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io

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martes melampus | air | fiach cuimhnigh

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her pulse stutters with the ache of a wound. [break][break]

at first glance languid and apathetic, io harbours the second nature of wind: that which billows out to fill the unbridgeable silences, the constant, the hushed waltz of a mellow harmony beneath the taste of open air. her prickly demeanour may be forgiven, as where ju claims to have forgotten his past, the unhealed chasm of memory plagues her by extension -- but as an inversion of the original injury. incapable of silencing the swarming tangle of recollections and voices that plague her from time to time, she is irritable and largely uncooperative. most often seen curled around ju’s neck in slumber or following from a partially-hidden vantage point, io is always reserved around strangers and unforthcoming even with friends, making exceptions only for a select few.[break][break]

this impenetrable silence, however, belies the interminable stream of communication between io and ju in telepathy. generally their conversation is mundane banter, but neither feel truly secure without maintaining this connection and will talk whenever the quiet grows uneasy. when the mood strikes, io can oscillate between perceptive and incisively cruel, preferring to volunteer guidance in metaphor and feigned disinterest. she does not suffer indecision or idiocy particularly well, and appreciates self-possession. despite this, io can be disarmingly kind. ju, who is prone to drawing false conclusions and acting with misled impulsivity in the guise of confidence, infuriates her to no end -- they have had their insoluble disagreements in the past and both bear scars of them, but this has only forged an indestructible friendship. in many respects, more than they have realised, ju and io each make up for what the other lacks.[break][break]

in her rare moments of loquacity, io is mercurial and affectionately playful. often, sleep is merely a deceptive facade for the calculating precision with which she takes in her surroundings; thus when she chooses to tease, her remarks can be comedically accurate, and she manipulates her natural gift of intuition to reassure instead of attack. [break][break]

a running joke between io and those who know her well is her longing to have been born a raven instead; io insists that she loathes her amber-gold pelt and startlingly pale face, but privately delights in the vivid colour and is as much a troublemaker as ju himself. although she prefers to remain small and perched haughtily on ju’s shoulder, her true form is sufficiently large for ju to comfortably mount, but io will only resort to this in circumstances of dire need.