Post by Rinoa Heartilly on Dec 19, 2018 2:17:11 GMT -5
A pale hand lifted to rest over a matching forehead partially concealed by a thick black curtain of loose hanging hair as wild as the breeze that could be found somewhere far from this world. Even the buildings in Esthar didn't seem this...dizzying. What stood before her like a colorful stain glass beacon in the moonlit night was the largest temple she'd ever seen...at least that was what she could only assume it was. There were all kinds of buildings here in this stony plaza. There were houses that looked like some of the economy apartments in Timber, but there were booths too maybe like the magazine ones. Rinoa very much doubted that they sold magazines though.
She sighed, leaning into the shadows provided by the starlit sky above and where their twinkling lights were blotted out by the looming tall buildings. This place felt so cramped aside from the large courtyard before the temple. Yeah.. she had no idea where Squall was and furthermore where she was. In her travels she thought she'd seen everywhere that Archipelago had to offer...but then she remembered what Squall told her about the worlds, about what he'd been up to in all the time she'd been gone. This then was likely one of those worlds.
She retreated from that temple plaza. That was way too intimidating. Instead she wandered the streets of the sleepy town. It was funny. There was nothing about the look of it, not the booths or the buildings or the hallowed way the moon shone on some of the buildings. Regardless, Rinoa felt entirely creeped out like she was being watched. There was even a few times she stopped to wheel around only to find absolutely nothing behind her.
In time she came to an area with less buildings. Here the grass was long and the ground hummed with an energy that incited a respect in her. Several stones were lined up unmarked here and she squinted at them in the dark. They were graves she realized. A low deep nasally voice sounded from somewhere.
Come to beg for god's mercy on the souls of your kin, gypsy witch?
Rinoa started her eyes wide as she gazed around in the dark. She didn't recognize the voice but how did they know about the sorceress? Was she fabled in other worlds too?
"Who's there?" she demanded her voice shrill and high in the crisp night air. Rinoa was pretty out if her element here and pretty spooked.
Rest your tongue vile witch. Their souls are as far from redemption as yours.
Rinoa swallowed backing away from the graves by a few steps. She was looking wildly around but seeing nothing though she'd have been lying if she tried to deny that she didn't feel him all around her. It was like a sickening trailing slime. A huff of air blew past her ear and made a lock of her hair blow forward and her spine tingled violently as she whipped around to again see nothing.
It is perhaps the most difficult test the lord sees fit to bestow making the female gypsies such fair demure temptresses. I'm an imperfect man even as a God-fearing one.
Rinoa felt a set of fingertips unmistakably bony and slender brush over her throat. That was more than enough for her. She lurched forward and ran for it leaving a range of cackling pompous laughter behind her at least she hoped. Wasn't there anyone here?