Archived Roleplay:Main Forum/General/Remnants of the Past (Colors and Omnia)

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Celandia: Fingers danced dexterously across the warm, glowing symbols on the finely carved wood. Equally captivating music flowed from the flute's mouth, gently carried away, echoing through the wind. Cela set down her beloved instrument, the corners of her mouth tugging into a sad smile. As magical as it sounded, nothing her voice aided or produced would ever birth true magic again. She glanced up meaningfully towards the shade of the tree she had taken refuge in, suddenly aware of the still silence that permeated through the woods.

Thea: Soft steps, wandering eyes, hands flipping about a coin. Listening to the gentle chime of metal against skin, the whistle it made each time it weaved endlessly between her slender fingers. The seamless cycle stopped in an instant, when the tweet of a flute found its way through her ears. Ah, she always did have a soft spot for music. Pocketing the coin, Thea approached its source with silent steps. Her grey eyes wandered until it stopped upon a certain girl amongst the trees, a wistful look on her face. And she couldn't help but wonder if she looked like that as well. Just a hopeless dreamer striving towards a goal that didn't even exist anymore. Well, in her case that was. Leaning against the tree, she watched from the cover of shadows.

Celandia: Perhaps it was something in the wind, or how the rustle of the leaves seemed a little off-key. Perhaps it was just a sense of foreboding, one that struck so suddenly and briefly, one simply could not resist the impulsive reaction that came with it. In an understated manner, as if to tuck a filament of hair behind her ear, Cela gently brushed her fingers across a symbol carved behind it. The rest of the motifs hardly visible upon the surface of her pale skin glowed black, linked together as Cela flexed her fingers. "Who's there?" She asked, not even the slightest sound of a threat underlying her tone.

Thea: Demigods were odd creatures. She knew that much looking at herself. They were very odd because they were so human, and yet not at the same time. They belong on neither earth or olympus, yet they exist anyway. She knew most of the campers found their heritage a blessing. But personally she had never been sure of what to think. Watching the sudden change on Celandia's skin proved this. Only demigods would ever be blessed with such extraordinary qualities, yet cursed with human conflictions. She knew, even if there wasn't a hint of threat in this girl's tone, that she meant so anyway. "No one important." Her British accent rang clear as she spoke. "Who are you?"

Celandia: Cela located the voice, one with an accent from the old land, coming from underneath a nearby tree. Her head inherited an innocent tilt, the symbols on her body dancing and glowing like dark hellfire. "Not getting into the endless technicalities, everyone is important. Even the miniscule dot of dirt on your skin serves a greater purpose, whether or not it knows of it," She remarked, her green eyes sparking manically. She turned her head side to side, a brief, but reserved smile washing over her features as she did so. "Tá brón orm. Tá brón orm. No, I prefer to acknowledge who I am conversing with before revealing my own person," Cela replied, her own accent quite palpable as she spoke.

Thea: Interest strikes her at the verbal fluency Cela has shown. So much as to pull her away from cover and to the vulnerable open. "Yes, I do agree with that." Her voice rings clear in the emptiness of sound. It felt like a muted television set, where they were the only ones permitted by some higher force to make a sound. Now she stood in the scarce light that wove between the tightly knit canopy, but still a distance away as if going any closer would be a waste of the space they adorned. "Kecil-kecil cabai rawit, sedikit-sedikit menjadi bukit. Indeed, such purpose the miniscule serve. What might you be doing all alone in the silence?"