luv

Amorette Blondelle smiled softly at her gaze fell down upon the missive. Looking out the window of the estate she’d see Keledan looking out at the pond from the back porch. Tugging some hair behind her ear she would rise quickly to her feet and scurry off to find her best dress yet!

The Far’anthir Prelude The Far’anthir Along the eastern coast of the Isle of Avir rests the Far’anthir, a mountain range strength from the furthest southern point to the most northern point of the coast. These mountains are known to be extremely treacherous to traverse for the novice hiker and the wildlife can pose a threat to anyone foolish enough to venture too far from the trails. The Far’anthir is mostly guarded and inhabited by the Izketoth and Wevtoli tribes. Both skilled and fierce warriors, they can often be very protective of their lands, and do not take kindly to those who show up without proper notice. Speaking in mostly Far-Tongue, these people are often hard to communicate with, luckily House Acal’elor has spent many years alongside scholars from House Thylsealaes, learning their language to maintain positive relations. OOC: Definitely wanted to expand upon the Isle of Avir lore I did with @MunaZaldrizoti, but wanted to see how this was perceived. Stay tuned maybe?

Wrote another story telling post, update to Frozen & Fading 🤍 google doc link for better formatting found in the spoiler ~ La, la, lala, la la. La, la, lada lada. The soft wind blew through the trees putting together a sort of sympathy that made it difficult to really hear anything else. A pale hand pressed against the bark of one of the adformention trees, wrapped in a black and torn lace sleeve. The matted and curled mess of black locks were tossed over the savage looking woman’s shoulder as she’d press an ear against the wood and narrowed her sickly green gaze. La, la, lala, la la. Her eyes danced around the woods before her as her right brow slightly arched in confusion as she’d peel her face from the tree and try her best to look for the source of the singing. It wasn’t the leaves, she never knew greenery to act like sirens. Lifting either end of her torn black gown, she’d carefully step deeper into the woods - her bare feet barely carrying enough weight to stand the fallen twigs on the forest floor. The singing grew louder in her head as she’d advance. La, la, lada lada. Her free hand held a gnarly looking wand which she’d raise defensively out before her as her wild eyes went wide and sweeped every possible cranny of the woods around her. A small pond came into view, and she was certain she'd find the vocalist somewhere near. It had been quite some time since she’d seen anyone, frankly. Not even her beloved cat. The woman peered from behind the base of a tree upon the small girl kicking her feet about at the water’s edge. She couldn’t be much older than ten, Scáthach thought to herself. The girl would turn her head towards the setting sun, looking completely away from her now. The witch’s eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in disbelief at the sight of an arrow wound garnished with bloodied blonde hair revealed itself. She’d definitely gone off the rails, poor Scáthach, but she was trying her best to keep it together. What else would you expect of someone who only ever sees the ghosts?

Reserved

Amorette beams as the notice makes it way to her! Overjoyed, she’d begin to work on her outfit she’d be wearing on such occasion!

The future is dark and full of terrors: A loud squeak echoed through the empty halls as the large wooden door slowly opened from the gentle touch of the silver haired maiden who stood before them. With soft steps she’d make her way inside the dilapidated ruins of what was once her home on the Isle of Avir. Her wide eyes scanned the dark room lit only by the full moon which would shine through the missing parts of the ceiling. Outstretching her arm would cause a soft wave of heat to erupt before conjuring a small fireball which illuminated the room - the shadows rushed to find somewhere to hide, all around her. Raising her head towards the sky she’d soon realize the soft snowfall. With a slow exhale her breath would become visible leaving her lips. Amorette moved more so into the room before turning her gave to a throne of sorts that sat on the other end of the room. A man dressed in black nearly head to toe, aside from his similarly silver hair, would be seated hunched over to his side upon the seat. Narrowing her gaze upon the figure she’d take a slow advance forward, trying her best to ignore the shadowy figures moving around in the corners of her vision, she knew they weren’t real. Making her way to the steps leading up she would gasp at the realization of who was seated before her; the rotting and festering corpse of her late brother, Lucian. A strong and cold wind blew out the flame in her hand as she’d raise her hands to make an attempt at shielding her face. The body slightly twitched before jolting upright, the sound of crunching bones echoed loudly in her ears as her brother raised a single finger to point at her. “Is it terrifying?” called out the voice of her brother which seemed to reverb and echo with distortions and crackling fire. “I fear no evil.” Amorette responded with a stern yell as the snow in the wind began to cling upon her form, spreading across the surface of her skin leaving behind a greyish pigment. A bright blue glow would emit from her form before she’d turn away and slam her eyes shut. The sound of crunching bones echoed through her ears and as fear roared through her vein she’d make an attempt to run back from the steps, but slipped into the snow. Upon landing she’d find that it wasn’t cold at all anymore. Everything was quiet. Slowly opening her eyes would reveal the same place, but now covered over in a thin layer of ice. Her grey hands slowly lifted her up to better look around her surroundings. Footsteps in crunching snow were all she heard before a female dressed in a beautiful black and red gown stepped out from the shadows, her silver blonde hair shining in the moonlight. She’d shake her head disappointingly upon Amorette, and she sure did look just like her too. “We aren’t safe, sister. Hide behind those walls of Silver or by the side of a fearsome dragon… Nothing will save you.” Would briskly shake her head as she’d slam her eyes shut once more. Making an attempt to rise to her feet she’d gasp as a sharp pain met with her throat. Her eyes shot open to meet the eyes of another familiar boy, Alwin stood before her with tears in his eyes. Her hands rose to her neck as she’d fall into his arms, all she could hear were his faint sobs - as if there was some sort of wall between them. He continued to sob over her form as she’d make any attempt she could to move, but all failed. The agony of the wound on her throat felt like fire as the taste of blood drowned her. Soon his form shuttered as his pupils expanded outwards, the surface of his eyes now pitch black. “If only I had taken control, I could have saved her. I could have saved us all.” Whispered Alwin, but the voice was not his to speak. The same demonic distortions in Lucian’s voice altered this one. “H-Haelun?” Amorette managed to pathetically cry up at him. A state of panic rushed through her, but she was unable to escape Alwin’s embrace. “Your mother was such a pathetic host… Her desperation for Sinhat’s approval was not only beneficial, but quite hysterical. She should have known by then a girl like her wasn’t meant to be loved. It just wasn’t going to fly with me.” The familiar voice cackled from its husk, her brother then dropped her as he’d rise to his feet. His black eyes menacingly looked down upon her. Still frozen in place she’d look back up to him as he’d turn to walk out of her field of view. The sounds of crumbling stone and crackling fire roared around her. Her form barely followed her guidance as she’d try her best to get up, only falling onto her back once more. Bright lights came from all directions as the smoke billowed into the air. Her heart beating hard in her chest nearly drowned out the sound of fire engulfing the building she lay in, but one last familiar voice faintly called out to her. She couldn’t quite make it out the first time, but it called again this time much louder. “Amorette, ******* run! I’ll be right behind you!” Were the last words she’d heard from her Aunt Illidar as she stayed back to fight off the men who’d had been hunting them. She did as she was told, ran as fast as she could, and waited at the river. Illidar never came back. With a violent gasp, Amorette would shoot upright in her bed. Beads of sweat soaked her face and her heavy breathing took a moment to dismiss as her gaze peered about the room, her new home in Tor Eldar. It was just a bad dream, she’d thought… but, she could’ve sworn it was still light out when she’d arrived at his estate.

first!!! teeehee, it’s good to be back. i’ll give my thoughts laterrrrrr

”Interesting...” The young elfess shrugged after transferring the necessary information into her journal and skipping off!

somewhere far away a witch smiles at this bittersweet moment. +1

A brown haired woman wrote frivolously in her journal as a small black cat made its way towards her side, curling up against her. The setting sun’s rays upon the dead trees cast very twisted and peculiar shadows along the wasteland in which they were. The woman raised her head and looked out before her. The armored remains of a soldier were only meters from her, littered with arrows and bloodstains. There were quite a few bodies the woman soon realized as her gaze scanned over the view before her. She’d shake her head softly before lowering her gaze back into the book and continuing her, assumed, notes. Another woman, dark haired, with pale features could be seen making her way towards the scribe. She finished shoving her own notebook into a backpack as she reached her companion, slinging it over her shoulder and leaning down to read whatever was being written. “Are you even sure that any of this stuff is going to make a difference?” Asked the crouching woman as her right brow slowly arched. Her eyes shifted towards the nearest corpse. “Better safe than sorry.” Replied the woman before closing her notebook and reaching for the feline beside her. As she rose to her feet she’d offer her partner a smile and began walking off. The other woman simply shrugged before following along.

Always looked up to you and thought you were a really nice dude. You're one of the few people who gave me a chance. I wish nothing but success and the best for you. I also wish for a signed copy of that New York times best seller ? xo

The old man was in fact looking for sin where sin had not taken place. He's also suffering from some sort of illness as he most certainly wasn't present for the event written about, odd.

The witch would outstretch both of her arms over the open tome, the pages stained with eldritch text. Her hands stretched aggressively as suddenly neon blue crystals rose from the scarlet letters, the geodes began to shift and flicker like a flame. The cavern would suddenly grow more quiet, or perhaps she stopped listening. The flames began to engulf the book and soon a very dark black smoke drifted from the fire, faintly. The witch's shoulders moved in forward as she almost fell into the book, but circled back up right. Her eyes felt heavy as the smoke began to violently plume from the book. Her eyes shut from the overbearing smoke until a voice suddenly caught her attention. "Failing lights amass one hundred sleepless nights-" Her eyes sprung open to reveal herself completely surrounded by the smoke, but she was in the cave no longer. The sounds of a weeping baby come from behind her as she'd turn to see a rather luxurious looking crib only meters away. She'd take a step forward before suddenly stuttering as her eyes went wide. She recalled that last time she'd done this with Vivec, how these are not dreams, but they are nightmares. The baby's voice suddenly shot up in pitch as it screamed, it's tears booming from all around her. Her blue eyes would cast a faint light along the white blank inside. She'd take a few slow steps forward and pressed her grey hand along the side, her thumb brushing against the white fur blanket. However, her gaze could not seem to make its way inside. The sorceress' lips would part before she'd release a shaky breath. A black haired woman with a dark black fur draping over her shoulders would stand behind Eileen with a soft gasp. Her right limb rose to rake her well pampered digits through the sleeked back white locks on the witch's head. "You cannot look at your own daughter, Estelle? She screams for you." The woman spoke through a haunting duet of a Norse accent and six feet of water.

Avarosa would make sure to put on her gloves before making her way to Haelun'or.

"You might find me strange for my envy of the butterfly. They are born like us, unequipt for the world, but should they manage to make it long enough they are given wings. They live long enough to see themselves grow into something beautiful." The dark cavern would echo a symphony of dripping water. Nature granted the moon a small opening to shine through, which illuminated the cave to reveal a pool of water which mirrored the astralbody. A shrouded figure would stand along the water's edge and look up at the moon, a soft rhythmic hum would escape it. The feminine pitch seemed to ripple over the surface of the pond as the hooded woman raised a foot and stepped onto the newly formed ice before her. She moved with slow steps and the haunting chant forged a path of solid ice with each step. A pair of grayish hands would reach for the hood of her black cloak and pull it down to reveal sleeker back, snow white, hair. "There's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody; it won't leave my head. There is no other that could compare, and that's why I'm forced to sing you on repeat." The walls of the cave were then coated in a bright blue light which had been sourced from the eyes of the woman. With each step she took the ice would become more and more solid beneath her. As she reached the opening her attention would be captured by rising smoke coming from the woods. The wind carried over the sounds of giggling children in the same direction, the deeper tone of a man's laughter would overpower them for a brief moment. She'd make her way to the water's edge and step onto the rocky riverbed. Through the foliage she could make out a man and two young boys at a campfire, a horse drawn wagon just behind them. She'd narrow her eyes on the trio whilst bringing her left palm against her stomach with a shutter. Visions of splattered blood against marble would cloud her mind. A chorus of masculine cries would surround her from all sides as her right hand rose to temple and her digits wrapped around her hair tightly. An abandoned library would be illuminated by the light by the same moon. It's radiance revealed many scattered books, bones, and a smashed bottle of rum. The sound of nails against a chalkboard would shake her vision as she'd find herself against the trunk of a tree only a few yards away from those at the fire. The man rose to his feet and looked in her direction, but not fast enough as she'd taken cover behind the tree. He made a gesture for the boys to go inside the wagon and they didn't object. "Is there a hymn to bring me peace? Why were my wings replaced with fangs?" Her eyes shot back open to reveal her nails digging through the intestines of the man who'd been sitting by the fire only seconds ago. Her hands forced the flesh and gore into her open maw and she stood no chance to her hunger. A piece of flesh fell from her lips as she'd look over her shoulder. One of the boys stood frozen in fear only meters from her. The other boy called out to him and began to exit the wagon. "Not even a chance to grow their wings. Butterflies wouldn't make good food for witches."