Posted by albatross; on September 14, 2008, 9:18 pm, in reply to "albatross"
67.183.104.76
Receiving pain is something Albatross is not familiar with nor probably ever will be, the last man who tried to get close ended up getting thrown down onto the ground and – for a lack of better words – sent home with his nuts in a sling. The thought sends a deviant flare of gold across her pretty jade green eyes as she watches Elemmire show herself. For now, she controls herself. For now, she remains at a safe distance. For now, Albatross says nothing as her teacher greets her and moves forward to which Albatross takes a small step backwards from. No hard feelings Elemmire, but she is her Father’s daughter and if they are anything alike it is in the sense that neither of them can trust anyone—not even themselves.
Perhaps this is where she will fail as a scholar.
Then again, no one ever said that all Oracles and Seers and things were good, right?
Albatross observes from a safe distance, her winds flip and curl around her with hunger at the feel of Earth so close. She is not stupid and she will not sic the element after her teacher who, she finds beautiful in all of the raw wilderness that she is. The girl sees herself in the older mare in the same aspect that both of them appear wild the way horses should. Albatross, Windchant, she is feral with her fresh blood hair and body, with her feline green eyes, and her sultry ever-knowing grin. The thing is, she doesn’t know everything and so that is why she is here.
When Elemmire asks her if she would rather give pain or take it, the grin lessens but the answer will forevermore be the same no matter what.
“Either of them.” Her voice is a plume of thick opium smoke which curls into nothingness as she engages into the conversation. Albatross takes a fluid stride forward, her preternatural gaze sheening like liquid gold mirrors as they observe her teacher from underneath a raging red cinnamon forelock. Wild child, what have you done?
“Of course, I wouldn’t just let someone hurt me, only if I wanted to hurt them in return.” A pause, she rolls a shoulder and lifts her chin so that more pronounced features of her body can shine in all of its visceral beauty. “Reciprocation,” she says darkly, “I do believe in revenge, but if it’s reciprocation—then it’s just.”
She barely lets another moment pass before taking another curious step forward, “as for natural instinct I will be honest with you, Elemmire, I’d rather hurt someone and not because I’m afraid, but because I enjoy the sweet elucidation of savage, meaningless aggression.”
Otep, for the win.
And Albatross goes silent, wondering if she has disappointed yet another, it seems that this is all she is good at. Honesty is not always the best policy apparently, but she’s not about to shave off half her personality just to make friends or succeed.
Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame.
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