looked back, meeting Morene's eyes. It was easier now she didn't have to look up.
"You'll be alright, okay? Just breathe."
It was sound advice. Advice that had been given to Ebony before. The advice she had repeated to herself again and again and again since waking up in this dead place. Nonetheless, hearing someone else speak it settled her.
Her lungs sucked in air, pumping it in and out. Her heart thudded audibly, Ebony heard the booming in her ears.
Heavy.
Ebony was light. Very light. A small amount of mass. She was also strong. Fit. Well used, yet small, muscles with magic to assist. Yet she still felt so heavy. Gravity seemed to force her down much more than it should as her legs strained against the load. They wobbled and shifted slightly, knees bending towards each other. Hands retracted under the cloak, yet still ready to reach out should she fall.
But she didn't. She'd come far and she'd only go further. This was one of many tipping points - just a slight shift in the right direction and she'd slide down the slope easily. Well, more easily than it was to initially speak, or stand... or breathe.
A support. Something to lean on. Her scythe. That would be useful to Ebony's situation.
Tentatively, Ebony looked back towards Vulre while still considering her thoughts; he was still cradling his hand. What if he hated her? What if he thought she was mean? Should she hug him? People had hugged her when she got hurt. But what if she hurt him again by accident? It was all too complicated.
Metal clanked as the still crouched Morene extended her steel-clad hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ebony." She smiled lightly, trying to coax Ebony's arms out of her black prison.
Steel. Iron. Metal. It was cold. While initially reluctant to touch Vulre's leather glove due to the decor, similarly Ebony didn't want to place her fingers on the frigid metal. Reassuringly, her mind reminded her it was unlikely that she'd break the metal and likewise harm Morene's hand.
Her hand left her cloak slowly, travelling the short distance and lightly touching the metal as if it were a fragile piece glass. Morene's hand was relaxed, letting Ebony dominate the hold. It didn't last long, and Ebony barely gave the gauntlet a token shake before releasing her light hold. She blushed, face turning red from her tentative contact.
She wanted to speak. Make conversation. But being around new people was hard. It was confusing and made worse by the alien surroundings. What was she supposed to say? She'd given her name already and now wasn't the time to start telling anecdotes. Luckily, Morene made that choice for her while she played with the smooth interior of her cloak. Vulre remained silent as he watched.
"That's a very pretty cloak you've got. Did you make it yourself?"
It was a distraction. Something to take her mind the situation. To get Ebony to open up. Ebony was caught by it instantly. "It's not pretty." Her voice was soft and less shaky than before. Due to it not being muffled by her cloak and the close proximity between them, it almost sounded loud in contrast with her previous dialogue.
"Of course it is dear. I think it looks great." Understandably, Morene misinterpreted Ebony's statement as a lack of confidence. Which, while often true for the girl, wasn't the case in this instance.
"N-no. It's not p-pretty. I made it to be really c-cool." Ebony's voice shook at the slight conflict she started. She couldn't let Morene's incorrect ideas stand. Her attire was cool, awesome. Not pretty or cute or anything dumb like that. Quickly, Ebony made an attempt to change the subject to better explain her ideas. Now that the conversation ball was rolling, it made it much easier for her to speak. "Like my scythe. That's really cool."
"Your... scythe?" It was Morene's turn to look confused, if only for a short second. Ebony knew there were probably good reasons why everyone used swords or spears, but something about the crescent curved blade and rounded wooden staff resonated within her; it screamed, 'awesome'.
"Y-yeah. I can show you."
Morene nodded, perhaps considering the new prime might be about to use Omnilium. In actuality, Ebony was perfectly capable of creating her scythe with magic. She just needed confidence and concentration. Both were hard to collect, but it was doable in her current state. Vulre was watching with interest as Ebony steadied herself, shuffling backwards and keeping some distance from the pair. The white wearing soldiers were still idly standing by, both unsure of how to proceed.
A pair of frail looking arms extended from Ebony's cloak, harmless purple flames dripped from them as she repeated the familiar motions. Vocally, however, she had the option of choice which led to a slight hesitation before a previously spoken line was arbitrarily picked to be reused.
"Forces of the darkness, hear my plea. Grant me a weapon to stand side by side with thee."
From glowing, translucent, purple magic the weapon formed, leaving seemingly harmless flames in residue while she spun it in the air. Unlike her first attempt since coming to the Nexus, this one was successful. A weight she'd since become accustomed to felt like it was lifted from her shoulders as the familiar warmth of the enchanted ebony wood spread throughout her fingertips. She brought it close, leaning on the staff and almost hugging it as the mirrored silver blade drifted dangerously close to her head. Her now red eyes scanned the small crowd from under the dark hood, gauging reactions.
Her hand clenched around it, reluctant to let the heat source away from her and oblivious to the man's plight. Time passed quickly as she stood, absorbing the warmth like it was a food source. Like she was a starved panther lapping up all the meat from fallen antelope. Except, in this case, she was deprived of contact and her body would not relinquish it easily, even if her mind knew otherwise.
Speech. Ebony looked towards the womanly voice. Armour. Metal. Ebony blinked, she expected the armour to belong to a man. The shoulders were very broad. She shivered, relaxing her grip slightly.
Her name. The woman used her name, the name Ebony gave to Vulre. Who is she? Ebony shuffled away slightly, still holding onto the hand while speaking. "H-huh?"
Morene. The woman answered her unspoken question but more importantly alerted Ebony to the hunter's pain. Pain wasn't nice. Ebony was causing pain. Does that mean I'm not nice? I hope he doesn't hate me. Quickly, in a jerking motion, her arm recoiled.
"O-oh... sorry," Ebony exclaimed quietly afterwards.
She looked away, scared and ashamed.
Curiosity. Slowly she looked back, meeting Morene's eyes. It was easier now she didn't have to look up.
"You'll be alright, okay? Just breathe."
It was sound advice. Advice that had been given to Ebony before. The advice she had repeated to herself again and again and again since waking up in this dead place. Nonetheless, hearing someone else speak it settled her.
Her lungs sucked in air, pumping it in and out. Her heart thudded audibly, Ebony heard the booming in her ears.
Heavy.
Ebony was light. Very light. A small amount of mass. She was also strong. Fit. Well used, yet small, muscles with magic to assist. Yet she still felt so heavy. Gravity seemed to force her down much more than it should as her legs strained against the load. They wobbled and shifted slightly, knees bending towards each other. Hands retracted under the cloak, yet still ready to reach out should she fall.
But she didn't. She'd come far and she'd only go further. This was one of many tipping points - just a slight shift in the right direction and she'd slide down the slope easily. Well, more easily than it was to initially speak, or stand... or breathe.
A support. Something to lean on. Her scythe. That would be useful to Ebony's situation.
Tentatively, Ebony looked back towards Vulre while still considering her thoughts; he was still cradling his hand. What if he hated her? What if he thought she was mean? Should she hug him? People had hugged her when she got hurt. But what if she hurt him again by accident? It was all too complicated.
Metal clanked as the still crouched Morene extended her steel-clad hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ebony." She smiled lightly, trying to coax Ebony's arms out of her black prison.
Steel. Iron. Metal. It was cold. While initially reluctant to touch Vulre's leather glove due to the decor, similarly Ebony didn't want to place her fingers on the frigid metal. Reassuringly, her mind reminded her it was unlikely that she'd break the metal and likewise harm Morene's hand.
Her hand left her cloak slowly, travelling the short distance and lightly touching the metal as if it were a fragile piece glass. Morene's hand was relaxed, letting Ebony dominate the hold. It didn't last long, and Ebony barely gave the gauntlet a token shake before releasing her light hold. She blushed, face turning red from her tentative contact.
She wanted to speak. Make conversation. But being around new people was hard. It was confusing and made worse by the alien surroundings. What was she supposed to say? She'd given her name already and now wasn't the time to start telling anecdotes. Luckily, Morene made that choice for her while she played with the smooth interior of her cloak. Vulre remained silent as he watched.
"That's a very pretty cloak you've got. Did you make it yourself?"
It was a distraction. Something to take her mind the situation. To get Ebony to open up. Ebony was caught by it instantly. "It's not pretty." Her voice was soft and less shaky than before. Due to it not being muffled by her cloak and the close proximity between them, it almost sounded loud in contrast with her previous dialogue.
"Of course it is dear. I think it looks great." Understandably, Morene misinterpreted Ebony's statement as a lack of confidence. Which, while often true for the girl, wasn't the case in this instance.
"N-no. It's not p-pretty. I made it to be really c-cool." Ebony's voice shook at the slight conflict she started. She couldn't let Morene's incorrect ideas stand. Her attire was cool, awesome. Not pretty or cute or anything dumb like that. Quickly, Ebony made an attempt to change the subject to better explain her ideas. Now that the conversation ball was rolling, it made it much easier for her to speak. "Like my scythe. That's really cool."
"Your... scythe?" It was Morene's turn to look confused, if only for a short second. Ebony knew there were probably good reasons why everyone used swords or spears, but something about the crescent curved blade and rounded wooden staff resonated within her; it screamed, 'awesome'.
"Y-yeah. I can show you."
Morene nodded, perhaps considering the new prime might be about to use Omnilium. In actuality, Ebony was perfectly capable of creating her scythe with magic. She just needed confidence and concentration. Both were hard to collect, but it was doable in her current state. Vulre was watching with interest as Ebony steadied herself, shuffling backwards and keeping some distance from the pair. The white wearing soldiers were still idly standing by, both unsure of how to proceed.
A pair of frail looking arms extended from Ebony's cloak, harmless purple flames dripped from them as she repeated the familiar motions. Vocally, however, she had the option of choice which led to a slight hesitation before a previously spoken line was arbitrarily picked to be reused.
"Forces of the darkness, hear my plea. Grant me a weapon to stand side by side with thee."
From glowing, translucent, purple magic the weapon formed, leaving seemingly harmless flames in residue while she spun it in the air. Unlike her first attempt since coming to the Nexus, this one was successful. A weight she'd since become accustomed to felt like it was lifted from her shoulders as the familiar warmth of the enchanted ebony wood spread throughout her fingertips. She brought it close, leaning on the staff and almost hugging it as the mirrored silver blade drifted dangerously close to her head. Her now red eyes scanned the small crowd from under the dark hood, gauging reactions.
Quote:Author's physicy note. Metal isn't colder than wood or leather inherently. Cutlery at your house is going to be the same temperature as the table and the air usually. It just feels colder because it conducts heat from your warmer hands faster than the wood.
Although Ebony's scythe is actually warm (the pole is anyway). It's basically a portable radiator that also turns her eyes red.