08-03-2020, 11:24 PM
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[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]*･ﾟ✧ / BETA / 08 MONTHS
Georgia had an odd thing about fire.
She was born of the ocean, clearly; her element was water. The element of change, of healing, of life. Though it could be turbulent and unforgiving, it was what she knew, and what she trusted. Now, the thing about fire - it was almost like forbidden fruit for Georgia. There was only so far outside her domain she was willing to go, but fire was brilliant and warm and it danced. She would always be weary of it, watching from a distance, but her eyes would be filled with curiosity and some odd sort of longing. What would it be like, to touch those flames? To harness them? The allure of fire's power was strong, heavy and hot, and Georgia wanted so badly to know what it was like.
All these thoughts crossed her mind when she crossed paths with a very angry, spiteful, fire-spitting jaguar and a purple bonfire. It looked to be a nice setting, with blankets and pillows and things, but Georgia had heard the crashing of the palm trees and had seen the explosion of sparks into the sky. She watched, dubious, as Ry stared bitterly into the flames, and found herself frowning. She wasn't sure what sort of intentions he had, or why he was so pissed, but Georgia was hardly sure she could enjoy the heat of the fire in good conscience while knowing the boy was clearly blowing off steam.
Eyes roaming, she noticed Goldie, and a small arrow of safety lodged itself in Gia. If an injured, pregnant lady was willing to put herself in this scene, then surely it couldn't be that bad. Georgia would look again, just past Goldenluxury, and noticed Eulia, though she looked rather frightened. She knew the two to be brother and sister, and sort of hoped Ry would ease his tensions for his sister, because the other girl looked terrified, if the squeak that fell from her lips was any correct indication.
Georgia decided, against her better judgment, to flop onto one of the strewn about blankets, resigning herself to watching the purple flames skyrocket into the air. "Why are they purple?" The fawn somali asked, not really moving herself in any sort of way to indicate that she was talking to someone in particular.
She was born of the ocean, clearly; her element was water. The element of change, of healing, of life. Though it could be turbulent and unforgiving, it was what she knew, and what she trusted. Now, the thing about fire - it was almost like forbidden fruit for Georgia. There was only so far outside her domain she was willing to go, but fire was brilliant and warm and it danced. She would always be weary of it, watching from a distance, but her eyes would be filled with curiosity and some odd sort of longing. What would it be like, to touch those flames? To harness them? The allure of fire's power was strong, heavy and hot, and Georgia wanted so badly to know what it was like.
All these thoughts crossed her mind when she crossed paths with a very angry, spiteful, fire-spitting jaguar and a purple bonfire. It looked to be a nice setting, with blankets and pillows and things, but Georgia had heard the crashing of the palm trees and had seen the explosion of sparks into the sky. She watched, dubious, as Ry stared bitterly into the flames, and found herself frowning. She wasn't sure what sort of intentions he had, or why he was so pissed, but Georgia was hardly sure she could enjoy the heat of the fire in good conscience while knowing the boy was clearly blowing off steam.
Eyes roaming, she noticed Goldie, and a small arrow of safety lodged itself in Gia. If an injured, pregnant lady was willing to put herself in this scene, then surely it couldn't be that bad. Georgia would look again, just past Goldenluxury, and noticed Eulia, though she looked rather frightened. She knew the two to be brother and sister, and sort of hoped Ry would ease his tensions for his sister, because the other girl looked terrified, if the squeak that fell from her lips was any correct indication.
Georgia decided, against her better judgment, to flop onto one of the strewn about blankets, resigning herself to watching the purple flames skyrocket into the air. "Why are they purple?" The fawn somali asked, not really moving herself in any sort of way to indicate that she was talking to someone in particular.
© LEXASPERATED/APRICOT
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[glow=#3e4242,200,600]YOU ARE THE RITE OF MOVEMENT[/glow]
*:･ﾟ✧ — georgia sarris-rosi — demigod of the sea — tags