Who: Aria and Kennet What: Flashback When: Centuries ago. Prompt: First Impressions Warnings: TBD
She had been watching him from a distance for some time now. A Mediterranean Sea breeze had carried her to the seaside city of Messana, and it was there, observing the bustle of humanity in its streets, that she first saw him. There had been an otherness about him, something almost imperceptible and just beneath the surface, from the languid grace of his movements to the hints of flame that gleamed from behind his dark eyes when you glanced at him just so... she had been instantly curious, of course, and who could blame her? Her existence was measured only by currents of air and wind, by the whispering comforts of her sisters who danced alongside her. Men were always a pleasant distraction, but this, this man-shaped fire, was something entirely novel and exciting altogether, brimming with dangerous allure even despite (or perhaps more so because of) the frantic warnings of her siblings.
They spoke to her of danger, of the hungering, destructive nature of fire and Djinn, a word that tasted mischievous on her tongue and did nothing to curb her desire to be nearer, to speak to it, to ask it questions, to satiate that curiosity of an element that was foreign and yet appealed so to her own.
As was becoming increasingly and exasperatingly typical, she had ignored their caution with flippant disregard. She took solid form, slipping down into the lively marketplace as the sun reached its apex in the sky, the air thick with hazy summer heat. She appeared a young woman, her hair long and dark against the shoulders of the floor-length tunic she wore, her eyes a bright, inquisitive olive green.
Humans were quite fascinating creatures. They were stupid, of course, in the way that most mortal things were at least a little stupid, but she had also found them to be capable of such beautiful creations that she could hardly fault them for it. She always found herself somewhat giddy when surrounded by such things as their music, their art, and their passions, and this soiree into the center of the city was no exception; the thrill of the game she played with the (apparently) unwitting fire elemental only added to the fun of it all. She paused once or twice to admire the wares of a vendor or two and allowed herself to dally by a man playing a flute to enjoy the tune, but her real sights were on the man – the Djinn, she reminded herself – and she slipped easily through the throng to keep pace with his long-legged strides, closing the distance between them to get a closer look.