Thread: â s e a w e e d s - - ( dream&&middie )

A decorative throne carved purely from blue and pink coral was positioned high in the large room several moss-ridden pillars surrounded it. Beyond them was a vast cliff a shelf of rock that curved inward much like a semi-circle. To many in the Melrose sea this crescent-moon shaped formation was known as Noki Bay, an extravagant, secretive resort that shielded away from the rest of the ocean. The temple-like pagoda that the throne was positioned in was a precarious built 'indoor oasis' created by Melrose precursors hundreds of years ago. The chamber had built ponds of pure, untouched water and brilliant waterfalls and fountains to match it. Exotic ocean dwelling flora was draped on the ceiling the path leading up to the sea was manufactured from smelted oyster pearls and untainted diamond. Within this realm such resources weren't as precious as others diamonds and pearl were common amongst the people, though rarer forms of the minerals - such as pink diamonds or black peals - sold for a significantly higher prices. A man was escorted into the pagoda by two heavily muscles men garbed in red-colored armor and sporting horrifyingly jagged polearms. My lady! the man cried forth, kneeling down at the foot of the pearl throne. Within the seat sat a woman ... an unfailingly exotic, gorgeous woman with features softer then ocean sponge and more flawless then a pearl. The woman was a Muse - the muse of idealism, creativity and uniqueness. She was summoned to the island to deal with a controversial matter. Needless to say she was not pleased out of all of the four Muses, Johnta was the one seen the least. The fact that she was willing enough to address such a menial issue was baffling. I am the magistrate of the forest island to the ease. My people and I are experiencing a drout a crops had withered to dust and the earth is dry and cracked. We have not produced a single fruit or vegetable this season. I beg of you to aid us bring my people and our land prosperity again. The Muse Johnta eyed the magistrate with her ostentatious, immensely colored ginger-ale gaze. Her heavily ringed, beautiful hands graced the arms of the throne she tapped her fingers impatiently, watching the man with an uninterested gawk. Clearly, the magistrate was entranced with her alien beauty. Her legs were long and toned, sculpted by the most experienced of architecture the cloth that had covered them was long and inked with a tribal design along with a beautiful pattern it slid between her legs, revealing simple tribal tattoos on her upper thighs. They were the markings of the Banshee, brands that signified stupendous spiritual and ethereal gifts. My lady? Please. Give me some answer. The woman turned her head to the side, examining her staff that was propped against the seat. It, too, was created from spoils of the sea. She raised one of her eyebrows, several of her dark, thick, untamed bangs skittering into her view, giving her the unamused look. Magistrate Crasus. The woman's voice was like pure cotton, strong and firm, virtually dripping with viscous, golden honey. I realize that you've already consulted yet another of my brethren with this unfortunate dilemma. It was he that informed you about your greedy reasons to eliminate this supposed drought, correct? The magistrate Crasus noted Johnta's voice. She had a skill that she used to disguise her tone as well when she spoke this time, it sounded cool and metallic. Well, yes, but - Then this issue should not have been brought to my attention. You have wasted my time ... I am displeased. All residents of the Melrose Sea knew what it meant when a Muse was displeased. Though Johnta was not posh, she did have a fiery wrath. She was very prosperous and selfless she gave much and asked for nothing in return. However ... this man had irritated her. Time was very precious to the young woman, and while she was not immortal, she treasured every second. This particular muse was impulsive and merely acted on said impulses. Displeased ...? he repeated, My lady! Johnta's beautiful face twisted to an angry scowl. I do not appreciate your artifice. Leave at once. The man gave Johnta a vehement glare. He balled a fist so tight that his knuckles turned ghost white. Such insolence! You arrogant heifer! Suddenly, an odd mist was secreted from her flesh it sparkled with an eerie violet glow, reflecting flecks of gold light. The mist surrounded that magistrate's iron body the man's eyes went blank with blinding agony. An odd, crimson colored dust bled from his pores before his now dead corpse hit the pearl and diamond walkway with a sickeningly gruesome thud. The surrounding area was shrouded in a veil of mist with a reddish hue suddenly, the mist that Johnta had summoned zipped towards the two of the magistrate's personal guards, repeating the same gruesome death. The Ideal Muse Johnta had the ability to turn blood into dust though, if water were added, it would become blood again. She was not pleased, however, with her time not so well wasted. listulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistu