we are the ring leaders
07-21-2014, 10:19 PM
The vixen was of confidence. She was the prime example of a woman. Nephele Elysius was vain, therefore every inch of her bodice was groomed to perfect. Her emotions were shown upon her sleeve. She was easily enraged, her venom easily produced. Yet, with most she held a smile. A smile saying 'I am perfect and I know it.' Yet she knew she was not perfect, but for others to believe she was or thought she was, was all she needed. The babe was quite illustrious and mysterious like a true woman should be. But, now that the babe had goals, she was much less focused on how others saw her normally, but now battle was what mattered. What others saw in her when she fought. Her skill. Everything that was what was going to matter within her stay in Elysium. For she was to become something great, she knew it. But, the gold marked heiress was not feeling perfect in those moments. The babe was covered in snow and her paws were being sucked into the earth with each step. It made her slightly grumpy and she was so focused on the cold that the presence of another went completely unnoticed. As the phantom slipped to her his baritone vocals filled the very brisk air, ?Why are you here?? Why was she here? The girl stopped to observe the creature who beckoned her. It was a boy of cursed form. An albino, or maybe not? Her cyan and purple eyes flipped over the cobalt and ebony bits of his face for a few moments. A rare being he was, a phantom of curses and deformity. But, she would not dwell on such for it was rude. The tyrant let forth her own luxurious vocals, now paused in the snow. "I was seeking adventure, this is my first time in the north. I do not know if I am one for it though. My pads are numb.. But, I do not wish to complain to a stranger who is obviously equiped for such extreme conditions." The babe was indeed quite the talker, for she was not done. "Pardon me, sire. My name is Nephele Elysius of Elysium." She would silently beckon for his name, not knowing if she would need to search for it or not. The lady was indeed intrigued but the cold has not fled from her bodice. speech |
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