rukio

This post is very 2012!!! I wish to sign up for this house and do much forum roleplay with them in the future!!! Edit: Nevermind that application is really long. Way too 2012

Life and time had not been kind to Adelith. Yet she had endured most everything that had been thrown her way. Woe to those who had been in her life, however. Some might joke that she was cursed, that some deity, bored with their own realm, had singled her out to torment for a laugh or two. Others would say she was the affliction, a curse to those who knew her, to those who had loved her or been loved by her. Seven skies know that those she loved never did meet a good fate. Endure she did. Until the death of her brother. The death of the love of her life, the man she had viewed as a soulmate, had crippled her in her youth. It had shattered her self image and will to live. The branch she had tried so desperately to hang herself from had broken and so she accepted her fate and endured. “Good” had been her response when told that paladins don’t often live to see old age, how eager she had been to rejoin Samuel in the afterlife. Those who knew her best would know she was never the same after his passing, even with the return of his ghost. First love is the strongest because it is new to the sufferer, pure in nature and hardest to forget because the heart values and pines for it so strongly. Adelith was no exception, and so with his death a piece of her passed on as well. The death of someone she had grown to view as a father figure in her childhood had come as no surprise. The Scyfling war had taken Samuel, and so it was to be expected, with the bitterness to her heart, that Jack would die to it as well. Everyone, she had thought, that she cares about dies after all. The pain of his death came not from the death itself, he had lived a full life. It came from the sheer helplessness, the uselessness she had experienced as he bled out from a javelin. She had knelt mere inches from him, her own arms useless and drenched in blood from the javelin through her right and the arrow wounds to her left. Live, mister Jack, please... she had pleaded internally but her silent begging fell upon the deaf ears of death. The intention she had when she had joined the war effort was to join Sam in death, she was too scared to attempt to take her own life again after all. Instead, the outcome had been physical scars, grotesque and deformed from the method used to mend them and mental wounds she would never heal from, plaguing her mind with an affliction of unspoken grief and horror. Both deaths had many things in common, including that she had been able to endure and move on despite the sheer agony her heart felt at every moment’s notice. The near death of Vya, done at the hand of a Gehennite, and the first murder Adelith had committed only proved to change her further. At least someone else I loved didn’t die this time. Never again. Never. She lost herself in the piano, in her chores, and later in her dedication to Xan. Lefkos’ disconnection ensured that she would never feel truly connected to the other paladins, that she had lost the only solace and true friend she had found among them, for, to her, there was no way the others could understand her past or those she had cared about. Yet she continued to follow the Sunlit path, becoming indoctrinated further into their ways of life. This would lead to the grief that she would never shake. I may be a monster but I won’t be the one to cut their own sibling down. Those words, the last words David had said to her before his suicide, still haunted her. The intent had been pure, the actions and route she had taken had not however, and all actions have their consequences. With his death, so too had their mother killed herself, and with their deaths, so too did their father follow them to the grave within two years' time. The birth parents she abhorred, their deaths, didn’t sting. The loss of her older brother, who she had always adored, who had been the only member of their family to seek her out, however… that death had simply been too much for her to bear. With his passing, so too did she lose the adoptive family she was raised by. Vya, who had adopted Addie when she was but a mere eight years old, found it too difficult to love the forever difficult to love child, needing her space and distance in a time when Adelith needed comfort the most, distanced herself from the girl for perhaps too long. Their reunion and acceptance of each other later on never did feel as genuine as it had before, to Adelith at least. Whatever deity had found their pleasure in torturing her was not done yet, however. It never was. Sam had disappeared soon after Lefkos’ disconnection, the reason had never made itself known to Adelith but it left her devastated all the same. With time, as with most things, she did her best to move on. She had a child with Cassius, the birth of which nearly killed her, yet both she and baby had survived by some miracle. Or curse. She never did fully recover from it, perhaps some internal damage had marred the young woman, not that there would be a way to confirm. Infection was her downfall. The arrival of her father to meet his grandchild, good intentioned by Hillith, had led to Adelith fleeing with said baby in tow. No, she had thought, I won’t let you bring that dragonkin sympathizing monster around my child. The travel left her ragged and with a horrific infection. And so here comes the lull to the Yung Merc’s tale. Death was not yet kind enough to let her into its rest, to allow her to join Xan in his realm. Vyranni would be her home for now, perhaps some day she would recover, return to Arcas with her son. For now, however, the skeletal frame, nearly unrecognizable as the once strong Adelith, ventured off to join her great great great uncle Gaius and his side of the family in the same land her mother had been sent away from some 40 or so years ago, to recover from wounds unseen and things unspoken of. Several letters would be left in places known only to those who they were left for. Most were written shakily, short in nature on account of her unhealthy state upon their writing. ((Aka this information cannot be treated like in-character knowledge just because you read it on my post, unless your character’s name is on it, or the person shares it with your character. Not that any of them are sensitive in nature, really.)) Vya: Anduin: Mael’ead: Cassius: Lucia: David: Storm: Sam: -x- ((Not my art, obviously. It’s from pinterest.)) -x- -x- There once was a time when I was a girl That darkness hunged in my sky I was old before I learned to be young Stone cold till I learn how to cry And the weeds in the ground have grew up through my skin It's taking a lonesome girl's heart I will go where the stolen roses grow To forget that I have fell apart The thorns on the roses cut through my skin The vultures flew down and then pecked What lay on the surface was a tiny crack And below was a gigantic wreck So I held my head down and I dealt with the blows In hope that I'd soon be free to go where the stolen roses grow To forget all the bad memories -x- Obviously its not a pk post: I just don’t feel like appealing. At least, not for now, anyways. Her story warranted a departure.

That’s the spirit lad

Study. Research. Grief. These three things had spurred Alice Laurir’ante into her most recent bout of reclusive behavior. Hae'leh kalem'Valah yallre could no longer be used as an excuse, the elfess herself now easily over one hundred years of age. How time flies. She would muse to herself as she filled the teapot, once her mother’s, oh how she had loathed her mother, with warmed water from the fireplace she oft tended to with fervor. A dull ache, spontaneous in nature, stemmed from the bandage that covered her left eye, or rather, the sunken hole left from where her mother had carved the impure feature from her face at an early age. Oh, how she still loathed her mother. The intrusive thoughts were swiftly interrupted by the sudden cold. The fire. She thought to herself with some semblance of horror to her normally stoic features. Stumbling from her self-isolation, Alice would arrive at Haelun’or once more. A stinging burn to her throat, a sense of shame for her parent’s actions so long ago. What did my parents look like again? She waved the thought away as one might a fly, they were gone, most likely dead, and she was the last of their line. Her sister had vanished with them, after all, their oh so beloved child. But, she reminded herself, I restored some honor to our name. She didn’t. I’m welcome within the Silver City once more. They aren’t. A small smile graced the Mali’Aheral’s features for a brief moment before a stoic frown formed once more. She shivered, chided herself for letting her weight fall so low as her teeth chattered. A piece of paper, written in essay format, found its way to her feet. Fate, she mused to herself as she collected several similar papers from the roads within the city. This will help restart my fire! She’d almost laugh to herself. Almost, that is, for she would soon read the contents of the letter. Her stoic frown slipped, albeit slowly, into a deeper grimace. ”Isn’t this the same ‘ata who declared his hate for high elves and all things pure a while back? He race mixed and now he complains when his impurity gets him removed from the house which he has no right to claim?” She’d ask this of a nearby High Elf, generic in frame and appearance. They would soon be forgotten to the elfess, as most were, but for the moment she lingered, waiting for their response. It never came, she had spoken too softly. Brow pinched between index and thumb, Alice let out a small sigh. She would linger here for several moments in hope someone else would, perhaps, have heard her soft inquiry, and give a response.

Alyssa wonders if her former “pet” Kha would be joining her in the All-Father’s halls. She awaits him eagerly, hoping for some semblance of the life she had once known, given that her family had all fallen from the Father’s grace and would not roam his halls at her side.

Needs more space elf.

I miss the days of Tla Geo and Benbo. May the kha return to whence they came.

Oh no. God forbid my precious minecraft character gets PK’d. Too many people trolled the eventline/wanted to spy for the inferi/make the inferi stronger to bring the end of the map without realizing it isn’t the map end event. You get what you deserve.

“Aye. GOD knows he was an evil man, between his lust for elves, complicity in Pontian’s death, and everything else inbetween.” Brynja would say simply.