Delirious
In Destyn's reckoning it was a lovely morning. Granted, Destyn's reckoning was not the most scrutinising when it came to such things as the loveliness of days. Gazing out his bedroom window, he found a grey sky to be no less beautiful than a blue one, and today's was the former. Some might have called this backdrop 'foreboding', but not Destyn. He was a creature who'd only recently grown accustomed to regularly dwelling under rooves. No, caves and canopies had long been shelter enough and he'd often shirked even those.
Dressing himself in beige, cancas knickers and a simple charcoal grey vest that had slits in the back for his wings, he tugged on a pair of borrowed boots and stomped his way down the steps of Torin's cottage. The smell wafting in from the back suggested that his friend and landlord was likely working at his forge, and there was no need to bother him. Lately, Destyn had been blessed enough with the coherent company of friends, that he didn't feel bounden to check in so often. And, with the threat of war having been quashed by an abrupt Deus ex Machina that felled Kalzasi's southerly rival with no need for further bloodshed, Destyn felt safe again to travel alone outside the borders of the city in the natural world that teemed without.
Once he was out the front door, the Fae jogged a few steps before squatting slightly to launch himself into the air. The thunderous beat of his feverishly flitting wings set the debris of the street swirling in sundry directions as he ascended above the city, and out over toward a wooded area he fancied to the South. The gardens within the city proper had allayed his need to be amidst the energy of plants, but even the weeds felt less wild in a curated garden. And there was something in the heart of the Fae that yet longed to be amongst wild things.
His thoughts preceded him to his destination. A glade he'd found, little trafficked by cultivated folk. It was remote, hidden and surrounded by thick foliage that would have been difficult for large wingless creatures like men or elves to traverse. There was a little pond he liked. It drew tasty bugs and funny little creatures with feral thoughts and simple intentions.
His mind was fixed on that place, curious as to what he might find there today. His eyes were cast down toward the woods below, not ahead of him and so he felt the door before he saw it.
"Ow!" He tumbled a metre or so, before regaining his wings and hovering up to see what he'd bumped into. Rubbing his head and wincing, he was surprised to find that he had not colliding with one of his usual obstacles, namely the clumsy, graceless Avialae who lacked the precise control Destyn himself enjoyed in the air. No, instead he found a door, tilted at an odd angle and ostensibly held aloft by nothing. Even his cryptochrome eyes could glean any magnetic fields in play, here. The curiosity soon overtook the soreness where he'd hit his head, and he tilted his head to mimic the angle of the door. Then, pursing his lips and glancing around for others who might be witnessing this strange phenomenon, he reached for the knob and turned it, then pulled it open.
The room on the other side suited the angle of the door, which seemed odd since the gravity on his side was at odds with its diagonal. But odd was rather par for the course, when dealing with the sudden appearance of wooden doors held aloft in the sky by unseen forces. He grabbed the doorframe for purchase, so he could fold his wings to fit more easily through the door and stumbled a bit as he acclimated to the new angle of the room. The door swung behind him, and his eyes followed it over his shoulder- catching sight just in time for it to slam closed. Turning his gaze forward to explore the new environs, he noticed another occupant seated across from him.
"Oh!" He smiled, seeming delighted by this unexpected turn of events, "Hello, Kynne. I am called Destynrael Dromlach’darach de Clann na Feithidí Uisce... Or, you know, just Destyn." He shrugged. The next suggestion caused Destyn to knit his brow and tilt his head in a gesture that might evoke thoughts of a curious songbird.
"But..." He pursed his lips, pausing before he continued. "How do I surprise you when I do not know what is normal to you?" He glanced, again, over his shoulder. "I was just surprised because a door appeared in the sky that led me here. This for me is queer. If, for you, this is normal, then I cannot guess at what is surprising. Perhaps..." He paused, "You will tell me of yourself, Kynne, and then I can, you know, later surprise you." He offered a friendly grin and gestured, "May I, also, sit?"
89 Searing, 122
► Show Spoiler
Dressing himself in beige, cancas knickers and a simple charcoal grey vest that had slits in the back for his wings, he tugged on a pair of borrowed boots and stomped his way down the steps of Torin's cottage. The smell wafting in from the back suggested that his friend and landlord was likely working at his forge, and there was no need to bother him. Lately, Destyn had been blessed enough with the coherent company of friends, that he didn't feel bounden to check in so often. And, with the threat of war having been quashed by an abrupt Deus ex Machina that felled Kalzasi's southerly rival with no need for further bloodshed, Destyn felt safe again to travel alone outside the borders of the city in the natural world that teemed without.
Once he was out the front door, the Fae jogged a few steps before squatting slightly to launch himself into the air. The thunderous beat of his feverishly flitting wings set the debris of the street swirling in sundry directions as he ascended above the city, and out over toward a wooded area he fancied to the South. The gardens within the city proper had allayed his need to be amidst the energy of plants, but even the weeds felt less wild in a curated garden. And there was something in the heart of the Fae that yet longed to be amongst wild things.
His thoughts preceded him to his destination. A glade he'd found, little trafficked by cultivated folk. It was remote, hidden and surrounded by thick foliage that would have been difficult for large wingless creatures like men or elves to traverse. There was a little pond he liked. It drew tasty bugs and funny little creatures with feral thoughts and simple intentions.
His mind was fixed on that place, curious as to what he might find there today. His eyes were cast down toward the woods below, not ahead of him and so he felt the door before he saw it.
"Ow!" He tumbled a metre or so, before regaining his wings and hovering up to see what he'd bumped into. Rubbing his head and wincing, he was surprised to find that he had not colliding with one of his usual obstacles, namely the clumsy, graceless Avialae who lacked the precise control Destyn himself enjoyed in the air. No, instead he found a door, tilted at an odd angle and ostensibly held aloft by nothing. Even his cryptochrome eyes could glean any magnetic fields in play, here. The curiosity soon overtook the soreness where he'd hit his head, and he tilted his head to mimic the angle of the door. Then, pursing his lips and glancing around for others who might be witnessing this strange phenomenon, he reached for the knob and turned it, then pulled it open.
The room on the other side suited the angle of the door, which seemed odd since the gravity on his side was at odds with its diagonal. But odd was rather par for the course, when dealing with the sudden appearance of wooden doors held aloft in the sky by unseen forces. He grabbed the doorframe for purchase, so he could fold his wings to fit more easily through the door and stumbled a bit as he acclimated to the new angle of the room. The door swung behind him, and his eyes followed it over his shoulder- catching sight just in time for it to slam closed. Turning his gaze forward to explore the new environs, he noticed another occupant seated across from him.
"Oh!" He smiled, seeming delighted by this unexpected turn of events, "Hello, Kynne. I am called Destynrael Dromlach’darach de Clann na Feithidí Uisce... Or, you know, just Destyn." He shrugged. The next suggestion caused Destyn to knit his brow and tilt his head in a gesture that might evoke thoughts of a curious songbird.
"But..." He pursed his lips, pausing before he continued. "How do I surprise you when I do not know what is normal to you?" He glanced, again, over his shoulder. "I was just surprised because a door appeared in the sky that led me here. This for me is queer. If, for you, this is normal, then I cannot guess at what is surprising. Perhaps..." He paused, "You will tell me of yourself, Kynne, and then I can, you know, later surprise you." He offered a friendly grin and gestured, "May I, also, sit?"
