So I was very sad when one of my RP’s on the side from wifey (she calls them side bitches) faded. It was going really well. A bit lewd and colorful but very descriptive and the story had potential. Oh well. However I will post a piece of what I wrote for it just because I like it. Enjoy!
The rule was simple: No direct contact with anything outside of the Keijukainen realm. One could observe and that was all. Lithia Inestra, a primitive Keiju, followed that rule without question for over a century. She spent most of her time occupied with the transgressions of man against the wildlife within the dense forests of her domain. A protector, as many saw it fitting, neither ‘good or evil’; those titles quite subjective. Lithia was a mischievous sprite, finding pleasure and beauty in all things broken, occasionally twisting the fate of those that crossed her path. It wasn’t exactly frowned upon, as long as she followed the cardinal rule and stayed out of sight. There were severe consequences for any that breached that verbal contract, but it had been thousands of years since anyone of her species dared broach the subject, thus it had been all but been forgotten.
Lithia had two forms.
Her most common was that of a seven inch porcelain figure, resembling much of a lesser scale to the impressive statues that scattered Imperio. Silver, transparent wings endowed the full length of her tiny form, changing colors with her mood emitting a curious glow that could only be seen by those who lingered between the planes of existence. Life and death was also subjective, and humans tended to only believe in what was right in front of them, never seeing past that thin veil that lingered like a shadowy fog in which she thrived within. Thus, she was invisible to most. If one were lucky enough to bestow upon her beauty in said form, violet eyes shimmered like a threatening storm, thick raven locks cascading down between her delicate wings, clothing her naked hourglass form. Wisps of hair would cling beneath her voluptuous breasts as if to cup and support the supple flesh, defining her hairless peach that blushed like a rose between her thighs.
Lithia’s less frequent form wasn’t too much different than the normal except she could manipulate herself to blend in with her surroundings, giving the facade she were human. Her wings would be concealed beneath the ‘veil’, her curves lucid, embellishing a hunter green, tight knit corset that barely covered past her nipples. Her belly would be bare, a disheveled skirt ruffled and seemingly torn at all angles like crumbling leaves brittle to the touch. Most times her feet were unclad, her skin impermeable to the harsh climates and rocky terrain.
Lithia was growing tiresome of the redundant repose of her mere existence, so more and more she would travel into the cities in her minuscule form, perching along the shoulders of those marble sculptures, seeking out to learn and understand the mundane existence of man. On occasion she would whisper into their ears inspiration or corruptive impressions, finding amusement in how things played out in turn. Lithia had only felt remorse for her fellow creatures she watched over beneath the pale moonlight and never had she regretted her playful objectives; that is until one night.
For reasons obscured from reality, eyes befell upon an impeccable subject of a man, his scent being what caught her attention in the first place. There was something animalistic about his essence that lured her interest beneath his ethnological anatomy, only heightened through his perspiration, overwhelming her carnal senses. Lithia found herself stalking him for days, watching from the shadows, whether it be in dark corners or nestled within his long blond hair as he slept. She became obsessive, forgetting all else as she yearned to understand what compelled him to follow his brethren and then suddenly stray. His muffled curses and starset eyes tugged on her heart strings, finding his reason for questioning all that he knew, harrowing her own reflective purpose. And so, she found herself whispering into his dreams, her voice harboring an angelic sting as she sang to him with a siren’s call….Until he was excommunicated from his home.
Lithia pursued him through the forests, a place she could meander in her sleep by smell and sound alone. His cologne magnified and now changed somehow, sending her focus into a daze, the pixie under some perception of hypnosis. She wondered now if his soul had awakened, the strength he displayed clearly beyond any mortal she had ever seen as not many had dared to trespass the boundaries as he had. As she roosted along a small stone by the side of the cave’s entrance, she barely noticed the raven until it was already flying off into the midnight fog. Lithia worried if he had noticed, thus subconsciously breaking the cardinal rule when she called out to him, her voice carried in on the back of the winds of her beating wings with a haunting peculiarity, remaining in the open to be seen in her tiny form by any who knew where to look.