Private Sunshine and Moonlight

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Teresa Pelles | Darth Pellax ​

There was a soft breeze that flowed through the tall grasses of the meadow, swaying the blades in rhythm with the wind. The faint smell of sweet pea blossoms and violets scented the air. Amidst the clearing within the flowering meadow stood an imposing figure, towering at 7'0'' in height. He was a beauty to behold, with finely sculpted musculature and long pearly-white hair that cascaded over broad shoulders. Upon his back were two large wings, their feathers fanning out in a mighty stretch as they basked beneath the sun's golden rays. The white feathers held a prismatic sheen, casting iridescent prisms across the swaying flowers.

He was dressed in dark breeches and a white shirt that laced up the front, clinging tightly to his form as crystal droplets of water dripped off him, pooling at his feet. The white shirt had taken on a translucent effect from the water that still clung to it, while his long white hair coiled in waves, cascading down his back and shoulders, casting wet ringlets that framed his soft features.

Having just stepped out of the nearby crystal-clear river, this walk in the flowering fields was as welcomed as the sun kissing his skin. Bare feet trod across soft zoisha grass, feeling its sponginess below. He was carefree in the moment, enjoying the simple wonders of nature and living in the moment as crystal-blue eyes fluttered shut, breathing in the warm, sweet winds and allowing the soft psalm of birdsong all around him to envelop him in this moment of relaxing bliss.

 

[Teresa Pelles | Darth Pellax]

Walking along a trail that ran parallel with the river, the woman could feel the long grass brushing against her legs and wings. The smells that filled the air were calming, relaxing even. Mixed with the sound of the breeze and waves, the rustling leaves and grass sounded like an ocean. However, the best part was the warmth of the sun against her porcelain white skin, which seemed glossy from light perspiration.

Given the warmth of this place, her clothes were light, with enough fabric to be deemed modest. It was easy to see the toned shapes that looked like they had been sanded to a soft finish. Her long, slightly wavy black hair flowed down her back. Eventually, she heard the sounds of water splashing from further ahead. Golden-orange eyes kept a lookout, but the sun made it hard to see far ahead without feeling blinded.

Teresa's attention remained to her left, looking among the grass and river for a person or animal, whatever it was that created that sound. Eventually, she could make out the man, almost purely white. Against such a bright backdrop, it was no wonder it took a moment to make him out. Something, however, certainly caught the woman's attention... Another with wings similar but different to her own. While hers seemed to absorb the light, his reflected it almost. Slowly getting closer, she was in two minds whether to perhaps greet or just walk past.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Teresa Pelles | Darth Pellax
​

Matthew's short, pointed ears twitched at the sound of footsteps that were not his own. He shifted, opening his eyes and lowering his hands, his wings closing slightly as he glanced over his shoulder and spotted a shapely woman walking in the meadow. Surprised to see someone else out here, let alone another person with wings, his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise, then to a warm, inviting smile. He turned towards her, facing her properly and drawing his hands to his sides, which were previously held outstretched above waist level with his palms up. Gently turning his palms down, he bent, bowing his head in a dip as he offered her a playful greeting, with a gentle flourish of one of his hands. As he bent, his gaze flicked upwards, his piercing blue eyes staring at her curiously through the veil of snowy white bangs.

"Good afternoon~ I didn't anticipate meeting anyone out here, let alone anyone so breathtaking," he greeted before straightening his pose, standing up straight as his wings flexed and fanned behind him, offering a singular idle flap that sent a playful gust of wind rippling across the tall grasses.

The playful smile faded into a devious sort of smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth, as if he knew something. His eyes narrowed gleefully towards her as he drew a length of the long winding locks over one shoulder, raking long, sharpened nails through the wet tresses, straightening them out and preening in a faux self-conscious manner as his gaze stayed locked on her, meeting her eyes with his.

"Forgive me; I hadn't intended to be so brash as to bathe so freely in front of a lady."

​

 

[Teresa Pelles | Darth Pellax]

Getting much closer her eyes studied the figure before her, even with that laced up shirt it was not so hard to make out the man's frame. "My, aren't you are quite the charmer," Teresa said with a grin watching his wings move and the subtle shift of hair. The Valkyrie could not help chuckle at his next statement as she drew a little closer still sticking to the somewhat path. "Forgive you for what exactly? I am not so bashful to be embarrassed so easily by the sight of another bathing."

"But, I did not see anything if you are wondering. A shame on my part, I bet it would've been quite the sight." The woman teased unable to resist her nature to do so. Yet the distance she kept showed the caution too. "It's rare to see others with wings and you do not strike me as a Valkyrie. Means your are something different from me. Can't say I am not curious now I see you up close."

Matthew of Valendale​

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Teresa Pelles | Darth Pellax
​

Matthew's smile deepened, a hint of mischief playing at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps... But I would wager the view I'm enjoying right now holds a higher quality," he said with a gentle smirk.

"A Valkyrie, you say?" He echoed thoughtfully, committing the word to memory. He shook his head slightly, sending wet, pearly white ringlets cascading over his shoulder. Gently, he wrung the water from their lengths, still dripping wet and eager to free himself from the clinging droplets of moisture. Spreading his wings, their prismatic sheen dazzling under the sunlight, he shook them vigorously, each quill snapping out like a pin cushion to shed the extra weight of water. He flapped them languidly, sending a soft breeze rustling through the tall grass, making them shimmer and sparkle.

"No, ma'am, I'm what you might call a Divinarie, the solar variant," he explained softly. "My name is Matthew; may I have the pleasure of learning to what name such a sweet flower is called?"