<div class="floatleft">(http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab235/bloodiedporcelain/elcharacterpics/childedit1.jpg)</div><em>Solfiria Character Post</em><br/><strong>Time of day beginning post</strong>: Noonish<br/><strong>Time of day ending post</strong>: Noonish<br/><strong>Location beginning post</strong>: Main street outside Seaside Sal's<br/><strong>Location ending post</strong>: Main street outside Seaside Sal's<br/><strong>Characters currently interacting with</strong>: Corann, Nemea<br/><strong>GM Intervention Request\Required?</strong>No<br/><hr/><br/>Sol wasn't entirely sure what to say to this Corann guy. It was like he was intent on getting them both killed. She'd never met someone quite so excited by the idea of charging head first in to battle. Death, glory, combat... it all sounded incredibly stupid, in her opinion. Then again, Sol had seen enough death and near-death in her time, and she got enough danger just doing her own job... there was nothing quite like dealing with a man three times her size going berserk because she'd managed to catch one of his nerves while she was imprinting him with something permanent. Honestly, it was those experiences that meant that Sol looked more forward to temporary imprints than permanent ones... they were less painful.<br/><br/>When his massive hand set itself down on her tiny shoulder, Sol nearly stumbled, and she was absolutely certain that his steady grip was the only reason why she didn't fall over outright. Forcing her legs to stay steady under her, she looked up at him doubtfully as he swore he'd protect her. Somehow, that was nowhere near as comforting as she was sure he meant it to be. Perhaps it was the fact that he seemed like a large child... no man should ever be excited by the idea of death and battle... from what Sol had seen of the world, there was nothing glorious about death. No indeed the young woman, born of storms, thought that seeing glory in death as an overly romantic fantasy.<br/><br/>She had just opened her mouth to tell him she thought he was talking to the wrong person if he was looking for someone to accompany him in to the maws of danger, when another male voice sounded behind her. Turning, she looked over the hand that still held her shoulder at the tall, white haired, red eyed man behind her. Unable to help herself, her brow went up about halfway to her hairline as she looked him over. Good Gods above... what was it with these two? Was it just a big man thing? Glancing between them, she eyed them both doubtfully.<br/><br/>After a moment of looking at the white haired giant, she looked back at Corann and carefully lifted his heavy hand from her tiny shoulder before she rotated her arm, trying to loosen up the muscles that had tensed as she tried to keep her shoulder solid beneath the weight of his hand and arm. "Well... see? Looks like you have another companion already... no need for someone like me, I'd just take up space. You two have a nice day now," she said, trying to sound polite even as she tried to take her opportunity to get the hell out of dodge.<br/><br/>Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small hopeful voice was whispering that there was no guarantee these two would treat her like everyone else had her entire life. The man with the white hair was no doubt in the same boat as her in some ways... his looks were outlandish, no doubt he'd been tormented at times in his life... perhaps he'd understand. And this Corann guy... he wasn't honestly so odd looking, but he wasn't exactly normal either. Perhaps she'd find a place she could be herself without fear of... No. NO! Pushing that hopeful voice in to a closet and locking it away firmly, she shook her head at her own thoughts. She wasn't going to risk it. It wasn't worth it.<br/><br/>Attempting to forget the voice's ideas and to convince herself once more that she was better off alone, she turned to go, though her movements seemed less than eager at moments.