acronius_

Claudia Lorena Temesch has always been lively, seeming hellbent on either causing trouble, or giving her parents a headache. By that same thirst for adventure, and her great friends among the Haeseni, she's led here. To the young Claudia, the path to Haense would seem nothing new, the same gravel making the path that she had tread upon many an occasion. Oh, sweet ignorance. A sight for young eyes, for the unlearned. And, as the towers of Valdev loomed in the distance, over the treetops, a gust of wind would rise upon the girl, her bright yellow dress billowing in the swiftly-moving air. The winds of this land, of the ocean, and the skies high above, all share the same mystery, as if telling of the future’s tragedies. And, shielding her eyes from the swirling winds, her gaze would be forced to the trees at her left, the branches whipping at the air, as if to tell the wind off. The sounds drew her attention, and as the wind died down, a new sensation would take precedence. The trees, with their wispy limbs, and the spaces between being unmarked, would speak to her very soul. Claudia stands, now, before the trees, towering high above her head, that now churns with both impulse, and unease. She’s never been in there before, after all. A fiber of her mind, the one which held her Id in check, that which was already weak, would snap. “I might as well. Maybe I can find a good tree to climb,” She says, unheard by any but the spirits which surely roam the tranquil forest, and her own ears, unknowing, and foolish. “I’ll still be able to meet Esfir for dinner.” By her pen, a letter was sent ahead, from Vallagne, to the doorstep of the Amadors, and upon it, a label, flapping in the wind, for the little one. “To Esfir, I hope the notice isn’t too soon, but I’d like to come ‘round again. Perhaps you can introduce me to your siblings! Expect me in a day or two. I’ve got nowhere else to be.” And, to her best friend, Verena von Kanunsberg, a similar invitation, for a visit. “I'm going to be in Valdev in the near future, with the rest of my friends. I'd come and find you on my own if I knew where you lived, but hopefully, you can tag along! I'll be here waiting for you.” Claudia isn’t, nor will ever, be known for her honesty. The letters would be sent without an envoy, the promises unfulfilled, and a bedroom in the Temesch House would remain empty, without so much as a single word from the young Claudia. My stupid phone wouldn't let me choose Times New Roman >:(

Claudia Lorena Temesch thinks her sister should liven up a bit. She's already acting like a grandma at eleven.

A man had apparently missed the memo that the vote was over. ((MC NAME: acronius_)) Name: Lorandil Sindarin Vote One: Theveus Sythaerin Vote Two: Theveus Sythaerin

Claudia smells favoritism.

Claudia Lorena Temesch et Martiel overhears discussion of a celebration of some kind from her awfully cozy room, just at the top of the stairs. A smile spreads across her face as her parents discuss dragging the children along, despite how annoyed they sounded.

Holvius, once called upon as Holmgeir Farrar, peers down upon the world from his final resting place. From his sadness, his grief, and perhaps, even a bit of happiness, a tear falls. It isn't much to look at, but it's a reminder of the mercy he was shown, and the years upon years, lost to time, lost to his demonic ways. The friends he had left behind, the family he was determined to find one day, and even the hecklers at the tavern who wished him trip and fall upon the spilled carrion, all of it lost, because of his curiosity. His singular tear, a manifestation of the suffering his once mortal mind held, falls and falls, for miles and miles, until the ground would be near in sight. His singular tear would fall upon the bare cheek of a small child, scarecely more than eight. She would peer up at the sky, cursing the rain, and Holmgeir is forgotten.

Claudia Lorena Temesch reads over the edict stolen from her father's pocket, cocking an eyebrow. "Who are these people?"