Watercolor Wonder

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Posting Elemental
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Re: Watercolor Wonder

Post by Songhue »

Confusion inside him, a strange feeling, but not unfamiliar. For a moment it was all overlapping; the meeting of them all, the questions of right now, the decision to seek that other and form a bond that came before any of it.

What could he mean, to ask if it was why he was called? Called? His bonded hadn't called to him, hadn't summoned him. That wasn't how it worked; it wasn't how any of this worked. Born of magic, born of ether, stepping forth as himself in full, that was the way of it. He'd taken some time, first, established himself as himself; learned some lessons in the making of who he was, who he is.

Then he'd chosen to bond. Not a popular choice, amongst some, but it seemed logical to him. Power and security, strength and safety, for the price of establishing a link; not much different than having a non-Serian as part of your circle, he had thought. Oh, it was different from that, yes, much more different to have someone that was tasked with your care. In a circle the bonds were shared, and there were perhaps those two that were supposed to see to the health of the circle as a whole, but it wasn't at all the same as this sort of belonging.

All of which didn't begin to touch his ease with causing harm. That was simply a part of who he was; nothing to do with his coming, with his choices. You could always find out how the various fleshes reacted, but beyond that there were simply times where something just needed to die.

Sometimes it was simple. Sometimes, things merely escalated. And in other instances it was a callous lack of patience. Plasma was missing a vital part of empathy, the ability to actually care if someone got hurt.

It didn't mean he was careless, of course; one need only reference his caution with the plasma overflow up to this point to see that. For him it was the equivalency of showing caution while walking with someone past a pool of acid, only to turn around and smack them hard enough to break their neck because they were a nuisance.

It was his modus operandi.

But then protection, also a new concept, also strange to him. He was supposed to protect, supposed to watch out for those that needed it; but protective was not a natural part of him. Possession could be, perhaps. He had never tried before, but it seemed to be the basis that the Warrior in their group operated upon. It was not so much a matter of caring, with that one, but of claiming.

Plasma understood claiming.

And he would certainly harm any that sought to harm the one he most wished to claim, the one that everyone got a secret little smile about; she would resist, would take convincing. Far too independent to simply agree, too fierce to be tamed. He would have to work for it; he had no doubt at all that he would manage.

Causing harm was already easy for him, but for her it would be easier still, as reflexive as breathing and given about as much thought.

But the words for all this would be hard to come by, hard to impress upon those that could not so casually destroy. It was a fundamental difference, something that may be beyond their ability to process.

Or perhaps not. There seemed not to be any fear, at least. Perhaps he was underestimating them.

Could be dangerous, to underestimate a thing.

If you're trying to ask if that's the motivation that drives me, he said, his gaze falling heavily on the stallion that had been first to speak, then the answer is no. My drive is power. It seemed likely that this is what the other had intended to ask; he had spoke of purpose, after all. And in truth, the vague curiosity on the various reactions to his element were focused solely on strengthening his knowledge, his abilities. He knew, for instance, that for some species even plasma was most effective when focused between the weak points between their scaled armor. That had been quite the interesting lesson. And one he counted as successful, as it ended with no true harm to himself.

He'd not stopped once to consider the toll he had taken on the population of the species; luckily there was a chance at recovery, as he hadn't completely wiped them out, but the very concept of such consideration had not once occurred to him.

And yes, he continued, turning that burnt-brown gaze to Reverie, I suppose I do. He would destroy something attacking the more breakable of his bondherd just as easily as anything else, so in that manner at least he protected. Normally it would be to end the distraction of such irritating noises; and normally, both the attacker and intended victim would be charred crispy. Distinguishing between the two wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience, he supposed.

As long as the intended victim promptly shut up and left afterwards.

You are silent, he observed, shifting his gaze to Lace once more. Strange creature, he kept thinking it, nothing that he could decipher in the way her brain worked. Failed experiment, with her. He accounted the other two as being a success; he'd learned a few things, enough to reach the ability to converse. In his own way, at least. The words could be so hard to find, at times, the right ones that would explain in full those things that seemed obvious to him. Others had difficulty making leaps through logic, he had found; connect each and every star, or the constellations were just so many sparks in the sky. If you are weary, perhaps you might rest.

Rest was beginning to sound appealing. It had been a full day.

Perhaps we all might rest, soon.

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Re: Watercolor Wonder

Post by Silverdust »

Quickfire flickers of confusion, the blunt edge of some set certainty. An echo of what he’d gotten from Reverie, on the question of the Link—That wasn’t how it worked; it wasn’t how any of this worked. So, in that, too, his circumstances seemed unique. Complicated beyond his knowing. Well, the night had turned into something of a self-discovery, though he’d not been looking for one.

The eyes fell to him, settled like a weight—he faltered slightly, as he’d felt Lace do, somewhere in that torrent. Couldn’t tell if it was reflex or memory that moved him.

My drive is power.

So, like Confetti in that, too. On the words, some distant ripple—a trail of little deaths, as the Warriors’ mare would say, her few words the closest, clearest things to what the Link sent lancing through his mind. Just the deaths, nothing more—if guilt held a shape, he would not learn it from the Ghost.

But then Reverie’s question took his focus, Lace’s silence his attention. Reticent shifted in place, feeling this body ache in protest—as if he’d run it long, frayed its nerves. Tension so finely strung and taking its toll. And while the Elemental could make that final statement sound less like a threat, it was sound in its directive.

That suits me. From this distance, they might not make the last pass of his eyes to each of them, the small nod with each pause. Your words were—well, they have given me much to think on. I bid you all a good night.

Still, some instinct didn’t want him to turn his back—but this form held to so many old drives. Fear, folly. They made his step slower than he’d liked, but that could also be the wear of the day. Troublesome, indeed.

((Sorry for holding everyone up! The end of the semester is getting crazy :dies: ))

Posting Goddess
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Re: Watercolor Wonder

Post by Vineda »

The meeting felt as though it were winding down. Lace seemed disinterested, biding her time until something caught her interest. The Ghost still seemed as though he might just bring the earth down around them yet, and this sinister detail of being made to harm did nothing to put her mind at ease. Somehow she didn’t doubt his control, aside from the leakage to the closest points of contact... An eye rested once again on the ground beneath his hooves. Given a peaceful day with no strife or a day with these turbulent fellows, she would certainly take the more exciting of the two.

He broke again into her musings, answering the question of his purpose. Power, eh? It was not something she troubled much over. Perhaps she would, were she like he and endowed with an element. Somehow the idea that he balanced out his harm with his protection pleased her a bit. The balance of it was somehow important, only fair. The way he spoke to her didn’t seem to invite more discussion on it. Likely he knew that it were no big deal to her one way or another.

Rest. It sounded nice, though she’d gone through no great strain here. There were some answers gleaned here though perhaps even more questions had also been released for her.

And then the mysterious one bid them farewell. She was yet intrigued, though she’d come to expect little in the way of clarity from him. Farewell she bid his already retreating form, hoping that the way of the Bond treated him well.

Her own stomach growled loud enough that she was sure it was overheard, and she glanced at the other two. Food and rest does sound good. Reverie wondered if the Ghost would rest here or on his own. Lace would probably follow suit. Shall we adjourn our meeting here? I think we have all been given plenty to ponder over.

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Re: Watercolor Wonder

Post by Aria »

It seemed her body language suggested boredom or fatigue. She hadn't meant to put on that face, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. She was neither bored nor fatigued, just simply content to listen. This world, these Serians, everything was new to her. Typically, one learned the most by observing and listening rather than talking everyone's ears off. Regardless, she had given the impression she was not interested and she needed to correct that. Oh, my apologies. My silence was merely to study and listen, nothing more, she replied softly, returning Plasma's gaze.

Everyone's attention was drawn to the fiery steed as he said his final words. Reticent stated that their conversation had given him plenty to ponder, and Lace agreed. Good night, she added after Reverie's farewell. The conversation was in fact, coming to a conclusion. At this point, Lace decided she'd need to get back up to her feet if she didn't want to be left alone in the field. As gracefully as she could, she lifted her front legs to brace her hooves against the soft soil, then shoved so her rear end would lift into the air. Straightening her legs, she gave a light nod at Reverie's suggestion.

Yes, let us call it an evening... she began, but was interrupted by a low, grumbling sound. Confused, she turned towards Reverie and realized the poor mare was hungry. Lace held back a giggle. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Plasma. Perhaps we will meet again soon, I'd like to learn more about you. she stated, offering a smirk his direction. The two of us will need to find some dinner before we retire. Take care. she said, and shot Reverie and amused look. She liked this one very much already. Her playful "rump bump," her light-hearted personality... Lace felt she might like someone like that around.

Unless Plasma had any last words to say, Lace would take her leave. She would walk with Reverie if she were welcomed, and the two could find something to eat. If Reverie had other plans, it was no bother. Lace would head on back to her homeland and settle in with her new family. Either way, the experience was quite a good one, she had met several new faces and learned quite a bit. Curiosity still tugged at her some. She wished to get to know the three others better, learn their stories, their ways. Another time.

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