Xanth almost giggled at Kiril's reaction. The demon's face had been so comical as he shot a look at her and shimmered away, but this was no laughing matter. The Fates could not have chosen a worse time to fill Nymphadora's life with pain and heartache. That, combined with the natural confusion as she adjusted to her new powers - not just those Xanth herself had granted but the extra powers of her race - was proving more than her mortal mind could comprehend and deal with. She was being overwhelmed. Xanth had feared this, or at least, something similar. With Dimitri, his confusion had turned to greed and ambition. Here, Nymphadora's self-doubt and tendency to sacrifice herself had gotten the better of her and twisted her genuine need to show her appreciation of her friends into something that brought shame.
Her eyes dark, Xanth snapped her fingers, trapping the Dora-cloud inside a sphere of purple sparks. She did not force the girl to rematerialise just yet, instead, sinking down to sit cross-legged with the sphere bobbing gently before her. Wind rippled through the grass, swirling around her and the sphere. Birds cooed in the tree over head. Xanth stared through the sphere and waited.
Her tactics would prove harsh but she doubted compassion would get them anywhere. You may as well come back, Dora. I know you can. You cannot go anywhere and I will not release you until you rematerialise.
Temple Garden
#22
Posted 21 March 2007 - 07:54 AM
Feeling the walls close in on her, Nymphadora lost total control. She felt trapped, and he couldn't breathe. Whatever portion of her body remained was no longer visible she she let loose completely. All she could think about was getting out of the cage in which held her. Everything that had happened to her tore through her emotions, causing her sadness and depression to come out in severe anger and desperation.
Trapped within the purple sparks which formed a sphere, Nympahdora's element whirled out of control. Round and around it went, faster... faster. Her anger was pressing hard against the sphere as her wind raged out of control. Unlike before, the tornado that appeared within the sphere was completely controlled, and Nymphadora was urging it to break through the barrier. She wouldn't be trapped. She couldn't.
Using every last ounce of strength she had, her tornado split into several, tearing at the sphere to get through. She felt nothing, saw nothing, wanted... nothing more, than to remove herself from the prison which held her. Inside she was weeping, begging, pleading with her element to break the hold. One more moment of this torture... and she'd loose control completely.
And thats exactly what happened. Almost instantly the tornado died into a raging wind, then a soft breeze, then Nymphadora materialized completely. Knocked out from the power in which she used... mainly because she's allowed her emotions to overtake herself. Nymphadora lay at the base of the sphere, tears flowing down her cheeks, her heart thudding in her chest as her breathing slowed down. Blackness was all she could see as she gave into unconsciousness.
((cont'd in the throne room ^^))
Trapped within the purple sparks which formed a sphere, Nympahdora's element whirled out of control. Round and around it went, faster... faster. Her anger was pressing hard against the sphere as her wind raged out of control. Unlike before, the tornado that appeared within the sphere was completely controlled, and Nymphadora was urging it to break through the barrier. She wouldn't be trapped. She couldn't.
Using every last ounce of strength she had, her tornado split into several, tearing at the sphere to get through. She felt nothing, saw nothing, wanted... nothing more, than to remove herself from the prison which held her. Inside she was weeping, begging, pleading with her element to break the hold. One more moment of this torture... and she'd loose control completely.
And thats exactly what happened. Almost instantly the tornado died into a raging wind, then a soft breeze, then Nymphadora materialized completely. Knocked out from the power in which she used... mainly because she's allowed her emotions to overtake herself. Nymphadora lay at the base of the sphere, tears flowing down her cheeks, her heart thudding in her chest as her breathing slowed down. Blackness was all she could see as she gave into unconsciousness.
((cont'd in the throne room ^^))
Images Kate Beckinsale
#23
Posted 23 July 2007 - 01:30 PM
Nymphadora teleported into the garden, locking onto Sacha position and appearing before him. He was laying beside a stream, sulking to no end, scaring the fish that dwell within the small brook. As Nymphadora watched him for a moment, she felt sad for him. She'd knew this wasn't entirely his fault, but he should have known better. She'd planned on coming and scolding him, really ripping him a new one, but as she watching silently, looking so pathetic, she knew she couldn't do that. Even if what he'd done was wrong, he was still her friend, and she loved him. He obviously needed her right now.
Taking a few steps forward, she knelt beside Sacha, her thigh pressed up against his side. The cheetah turned his head slightly, eyes flicking over her frame, before looking back down at the water. He hadn't so much as uttered a hello. Sighing slightly, Nymphadora reached out and stroked his head, letting her nails scratch softly behind his ear. Sacha... She spoke in Sylvan. I know your upset sweetie. And I know you know what you did was wrong. But... its over now. She cooed, moving forward and laying down beside him, her back on the grass as she looked up into his eyes. He looked so sad, it hut to see. Lifting herself up slightly, propping her weight on her elbow, Nymphadora wrapped her arm around her friend, hugging him softly, lovingly.
She hated to see him like this. He wasn't ever sad. It was heartbreaking. Laying back down, she looked up to the sky, watching the stormy clouds roll across. Casually stroking Sacha's chin, she felt the vibrations of his purring until he rolled to his side, dozing into dreamland. The day was really beautiful, and she was glad she could spend it with her familiar.
Images Kate Beckinsale
#24
Posted 30 November 2007 - 09:30 AM
((OOC: The Following post is rated pg-18 for gore, read at your own risk.))
Chenoan gasped in pain as the initial impact of Vicious' fists shattered 3 or more of his rib and then proceeded to toss him like a rag doll into the wall. Screeching as his back slammed against the brick surface, Chenoan clearly felt his wing break and the skin tear open to release a torrent of precious blood onto the dingy ground that the former aide was now falling onto with such force that his leg breaking could be clearly hear a good ten feet away from his body. Fighting to keep still as he awaited the pleasant release of his body's natural endorphines, Chenoan dared not to move for fear of injuring himself further.
Just an average person looking over his body would know he was greatly injured by the sickening angle of his broken hind leg and the torrential out pour of blood along the broken slope of his once majestic wing. If Chenoan didn't have an over dose of Xanth's blood flowing through him right this moment, he would likely be dead very quickly instead of already being healed by the powers granted him by the woman.
Coughing blood out of his beaked mouth, Chenoan fought his urges to revert back to his human form. Shifting his shape in the condition would be more painful than the impact itself had been, so no matter how weak the blood loss made him, Chenoan had to stay in the shape of a gryphon. It was either that or he'd likely lose all consciousness.
Hearing the interloper's words, Chenoan turned his head to look into the man's eyes, blood staining his beak drastically, but as he was about to respond, Dora walked in between them. Heart breaking at the site of her, Chenoan felt a pain worse than any injury rack his body as he attempted not to sob. This woman was his love, his life, and here she was. Broken. Lost. Chenoan couldn't bare to see her like this. "Don't speak like that Dora" Chenoan choked out the words as he attempted to stand and move towards her as best he could, crying out in pain as he leg moved and he, for the first time, looked back to see the twisted position it was in.
Suddenly lightning sturck the ground not too far away and, between the shock of the blast and the pain Chenoan was feeling, he collapsed to the ground again, still longing to get to Dora and comfort her as he prayed he was still able to. Suddenly Chenoan saw the familiar form of Xanth in the center of this false war zone, her rage obvious, and his doom impending. Bracing himself, Chenoan prepared to take his last breath as Xanth's glare turned towards his defeated and mourning form. Allowing tears to flow freely from his eyes, Chenoan wish more than anything he could go back to before the khimaira battles, to before his rivalry with Kaida. Back to when he had still been himself, and stay that way. Oh how he wished to repair the damage of the past. Oh how he wished to feel Nymphadora's love once again as his heart now ached merely with the sight of her form.
Hearing Xanth's words, Chenoan looked away, ashamed of himself. For so long he had hated her, blamed her for anything that happened to him, and yet even now as she was reprimanding him, in her own way she desired to help him. How could the therian not have seen this before? Nodding once, briefly and weakly, Chenoan tried his best not to eavesdrop on what the lavender woman told his love. It was likely for her alone to hear, but still, Chenoan could not help but catch onto the drips of knowledge that fell from the lips of Elysia's leader.
Suddenly, Chenoan felt the familiar sensation of Xanth's teleportation and where in one second there was darkness and grime, in the next there was sun and a forest expanding for miles as they materialized inside the heart of the grove. Wincing as he felt the warm breeze brush he form, Chenoan looked to the ground and sighed. Nymphadora was a mere few feet away, seemingly closer now than she was before, and Chenoan... for the first time, Chenoan didn't know what to say to her, or what to do. He was so weak, and she was so broken, he just didn't know what he could say, or what he could do to try and express how he felt. "Dora..." He whispered quietly, sadness lacing his tones. "Dora.... I love you..." Chenoan said timidly, hoping she would not rush away yet again as he had not the heart or the ability to chase her farther.
PB ~ Dafont ~ Paper Sweets
Just an average person looking over his body would know he was greatly injured by the sickening angle of his broken hind leg and the torrential out pour of blood along the broken slope of his once majestic wing. If Chenoan didn't have an over dose of Xanth's blood flowing through him right this moment, he would likely be dead very quickly instead of already being healed by the powers granted him by the woman.
Coughing blood out of his beaked mouth, Chenoan fought his urges to revert back to his human form. Shifting his shape in the condition would be more painful than the impact itself had been, so no matter how weak the blood loss made him, Chenoan had to stay in the shape of a gryphon. It was either that or he'd likely lose all consciousness.
Hearing the interloper's words, Chenoan turned his head to look into the man's eyes, blood staining his beak drastically, but as he was about to respond, Dora walked in between them. Heart breaking at the site of her, Chenoan felt a pain worse than any injury rack his body as he attempted not to sob. This woman was his love, his life, and here she was. Broken. Lost. Chenoan couldn't bare to see her like this. "Don't speak like that Dora" Chenoan choked out the words as he attempted to stand and move towards her as best he could, crying out in pain as he leg moved and he, for the first time, looked back to see the twisted position it was in.
Suddenly lightning sturck the ground not too far away and, between the shock of the blast and the pain Chenoan was feeling, he collapsed to the ground again, still longing to get to Dora and comfort her as he prayed he was still able to. Suddenly Chenoan saw the familiar form of Xanth in the center of this false war zone, her rage obvious, and his doom impending. Bracing himself, Chenoan prepared to take his last breath as Xanth's glare turned towards his defeated and mourning form. Allowing tears to flow freely from his eyes, Chenoan wish more than anything he could go back to before the khimaira battles, to before his rivalry with Kaida. Back to when he had still been himself, and stay that way. Oh how he wished to repair the damage of the past. Oh how he wished to feel Nymphadora's love once again as his heart now ached merely with the sight of her form.
Hearing Xanth's words, Chenoan looked away, ashamed of himself. For so long he had hated her, blamed her for anything that happened to him, and yet even now as she was reprimanding him, in her own way she desired to help him. How could the therian not have seen this before? Nodding once, briefly and weakly, Chenoan tried his best not to eavesdrop on what the lavender woman told his love. It was likely for her alone to hear, but still, Chenoan could not help but catch onto the drips of knowledge that fell from the lips of Elysia's leader.
Suddenly, Chenoan felt the familiar sensation of Xanth's teleportation and where in one second there was darkness and grime, in the next there was sun and a forest expanding for miles as they materialized inside the heart of the grove. Wincing as he felt the warm breeze brush he form, Chenoan looked to the ground and sighed. Nymphadora was a mere few feet away, seemingly closer now than she was before, and Chenoan... for the first time, Chenoan didn't know what to say to her, or what to do. He was so weak, and she was so broken, he just didn't know what he could say, or what he could do to try and express how he felt. "Dora..." He whispered quietly, sadness lacing his tones. "Dora.... I love you..." Chenoan said timidly, hoping she would not rush away yet again as he had not the heart or the ability to chase her farther.
Sig and Av images: Keith Urban ~=~ Brushes: Aethereality
#25
Posted 03 December 2007 - 05:08 AM
Xanths presence wasn't one that could be ignored. Although Nymphadora continued to sit silently, her eyes unfocused, dull, resting upon the cold hard cobble floor beneath her, she heard everything that was said. She... saw, everything that was done. She could taste the anger on Xanths aura, and smell the upset within her soul. It was no power she'd been given, rather an odd sense of understanding in this moment of weakness and struggle. Xanth came, because they had exposed their world to that of virgin eyes. She had exposed them. Not caring for her own soul, her own tortured life and guilty regret, she'd done what an Aide should never do. She'd endangered Elysia. Vicious must have followed her, as had Chenoan. Although the god had little to hide but his wings, and some might mistake them for party goers, there was no explaining a mythical beast such as Chenoan. He could not be though of as an earthly animal, for none had the body parts as he did. Chenoan would not have come if Nymphadora hadn't let him. What was worst of all... the Nymph didn't care.
Xanths instruction to deal with this was painfully clear to Nymphadora. She had to end things. One way or another, she had to stop this from continuing. And if that meant stripping her powers, giving her mortality, and banishing her from Elysia, the wings upon her back torn from her body, then so be it. Chenoan could not love a censored. She could not expect him to. As long as she lived, she would be tempted by men. The only reason she'd found love within Chenoan, was the Anyeli blood coursing through her veins. Some nymphs might find love, but most tales she had heard placed the creatures in the center of lusting fantasy. Where men spoke of alluring women, who'd given them what they wanted, nearly killing them by their overwhelming need for pleasure. Her mother, a nymph thought easily capable of settling down and falling in love, had even given in to her lust. Nymphadora just had to face it. Her species wasn't capable of everlasting love. She'd been tortured, given a taste of love, and had it ripped right from beneath her.
Feeling her chin being tilted up, Nymphadora looked into Xanths eyes, her own blank as if she were blind. Listening to Xanth's words, they repeated over and over in her mind, sinking to the bottom of her soul, resting at the pit of her stomach. It is never a sin to be true to yourself, as long as it is yourself to whom you are being true. Was it ok then to lust after another man, even though she loved Chenoan? True to herself... It meant something. Nymphadora just couldn't understand what. Xanths second string of words rolled over her and flitted on past. When she felt like she was nothing more than a censored, there wasn't much anyone could say to make her believe otherwise. Admitting you were something, was the first step. She knew she was a censored, she just didn't know if there was anything she could do to change it.
Finding herself within the gardens with a wave of Xanths hand, Nymphadora remained silently still, kneeling in the grass with her head bowed to the ground. There was so much to think about, so much she wished she could change. Part of her wished she could harden. Push out those she loved with anger and force. Tell Chenoan she hated and never wanted to see him again. He might be hurt for awhile, but he'd move on. Remaining silent... she'd hurt him over and over. Every time she was with another man, friend or no, he would wonder. Every time she stepped away from him, or was needed for something, he would remember. Every time she came home, he's look at her, question in his silent eyes. She'd feel guilt every day. And every day, she'd want to die, because she knew, she'd always give in to that lust.
Not once lifting her head, nor looking at Chenoan, she heard her name uttered softly from his lips. The sadness in his tone confirmed her knowledge of his despair, only leaving her to realize how much she should let him go. "You shouldn't." Lifting her gaze finally, looking at him for the first time, she saw his broken body. Letting out a soft sigh, Nymphadora moved her hand to her belt, pulling out 2 small vials of potion given to her from Xanth. Placing them on an invisible force, Nymphadora moved the air around them, causing them to float to his body. As they touched down beside Chenoan, Nymphadora looked away, sitting numbly in the grass. All sign of cool breeze no where to be found within the garden. Remaining silent, the feeling of emptiness surrounding her, Nymphadora finally spoke. Her words light. "I'm not right for you Chenoan. I could never love like you need me to. My physical need overpowers my emotional feelings for you. I'm sorry. I truly am. I hope you will find peace with this someday. That you won't hate me for what I've done to you."
Letting the tears fall freely, Nymphadora stood numbly, pausing to look at Chenoan. "I will always love you." Letting her following words falter before they vocalized, she turned slowly, heading toward her room. A few days sleep, and a few weeks isolation... might pull her from the depression she'd so rapidly sunk into.
Images Kate Beckinsale
#26
Posted 03 December 2007 - 08:20 AM
Chenoan heart, no, his whole world stopped as Nymphadora spoke. How could she say such a thing? The words Stabbed at and twisted into Chenoan's heart worse than any blade ever could. "No...." He whispered, his control over his form fading rapidly. He had to focus every part of him that wasn't already too busy crying, or longing to stop Dora's tears, on keeping himself in this form as if he began to revert into a human state, he would not be able to stop himself and his physical pain would be so incredibly immobilizing that he'd no doubt lose any chance of learning exactly why Dora would say such a thing.
Wincing mildly as his tears clearly revealed to him an injury on his face that Chenoan could not see himself, the therian attempted to hide that side of his face from his lover as she moved. Watching with only one eye, Chenoan shook his head gently. He would never be able to take potions like that from her, not knowing what they were, or knowing how they'd potentially save her from experiencing such physical pain as he did now. If only he had a potion that could remedy emotional duress as these small vials cured it physically, he'd gladly give them all to Dora if only they would allow him to see her smile again
Hearing Nymphadora's small voice, Chenoan shook himself from his never ceasing day dreams and focused on her words, turning his head to look at her while still doing his best to hide the scrape on his face. Shaking his head in disbelief, Chenoan couldn't understand what she was saying. "No... no, This isn't right..." Chenoan cried softly as Dora stood and he cast his eyes to the ground again. Hearing her final words, knowing that the ensued a good bye, Chenoan looked up to Dora, his eyes well with tears that weren't there anymore.
"No! Dora why, why are you leaving? I could never hate you!" Chenoan cried as he attempted to stand shakily on only 3 legs. Stretching out his unwounded wing for balance, Chenoan moved for but shouted out in pain ans his limp and broken leg touched the ground beneath him. Collapsing from the pain, Chenoan cried shallow, mournful tears as he watched Nymphadora walk away again. "Please, Dora, tell me what's wrong!" Chenoan pleaded, pulling himself upright. "Dora, I would do any, be anywhere for you... please, just tell me..." Chenoan said, praying silently she wouldn't disappear again.
How could she say that she would always love him, and then simply leave like that? It... just didn't make sense. What did she mean by her physical need? Chenoan knew nothing about her nymph abilities or weakness, the two had never breached the topic. He didn't understand what she felt would make Chenoan hate her so much. Sure, she'd kissed another man, she may even have had an affair with him, but Chenoan didn't care about that now. Dora said that she loved him, and that's all that mattered. Love conquered all things in Chenoan's mind, once things came to light Chenoan believed that real, genuine love could defeat any opposition and overcome any obstacle. A naive belief, maybe, but one that he held firmly in his heart and mind. Hopefully it was true.
PB ~ Dafont ~ Paper Sweets
Wincing mildly as his tears clearly revealed to him an injury on his face that Chenoan could not see himself, the therian attempted to hide that side of his face from his lover as she moved. Watching with only one eye, Chenoan shook his head gently. He would never be able to take potions like that from her, not knowing what they were, or knowing how they'd potentially save her from experiencing such physical pain as he did now. If only he had a potion that could remedy emotional duress as these small vials cured it physically, he'd gladly give them all to Dora if only they would allow him to see her smile again
Hearing Nymphadora's small voice, Chenoan shook himself from his never ceasing day dreams and focused on her words, turning his head to look at her while still doing his best to hide the scrape on his face. Shaking his head in disbelief, Chenoan couldn't understand what she was saying. "No... no, This isn't right..." Chenoan cried softly as Dora stood and he cast his eyes to the ground again. Hearing her final words, knowing that the ensued a good bye, Chenoan looked up to Dora, his eyes well with tears that weren't there anymore.
"No! Dora why, why are you leaving? I could never hate you!" Chenoan cried as he attempted to stand shakily on only 3 legs. Stretching out his unwounded wing for balance, Chenoan moved for but shouted out in pain ans his limp and broken leg touched the ground beneath him. Collapsing from the pain, Chenoan cried shallow, mournful tears as he watched Nymphadora walk away again. "Please, Dora, tell me what's wrong!" Chenoan pleaded, pulling himself upright. "Dora, I would do any, be anywhere for you... please, just tell me..." Chenoan said, praying silently she wouldn't disappear again.
How could she say that she would always love him, and then simply leave like that? It... just didn't make sense. What did she mean by her physical need? Chenoan knew nothing about her nymph abilities or weakness, the two had never breached the topic. He didn't understand what she felt would make Chenoan hate her so much. Sure, she'd kissed another man, she may even have had an affair with him, but Chenoan didn't care about that now. Dora said that she loved him, and that's all that mattered. Love conquered all things in Chenoan's mind, once things came to light Chenoan believed that real, genuine love could defeat any opposition and overcome any obstacle. A naive belief, maybe, but one that he held firmly in his heart and mind. Hopefully it was true.
Sig and Av images: Keith Urban ~=~ Brushes: Aethereality
#27
Posted 03 December 2007 - 11:25 AM
As Nymphadora slowly walked away, her tears drying up, feeling too numb to cry any longer, the sound of Chenoans disbelief shot through her body hard. Flinching slightly, she tried to ignore it. Tried to move on, to keep herself separated from her feelings, and the right thing to do. She tried so hard not to allow herself to fling back to him, bury her face in his beautiful fur. Part of her was thankful that he couldn't shift back. Had he been human, her eyes would have been drawn to his. But seeing him in his beast form, there was more to take in than his eyes, and she found herself shying away for a purpose needed in order to save him from heartache.
Stepping forward, trying to ignore his words, Nymphadora's breathing strained. Every bone in her body ached, even though she'd not been the one to break. As Chenoan spoke out again, his pleading words ripping through her soul, Nymphadora gasped, stopping dead in her tracks, her hand fluttering up to her chest, clenching around the fabric of her shirt. Squeezing her eyes tight, her body shaking with anguish, she listened to him, wanting to believe him, but knowing she couldn't. He didn't know. He just... he didn't know.
Hearing him hobble after her, the struggle his form gave, the loud sounds of his front claws, Nymphadora winced. He didn't take the potion... but then again, he probably couldn't. Not in that form. Lifting her hand to her face, she softly whipped the tears from her cheeks, then crossed her arms, trying hard not to look back at him. As he spoke once again, the sound of his struggle fading away, Nymphadora found herself getting upset. Not the kind that would make her cry, or rage. But the kind of upset that came from frustration and sheer lack of knowing what to do. Clenching her fist, her eyes staring blankly before her, she shook her head. He wanted to know something she couldn't tell him. She was avoiding hurting him, but he was clinging to her in such a way she had no choice.
Spinning on him, her eyes intense on his, she spoke forcefully, trying to get through to him what he would never understand. "You're not enough for me Chenoan. You will never be enough. No matter my feelings for you, any guy could walk up to me, and as long as they say the right thing, they will have me. I have no control over it. I will hurt you, over and over again. You will look at me, and see nothing but what I am. A censored. I cannot be faithful. And I can never marry you." Had she been given a ring, it would be then when she'd take it off and fling it at him. It hurt to see him in pain, physically and emotionally. But he wouldn't let it go. He wanted to know, and he'd not let her leave without telling him. She'd hid him from the truth to prevent him this anguish. And now here she was, practically yelling it at him.
Casting her eyes down at the ground, her heart beating wildly, she let out a small breath. Lifting her eyes to his, her heart as broken as his probably was, she gazed upon his broken form, the two bottles left where she'd placed them. Furrowing her brow, fighting the sting in her eyes, Nymphadora moved forward, approaching Chenoan. Lowering herself to her knees, waving the bottles toward her, using the air to push them, she gazed into his eyes, lifting her on hand to cradle his massive cheek, while the other grabbed the potions. Popping the cork off on, her hand unconsciously stroking Chenoans cheek, she lifted the bottle to his mouth, letting the liquid slip into his beak. Smiling softly, letting the other potion remain on the ground, she lifted her hand to wipe away his blood, careful of his wound. Leaning forward, Nymphadora wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him softly, his feathers tickling her face. Whispering, her hand stroking his fur, she spoke sadly. "Goodbye Chenoan."
Standing, Nymphadora swallowed the lump in her throat as she walked away, her steps more determined and swift. If he called for her this time, it would take a great force for her to turn and face him yet again.
Images Kate Beckinsale