11-21-2018, 01:06 PM
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 55%; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"][thank you quill!!]
The faint scent of iron wreathed around her, and curiosity filled the void in her chest. She almost laughed at that in spite of herself. The emptiness inside of her could never truly be removed by intense emotions of any kind. Her already cloudy eyes seemed more like overcast skies than ever before. The temptation to turn from this place was overwhelming, but she could feel the strings of fate tying her to these grounds. As she watched Agathe crest the land directly in front of her, Sybil wondered why it felt as though their courses were intertwined. The wind stirred gently, and Sybil let a murmur escape her. It felt as if the planets had aligned for this moment though she could not comprehend for what reasons.
Once the full visage of Agathe was in view, Sybil studied her carefully. She could not deny the tugging she felt on her own spirit, and the inaudible voices of the phantoms that trailed in her wake rose in a hauntingly beautiful chorus. It seemed her friends on the other side, the goddesses above, and fate had lead her to this time and place. She wondered why. Why was her presence needed here? Perhaps those here had no seer and no way to commune with the dead. Perhaps there was no one here versed in the art of healing. Perhaps this was some elaborate scheme, some joke played upon her by trickster wraiths. Though these thoughts whirled through her head, she couldn't help but feel as if she was supposed to be apart of something bigger here.
The question thrown her way pulled her from her mind. The cloaked femme wanted to know her name and business? Sybil's lips drew downward in a minute frown - or perhaps a grimace. Her voice was used for prophetic speech and seances only, and even then, she spoke with the tongues of others.
Her issue was cast aside momentarily as Papercrown moved forward. He presented her a happy, youthful smile. Though she was only a few months his elder, she felt so much older. She felt ancient, as if she had been lost to time and discovered years and years later, somehow in pristine condition. She simply offered him a nod in reply.
"Stranger in a strange land," she offered, after several moments. Her voice was rough and slow from disuse. "Speak once, then no more." The words seemed to echo in from another time period, and her accent lilted through her speech. "Sybil Morag. Here to stay."
The faint scent of iron wreathed around her, and curiosity filled the void in her chest. She almost laughed at that in spite of herself. The emptiness inside of her could never truly be removed by intense emotions of any kind. Her already cloudy eyes seemed more like overcast skies than ever before. The temptation to turn from this place was overwhelming, but she could feel the strings of fate tying her to these grounds. As she watched Agathe crest the land directly in front of her, Sybil wondered why it felt as though their courses were intertwined. The wind stirred gently, and Sybil let a murmur escape her. It felt as if the planets had aligned for this moment though she could not comprehend for what reasons.
Once the full visage of Agathe was in view, Sybil studied her carefully. She could not deny the tugging she felt on her own spirit, and the inaudible voices of the phantoms that trailed in her wake rose in a hauntingly beautiful chorus. It seemed her friends on the other side, the goddesses above, and fate had lead her to this time and place. She wondered why. Why was her presence needed here? Perhaps those here had no seer and no way to commune with the dead. Perhaps there was no one here versed in the art of healing. Perhaps this was some elaborate scheme, some joke played upon her by trickster wraiths. Though these thoughts whirled through her head, she couldn't help but feel as if she was supposed to be apart of something bigger here.
The question thrown her way pulled her from her mind. The cloaked femme wanted to know her name and business? Sybil's lips drew downward in a minute frown - or perhaps a grimace. Her voice was used for prophetic speech and seances only, and even then, she spoke with the tongues of others.
Her issue was cast aside momentarily as Papercrown moved forward. He presented her a happy, youthful smile. Though she was only a few months his elder, she felt so much older. She felt ancient, as if she had been lost to time and discovered years and years later, somehow in pristine condition. She simply offered him a nod in reply.
"Stranger in a strange land," she offered, after several moments. Her voice was rough and slow from disuse. "Speak once, then no more." The words seemed to echo in from another time period, and her accent lilted through her speech. "Sybil Morag. Here to stay."
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[glow=black,10,100]now she's gonna play and sing[/glow]
sybil morag | soothsayer | communicates telepathically | the ascendants | [url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=8885.msg0;boardseen#new]tags
[glow=black,1,100]and lock you in her heart