Post by ~Wraith~ on Sept 18, 2007 5:38:51 GMT -5
It roamed the inside of the structure. A playground for her with it's many shadows. It was curious. New spaces. But too much color moving about. Too much, and so she called out to her other. There was always beauty surrounding the other. Comforting coldness. If he could not find it, he could create it, just as he had created her.
Inside one space she went, and then another, climbing upwards inside the structure, weaving in and out of the stone walls almost playfully. Finally, near the study she found the hunter. He was the strongest and most powerful of the shadow wraiths, the most comforting. His attention was on that one that she too was drawn to, but avoided, for though she had not the instinct to kill this live one, he was still ugly to her sight. This ugly one she would obey if he made his wishes known. She did not understand, nor did she care .. why. It was as it was and so she obeyed. Do not attack that which we once destroyed. Destroy.... this was not what they did. They created beauty. The beauty of lifelessness. She hurt. She was confused and called out in her way. The hunter turned his attention to her only slightly, only because she called out. She had nothing for him, no purpose for him to react to her, so he turned back again toward the ugly one and waited. He did not understand her pain, nor did he care. He was stronger than she.
Confused by this constant waiting. Not able to do that which she had done since her creation, the seeker moved on to the other end of the bedchamber. Her movements caused a stir in the air and objects fell to the ground, making a noise. She looked down, but saw very little. She was the weaker wraith, and so she was curious. Her form came together and she solidified her upper half and bent over, her face nearly touching the floor before she could see the objects. But the objects made no sense. They had no purpose. Straightening up her form, her eyesight now more attuned to the living land, she realized she was inside a tall object and moved back away from it suddenly to get a better view. It was as tall as she was, but square on the upper half. Curiously it seemed to be an object within an object but she could not see detail, so, out of her weakness, she solidified even more so that she was standing on two feet. It was painful, and took much concentration. She could now see the living world with perfection, in black and white and what she gazed upon was a nearly finished portrait of a young man.
Ditto had entered the bedchamber and saw the young woman in front of the painting she'd been working on. The woman was naked and Ditto blinked, slightly shocked, and wondered why she was here. And why was she so intensely staring at the portrait of Daerauko? Lady Armunn cleared her throat to get the young woman's attention. She did.
The seeker turned to the noise and saw a live one in the doorway, the distraction causing her to lose her concentration and she slipped back into her wraith form. She wrapped herself around the easel like a snake around a vine. She had seen him. He was the object. But he was the hunter. She was confused. As the seeker's mind reeled, so she called out to the painting in confusion. She knew it would not call back but she was confused. He was the object but he was not. She called out loudly and desperately, her wraith voice sounding out it's desperation. Object is hunter. Hunter is object
Her noise of desperation was enough to get the hunter's attention for a moment. It was also enough to disturb not only Lord Armunn but everyone in the keep as well.
Ditto stood with her hands covering her sensitive ears, watching baffled, at the shadow wraith's dance around the easel. The painting rocked with the breeze brought on by the seeker and threatened to fall over. Over the loudness of the wraith's noise, Ditto yelled, "TAROTHIN!"
The seeker's mind still whirling with the pain and confusion, charged suddenly toward Ditto. She sensed the hunter move and knew what she must do. Just at the moment that she would have made impact with the live one, she melded suddenly into the shadows above Ditto.
To Ditto, it seemed the shadow wraith had exploded, and she stood dumbfounded, wondering what had just happened. Almost attacked, then ...nothing. The only evidence that anything had even happened was the easel and it's slowly subsiding rocking motion.
Inside one space she went, and then another, climbing upwards inside the structure, weaving in and out of the stone walls almost playfully. Finally, near the study she found the hunter. He was the strongest and most powerful of the shadow wraiths, the most comforting. His attention was on that one that she too was drawn to, but avoided, for though she had not the instinct to kill this live one, he was still ugly to her sight. This ugly one she would obey if he made his wishes known. She did not understand, nor did she care .. why. It was as it was and so she obeyed. Do not attack that which we once destroyed. Destroy.... this was not what they did. They created beauty. The beauty of lifelessness. She hurt. She was confused and called out in her way. The hunter turned his attention to her only slightly, only because she called out. She had nothing for him, no purpose for him to react to her, so he turned back again toward the ugly one and waited. He did not understand her pain, nor did he care. He was stronger than she.
Confused by this constant waiting. Not able to do that which she had done since her creation, the seeker moved on to the other end of the bedchamber. Her movements caused a stir in the air and objects fell to the ground, making a noise. She looked down, but saw very little. She was the weaker wraith, and so she was curious. Her form came together and she solidified her upper half and bent over, her face nearly touching the floor before she could see the objects. But the objects made no sense. They had no purpose. Straightening up her form, her eyesight now more attuned to the living land, she realized she was inside a tall object and moved back away from it suddenly to get a better view. It was as tall as she was, but square on the upper half. Curiously it seemed to be an object within an object but she could not see detail, so, out of her weakness, she solidified even more so that she was standing on two feet. It was painful, and took much concentration. She could now see the living world with perfection, in black and white and what she gazed upon was a nearly finished portrait of a young man.
Ditto had entered the bedchamber and saw the young woman in front of the painting she'd been working on. The woman was naked and Ditto blinked, slightly shocked, and wondered why she was here. And why was she so intensely staring at the portrait of Daerauko? Lady Armunn cleared her throat to get the young woman's attention. She did.
The seeker turned to the noise and saw a live one in the doorway, the distraction causing her to lose her concentration and she slipped back into her wraith form. She wrapped herself around the easel like a snake around a vine. She had seen him. He was the object. But he was the hunter. She was confused. As the seeker's mind reeled, so she called out to the painting in confusion. She knew it would not call back but she was confused. He was the object but he was not. She called out loudly and desperately, her wraith voice sounding out it's desperation. Object is hunter. Hunter is object
Her noise of desperation was enough to get the hunter's attention for a moment. It was also enough to disturb not only Lord Armunn but everyone in the keep as well.
Ditto stood with her hands covering her sensitive ears, watching baffled, at the shadow wraith's dance around the easel. The painting rocked with the breeze brought on by the seeker and threatened to fall over. Over the loudness of the wraith's noise, Ditto yelled, "TAROTHIN!"
The seeker's mind still whirling with the pain and confusion, charged suddenly toward Ditto. She sensed the hunter move and knew what she must do. Just at the moment that she would have made impact with the live one, she melded suddenly into the shadows above Ditto.
To Ditto, it seemed the shadow wraith had exploded, and she stood dumbfounded, wondering what had just happened. Almost attacked, then ...nothing. The only evidence that anything had even happened was the easel and it's slowly subsiding rocking motion.
