PASSION'S A PRISON

[RED]

At this point in Ottie's travels, the only thing that remains to be finished is finding a companion. She hasn't had all that much time for people, what with her incessant traveling and neurotic tendency to move on too fast, and the relative novelty of her presence in Tathra, but she's been almost everywhere there is to go, and the next step in this plan - the one Ottilie has been putting together in her head for years, like an extraneously complicated puzzle - is to find girls for herself. Boys. Whatever. Beggars can't be choosers, and Otillie in general doesn't care for the gender of her toys. Friends, girls are much better for. But she's already met Manon, who's good enough for camaraderie a thousand times over, and so Ottilie's sights are more set on things to call her own; boys, girls, lands. Anything and everything. The lushness of her possibilities here is overwhelming. 

Ottilie shakes herself out of euphoria, and, with a spring in her step, traipses toward the lake. Everything here is bright green or blue, clean and natural and sparkling with yellow sunshine, and Ottie loves it. She's a shallow person. She's big enough to admit that. Pretty things, shiny things, it's all great. And this terrain caters directly to her interests, flush with clear water and greenery, empty of everyone except for her. Exactly how she wants it. Ottie leans down to judge how shallow the lake is, then dips a leg in. It's refreshingly cool, and fun to watch the pebbles shift under her feet, so she plunges the rest of her body in, up to her chest, and shudders at the relief from the early summer heat. Perfect.


WHIPSTER.  <3 i wrote this in 10 lol forgive me

[WHIPSTER.]

elowyn davis

"I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN, SO SHAME ON ME NOW. FLEW ME TO PLACES I'D NEVER BEEN 'TILL YOU PULLED ME DOWN AND I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBlE WHEN YOU WALKED IN."

She was coloured much like a cup of coffee with too much cream - mixed with white blotches of white chocolate. Her hair was unbelievably long and was a mess of endless curls which covered her  pale green eyes. Her mother, before she died, compared her to sunshine. Elowyn was unlike any other back home: She was pleasant and polite, a constant daydreamer even thought things still haunted her. Escaping home was hard, but she had found Tathra and it was the perfect choice. There were few equine inhabiting it's lands and it was so far South of him that she could, finally, relax. It was only her second day traveling, though she had spent almost three weeks hiding beyond the outskirts, scaling it's boarders, deciding if it really was the right choice. Beyond on the anxiety that boiled in her chest, the sun kissed girl slipped through the rocky edges of the lake and kept her head low to catch a few stray blades of grass. The water here was crisp and fresh, and she could not pass the opportunity to find the perfect spot to bathe in the sun and enjoy herself. 

Elowyn was never one to pay close attention. She was stout, but her neck was held upright thanks to her mothers pure Kiger blood. Thick legs with dainty feet, but with a heavy step. The girl thought of home, if there was a home any longer. There was a great war coming, she remembered. With so many things running through her mind she did not catch the scent or sound of another ahead. If she had kept going, maybe she would have collided straight into her. But Elowyn was able to open her eyes to the real world and noticed her instantly. She had seen that kind of pattern before - wore one herself, but admired the smoothness of her bay body and the curves that rolled effortlessly when they moved. Immediately Elowyn was entranced by the fluidness of her refined face and long, inky lashes. The sun kissed girl fluttered her own, letting a smile part her soft ashen lips. "Hi there." Normally she would have wanted to run: but there was something far more inviting in this woman than in much else.

RED

[RED]

Observant enough to catch the trailing of footsteps as they clatter behind her, Ottilie turns as soon as she realizes there's someone else around. Her biggest fear is to be caught off-guard, and she's done her best, but with the recent commotion of her new life, she's gotten worse and worse at keeping her instincts sharp. The fact that the girl coming up behind her is almost a complete surprise makes Ottie hate herself.

She turns completely, sloshing through water, to face the stranger. Then stops. Pleasure races through Ottie's chest and makes her slightly dizzy. She's pretty, blindingly pretty, golden skin, tall and well-built, pale green eyes and thick lashes. A smirk spreads across Ottilie's face and carves its way into both cheeks. Of all the people to interrupt her, she got lucky with this one. Ottie slides forward a step, the water splashing up onto her chest and darkening her red-brown fur, and tilts her head at the stranger, looking her up and down without an ounce of shame.

Hi there. Her smirk widens. A pause follows in which Ottie calculates what to say, caught mid-breath, trying to get her brain to function. Hey yourself. What's your name, sweetheart?

WHIPSTER.  <3 

[WHIPSTER.]

elowyn davis

"I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN, SO SHAME ON ME NOW. FLEW ME TO PLACES I'D NEVER BEEN 'TILL YOU PULLED ME DOWN AND I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBlE WHEN YOU WALKED IN."

For once in her life, Elowyn felt eyes on her and did not feel the need to run. She tilted back on her heals, almost blown away by the excitement rising in her throat. This girl, this stranger, was sizing her up in some way and it was exhilarating. For once in her life, Elowyn did not fear the outcome of this moment: life was ever-changing and she was a mere pawn to whatever gods forsakened them ... This time they had presented her with something pleasant, something she was not used to. Lost in daydreaming she could picture herself and this girl laying about in the bursting lavender meadow, kissing under a thousand stars, giggling as they snuck away from their parents. A chill spiraled down her body, pale green eyes refocusing on the other, catching that coy smirk. That was all it took. Hey yourself, and her head cocked to the side. Cream curls fell over her face, covering the instant panic on her sweet, dipped face. What's your name, sweetheart? Elowyn liked that pet name, though they'd never been her thing. They used to seem tacky. 

Anxiety slowly dripped away the longer she gazed at this stranger. Slowly, the pleasant and bright eyed Elowyn peeled from her shell and stood confidently, but lax, letting sun grapple her curvaceous golden skin, a smile wider than the Atlantic brightening up her young face. “They called me Elowyn Davis back home,” she replied, turning just slight to look into the depths of Havasuu. “You can call me whatever you want.” It wasn't like her to flirt like this. Naturally, she was attracted to the strong men. Messy, dark hair and dark eyes was more her forte. But it was not like she was now bound to one way of thinking, either. Elowyn, at times, forgot she was now free of her homes chains and catalytic tradition. Standing there and looking out at the water, she could only imagine the stories this strange other could tell her. Their lives hadn't even started yet, that much she could tell. It was not here place to assume, though, so Elowyn decided to turn her pale eyes back on the mahogany spotted girl, same smile on her face, same bright eyes. 

“What's your name, then?” Elowyn knew it was something unique. Her own was unusual and few knew the meaning. She had a soft spot for pretty things; names, voices; things like ocean waves crashing against hard rock or even trees as they sway to and fro after a stiff breeze. Ottilie looked like something as smooth as honey, wanted to try some for herself ... But for now she kept quiet, waiting for the keepsake. 

RED

[RED]

Watching the smile that spreads over this girl's face is like magic. The flash of white teeth, the slow curl of lips, like a flower unfurling at a million times its normal speed. Ottie watches and melts and holds herself together at the strings. It's been a long time since she's felt so strongly about anything at all, especially over a person, a girl, a stranger, who has so far said two words to her, each of them beautiful enough to cute Ottie to the bone. It's strange. Somewhat disconcerting. Mostly great. Ottilie's face blazes with a smile, small and unbidden, but genuinely excited.

They called me Elowyn Davis back home. You can call me whatever you want. Ottie's grin widens at that, and she flutters her long, dark lashes, sidling forward half a step. The air between them is singing with an electric current, even sending chills up Ottilie's spine, which she can't recall having ever happened before. Elowyn is her type. Exactly her type. Young and fresh, innocent even, those eyes like meadows, skin spotted like Ottilie's, everything about her gorgeous and untouched. Ottie is the kind of person who sees something untouched and says mine. Ottie is the kind of person who can look at someone else and figure out how to keep them around in ten seconds. The kind of person who knows what she wants and gets it, at the cost of anything she's willing to part with. For Elowyn, it's hard to think of something she wouldn't be willing to part with.

What's your name, then?

Ottilie's grin widens; she tilts her head and sways her hips suggestively, still resting halfway in the water. Ottilie, she says, raising her chin proudly. Been here long?
WHIPSTER.