Change

[brighid]

It was Sunday, and had decided to take the day off. It wasn't much of a day off, however, because her objective had still been to paint; yet, instead of painting in areas near her apartment or in her apartment, she had decided to make a change in her daily routine and walk over to the Bellus Meadow on the outskirts of the city. She hadn't really been out of the city as far as she could remember, and so such a change brought a bit of excitement into her otherwise mundane lifestyle.

Brighid had left the house wearing clothes which would suit her for her needs. A plain, long wine hued tunic of a soft cotton was her shirt. Tunic had sleeves which were casually folded to reach her elbows, and it was not a form-fitting garment. Yet, the loose tunic show cased her lithe and graceful frame without much trouble. Her amulet of crysacola hung as always. Her slender legs were covered with a pair of dark, indigo-wash jeans, simple and pedestrian. Her shoes were her comfortable walking shoes: a pair of simple white flats of some cotton-like texture. Thus, although what she wore was simple, there was something about the way she presented herself, something about the way the ensemble had been composed that gave it the young woman her dressy air. Brighid did not care for the maker brands, but she new how to put clothing together to make herself look nice while saving what money she earned through her art.

She had left the house at eight o'clock in the morning, having woken up at six without a physical alarm clock. The clock was in her mind, awakening her at the same time every morning. She had taken her time getting ready, eating breakfast and packing a light lunch so that she could eat once she got there; she was planning on arriving at the meadows around noon or so, since she was taking her time. Rushing made no sense. It was her day off. Shoving her phone into her front right jean pocket, she had left the house holding her long, dark leather bag which carried in it her lunch and her art supplies.




Brighid stood near the meadows, looking out at the wide field of grass. It was a good, quiet day to be out. She had arrived on time, at noon, for she had taken her time moving through the city. She enjoyed looking through the stores and at the people as they hustled and bustled about. Although there had been plenty of people up and about this morning, she had noted that there was a sort of absence among the crowd as well. She did not quite understand why this was so, and so she kept the thought to herself so ponder upon at a later time. Today, she was going to relax.

The young woman sat herself down on the grass. She felt the blades crush beneath her. It was a pleasant sound, the sound of bright green and yellow swirling about. She surveyed the meadows quietly for a long time. Brighid closed her light green eyes, taking time to understand the depth of the silence, to analyse the various scents on the air which moved through calmly. Blue..turquoise... Green. She paused. Red. These were the emotions she experienced as she took in the atmosphere, became a part of it.

Brighid opened her eyes, a faint smile teasing her soft lips. Being out in nature was certainly very different. The atmosphere, while still warning at something hidden in the depths of the earth, was lighter here, and she found that she could think more easily. She took out her watercolor pallet and a covered cup which held cool water. Absently reaching into a pocket in the bag, she produced a brush and began to dab it in the water and through the paints. It was as if she were being controlled by something, and perhaps this was true.

The energy of her muse moved through her guiding her hand to create that which she felt. Colors began to appear on her watercolor paper pad, dancing in light strokes and playing in all the childlike glory of the bright green hues reminiscent of spring. She went on for several intense minutes before suddenly stopping, setting her brush in the cup of water and setting her pad aside. She did not look at it.

"Lunch time." She said it to no one, and yet to everyone. She was surrounded by many entities, the grasses and bugs which went about their daily rituals, and perhaps it was to them to whom she spoke. She reached in her bag and took out her lunch. It was a small Caesar salad and a small bowl of cherries.

[emiko]

Usually the Pier was the place you could find Anari, but today it seemed as though she had different plans. The smaller, more beautiful of her creatures was holding her captive today. It longed for a place just as beautiful as it was. Anari, innocent and gorgeous, wasn't going to deny herself the need of beauty. Today her outfit was a black corset and black jeans to go with it. She looked quite cute in it. It wasn't as revealing as her usual clothing, though it still didn't look like something someone as innocent as Anari would be wearing. Of course, anyone who saw her with Daimon wouldn't really believe that she was innocent. She had given Daimon her body for immortality. She would do just about anything for something she wanted. She was quite vain and loved compliment which was how Daimon had got to her. she would remain young and beautiful forever. She was glad for that, to be honest. How could she ever live without beauty? Today, her only flaw was covered by her pants. A small scar on her thigh was the only mark that tainted her otherwise flawless body. She hated it with a passion but it was bothering her less and less now. She had seen people with more scars than she could ever imagine and she couldn't understand how they could live their life with them. Luckily, she was protected. She didn't have to worry about gaining any more of them for the time being.

Innocent Anari had heard of a place called Bellus Meadow. Someone had told her that it held a beauty that nearly matched her own. Such a nice compliment she recieved, though she wanted to see the place that was almost as pretty as her. So, she asked for directions to the place and when she felt like going, she left her pretty home and went. Being the first time she had gone there she decided to take to her harpy eagle form to fly overhead, searching for the place by the name of Bellus Meadow. The large bird was obvious in the sky, you couldn't really see large birds like this in the city. She had a six foot wing span and weighed about eighteen pounds in this form. This was nothing compared to the reptile form she could take on, though. The crocodile was ten feet long and weighed a bit over a thousand pounds. She wasn't something people would want to mess with in that form, to be sure. Especially in the water. Not that Anari would attack people, though it was hard to keep her animal instincts in check. She was too sweet to want to hurt anyone, though. She wouldn't protect them either. She would rarely protect herself, she usually had others do it for her. She couldn't be expected to fight to save her own life. Not to say she wouldn't defend herself if she needed it.

That morning she took the usual time to get ready. Forever. Anari could spend hours perfecting the way she looked. So it wasn't a suprise that when she landed down in the meadow and changed back into her human form that she was just as beautiful as ever. One of the reasons Daimon kept her was because she was beautiful and because she was so innocent, so pure. He could not corrupt her. Anari should have been an angel, it would have fit her better. Those curious, though knowing eyes were the proof of that. Though innocent, she wasn't gullible. She was polite, mostly well-spoken and kind. She didn't like to fight and she could usually talk herself out of a bad situation. She didn't like negative emotions, she couldn't stand being around people who caused problems. She was a smart woman and wouldn't let others take advantage of her. She seemed almost shy when you first saw her, despite the way she dressed most of the time. Her long black hair was kept up in a purple ribbon. Her grey eyes were calm and collected, curious and holding intelligence. She held herself well, not like she thought she was better than anyone but as if she was confident. She was not worried about anything at the moment, either. The young woman wasn't self-conscious in the least bit, though she did fear looking bad in front of others. Not that it happened very often, of course.

Her sharp senses allowed her to smell everything about the place she had arrived at. It was quiet, calm, a place she knew she could come to be alone. She usually loved to be alone and this was one of those times. She could hear small birds chirping nearby and she smiled at the sound. Her eyes moved over the meadow, taking in every little flash of color. The plants seemed to wave at her and she only smiled to them. she moved through them, almost seeming afraid to crush a pretty flower beneath her feet. She had to agree that this place was beautiful. She could see herself visiting it quite often in the future. Of course, it could not compare to the home that Daimon had shown her before. She hadn't seen anything quite as beautiful. She was jealous of it, to be honest. Sure, her home was beautiful but the place she had shown her...she had no words for it. Also, the view was beyond beautiful. She couldn't figure out why he could have such pretty things. He even had her. Anari would do anything for her angel. She would give him the world if she could. She would never change because she knew he loved how innocent and pure she was. She would stay this young, this beautiful, this innocent for the rest of her long, immortal life. She wouldn't let anyone corrupt her pretty soul.

It was in the middle of this thought that she came across someone else in this meadow she had come to explore. Of course, she didn't mind the company even though she was slightly afraid of the other person attacking her. But, the woman seemed to be human. Anari was quite a ways away from the woman and she brought herself closer. She was slightly curious as to what the human was doing out here alone. It was unsafe for humans, though the woman probably didn't know that. Not many of them knew about the creatures that roamed their city streets. Luckily, Anari was not here to eat her or drink her blood. Or to take her as a slave. Perhaps make friends, if anything. Anari was probably the least dangerous person someone could come across, to be honest. When angry she could get loud and say things she dind't mean but you would rarely hear a bad word come from her mouth. She would blush at naughty things, get uncomfortable around talk of killing and such. She had fought at least once though. Some fights you just couldn't get out of, it seemed. A fight with a crocodile was one that was hard to escape. The female croc had dug her teeth into Anari's hind leg and tore across it. Luckily Anari escaped. Being a crodile herself she knew the female wouldn't give up. Thank god for a bird form.

Now she was near the human, her footsteps silent and perhaps unheard. She really didn't have the intention of interrupting this womans lunch, though she seemed to have come at that time. Anari came up beside her, eyes on the painting the woman was doing. She smiled sweetly, looking over at the human. "I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt your lunch," she said softly. Her grey eyes were still calm and at this point held a small bit of guilt. She had not meant to interrupt. As she looked over this woman she had to admit she was quite beautiful. Anari was almost jealous. Anari didn't talk much, though she found it only polite to speak to this woman she had come upon. Besides, it was about time to meet new people anyway. "I am Anari," she introduced herself with kindness in her voice. Just by looking at her you would know she meant no harm. She wasn't here to cause problems. The weather was nice for the time being, seeing as Anari was in a good mood. It was warm and there seemed to be no sign of rain. Shapeshifters had the ability to control some of the weather, though not much. It really went with their emotions so when Anari was sad it tended to rain a bit. Today, though, was calm.

[brighid]

Gingerly stabbing the small silver fork into a piece of lettuce, Brighid began her meal. The young woman chewed quietly on the vegetable, taking in the sharp flavor with pleasure. Such small things could induce such an emotion. With scents, flavors, textures, and sounds came emotions and color. That was how she viewed the world. It was very abstract, but made complete sense to her. However, this aspect of hers made it somewhat difficult for her to convey to others, and she knew that there were times when she was trying to relate with another that they found her to be strange and without personal boundaries. This was because the emotions and abstract colors she associated with anything and everything, she became attached to others extremely quickly, and there were times when these attractions were negative. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why Brighid had became so distant and socially awkward; there had been a time when she was very young, and she had come to hate one of her classmates at school with such great passion that her own thoughts became poison for her. Fortunately, Brighid had realized this before she displayed such a strong emotion physically. Although she still became quite attached easily, Brighid had made sure that she did not come across too many people.

Emotionally, Brighid became very involved in everything. Thus, having such a negative emotion toward anything hurt her immensely. She would withdraw into psychological darkness, avoiding others at the cost of her own mental health. She had found an outlet, though: art. As long as she remained on her own most of the time, she could express her emotions through colors, as her mind did. Brighid honestly did not mind solitude at all. She found it peaceful, quiet, simple. It was easier for her to not become emotionally involved with others; but there was somewhere deep inside her, hidden, a great pain and loneliness. Maybe this was a reason that she had decided to come out. There were so many entities with which she could connect: the plants, the animals, the earth. The greatest source of her emotional connections was the auras of those around her. She could neither see nor manipulate them, but she could sense them, and that was how she connected with others. That was why she never had much to say. Their auras, their spirits, would do the talking for them. Merely being in a room with someone was a wonderful experience enough that Brighid would leave feeling as though she had just participated in a wild party. And that was why she had never been to a real party. Besides that, there were too many auras, too many people, and too many opportunities to become hurt.

Here, in the meadow, there was only the silence of all the spirits of both biotic and abiotic factors of the world. Brighid sighed, her thoughts returning to her lunch. Often one thought would lead to a deep meditation on the origin of her being, who she was, why she was. She continued to eat, enjoying the food, enjoying the simple flavors of the lettuce, the dressing, and the croutons. She absently licked a bit of dressing that had got on her lips, the pink organ coming out to clean up the mess. As she finished the salad, she released a small sound of content, leaving the fork in the container and putting the lid on it before putting it back into her bag. She relaxed for a moment, leaning back on her hands, her legs in front of her, spread slightly. She enjoyed the colors of the meadow. Pleasant.

Somewhere far in the distance, she could see something. She squinted, straining her eyes to see what it was. Suddenly, there was nothing beuther and the creature. A beautiful russet Reynard, male fox. There was a brief moment when their eyes met, and despite the great distance, both the woman and the fox were aware of each other. Silver. Love. Crimson. There was a strange intelligence, as if the fox were trying to tell her something. There was a tinge of a light lavender in those copper eyes, and they were beautiful. The fox turned, then, and disappeared on the horizon. Brighid continued to stare, a bit dazed, although there was no longer anything there. A voice brought her back to reality. The woman turned her cool, green eyes, her hand absently touching her crysacola pendant.

There was a pleasantly beautiful woman standing before her. Unlike Brighid, this woman was complicated, it appeared. There was a great amount of intricacies in the woman’s aura, she sensed. Brighid had not heard her approach, but perhaps that had been due to her experience with the fox… was it a fox? Brighid brought her thoughts back quickly before she wandered too far. Brighid smiled at her, shaking her head slightly. “Oh no! It’s perfectly fine; I don’t mind at all.” Her alto voice fluttered in the air, mimicking her good mood. Brighid met her eyes, and was stunned by their beauty. A delightful grey… calm, cool, pleasant. They seemed to be telling her about the girl’s personality. But wait; there were flecks of… brown? Maybe a honey? Perhaps she was more than the mellow personality that presented herself to Brighid. Perhaps, but she could not be sure.

Brighid stood to meet the girl’s height, feeling it polite to do so. She realized, then, that she had at one point grabbed the container of cherries and was still holding it. When did that happen? she wondered, but quickly dismissed it. There were more important matters at hand. The girl introduced herself as Anari. A strange but very beautiful name. Immediately, Brighid felt drawn toward Anari’s personality, as if the name had given her permission to do so. “Anari,” she repeated as if weighing the magnificence of the name. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you. I’m Brighid. I just came here to do a little painting. And what a nice day it is, don’t you agree? I was lucky with the weather.” Usually, Brighid was not as talkative, but the comfort she felt in Anari’s presence allowed her to feel that way and open up like a morning glory in the sun’s warmth.

[feathers2]

How she had gone this long without attracting an owner was far beyond pretty Rusalka. There had been those who were interested from time to time, sure, but no one had stuck around. Sometimes she felt like there was something wrong with her, but the feeling didn't usually last. Of course there was nothing wrong-- she was a faerie, people just didn't understand her type. It was hard, after all, to keep up with someone who was naturally hard to keep up with. Who would want something like that as a slave? Ah, well. At least she knew how to manipulate them in the pens. And they didn't mind letting her out now and then. She came back, after all. Unless she skipped town completely, they'd find her and beat her if she didn't. Beatings were bad, but the pens weren't completely abhorrent, and besides that the more she went out the more likely she was to attract a potential buyer. Like her own walking advertisement.

Today was a very nice day. Warm and sunny and beautiful, with the sky a watercolor of blue and fluffy white, and right around noon. Ruse was out for a picnic today, after a nice little flight over town. She wore a backless yellow silk top to allow her large, beautiful luna-moth wings some air as she went. The little gossamer things were not, of course, the engines of flight physically, but they were magically imperative. And so, the dainty little woman floated her way out of the smog and buildings and off into the surrounding countryside. It was very pleasant out beyond the concrete jungle, and although Ruse had become something of a street-savvy little technofairy, there was nothing like going back to one's roots. And for a girl like Rusalka, her roots were flower roots.

Where better to find flowers than that pretty Bellus Meadow? It was always aglow with colors, pinks and purples and yellows set among vibrant green. She floated down airily, her hair, black today and short, wafting around her face in the very light, pleasant breeze that kept the sweat from beading on her face. She wore a little sundress, very white and lacy and nice, easily covering her petite figure and much-bemoaned flat chest. Fairies had never been a particularly buxom race. Unlike, of course, their complete opposite the vampiir, who always seemed to be falling out of their gothic ballgowns. The fairy gave a little private snort of amusement as she touched down to the grass, sober for once, picnic basked in the crook of one bent arm.

She gave a cursory glance around the little meadow as she alighted there, her sky-colored eyes sharp as cat's claws. And then, she heard a noise and turned 180 degrees around to find the culprit...
a fieldmouse. "Oh! 'Lo there. Sup, lil one? How's the fam?" Who else but Rusalka the fairy had streetspeak-filled conversations with wild rodents? And naturally, she understood it's reply to her. It was a strange talent, but she was like that. An unpredictable, delicate, and beautiful creature that spoke to other unpredictable, delicate and beautiful creatures. <Hungry, fairy. You should leave some of your lunch for them.> She'd chuckle at this, bending somewhat at the waist to see the little mouse, quite unafraid of her, that watched her with quick black eyes. "Oh, honey, I don't do pro bono stuff. You got somethin' for me?" She smirked at him, a childlike face, but one not overwhelmingly concerned with the well-being of a family of mice. The fae was, on the other hand, always willing to trade. Tit-for-tat was naturally her motto, as one of the few truly neutrally-aligned sorts wandering around. <I'll tell you there's a human woman here, and that devil-bird eagle that just flew overhead turns out is actually a shapeshifter. They're over northways having lunch or something, the jay was calling. Do I smell cheese and crackers in your basket, fairy?>

Rusalka straightened to her full height, to turn in the direction the rodent had indicated. Ah! He wasn't lying. They were oddly hard to see amid the great masses of swaying flowers, some quite tall, and so Ruse had missed them at first. She knelt down, then, set down her basket and true to her word, pulled out two Ritz crackers and a small cube of cheese for the mouse. "Smart lil one, aren'cha? Don't let the sparrows get your prize, mouse." It was an impartial warning that Rusalka used as a farewell; she had never been one to dally with pleasantries, especially not when there was something she was curious about. And this odd couple of human and eagle-shifter had piqued her curiousity...especially since a lunch in the meadow was always quite nice with some easy company.

And what was easier that strangers? She tiptoed her way easily through the little wild garden, her tiny feet never crushing a flower, only hovering over them lightly. She was not an unduly small thing, like the pixies of human storybooks, but Ruse was quite a small little woman, sometimes mistaken for a child with a woman's face. Unfortunately, the fae had a sailor's tongue and taste for booze as well. She hadn't brought any today, though, besides a spot of dandelion wine...but honestly, the little fairy beverage was hardly dizzying, mostly just sweet and light, like drinking sunshine or something equally fluffy and fae-like. Rusalka approached the pair of lunchtime sojourners, an appraising smile curving her pretty little mouth. They seemed nice enough, like they'd just been speaking. She half-curtseyed when their attention was on her, her floral slave-bracelet and choker twinkling silver in the sun. "Heya, strangers. Mind more company for lunch? Promise not to mooch." Not really the first thing you'd expect to hear from the mouth of a fairy in a sundress in a field of flowers, but that was how she rolled.