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[mogget_cat]

There's an eight-foot tall figure of light wandering the deepest reaches of the forest, today.

It's vaguely humanoid through the torso and upper extremities, though emaciatedly thin, with too-long arms and fingers. The lower half of the creature is a whirling pillar of white flame. It's sunlike light casts deep shadows from the trees as it moves through the forest.

Comments

[scots_wolf]

Bright sunlight in his eyes is something that upsets Urquhart, especially when it comes unexpected.

He was hunting.

Now, he's cowering behind a tree, trying to steady himself.

[mogget_cat]

The Scotsman.

Ah.

Like white cloth soaking up ink, the surface of the shining creature dims and swirls into blackness, leaving the early spring daylight unsurpassed.

The Bright Shiner comes around Urquhart's tree, giving it a wide berth without coming too close to any of the other trees - heat still radiates off of him, even without the light. He gazes down at the assassin in vague curiosity and concern, though it is likely neither show up on his face.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart isn't looking at the face, though.

He is hiding his face against the tree trunk and breathing very slowly with great concentration, to make the memories retreat.

[mogget_cat]

Yrael is patient.

He watches, silent, only moving when the smoldering of the rotten leaves of the forest floor begin showing signs of wanting to burn.

[scots_wolf]

Finally, Urquhart has pulled himself together enough for his standards, and stands to look at the strange being.

[mogget_cat]

"Better now?" crackles the Bright Shiner's voice.

[scots_wolf]

"Yes," Urquhart says. "What was that?"

[mogget_cat]

The Bright Shiner looks down on him with curiosity. When he opens his mouth, some of the brightness of his former self shows through, sparks falling when he speaks.

"What was what?"

[scots_wolf]

"The light."

[ps_you_look_hot]

There's a (half)vampire wondering why on earth he thought taking a walk in early March was a good idea.

"Feeling confined again, mačkica?"

[mogget_cat]

"Confined, yes, in a way," Yrael replies, an agreement. The Bright Shiner passes over a fallen log, rotten and soaked through with spring rain. Steam quickly begins to issue from it.

"Pigeon-holed."

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola finds this idea vastly amusing, and he can't help chuckling.

"By whom?"

[mogget_cat]

"By a friend," he replies as the rotten log gives way with a creaking sound, unable to hold him. The drying wood begins to smolder and singe. "Or one I thought of as a friend."

[ps_you_look_hot]

"Anyone I know?"

Already the petty revenge wheels are turning.

[mogget_cat]

"Very unlikely," says the Bright Shiner.

"Possibly it is my own fault for trying to be kind to a teenaged girl."

She was dead, had suddenly found herself with no more wars to fight, no purpose, confined to Milliways. And he'd had experience with being confined where he'd rather not be, with anger and violence a hairsbreadth away from the surface, and hadn't wanted her to hate it here.

Also, she gave good scritches and her tone had been fond when she'd called him a freeloader.

[ps_you_look_hot]

Nikola makes a face along the lines of 'eww, teenagers.'

"I'm going to have to agree with you there, mačkica. The very young are more likely to categorize things they don't understand."

[mogget_cat]

"I believe she equated powerful with evil," Yrael replies, "and would not be persuaded otherwise."

"They often don't realize that the accusation is what makes it tempting."

Yrael doesn't sulk well. >_>

[katyafeline.livejournal.com]

There's a just-over-five-foot figure of the Light, also in the woods today. She's up in one of the branching trees, sprawled lazily along one of the heavy branches, watching the unreal sun drowsily - she's still getting used to the idea of being awake during the day regularly, and asleep at night.

She's singing something soft and sad in her native Russian (http://www.ooltra.net/Lyrics.php?a=YuliaSavicheva&s=Visoko&t=en), something that'd been playing on the radio before she got kicked out of the world she was trying to defend.

Well. She was. Before she got distracted. Giant light beings tend to be distracting, after all.

[mogget_cat]

They do, and they are also distract-able. Especially by music, in this one's case. It is a vicious cycle.

The creature of light gazes up at her, pitlike eyes as black as the space between the stars. When it speaks, the voice cracks and rumbles like rolling thunder.

"That is a very abrupt way to end such a song."

[katyafeline.livejournal.com]

If she was shifted, all the fur along her back would be standing on end on reflex alone.

"It was a very abrupt interruption." She points out in return, not retreating... mostly because that is a very underused skill in her skill set.

[mogget_cat]

"Interruption was not intended. Only getting close enough to hear."

[katyafeline.livejournal.com]

"You are a pillar of light. Do you often find yourself ignored?" She retorts impishly, as one shouldn't do to something that looks like a moving incinerator.

[mogget_cat]

It's a laugh. Hopefully. It doesn't sound good.

Like a dog being tortured.

But people can't help their laughs.

"Not often, no," he crackles, amused. "What was the song you were singing?"

[katyafeline.livejournal.com]

She winces, because she is of the Light, and torture is not something she condones.

"Высоко." She replies instead of fleeing, mentally informing the Bar that if she translates that bit, there will be trouble. Some things deserve to be said in Russian properly.

[mogget_cat]

"I do not know what that means." The creature says, curiosity in what there is of tone to the crackling voice.