Tutting at the encountered display of curiosity, Elfleda's admonishment had her smile subtly shift into something more conceited. Turning squarely to face her; body language echoing a much more in control personality. The accent hadn't changed, but the more she spoke, the more the voice of this 'Beth' was to start leaking, half-in, half-out of phase between the realms of the vocal and something more telepathic.
"And here she is... The protector, the warrior, the one who would stand against the dark... The blessed - the half-breed - who turns against her brethren because she was ordered, not because she was set free."
Part-condescending, part-stinging with an interpretation of facts, the stranger walked in a more deliberate path off to one side, passing the Slayer by. Gaze keeping trained upon Valerie as she passed. A sudden cracking sound announcing the growing formation of a blackened portal forming out of the bark; splitting the wood and fracturing directly into tree's trunk. The material, later, under full daylight, would be seen as scorched, twisted and gnarled, as if the victim of a somehow temporary chronic sickliness. Elfleda's form slipping into the acrid smoke, only to appear summoned from the other side. The pathway to somewhere with real presence, signalling powerfully into the nearby Slayer's mind, sealing up behind the figure now dressed in a far more wickedly regal fashion than before. Now longer the girl of before. Now a pale creature in ebony bridal dress. Everything, from the colour of eyes and nails, to the style of hair, radically altered.
And, while by no means any longer a picture of radiant health, without any further need to retain disguise, the unfurling of Elfleda's true presence made her feel that much more compelling.
"What do I want, Valerie? Why, I wish to help, you silly girl..."
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2013-10-11 04:22 am (UTC)Tutting at the encountered display of curiosity, Elfleda's admonishment had her smile subtly shift into something more conceited. Turning squarely to face her; body language echoing a much more in control personality. The accent hadn't changed, but the more she spoke, the more the voice of this 'Beth' was to start leaking, half-in, half-out of phase between the realms of the vocal and something more telepathic.
"And here she is... The protector, the warrior, the one who would stand against the dark... The blessed - the half-breed - who turns against her brethren because she was ordered, not because she was set free."
Part-condescending, part-stinging with an interpretation of facts, the stranger walked in a more deliberate path off to one side, passing the Slayer by. Gaze keeping trained upon Valerie as she passed. A sudden cracking sound announcing the growing formation of a blackened portal forming out of the bark; splitting the wood and fracturing directly into tree's trunk. The material, later, under full daylight, would be seen as scorched, twisted and gnarled, as if the victim of a somehow temporary chronic sickliness. Elfleda's form slipping into the acrid smoke, only to appear summoned from the other side. The pathway to somewhere with real presence, signalling powerfully into the nearby Slayer's mind, sealing up behind the figure now dressed in a far more wickedly regal fashion than before. Now longer the girl of before. Now a pale creature in ebony bridal dress. Everything, from the colour of eyes and nails, to the style of hair, radically altered.
And, while by no means any longer a picture of radiant health, without any further need to retain disguise, the unfurling of Elfleda's true presence made her feel that much more compelling.
"What do I want, Valerie? Why, I wish to help, you silly girl..."