Johanna Galt
New Member
Stopping the World, One Motor at a Time
Posts: 4
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Post by Johanna Galt on Jul 29, 2012 21:15:46 GMT -5
Main Plot: None Sub Plot: Zenobia being Zenobia ...and searching for immortality
Initial Setting: On a well traveled road, heading toward a populated city
Notes: I don't do particularly long posts, and it has been a few years since I've rped.
SHE had the air of someone who did not belong. Her clothing, flowing robes that revealed too much and protected too little, lacked the dirt and grime one would expect of a traveler. Her fair visage held a poise that was meant for grandiose galas in manses far above the world below. She was a woman of obvious bearing. A woman whom, at a glance, was awfully alone.
Yet none of that affected her proud stride down the dusty road. The only sign of fatigue were a few beads on sweat on her brow. It was almost noon--she would make it before nightfall. Though a foreigner to these parts, she went forward with a purpose, as if she were heading somewhere beyond where the beige path and endless, cloudless sky met. As if she were going to accomplish something far beyond the realm of humanity...
...Which probably was not true.
Zenobia was glad for the lack of travelers. It made it easier to feel its presence. She couldn't see it... him, but she knew he was nearby. She should be able to see him as there were very few obstacles for him to hide behind, but he was not in sight. There were faint goosebumps on her flesh; it was cold but familiar; it was benign but malevolent; it was illogical but true.
It was better that no one could see him for he was not a pleasant creature to beheld.
So she briskly went on her course, seemingly alone, but Zenobia Argyris was never alone. Never Truly.
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Post by ✫ DIA on Jul 29, 2012 21:48:15 GMT -5
Kriany Belkovi ➢ Breed of Siblani ➢ 22 in "human" years ➢ ff6611
Kriany tied her tent up with a sigh, her weak body armor clinking as she tied the last string. Her fire had been put out earlier, its smoldering remains weakly puffing into the air and carrying its stale stench where ever the wind took it. She wasn't exactly human. Too tall for a human, yet too short for a giant, she tipped at 6'7" standing straight. Her body was covered in soft, thin golden fur; enough for it to be seen, but not enough to be obvious. Her ears were larger and slightly rounded, and her nose looked a little flat and square.
She seemed to be a crossbreed of some sick animal/human breeding. In all reality she was a Siblani, a type of lion being. She had the anthromorphic features of a lion, but had the inner workings of a human, with animal like skills. Granted, she was more human than animal, and had the same weaknesses of both types. Her hands were large and had thick fingers, her nails long and black, and her light brown hair was long and tied back with a sliver of string, exposing her slightly long neck. Her clothes were simple; a loose cotton shirt and a pair of pants that homed two long daggers.
Kriany had places to be, and she had to be there soon should the sun set before she arrives. Of course, with this she did tend to laze about when a schedule had to be kept. The lion being sighed to herself, mentally pushing herself away from her camp and onto the road. Once her tent and her belongings were put away, her fire was put out and any remains of her being there were mainly gone, she turned to the left and headed for the path that would take her where she needed to go.
As she stepped out onto the path, she turned her head to the side, and spotted a human. Or what could be taken as a human. She paused, unsure of how to go about this situation. Travelling alone and travelling often in the depth of night, seeing enough living soul often tricked Kriany into believing she could attempt to be social.
(ooc; long post! sorry!)
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Johanna Galt
New Member
Stopping the World, One Motor at a Time
Posts: 4
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Post by Johanna Galt on Aug 2, 2012 10:14:58 GMT -5
THERE was a sudden shift in the atmosphere; a lessening of the tension. Her charge was no longer felt... which could mean only one of two things. He had found something interesting and wandered or someone was nearby.
She remained calm, in an attempt to not make her suspicions apparent. She had no idea if this possible new person was hostile or not. Her breathing was even, her ears sharp, and she spared glances under the guise of stretching or observing the sky.
And then she saw. The creature was neither human or animal--lost somewhere in-between. However, she--for the leonine traveler appeared to be female--had the trappings of a human. She wore clothes, possessed tools and materials made by man... So the tall woman should be intelligent and be able to speak or otherwise converse with other people. For how else could she have acquired all of her gear?
But Zenobia was curious. Very curious. A normal person would make some sort of introduction, but she was no normal person. She shifted her palm outward, and then slowly raised it as if to rub the bridge of her nose, however, that was not the case. Zenobia had to do this in moments before her hesitance became too suspicious. She called forth faint magic to her eyes, but this time, she stared the lion-like woman down.
Zenobia was a necromancer, and she specialized in gleaning information from the dead. From her previous experiences, she knew that sometimes spirits gather around those of their own race... and she could faintly see a soul. Hopefully it was that same manner of being as that woman.
A faint wind rustled the weeds and stirred some dust. She gently rubbed her thumb over her lips. The breeze had not disturbed her hair or clothing. Then she spoke the the spirit.
"What are you?" Some people are able to hear her clearly when she speaks to the dead, yet others only hear gibberish, if anything at all. Her speculation was that people with an affinity for natural magic, necromancy, or just the dead in general, can hear her.
The spirit muttered a great number of things, most of which she couldn't fully understand. So... they likely have their own language...
She repeated her question with more force, but this time, she heard a faint answer before the spirit dispersed. Sibarani... Siblani....Sibrani... something like that, it seems. And then she cut off the magical ties. She probably took too long... probably.
"Well met," she stated, as if she hadn't just been idly standing there for many moments or likely mumbling incoherent utterances. Other people might have said more, but this foreigner wasn't particularly normal. But she had a feeling that neither was this sib-whatever.
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