Desreal: when we bleed we bleed the same ; enigma

Quiet as a shadow along the forest floor she was moving, a dark angel, a wraith of the night. Her illusive figure rippling in and out of the dense foliage with barely a sound, a figment of your imagination as the last traces of the setting sun’s light glimmered hopelessly on her deep obsidian coat. The weather was cold, but there was no snow blanketing the canopy of trees yet, just an icy wind that cut through her flesh and tore at her bones, but she was warm even then. The freezing temperatures of night were coming, but her fire was building inside of her the colder it got. Great billows of steam rolled out from her nostrils as she exhaled, evaporating into the crisp air just before another burst of hot air escaped her. Her warm breath probably was the only thing about her that was welcoming though, her icy gaze nearly as un-welcoming as the icy waters of the creek or the desolate blackness of the cold forest around her.

She’d been in Desreal for some time now, wandering the forest to escape the sun of the desert and seek the total darkness that came at nightfall. The desert was far too bright at night, the brilliant stars and the shimmering milky light of the moon left too much for the imagination, too much to think of when her mind wanted rest and peace. When she wanted to delve into the complete blackness, she found no refuge in the bright desert nights. She wanted solitude from life, from existence, she wanted peace in nothingness, she wanted to be left to breathe the breath of absolute darkness, the welcoming solitude of nullity. So here she was, in the vast land of the rogues, of the nobodies. And tonight, she was nothing. She was a shadow of the night, a figment of the mind, a wraith of the darkness. A dark angel.

Enigma was the last thing that Rogue wanted to find right now. She had hardly wanted company on her lone voyage into the night, but she supposed she’d rather come across a stranger than someone she knew. At least, someone who thought they were strangers.

She stood a bit away, blending into the shadows without difficulty, watching the large vanner with her deep black chocolate pools for a time before stepping out into enough light to be seen. Methodically she approached, her ruggedly beautiful chassis much smaller than Enigma’s, but very possibly nearly as strong. Her heavy powerful baroque build giving her a more compact poetic strength. The icy winds toyed with her tousled matted locks, giving life to her spanish silhouette as she moved. Incomprehensible, obscure, her facade was a careful mask of apathy. Her gaze was desolate and bleak, wrought with a stabbing pain that wound itself deep into her being. And yet they were harsh and almost cruel, mirrors that reflected nothing of her soul or emotions, only watched the world around them and penetrated your soul. And when she spoke, her voice matched her eyes very well. It was orotund, laced with a raspy inflection that both befitted her appearance and was almost appealing in its sound. She was a strange, almost frightening creature, but at the same time she had a elliptic charm to her that was appealing.

”Hello, Enigma.”

Yes, Rogue knew Enigma. She had watched her for a time now, spying on those of Andarin, finding her next prey to steal from them. To make the wolf kingdom weaker, to strengthen the land of the vipers. Which is when she had come across Enigma and had decided that she would be her chosen steal, though it had not succeeded. Ah well, she knew she’d make her next steal in due time. She only had to wait and watch. And for now she was interested in seeing how this stranger would take to being called by her name from someone she didn’t even know.

Rogue enjoyed mind games, she enjoyed watching others writhe in discomfort and be irked to frustration. It pleased her, it pleased the demons of her mind, the lurking monster that whispered to her. The creature she was becoming, the monstrosity that she was fighting. And as she called Enigma’s name, a shallow eery smile touched her velvet lips for a moment, before smoothing back into the blank slate of her emotionless expression.

rogue // espionage // fire I // ni’srilan