Cally

IGN: CallyI Discord: callypso#0420 (Assuming Inferis is allowed because it is all i shine at, i give you this.) Frost Witch: Silit:

Vladrik II peered unto the missive him and his sister had slaved away at within the lobby of Keep Jerovitz. Now, Vladrik set off to Krusev lands with a shovel and pick, to perhaps rid it of the tree. . . He went with something else, too. A carriage, emptied except for him, the mule, and a bundle of cloth. . . thwacking the reigns to load on the many coffins and urns.

Vladrik Kortrevich II glanced diligently over his final draft of the warning missive. Finally, after placing a signature he sought to retire his quill to its case. Seeking out some peers of his age to post them around. . .!

omg i wanna be a frost witch

[!] Missives spread far and wide, pinned to different areas of Almaris for some, and hopefully loved ones within Karosgrad and Vienne and onwards; delightfully found their way to its contents. ┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓ [!] A depiction of the two soon-to-be weds lounging on their balcony in Drusco; 400 E.S., 14 i Vzmey and Hyff ┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛ For 444 E.S. Droba-Purple Finch on the night of the Woldzkiy holiday, All Hallows. When the moon is at its fullest, the ceremony will begin. (MONDAY, JULY 18TH AT 3PM EST) BRIEF STORY OF THE LOVERS A celebration of two lovers, binding themselves to one another for all their lives. We congratulate the two lovers, Fernanda Cafiel- Cordova and Casimir Wick on their courtship; and invite the correlated parties to their wedding! Casimir and Noemie grew as acquaintances through mutual friends, and made themselves quickly smitten to one another, soon together. Throughout the years, the two lovers served as vagabonds. Casimir lived a more home-bodied lifestyle while Fernanda [once Noemie] ventured into Orenian nobility, and made quick friends with the late matriarch, Hera Claude de Rosius. In the coming years of the less fortunate couple, they broke ties with their mutual home in the outskirts of the East, and took refuge in the South for some time. Here, they spent their quiet life on the countryside, and had time to enjoy one another’s company. It was here, that Casimir put one knee to the terracotta tile of their cottage home and professed his undying love to his dearest forever; Fernanda. With her acceptance, and a decade passing; we bring to you, their wedding ceremony as follows. ACTIVITIES The lovers invite you to not only an orchard picnic and an opera with live music at the reception and prior festivities, but the venue will also feature LIVE CONTORTIONISTS, ICE SCULPTURES and STIMULATING DRINKS with OPTIONS FOR TRANSCENDENCE DROPS to boost your experience of the festivities. ┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓ TAROT READINGS Fernanda herself, along with any of her other definite peers in the mystical will be performing readings with their hands of mysterious tarot. Then, they might decide even the most miniscule of fates for those participants if they so wish to manifest their destiny. RAVEN’S JOUST A tourney of champions in which the bride, and groom themselves will be hosting and most importantly; starring in the Woldzkiy tradition. All guests, invitees, and stragglers alike are invited to join the newlyweds for this moving, and exciting tradition. The winner is crowned ‘Prince/Princess of Crows’ EPIPHANY OF LUX AND CALAVANT OF VERMIN And to top it all off, the bride and groom ask you to witness a parade of fancily dressed vermin of all sorts to celebrate the Wick family animal; the rat. Each rat costume was created by the dame and each were hand picked by the born-Wick for proper inspection. Finally, once the parade is concluded; the guests and newlyweds will release their lanterns, all combining in the sky to conclude the wedding. SPECIAL INVITEES from His & Her: Daija Cafiel, mother of the bride. @GlassySkies Lieya Wick, step-aunt, and close mentor to the groom. @doreebear Petyr Wick, father to the groom and widower. @Jaigalar Aidevo Keta, mentor of the bride and close friend of Lieya. @Bones Hesperia von Drakenhoff, close friend and ally to both the bride and groom. @TheBigBubbles Sumaja, mysterious and mystical mistress, and highly respected figure to both weds. @Zarsies Huberta Daveney, close friend of the bride. @Melpomenne Bacchus, close friend of the bride. @DISCOLIQUID Ilren (?), mentor to the bride and wing-man of all. @BobBox Elizaveta Ulyana Barbanov-Alban, friend of both the bride and groom and sponsor of arrangements. @Moenah Vasati Thelin, close family friend, and wife of Ilren. @Junoix All Remaining Wick descendants are happily invited to the wedding including; -Avram Wick @GlassySkies -Calanthe Wick @doreebear -Barley Wick @Scourge -Sir Candle Wick @HurferDurfer1 -Ludwig Wick @Security_ -Constantine Wick @Xarkly Miss Marion Wieszcz, friend of the bride’s mother, and close family friend. @oliviaaaahr Sir Castiel, close friend of the bride. @un-w Other Invites: Her Royal Majesty, Queen Amadea of Susa @shay Her Excellency, Lady Palatine, Isabel Baruch @sarahbarah Her Highness, Aloisa Liesel Barbanov-Bihar @MotherLay His Royal Majesty, King Karl III Sigma and His Highness, Sergei-Aleksandr Barbanov-Bihar @GMRO Lord Maric Ruthern-Baruch @Demavend Lord Matyas Baruch (cant mention Chris) Lady Georgina Barclay @kaylaa Sir Reinhardt Barclay @Capt_Chief26

[!] The boy's new polyglot allowed for his sightless eyes to scan over the paper through his blindfold. His lips pursed, and Reverend Moon Pie Jr., took a spot on his head to peer down to the paper aswell. The little albino ferret's beady eyes blinked with an unmoving stature. The Red Prince of Slugs took the graceful hand of his Fairest Duchess of Peonies and Dandelions, ( @Moenah) Sadie. He gave a partially grown smile as the children looked out onto their new kingdom.

☽༓☾ "Forgive eam, Father" "For Ea've sinned." ☽༓☾ ☽༓☾ The boy rasped among his own fruition through his teeth- his anger boiled. Not for his dearest Mamej, or papej. . . No, that he was unfavored. "Good blessings, young Kortrevich. What is it that you say amongst the presence of our most Holy Godani's light?" The young Kortrevich snuffed in a breath, and his lips pursed over one another to. . . A quiet reminder to keep his composure. "Do vy believe in past lives, Reverend?" He asked, hushed. He couldn't show it. He just couldn't. Not the pain, not the anxious bubble in the gullet of his throat. It was too much, that confessional became a prison for his own thoughts to bounce off of the wall. Silver, discontent eyes of unfocused quarrels submerged the space in his sightless rays. He was frightened. Vladrik heard as the priest reclined in his wooden seat, hands woven against one another. Those ringed fingers of divinity rested to his knee. "Y'am niet against the thought of it, nie." The Reverend answered simply as he drew a breath into his nose. Exhaling sharp. "Ea think ea must've done something in one of them. . . Something bad." The boy, continued with a quiver to his tongue. One that the pastor detected- and noted. "Be-because. . ." His voice broke, and he heaved out a sob in that pale candlelight. The church smelled of incense- and Vladrik always came home smelling of extinguished candles from passed sermons. He just couldn't find himself to leave the acoustic room, where he would hear everything. "Mamej couldn'tve done this- not Papej. . . Eit had to've been me." He squeaked, and bowed his head so that his soft chin met with finer fabrics of velvet and satin. Something his father undoubtedly dressed him in. "N-now Vladrik. . . I don't think that's necessarily- True. Godan has a reason for everything." The boy shuffled in a breath at this, one that ran deep into his lungs and outward with a swoop- the Reverend was left confused as Vladrik left the confessional- The boy sat to temperate stones upon the streets just outside of the church- his glasses discarded and dangling within his grasp as he sobbed. He looked to the clear, sky-radiant daylight. And those unworking globes blinked. . . They didn't sting. Yet he wished, and would have shed blood to ever have felt that pain. It only made him more upset- he shuffled to his pockets for a set of red, threaded prayer beads. And so he began his chant. ☽༓☾ ☽༓☾ He continued such prayer, for what was minutes to others meant an hour of him contemplating back and forth with the simple thoughts in his mind. The grip on his prayer beads tightened- and he sobbed gently to his elbow. Gentle sobs that turned to wailing cries- willing. . . Begging. "P-please! What've ea done? To forsake vy?" His confusion and frustration directed itself to the skies- where there might lie a creator above them, in whatever form it might be. Yet he found it comforting to picture it as his father. His all-loving father. Tears, thick, glossy tears rolled heavily down his cheeks. "Ea just want to be good! Ea just v'ant to make him proud- Please. . . Ea'll do anything. . ." He talked to the air amongst him that housed no man, yet a listener; it might have. . .

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ The small boy babbled in the arms of his sister, unsure of the happenings. Much more unsure than Nikolai, or Esmée Even had any clue of. The boy's scenes were a wash of color that he couldn't understand, miniscule splotches of browns, tans, and blues that made up his father. Ones he reached out to just to be sure. Even he, as a little one felt such disturbance and a whine came from his lips. "Pa-p-. . ." That was all the boy could muster. Before he was carried off, and his father went on vacation in Death's Chariot.

Discord: callypso#0420 skin I’m bidding on: I and My Annabel Lee @annanicole__ Bid: $17 USD pls these are so good

Absolutely none of my business but I dont like it being compatible with Mystic, as well as Naz. 🤷‍♀️ just me, no? Ah anyway.. Besides that, this isn't absolutely awful. (Its pretty good actually im just mean) Good job worm man!

In stone and goo we trust Family <3

Krokah decided to her own accord, the stupid bird couldn't decide much for herself; but thought this once. She swept off the dirt from her featherless body and equipped her jangly hat. Taking flight, she thwapped her wings against the foggy air for that Frogman in his honor. A subtle cerulean bubbled within her throat as her anger for the world grew. An Eidolan of endless loyalty to the radiant Sun of Black, puffed a plume of deadly breath from its stone nostrils at the thought of a crusade of the Blackened Sons. As a daughter to the Barrow of the Fog, if the hulking beast could have grinned, somewhere it did. Readying its sword of alienistic power to reap, it churned the blade unto the waters below. Each rune took ablaze with the vigour of the black radiance. It readied the windswept glaive for the demise of a thousand Druidic souls to its innards.

Krokah, the Zevn of greatest obedience; had a more competent person read to it - a missive so vile. Telling news of a kin of its own, a creature just as itself.. It began to stomp around in some violent brigade for the death of the Wonk King to people as horrid as Nevaehlen. There it spake, "KILL! KILL! ELMER AVENGE! ELMER AVENGE! DIE CIRCLE! DIE DIE!" So she carried on to the grotto of liars and fiends with crumpled talons and porky breaths of anger.

Eternally sound, the Heir Apparent was.. Loomed she, stepping from her icy throne.. Setting her cares aside, her cerulean globes of frigid prowess scanned over the missive; telling news of one with a False Crown.. Gaze igniting with vigor, she allowed her frost to envelop the paper; one foretelling of a mere witchling laying claim to the power of the Four Elder Hags. It folded in on itself.. Shattering to a fluttering of snow shards - The Mother of Frost now sought to chisel out a plan in iceforged rage.. To see to the end of this egotistical banter in the name of their Blessed Brunhylde.. Gritting her sharpened teeth all the while. "Such a threat by the means of a missive?.." The mother's lip curled up in disgust. "How asinine.. Who dares to ignite this war?" A looming realization struck her features, cleaving aside her rage.. Her countenance parted into a sickly, multi-rowed grin.. Now, she sought out her Lobalm and close acquaintances for their opinion on the matter. [COPYRIGHT: @Werew0lf]

The Other Matriarch of that crying sect of broken women stood prideful at the cusp of their blood-filled grounds. Under the infernal countenance of unbeknownst vigor, a grin split an entire cavern across her face as the Fennites scurried around in their faux-citadel for some solution to the conflict they instigated. "Doo-mah Yatl." The woman spate her horrible tongue on the grounds they found so holy.

The loyal mutt of yearning, festering loathe sat upon its jaden throne. It’s weary, skeletal sockets bobbed up with a twitch of scorn. It instinctively followed the rabid will of its Lady, the darkest few rumbled with..- Anticipation. Hungry were the few whom flooded the Remnants of what once was a city among the skies; now sodden with malice and blood below. “Radiant is the black sun-..” The awakened flame of torture flumes within the light of such oxymoronic stars. Chuckles and chortles of promise crawled up the walls of the geist’s sticky, and humid cage. It gnawed at the bars, breaking free. The feral beast of dribbling darkness split its face into a grin; which spread like a ravine across a sunlit battleground of flayed bodies. The battle cry of hounding barks and howls radiated from the Far East as the servant bound for the winter land blight.

Vitomira watched from her stone citadel whom remained forever on the coasts of the green mountains. She cracked a smile which quickly gained the gap of a grin that carved like tectonic plates through the earthen soil of her facade. The light in her crystalline eyes soon.. shimmered out as the lightstones of the mausoleum of Xan dwindled to a flicker- then to silence. The snake ate.

The screams would bellow and betroth to the far Northwest frozen wastes of vast agony as the three witch mothers were invited to their icy thrones. Their crowns, crystalline and polished to the design of Brunhylde. The hags chased against any mortal men who dared to get within a distance they could smell up in the blizzard. A horrid fear would follow them. Lynera set out with her horrible mace of salts, one wrought of a chunk Circe had blessed only her with. A weapon that could damn all men. She birthed three daughters; Kerry-Anne, Kindrel, and Morgana. Sending them out with a grin to perform the worst. And mankind could do nothing to stop her.

yea i was here

The equally faithful Jackal widened its soulless eyes in horror as its memories of Hound began to fade from the forefront of its already wracked mind. A scream of pain and sorrow emitted from its lair, deep in the hellish underbelly of the Tsutenkaku estate. "Sleep well in the soulstream, balmark.. For perhaps I will join you there soon.." The phantom collapsed its phantasmal body to the ground in a fit of sobs. Its haunt seemed to carry a bit more sorrow on that shallow night..

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Within the confines of her Eastern home, a certain S’indri chuckles down at the parchment, her ashen wife and son within each arm. They each peer over her shoulder at the letter. After those lime eyes scan the challenging words, she lets out a hearty chuckle. “Silvered Thugs? More like stuck-up vigilantes. Running from their problems with their tails between their legs.” She looks now to Arani. Whilst her gaze lingers, it turns to a crimson as she lights the parchment ablaze. Letting the ashes dissolve within the air. “This new age of thill are an utter disgrace. Their honor, gone. They will always think less of you. Shall one challenge you, I will equip you with the tools to rise above. They’ll be shining your boots by the end of it.”