capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

WHO: Terra, Illidan
WHERE: THE CITY
WHEN: Around 2 am, 5/7. So, before and ~*~after~*~ Alex's warehouse solo rave.
WARNINGS: Do not eat, drink, or smoke this log.
WHAT: Some people get affected by magic. Some people don't. This is one such occasion.
WORDS: yes

It had been... a strange week, to be sure. The boggling magic that was the "Renaissance Faire" had long since dissipated, but it hadn't gone without residue. Things had been uncomfortably strained between Terra and Zelgadis, matters more complicated than ever. True, Terra thought to herself to the sound of her quiet footfalls, things were often complicated in Terra's life, especially where he was concerned, but it was a great deal more pronounced when they shared an apartment. It certainly didn't make it any easier to sort out her own mess of a life.

So it was well, well past midnight, and Terra needed space enough to think. She forewent the roof this time, instead taking a spring night stroll like more normal people.

Well, like normal people would have done six hours ago.

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Terra should really know better than to go walking in the city at night. When the darkness fell, out came the creatures who preferred it, the ones who could see little difference from the sun and the moon. He hadn't been watching her, certainly, but as Terra likely rounded one corner for a new block, Illidan happened to catch sight.

He had been out, scrounging, as he often did for sustenance. Since the uprising of the pests, the city had been remarkably clear of his usual fare. In the dark night, he'd looked up from the filth he'd been fastidiously picking through to catch sight of her. The glow of her magic was something he simply couldn't ignore.

And so, with swift feet, he caught up to her, silently approaching before slowing in tandem. "Good evening, child."

She really should! But former protagonists of video games tend not to be the cautious, stay-at-home sort; one doesn't progress the story if one doesn't keep moving. Not that she thinks this way, of course. Rather, there aren't many people in the City who, Terra feels, is a threat to her.

Which of course meant the one she didn't want to see was the one who found her. A shiver ran up her spine long before she would have heard his feet, had they made a noise. Like always, Illidan's magic traveled faster than he, and the presence of the creature reached her before the man.

It was a blessing, though an uneasy one; it gave Terra the time she needed to prepare herself for the sound of his voice. Hers was steady in reply. "Good evening, Illidan."

He knew she would sense him, the way her own magic gravitated toward him was enough of an indication, and when he finally slowed and spoke, it was with the intention of verbal niceties.

"You are out quite late. Is there an occasion?" he questioned. He knew there wasn't. Perhaps, like he, she was still bothered by what had happened the past week. The ridiculousness of the situation.

She knew that, even if he possessed ordinary eyes, he would be unable to see her gestures. It was for the simple fact that he was not looking directly at her, and he walked too close for her face to be in his periphery. (He was really, really tall.)

It didn't stop her from shaking her head when she spoke. "No occasion. I..." A hesitation, but such was the normal pattern of her speech. "Needed some space to think."

"Ah, yes. Indeed," he agreed, and continued to walk. It was definitely a sight. Terra couldn't even reach his shoulders and he towered over her, with his long strides fewer than hers as she walked.

"Magic is fickle, is it not? We re the masters of it, and yet in no time, we find ourselves bewitched by something new, that our own abilities had not thought of. That we were not prepared for."

Yes, yes he did say it.

She hummed a quiet note in acknowledgment, bowing her head as they walked. Aside from that fair, this was the first time Terra and Illidan had met in person since she had reacquired her power — since she could feel the magic emanating from him after he created his well. Though their encounter thus far has been brief, the longer they walked, the heavier it seemed to press against her senses. It was almost enough to disorient her, but her feet kept moving forward on the straight path.

"I thought I felt it coming... but it was too late for me to do anything about it." This was more of a normal thing for Terra; she was no 'master' of magic. "I'm surprised you were affected."

Really, she was more surprised that he was even there in the first place.

"Indeed. Had I been truly myself, it would have been no match," because he needed that reassurance. The knowledge that he could have stopped it if he had wished. "However, it was indeed like a rush, and no speed would have been enough to put an end to that nonsense," he paused in his speech, but his feet did not stop moving.

He'd really come out of curiosity. That humans could be so fascinated by what he considered normal perplexed him. Why is it that they wished to create a world not unlike his? However, his curiosity had indeed been rewarded. By a mere flutter in the breeze, in fact.

"I believe it was because a child's clothing had become stuck on me," he answered finally, a bit stiffly. Horns were an inconvenience.

"A child's... clothing?" she asked, attempting to glance up at his face before giving up on that. "Why?"

"I have protrusions from my forehead, I am certain you noticed. Some child lost his cape. The magic, it centered on those who were wearing the garb of the era," he paused. "It is to be assumed that clothing was the catalyst of the change," he explained.

"Oh!"

It was a startled little revelation, for Terra had not encountered many in the fairgrounds who had not been affected; she had assumed that it was just the location that was cursed, not more finely tuned than that. "I hadn't realized..."

"The advantage, one would say, to seeing magic," he smiled for only a moment, before looking down at her, twin sparks glittering beneath the dark blindfold.

"And you, child. You were affected as well, it seems."

She bowed her head; not nodding, but keeping her face down. "I was."

In tone she sounded chastised, but it was not disappointment in herself, or shame, for being affected. Rather, she was worried as to where Illidan would take this conversation. They had met, the three of them, during the spell's hold. She, he, and Zelgadis all had been captured by that strange magic, and none of them had known one another for who they were.

Terra and Illidan had not precisely made instant friends.

"You were indeed wary of me, I am curious," he said, his lip falling into something more like a sneer. "Why such an attitude would fall to you. Have I been nothing but kind toward you? Was it the spell itself that tainted your opinion of me? Or perhaps was it Zelgadis?"

"You have," she agreed, for it was true. He wasn't particularly selfless about it, or doing kindness to her for her sake alone, but Illidan had never been unkind to her. To Zelgadis, however...

He had already suffered enough on her behalf; the last thing she wanted was for more suffering to befall him because of her actions.

"But... like you, I couldn't... truly remember anyone. Everyone was a stranger to me..."

Her shoulders rolled in a shrug, and she lifted her head as she continued, hoping that he would believe her. She spoke truthfully. "The disadvantage to feeling magic... is how frightening power can feel. I... you terrified me, Illidan."

Midway through her speech, Illidan had been about to stop her with a snap, a command, but at that moment, he saw somehting and completely ignored the last. It was a haze that was starting to blanket the city itself, covering every inch of the buildings, slowly from top to bottom.

His eyes narrowed as he watched it. Yet another spell? This one was indistinct, incapable of being read or discovered. Something about it...

By the time it was close enough for each intricate weave to be read, it was too late, and like an instant flash, what was once large, and dark, and powerful wasn't there anymore. What was there was still quite tall, but different, the magic in him softer and not so formidable. The potential was there, of course. It always had been, but Illidan was no longer Illidan with horns and tattoos lacing across his chest. Instead, it was unmarred and still in just the pants he'd worn moments ago. He looked up and around, eyes no longer green and held behind a blindfold, but gold and full, and they were real eyes. Well, as real as a night elf's could get.

Edited 2011-05-07 20:40 (UTC)

The magic that had so transformed him had washed past Terra without effect, but not without notice. She staggered a step before halting in their walk, dizzied, trying to right the world around her. With the heavy dark of Illidan's usual magic cleared away, it was almost like falling out of a dark pit into moonlight. Not brilliant like the day, but light enough to make an unworldly difference.

With the change as drastic as that, Terra should have been prepared to see some great change in Illidan himself, but she was not; his most distinctive features were gone, and if she had not been walking beside him this whole time, she might not have even recognized him.

Even then, she was uncertain. Terra had to take a step back to look him over, eyebrows bending for her concentration. "... Illidan?" she asked, almost expecting to be wrong.

"Who?" he asked, his voice came out higher, and it was not English, but his native tongue. He tipped his head in curiosity at the girl, his eyes finally actually focusing on her.

Wow. Was she a human? He hadn't seen humans before. She was pretty! He found his mouth stuck and trying to figure out the words that he couldn't say. "Who are you?"

Unfortunately, the native tongue of Night Elves was not one Terra understood, and so his sudden speech left her confused. The questioning tones she understood, but not the content. "I don't understand," she replied, her words slow and attention fixed. "Illidan? That... that is you, isn't it?"

She spoke the common tongue? He paused, and shook his head. "Me? Yes, I am Illidan, who are you? How do you know me?" he asked.

He was finally straightening, and taking in everything. Absorbing what the city was, how people were everywhere and there were screams and squeals echoing dully in the background.

Considering they just went through a spell where they had no recollection of one another, it really wasn't that surprising that the Illidan before her (who was not the Illidan she knew and ... tolerated...) didn't recognize her. Regardless, the whole experience was jarring, and Terra struggled to find her conversational footing.

"I... you don't remember me." She said it more to assure herself than to inform him; with the idea more firmly in place, it became easier for her to speak. "My name is Terra."

He blinked at her. "I know you? I don't even know where I am, let alone..." he trailed off, looking around the city again.

"Let alone you! Where am I?"

"You... did. Or maybe it was another... you..."

Terra was not used to playing welcoming committee, and it showed; she struggled to find a place to start.

"This is no land you would know. It's a human world. You're the only..." What had he called himself? Terra paused, trying to dig up old conversations; there was a worried hesitation as she spoke. "... Kal... dorei? That I have known here."

"You know of my people?" that's all he has for a moment, as he stops to consider what she's telling him. There's an older him? He's been here? She knows him?

"You know of me? You know my name, so therefore we must be acquaintances!" he shrugs, and has gotten to the stage where he bounces back a little bit, and smiles cockily.

"I made a pretty friend!"

Stop.

What.

What?

Terra had to blink rapidly at her own confusion at that phrase, especially coming from Illidan — for the only time she heard the word friend fall from his lips, he was always referring to Zelgadis, and more often than not it was with belittling tone. To have Illidan declare them friends was, well. Continuing the trend of things happening that Terra wasn't suspecting, truth be told.

(The 'pretty' part was unexpected too, especially when juxtaposed with the fact the Illidan Terra knew was blind and thus had never truly seen her face, but it was pale in comparison to 'friend.')

Eventually she managed to force herself past that. This wasn't the Illidan she knew, of course, and he wasn't the one who had taken and then cursed Zelgadis worse than he'd started. If he didn't recognize her, then he'd have no idea who Zelgadis was, even if they met on the street. That realization made some of the tenseness in her shoulders ease, relaxing.

"Yeah," she replied, belatedly managing a smile in return.

He nodded, as if that was all he needed to know! And it was, mostly. Illidan didn't really like questioning things all that much. That was his brother's job, so the confused look just got a slightly quirked eyebrow over his golden eyes, and then he crossed his arms.

"So, we were walking? That's kind of boring, isn't it? Is there something to eat in this place? I'm starving!" and thus proving to Terra, that Illidan was once pretty much a normal teenage boy.

Teenage being relative. He was several thousand years old now.