Snippet #2763063

Calliope was one of the first aboard the vessel. The ghostly evening seemed to whisper spells and enchantments. The comfortable breeze caressedher face, and brush her long, ivory hair behind her shoulder. She admired the vehicle which carried her 'cross the lurching waters. The boat cradled them; protectively -- substantially, although, the shifting of the boat felt unnatural beneath her armored feet. There was a rhythm to the rock of it. It was predictable, rather than random. Calliope's black robes crisply folded beneath her on the seat which she sat, and in the dim light of the evening, her skin seemed to radiate. Her hands were folded precisely on her lap, and her composure was stately and confident.

Calliope sat furthest from the majority of the group, which was not saying much since most of the passengers had spread themselves out over the length of the trip. Still, she had secluded herself in the most isolated corner she could find. It was not for any reason other than her overwhelming disinterest in the other Exalted individuals. Her eyes were fixed hundreds of yards in the distance, unchanging. The gold beneath her pupils caught the fire light from time to time, shimmering. Her deceptively soft facial features, were chiseled into distinguished focus. She was meditating, only it didn't appear relaxed. Calliope had discovered that she could preserve her energy if she maintained focus for long periods of time. This was what she had chosen to do with her time.

It was the timbre of raised voices that eventually drew her attention. From a few glances, she observed the characters in question. It started with the boarding of the gaunt looking man. While his demeanor was meek and cowardly, there was something about his presence that upset the dynamic of the boat. But it was the dark-haired creature that ignited the hostility. She was rugged and unyielding. She oozed trouble. Calliope noted that Astrid's impulsive dimness posed to be dangerous. Not soon after the mediator stepped in, he spoke with the tongue of a bog dweller. Well travelled. Manipulative. A potential peace-keeper.

Calliope could feel the whispers in the wind pick up speed as this 'Ashen' spoke. She submerged herself back into deep focus, this time, closing her eyes. She could feel the sea-like current of his monologue flow smoothly from his lips. Only when she had slipped back into mediation could she smell the enchantment this character was casting on the boat. It worked. It soothed her. And she resisted. She cared not for the trickery of synthetic-empathy. She wished to keep her mind clear of spell-bound pollution. Calliope inhaled deeply as she felt the energy of the boat rise and settle. She forgot the whole of them, and emptied her mind, preparing for the heavy task ahead of them.