Demented_Delila

Dele reads the letter a few times, squinting after a bit like she's stared at the sun too long. "Be free you magnificent gremlin. Go on, go terrorize Anethra in her basement more and throw some boots. Enjoy your retirement." She'd then just... stash the letter away into a much too large book called... "**** Ikur Did"

THE BALLOT ((MC name: Demented_Delila )) Name: Dele Seregon Vote for Okarir'tir : ( XX ) Valorin Celia'thilln ( ) Ellisar Aevaris ( ) Olrin Hildinyr

╔✦Seregon Goods✦╗ ╚ ✦ & Imports ✦ ╝ Established in the First Age, Early 1740s, Arcas. When I established Seregon Goods and Imports, I was not expecting it to prosper as long as it has. When I established it, I expected to leave it all behind, but such expectations were seen to be false. Now, I stand in the early twilight of the Second Age, my shop standing once again in Karinah’siol, same as it did in Laureh’thilln. I am proud of the preservation that has come with my business. I am hopeful for the many more contacts I am bound to make through my endeavours, and grateful for the ones I already have. In Arcas, I had two shops, my main location in Laureh’thilln, Haelun’or, and a stall in Helena’s busy streets. Now, in Almaris, I am currently standing at one shop in the Ellir’siol Shopping Centre in Karinah’siol. A secondary location has not yet been decided, as everyone is aware that the economy is a little rocky. Seregon Goods and Imports was founded on a few base ideals… ✦ High Quality Goods for Low Costs ✦ Unique Goods, not found anywhere else. ✦ Our homebrewed liquors, local to Haelun’or ✦ As well as the import of foreign goods so that the Mali’thill may have access to such goods within the city, without risking safety in inclimate relations with the rest of the world. What started as a tiny project for a festival in the Duchy of Westmarch many years ago, with a few blankets and toys, has grown into this. I can’t say I’d have it any other way, as unexpected to me as it was. Here's too many more years in business. [!] Included are drawings of some of the current stock in Seregon Goods and Imports. It is not a complete list, it seems.

"Don't you worry, I'll be back home soon." Luisa watched the cold wind blow on the boughs of the fir trees beyond that outer gate, biding her father-in-law good bye. She , in that moment, did not expect this to be the last time she would speak to him. She left, with Rosalind at heel, the whole city in a minor uproar about some sort of wolfish creature that seemed too unnatural in her mind. Yet, she thought Ivan would be coming home. She believed it. He was too stubborn to die without goodbyes... surely? The news would've broke her when Manfred approached her, asking for a private conversation, away from her now five year old daughter Marie, were she not knowing of Ivan's death soon to come. It ached the way broken bones ached when it rained, deeply within her chest. Her first thought flickered to her will, given to her many years prior to then, just in case. Telling Angelika was harder then she thought it'd be, to tell the woman who loved a man for so many years that her husband was dead, when already her son was gone too. She told Angelika in the Bascilla, sat with her there in that back pew, staring up at the ceiling and counting seconds that ticked by before the woman spoke her denial and grief. The older woman was praying when she left. It was time to tell her own husband of his father's passing, albeit heroic feat, it would hurt all the same. Marie, too, would need to be explained to as best as one could explain death to a five year old. Her little voice broke her heart when the question came from her lips... "Does he not want to see me anymore?" They cried as a family for a time after that, before innocent, big brown eyes closed and went to sleep, too tired by her grief to stay awake much longer. When she went to lay to sleep at last that night, she stared up at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach. Ruben laid beside her, and whether or not her husband heard her solemn words didn't bother her at all. "You said you'd come back home. Niet the home you were supposed to leave for yet..."

Dele had received her letter, ever so sobered by the news of losing the man she'd come to call her son. She spirits away to a quiet spot in the woods and drinks from a bottle of Carrion Black that she remembered him giving her. There beneath that tall silver tree she wept to the sky as the red sun set over the horizon, tears streaming down her freckled face. "It is because of this that I survived as long as I did, constant pushing myself because I knew that at least one person cared." Her heart shattered for the thousandth time as she re-read his letter for the thousandth time since receiving it. A mother's love knew no bounds, even when the child wasn't her own. This was not the first time she had to bury her mortal sons that she found in life, rather then by blood. She wanders, crying softly, in the island forests. Silver trees serve as audience to her mournful display as the woman trails barefoot through them, talking as if he were there for now. She processed her grief alone. "I, well I didn't have much of a mother for many years. Thank you for being like one when I needed one most." The elf tucks her letter back into her coat, settling down at an isolated site she had started to use as a campsite, and quietly prepares something to eat. A small plate made from clay, a cup as well, was left on the stones of the campfire when she left. A silent offering for her fair rosebud, of braised hare and the cup filled with Carrion. She left that place when she was ready, the dawn ticking by and the fire drying the tears on her face. She knew Astoro was safe elsewhere, now, and free from mortal pain... That comforted her in a sort of sobering way. "Stay safe, mal'ii... I'll be seeing you."

THE BALLOT ((MC name: Demented_Delila )) Name: Dele Seregon Vote for Okarir'nor: ( X ) Maeve Elibar'acal ( X ) Aestenia Aevaris

Luisa Klaire Barclay nudges her husband to show him the invitation, grinning. She was quite proud of her nephew, seeing how much he'd grown!

IGN (MC Username): Demented_Delila Discord: Delila#0510 Likes: RP Items, ST Signed Stuff, Books, Skins & Art stuffs. As long as there's nice thoughts put into it. Dislikes: Do not spend IRL money on me, and especially don't give me random junk (like eggs? or berries? Please no.)

15th of the Snow's Maiden, Year 1 of the Second Age They say that all good things must come to an end. I suppose that’s true. I’ve served the Silver State for many, many years, since the beginning of the Azorella Reforms. I might say, it’s been…. Quite a long time, and I grow tired. My children return home, and I watch them grow into proper ‘thill in society. I’m tired, terribly so, and I do not believe I can best serve the city like this. The flight from Arcas to this place we call now Almaris has been straining, stressful, and diresome in the least. I must, unfortunately, resign myself from this title I’ve held for so long. I’ve seen many students prosper, many festivals under way, and my time has been spent wisely, I believe. It is time now for me to beckon someone else to take this work, this legacy I’ve strove to create, and put it to use for something greater. I am but the spinner of the start of this tale, and I welcome for the tailor who will use these threads for something grander. Like the sun, I lay my head down and allow myself this respite. May there come a moon in the twilight, ready to do better than myself. Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya, It has been a pleasure.

Luisa looks over the armorial, holding it aloft so that her son Wilheim Ioann could not attempt to eat or grab it. She nods along, finding this to be a well put together and aesthetically pleasing missive... ”Das ist gut.”

”Ich am being to notice a pattern in these poems....” The Barclay comments to her hedgehog after finding the newest selection of poems from darling Ruben. The woman simply tucks the page back to wherever she’d uncovered it from. She was mildly concerned, once again, about how drunk the man had been.

Luisa would find this poem, eventually, squinting as she reads it once. Then twice. Then thrice, just for god measure. She isn’t quite sure what to make of it, truly, beyond that Ruben was probably high on frostvine or something, or maybe very drunk. “Ich do niet understand this, at all. Oh, ich guess he listened to me talking about pastel gems the other night...”

Let the catmen live, please?

Discord: Delila#0510 Peach Hanbok – 800

How much would it cost to ask for this one without the head?

A passing mali’aheral squints at the flier and shook her head. “Valah grow stupider every damn day.” A mali’ker woman would spy the flier. “Well that’s certainly objectifying. Go **** yourself, with a cactus.” She’d then shove it into her dress pocket to shred into bedding for one of the rabbits.

She’d overslept and the first words she’d been told when she entered the tavern… were of the passing of Daichia. Spirits, his presence lingered. A wedding that was only just a few years prior- done in secret with just the two of them. She fled from the Tavern as they spoke on it, it felt like a lie. It felt like a dream from which she’d awake and all would be alright… but his children wouldn’t lie, there was no reason to. Daichia had spoken to her about accepting his death, if it ever came. Delphi curls up in orange and yellow, feeling… alone for the first time in a very long time. The bat chirps in her bag, hearing the gentle weeping of her adoptive mother. The ‘ker scoops her up, resting her forehead against the creature’s. “Zaichik- Zaichik- Surely this is but a dream… I will awake and Luara’s Light will shine upon us once more…” She’d shut her eye, praying softly as she held Estelle to her chest, rubbing the sweet young bat’s ears. She’d begin to sing as the tears drip down her face onto his pillow, her tone tinged in sadness. “Sleep my beautiful boy, quietly the Moon is looking into your room. I will tell you fairy tales, and sing you little songs, but now you must slumber, with your eyes closed.” The singing ceases as she cannot keep from weeping. The next elven day passes in utter silence from her.

Seregon "Tayna eth'ehya tilru Haelun'or." Family Tree: Traits: Beliefs: OOC:

Dread was most definitely the best way she felt when the news of Alvah’s death reaches her. Guilt, too, rises in her throat like bile. She’d been so horrible to her earlier, because p some reckless mistake. Now, she couldn’t apologize for that. The emotions weave into some awful tapestry of words as the sleepless elfess mourns the third death of someone special in the last five years. “... I hope you’re listening... I hope you know... Mayan’s gonna miss you.... you idiot sandwich….”

RP Name: Delphi Saoirse MC Username: Demented_Delila Discord: Delila#0510 What Nation Are You Affliated With?: Asimu’lei Why Do You Wish To Come?: To learn more of the past, least our future be endangered by it. Besides, it’d be pretty cool to meet a Dragur. Also gotta keep an eye on Daichia and other Asimu’lei folks... What Skills Can You Bring: Medical skills, motherly life, I’ll be able to use whatever you throw at me! Also have a slayer steel pole spear (oocly lost due to shitty chunks)... so that should help somewhat?

Who gave you the right to be so sweet and kind? Goodness, and don’t you know the creed? Do no harm but take no ****, and frankly you’ve never given me ****. Anyways, I don’t think i’ll ever quite forget all the silly thing you do that make me laugh. Doesn’t matter how shitty a day I’ve had, you always seem to deliver quality memes when you’re around. I wonder if I can find that picture of Talareh opening up on the table like the funky lil space worm he is... Seregon-Miravaris-Aldin Mafia forever, lots of love, your favorite elf doctor https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/625735929549553694/644336556093734932/image0.jpg

A High Elf Physician cries softly as she boils water to pour over her table for the sixth time that day. Where is the soap she swears she had some years back? She does not remember... it was but an odd, distant dream- one that she misses dearly. Anything would be better then this. In between it all she does her best to stay clean, pouring hot water and plant oils all over her body. What ever happened to the blessed thing that seemed to only exist in her dreams? What of the missive she wrote, warning for people to properly dilute lye when using it for cleaning? She doesn’t remember. It never existed.

IGN (MC Username): Demented_Delila Discord: Delila#0510 Likes: Art, Good Books, Trinkets, Toys, Clothing, Hunting Trophies (Hearts and Horns, in particular Dislikes: Random Junk, Re-gifted Items, Drama

“So these are the unfriendly heathens living in our blessed Silver Forest, pouring blood out on our roads of our kinsmen and our allies...” The Head Physician muses for a moment, mulling the news over. Dele takes a swig from her cup of coffee and breaks her moments of silence. “Get Fucked.”

A mali’thill would be torn between screeching or sobbing upon seeing the posters of Illiran pasted about Ves! “Resisting arrest? Being just a ‘warlock’? You all are detached from the truth of what he is. He is an impure, guilty of murder and several attempts of attempted murder. He should’ve remained dead , capture the wretch if you see him. So we may make him pay tenfold for the life of Gusten Faeliel.” She would hurry off, back to the Silver State as she had forgotten why she’d come to begin with.