VOICETESTING

[palewanderer]

[ there is a girl staring intently at your face.

or... well. the amount of girlhood is debatable. if you're the ordinary sort, with no magical powers or senses and about the average amount of impure thoughts... yes, she's just a girl. a wild-eyed girl who looks like she desperately needs to be introduced to a hairbrush, but just a girl. those with magic senses or a pure heart, however, can see the glittering horns branching up and out through that wild hair, and the fur and scales decorating the sides of her face and the rest of her body.

she continues her wide-eyed and unfocused perusal of your face for several more seconds, and then huffs a disgruntled breath out through her nose, like you've personally disappointed her.

(unless you happen to be (a) Link, in which case: you are getting your face touched by clawed hands as her eyes somehow go even wider. you may not want to resist! those talons are impressive!) ]

Comments

[palewanderer]

[ she very helpfully tips her head to one side, and watches him from his new position the way a small child might watch a particularly interesting bug: intensely curious and visibly considering whether it's worth poking it or not. the smell of monster is both familiar and foreign, something she knows like she knows the gloom spattered across the surface despite never having been marred by it—

but so is the smell of ink. and paper. she looks away from him, attention captured by the notebook, and says absently: ]

...No. You are not enough.

[ —ah. wait, though. another moment of thought, and she shifts her gaze back to his dagger and adds: ]

That is not enough, either.

[ her tone is somewhere between muzzily half-asleep and gently concerned chiding. that dagger would barely tickle a bokoblin; obviously he's ill-prepared. ]

[historicallyloaded]

[ His face burns all the way to the tips of his pointed ears while he looks at his (small, not enough) dagger. His lips purse with petulant offense he's trying very hard to hide and failing, muttering. ] It's not... i-it's not my weapon of choice, being honest.

[ He clears his throat and tries to find some bravado while standing and sheathing his dagger, trying to talk louder than his own very ill-prepared and bruised ego. ] Not that I WANT to hurt any strange woman who happenstances upon my humble camp.

[ Is this really a woman? He looks her up and down again, the sparkling visage of horns not there. He senses there is something very off and otherworldly about her but can't put his finger on it. He spares a glance to his horse who is certainly no help, staring back blankly. His lone green eye flashes from her to the notebook to her and he steps over to scoop it up. He clutches it to his chest with more reverence than he did the dagger. ] Do you even know who I am?

[palewanderer]

You are not who I am looking for. But. You are still...

[ ...still what?

still something. not as important as him, of course, but... hers? hers, still. yes. that seems right.

she hums and looks up, to where her true body twists through the air some hundreds of meters above the ground. he needs a better weapon... and she doesn't need the crystalline shards growing along her back. they itch. ]

What weapon would you choose?

[historicallyloaded]

[ His indignance falters, just a moment, brows raised in curiosity. He is still...?

She looks up. He blinks. He looks up, squinting at the air. Through the canopy of trees and dark sky it's difficult to make out anything, though, he sees the distortion of light leisurely pass against the stars as if a large creature were passing in front of them. Or a cloud. Probably a cloud! Depth perception is not his strongest suit with one eye. He cants his head at her. Is she looking for someone in the clouds...? Not a good start looking here in these woods, then. ]

Brickston Bartholomew Penderyn would choose... [ He drums his fingers over his notebook, still naively optimistic even with how strange she is and especially with a question like that. ]

Well... knowledge, first and foremost. T-the knowledge that unnecessary confrontation mayhaps be avoided in the first place with an elixir of carefully portioned Sunset Fireflies, or how curiously a creature within the same genus produces a near opposite effect of a very conspicuous glow.

[ His shoulders heave. ] O-or a miniaturized beam emitter... would be quite a sight to behold in the right hands... or in the right machine. [ He half laughs. ]

You um... you don't... have any weapons?

[palewanderer]

[ her expression sharpens briefly at the mention of the fireflies, only to grow vague again at his question. she hums, thinking, and then tilts her head to one side and shakes her head— not in negation, but to get her hair out of the way of the sword hilt peeking over her shoulder. a potentially familiar sword hilt, considering his time at Lookout Landing— that is in fact the Master Sword sitting on her back.

and as if that weren't enough— she glances up again and reaches out to neatly catch— a star fragment? at first glance it at least glows like one, but the shape is all wrong, and... so is the color, actually: a translucent milky blue-green with golden inclusions. she turns it over in her hands, and smiles. ]

...This is not knowledge. But I will give it to you, if you want it.

[historicallyloaded]

[ He cants his head, mirroring her again unwittingly but for a different reason; to better see the sliver of the hilt peaking over her shoulder. Even for as scatterbrained and in his own head as Brickston could be, The Hero Link—and his legendary weaponry—was a well known name and face by all. That— that isn't...?

More alarmingly she reaches up to pull something seemingly out of thin air, or maybe something fallen that she caught with reflexes that would make any Sheikah blush. He flinches and recoils, albeit not as dramatically as before. ]

Oh... this— [ He brushes some wayward bangs out of his face and leans forward, eye wide with awe. It looks like a star fragment but more like a shard. Without any consideration that it or she might harm him he holds his hands out cupped, like a child gently accepting a treat or precious gift.

More than that, when he dares to lift his gaze and regard her again the milky blue-green golden glow casts an illuminating radius, revealing those ghostly visages again a little more clearly to him this close; her more draconic eyes and face, the horns, her ears, her... true form?

He freezes still, hands still held out but feeling more like it's in prayer. The wide look in his eye teeters between awe and hope and fear and confusion as he's realizing he's being visited by something else entirely. His knees feel weak. He's delivering notes and knowledge, what did he do to deserve this? His voice trembles. ]

I'm... am I dreaming?

[palewanderer]

[ while her smile stays a more than a little vague and the multicolored swirl of her eyes isn't the most readable, her ears flutter with something like mischief as she places the shard in his hands. he can see, now, that the hazy blue-green matches the horns branching from her head— or the spikes along her tail, which swishes lazily behind her.

the shard is warm to the touch, like the gentle brush of sunlight on a brisk day. also very sharp along the craggier edges... though he'll find any cuts gained by testing those edges will heal rapidly. ]

You are awake. [ a pause, and then her demeanor shifts away from amusement as her brow furrows. ] ...I don't mean you harm.

[ he is one of hers. hers to protect, hers to safeguard. awe is acceptable; fear is not. ]