Post by Birdie on Aug 9, 2007 23:57:56 GMT -5
((This is supposed to be, more or less, a happy go lucky sort of thread. It will be filled with fluffy silliness and complete and utter cuteness. So if you are looking for a fight, turn back now!))
Brigantia was the type of girl that people spoke well of, yet no one really noticed when she was around. She was quiet and caring. She was completely and sickiningly sweet. She was the sort of person anyone would be happy to have around, but no one seemed to really care for her. She had long been despised by both races for being a half breed. Human and Demon. Fae and Mortal. Fairy and Woodcutter. But she was content with herself. She saw very little evil in the world and was happy with everything that came her way. She tried her hardest to smile everyday. This is what made her utterly cute. She would even bee considered childish if she spoke her own name rather than I... for example "Brigantia really loves this." rather than "I really love this." She had some sense in her.
She was small, which made it easy for her to go unnoticed by most creatures. She was so slim that one might think she would be blown away if a strong wind came. Her appearance, by her people's standards, was plain, bordering on the edge of ugly. She did not emit her own glow, she did not walk as if she were floating over the ground. She moved with an eartheral grace, for sure, but she did not have the normal appearance of something that did not truely belong on this earth. Her hair was short, cut to her shoulders, the color was silvery. It was much the color of the moon. It shone brightly in the sun, glinting like a river or precious metal. Her skin was a soft tan, something much loathed by thr royals at this time. It also clashed with her hair, the opposites wute strong. Her deep black eyes were set in a heart shaped face. Her lips often curved up in an adorable little smile, and a blush could normally be found upon her cheeks.
These things made up Brigantia's appearance. She was different. Though her dreams were normal for most young women. Her first dream, a dream she beleived may have come true, was a want to be needed. To be desired more than gold or a rare gem. To be something much more valuble to someone. Her other dream, a dream that would not come true until she had spent seven summers upon the earth, was to have children. She hoped it may come true one day, a day when she became fertile. This made her seem so average, these dreams. But her entire being was something so unique,
Brigantia lay in the meadow, her large eyes closed. Her hands were clasped behind her head as the clouds moved over head. The tall grass around her, grass that came to her waist where it would come to mid-thigh on most people, swirled around her with each passing of the light breeze. Her frame was decorated in a simple sort of robe. It clung to her tightly showing off every feminine curve. It was dress like, going down to her knees the sleeves stopping at her elbows. The sides were slit up to her hips, underneath the dress-like cloth were a pair of pants that belled out as they went down her long legs. She wore no shoes, her tin feet tickled by the shorter stems of grass. It only held one piece of embriodery. It was on her neck, directly over her mark. It was of a flower.
This flower held a special meaning to her. But that meaning is to remain a secret, for now. As is the type of flower, or you might guess the meaning.
Brigantia was a butterfly. Being so she had a pair of antenea atop her head. These antenea twitched for a moment. They seemed to sense something. She sat up quickly, a bright look on her beautiful, ugly face. She stood up, racing through the meadow, a laugh escaping her lips. Her hair was blown back by the playful wind.
Until she finally made it. There was a patch of flowers. Lily to be exact. She loved Lily's they were beautiful. But she did not think them tasty. But perhaps she would like them now? Maybe these Lily's were different?
She knelt down beside the flowers, taking on into her tiny hand. She let her tongue slip from her mouth. It touched the petals of the flower. She drew back slightly. An almost unseen black tube came from the tip of her tongue and moved with in the recesses of the flower. She closed her eyes allowing the flavor to reach her.
She jumped back quite suddenly. What could have been a gag came from her throat. "Th-that was th-th-th-the m-most h-h-h-horrible th-thing I ha-have e-ever t-tasted." She managed to stutter out. She spoke to no one in particular.
She went in search of a new flower. And then she found it. Again she knelt down beside the flower, repeating the process. When satisfied and the Lily flavor gone she allowed her tongue to move over her fingers, up it's length before swirling around the tip. This was something she normally did after her meals. She could not help it. The residue was left upon her fingers so naturslly she wanted to clean them off.
During this whole ordeal she had sensed someone far away. She knew about them long before they would ever notice her aura. It was quite possible that they may ignore her, as had happened on many occasions before. The aura, weak now, was one she felt she might now. She brightened. The thought of meeting with a friend, though she had none really, was one that made her very happy. If she had been a dog, like her lover, and had a tail, she would have been waging it wildly with anticipation.
Brigantia was the type of girl that people spoke well of, yet no one really noticed when she was around. She was quiet and caring. She was completely and sickiningly sweet. She was the sort of person anyone would be happy to have around, but no one seemed to really care for her. She had long been despised by both races for being a half breed. Human and Demon. Fae and Mortal. Fairy and Woodcutter. But she was content with herself. She saw very little evil in the world and was happy with everything that came her way. She tried her hardest to smile everyday. This is what made her utterly cute. She would even bee considered childish if she spoke her own name rather than I... for example "Brigantia really loves this." rather than "I really love this." She had some sense in her.
She was small, which made it easy for her to go unnoticed by most creatures. She was so slim that one might think she would be blown away if a strong wind came. Her appearance, by her people's standards, was plain, bordering on the edge of ugly. She did not emit her own glow, she did not walk as if she were floating over the ground. She moved with an eartheral grace, for sure, but she did not have the normal appearance of something that did not truely belong on this earth. Her hair was short, cut to her shoulders, the color was silvery. It was much the color of the moon. It shone brightly in the sun, glinting like a river or precious metal. Her skin was a soft tan, something much loathed by thr royals at this time. It also clashed with her hair, the opposites wute strong. Her deep black eyes were set in a heart shaped face. Her lips often curved up in an adorable little smile, and a blush could normally be found upon her cheeks.
These things made up Brigantia's appearance. She was different. Though her dreams were normal for most young women. Her first dream, a dream she beleived may have come true, was a want to be needed. To be desired more than gold or a rare gem. To be something much more valuble to someone. Her other dream, a dream that would not come true until she had spent seven summers upon the earth, was to have children. She hoped it may come true one day, a day when she became fertile. This made her seem so average, these dreams. But her entire being was something so unique,
Brigantia lay in the meadow, her large eyes closed. Her hands were clasped behind her head as the clouds moved over head. The tall grass around her, grass that came to her waist where it would come to mid-thigh on most people, swirled around her with each passing of the light breeze. Her frame was decorated in a simple sort of robe. It clung to her tightly showing off every feminine curve. It was dress like, going down to her knees the sleeves stopping at her elbows. The sides were slit up to her hips, underneath the dress-like cloth were a pair of pants that belled out as they went down her long legs. She wore no shoes, her tin feet tickled by the shorter stems of grass. It only held one piece of embriodery. It was on her neck, directly over her mark. It was of a flower.
This flower held a special meaning to her. But that meaning is to remain a secret, for now. As is the type of flower, or you might guess the meaning.
Brigantia was a butterfly. Being so she had a pair of antenea atop her head. These antenea twitched for a moment. They seemed to sense something. She sat up quickly, a bright look on her beautiful, ugly face. She stood up, racing through the meadow, a laugh escaping her lips. Her hair was blown back by the playful wind.
Until she finally made it. There was a patch of flowers. Lily to be exact. She loved Lily's they were beautiful. But she did not think them tasty. But perhaps she would like them now? Maybe these Lily's were different?
She knelt down beside the flowers, taking on into her tiny hand. She let her tongue slip from her mouth. It touched the petals of the flower. She drew back slightly. An almost unseen black tube came from the tip of her tongue and moved with in the recesses of the flower. She closed her eyes allowing the flavor to reach her.
She jumped back quite suddenly. What could have been a gag came from her throat. "Th-that was th-th-th-the m-most h-h-h-horrible th-thing I ha-have e-ever t-tasted." She managed to stutter out. She spoke to no one in particular.
She went in search of a new flower. And then she found it. Again she knelt down beside the flower, repeating the process. When satisfied and the Lily flavor gone she allowed her tongue to move over her fingers, up it's length before swirling around the tip. This was something she normally did after her meals. She could not help it. The residue was left upon her fingers so naturslly she wanted to clean them off.
During this whole ordeal she had sensed someone far away. She knew about them long before they would ever notice her aura. It was quite possible that they may ignore her, as had happened on many occasions before. The aura, weak now, was one she felt she might now. She brightened. The thought of meeting with a friend, though she had none really, was one that made her very happy. If she had been a dog, like her lover, and had a tail, she would have been waging it wildly with anticipation.
