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"I am a good sweet talker and moderator... I am used to soothing egos and disabling fights between other scribes..."

I shut slightly looking around "I know a spell but I don't want to waste too much magic energy... Or I will pass out..."

“Yes I’m sure you are miss, now if you excuse me I need to find a high enough advantage point to see the celestial arrangements and figure out where we are. No offense to the rest of you but the fallen smell like rotting corpses, you Aaron smell foul. I would ask that you find an opportunity to bath before we are all forced to kill each other for sport.”
He purposed passively, gliding away to a spot in the clearing where he could see the stars.

“Good to know,” he muttered as the Starborn wandered off, “you don’t smell too good either, though.” He was somewhat offended by that comment, mostly because he had always thought himself to have a pumice scent. He began to search for a source of water, following the sound of rushing streams and leaving a trail of burnt grass behind him; not like he had a choice, as anything flammable was slightly singed after he touched it, unless he wore gloves or some other hand attire.

I look at both males making a slight snort “testostorone...” i follow the sound of the water source as well. With a slight movement you see a flash of light and a small desert fox squirms between your legs running in front of you towards the water.a red ribbon on her neck similar to the scarf i wear.

Behind you there is no One anymore as i had shifted into one of my favorite animal forms

He was dazed for a moment before he realized this branch of her power. “I guess I should have seen that coming sooner,” he remarked as she rushed past, “makes me wish I had that ability.” He had been denied such transformative skills because Netharan has no desire to have his “perfect” children running around as a Kandrobak (Sabertoothed Tortoise, as is more commonly known) or something small and wild; unless it was rage or a dragon (for his more fortunate offspring), he sought to keep them human-like for other purposes. Returning to the present, he focused his thoughts on Vanador’s reasoning for drawing him into the fray, as well as those of other pantheons; perhaps his father had some play in the actions taken, which could only mean that this was going to be worse than he had thought. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

I look back pawing at the floor. I make some soft noises and continue running i know my shapeshifting is rare but my father has no other children because of our power. He is the god of trickery and the dessert Heat and mirages. He has no real form and neither do I my traning is that of scribes and my looks similar to the priestess he had lusted after.

He followed after her, knowing that she might have a better sense of hearing than he did in her fox shape. His interest in her only increased as they moved along, mostly of her powers and her lineage; he had never met a Fallen Lord who had exhibited these abilities, nor any of the Risen or the Beyond, which further perplexed him.

(Word of mention: if you want to suggest/include romance, I’m all for it.)

He traced lines in the stars, his fingers connecting point after point as he muttered to himself. In the cool grass as the wind swept across his features, he looked up to the heavens and observed. The night sky a perfect mirror to his darkened eyes. Eventually, he finished tracing the shapes and moved at a slow and almost floating like pace that made him seem ethereal.

“The eight pointed star of the north is shown from the east, which means we are heading westward currently. If we keep going this way in the morning, we should be able to find an old temple where we can seek temporary refuge for at most a few days.”

I am running ahead I look back at you guys every couple of feet to check you are still following. I nod being able to understand you. We arrive at a small stream and I yap happily.

I shift back my clothes taking a bit longer to appear but I don't seem to mind being used to this side effect of shifting from one form to the other. Fixing my scarf so it covers my hair and slight of my face.

"Fresh water ... We can follow the stream..." I kneel down and take some water in my hands you hear me murmur in another language before drinking from the water.

((I am down for romance))

((Alright then))

“I’ve heard many languages before,” Aaron mused, “but I’ve never come across yours before; it’s strange, but also calming, in a way.” It was true, he had felt some semblance of peace as she had performed the spell, but he had no idea as to why that was. He was aware that the Starborn had returned, but he was ignoring him for the moment; he was still sore about the corpse-smell comment.

"its an ancient and forgotten language... I learned it from the older scribes and they learned it from the older ones and so on dating to when the world was new..." with a slight shake of my head I drink some more water and you see me eat a single date before placing them back in my bag.

I smell like sunshine and spices, but also like old scrolls and temples since many spells required spices and such ingredients they had become something that lingered in my clothes and hair and skin. Now that you are closer you notice my tattoos aren't made with ink instead they were burned and seared into my skin the wound later slabbed with dust made of metals and charcoal so even when they healed they would stay black. they glitter in soft light as it made of black stardust.

"I know it is very alluring in how it sounds... but it is a cold language much like the training and magic passed down with it... the ma-at runes are the written counterpart of it done when a scribe has finished their training and swears loyalty to the House of Ankh, sorry umm I know it sounds confusing... to an outsider none of these words make any sense... please excuse my ranting..." as I speak I trail the marks down my skin especially those in my forearm and thigh. I drop the scarf from covering my face and hair leaving it wrapped across my neck.

“I have actually heard something very similar in Arthenad,” he remembered, “they have a number of Scrolls and spells in the Great Archive... that and mechanical scorpion assistants that organize the writings. I think you’d like it there, if we ever get out of this ‘competition’ alive and with all our limbs intact.” While he had only been there once, he could still hear the whirring and wizzing of mechanical creations, the bustling of the markets, the smell of spice and oil washing over him like a wave; it was foreign, yet it felt like a home away from home for him. “I bet you even share a similar pantheon,” he mused, “though it could be a bit different from the one you know.”

"Maybe... but... I wouldn't bet on it... my pantheon has long receted the only slightly active was my father and that was long ago... Seth... as for the library it piques my interest" I make a hieroglyph of sorts and a rose made of flames blossoms on my palm. I place it on the top of the water and it turns into steam. " I would offer you a similar thing but our archives are closed to those that aren't trainees or scribes... but I love the spice market nearby... the smell of cinnamon and coffee and of drying flowers in the heat of the sahara burning bright..." as the flame disappears you see the golden glow diminish it is only slight but there as if magic takes from my energy even if I was born with the powers. even shifting consumes energy and if that energy is not replenished it takes from my life source.

A concerned look spread across Aaron’s face. “Are you going to be ok,” he asked, “is there any way to restore what you lose?”

((She didn't say that last part but ill roll with it))

"food sleep and meditation help but it takes time... shifting takes the most energy and portals as well" With a sigh, I splash water on my face to help me wake up.

“If my assumptions are correct. The pantheon you claim is not from this realm. In fact they are known not to initiate in relations with mortal beings, instead inhabiting select mortals with a peice of their soul. Your very existence in any realm is astounding. I must study further if we survive these coming days.”
He mutters to himself, having been ignored this entire time. Giving a sigh as he pinches the skin between his eyes.
“Just like a son of the fallen to flirt with a foreign being even with the threat of death over his head.”

“I don’t... what do you mean flirting,” he shot back, “and when in Oblivion did you get here?!? You of all people should know that splitting up here is a terrible idea.” He crossed his arms across his chest, a flicker of rage building in his eyes. “You aren’t completely blameless either, Starborn,” he continued, “just because you are the child of Stelleron doesn’t mean you have the right to ridicule me; none of us had a choice who we were born to, least of all me. I’ve been running most of my life because I was different than him, because I was born of a Fallen, and just because I may have burned something here or there. So stop attacking me and let’s just find our way out of here; I’ve got a feeling it’s going to get worse soon.”

"they aren't known for it but in places of high magic and if said magic is done by a descendant of the high house of ankh... they can appear in human form... if they wish... but my gods are fickle things they usually don't like meddling with human affairs, but Seth is not like the others... he is confusing on his best days"I answer softly

"so I'm guessing I got kidnapped by some other deity?" this one I ask it to no one, in particular, I yawn slightly making a soft animal-like noise. "as for what he says I know about similar things... I as a daughter of Seth have been looked down most of my life, my father is a chaotic trickster who changes alliances more than I change shape... but that doesn't make me evil or a liar by birth... you are what you choose to be and who you choose to become, you should not be judged by something you can't control... like gender or who your parent is..."

this topic seems like a rather sore spot for me the tattoos flaring as does my anger and temper my eyes glimmer with unseen flame and fury an inferno in human skin has been one of the many things I've been called. two-faced whore and less than pleasing things as well. I had fought to be proven worthy of the house of life and had to fight to be able to even train with other scribes.

“I’m guessing so,” Aaron turned away from Starborn, “I think Vanador may be to blame; he finds cruel joy out of pitting halfimmortali against each other. But you’re right, it is who we chose to make ourselves, not where we come from or what we were unable to chose.”

I nod softly happy for once someone else understands what it's like to suffer because of your parentage. The brightness slowly melts as I calm myself down. I ruffle my curls softly a sheepish smile on my lips. "Sorry about my small outburst..."