Sera Nita

Upon hearing the commotion between the halfling and their friend, Serelia frowns from behind the bar of Veris's only tavern. "Come here to get away from the crusading, some spooks flood in, Ascended come for them, and then suddenly everyone's a bloody monster. The last three 'protectors' I've thrown out were either breaking the law or harassing customers based on their race. Fat lot of justice there." She glances over at a nearby map as she wonders silently how quickly she will be driven from yet another home by wars that have naught to do with her family.

Upon finding the bounty notice upon the wall of her tavern in Veris, Serelia scowls and rips it down, tossing the parchment to the nearby hearth. "World's gone mad, killing men for seeking someone out and posting idiotic bounties on a privately owned building."

MC Name: SeraNita RP Name: Serelia Race: Undisclosed Discord (For communication(Not necessary, though prefered): Already available on Veris Discord Current Occupation (or preference to be placed in the future): Tavern Management Timezone (EST, GMT, etc.): CST Address (if currently residing in Veris): 19 Verisian Circle (tavern) Do you wish to be contacted with job opportunities and open positions?: No

Serelia wonders at how the tavern will continue donating for these events, as they seem to come up at such a fast pace. She also worries briefly that her two children will go 'adventuring' in the sea of people...

Application: [OOC] Username: SeraNita Activity Rating (1-10): 7 Skype: You already have it [RP] Name: Serelia Main Profession (Include levels): Alchemist (Proficient) Secondary Profession: Tinker Bonus Profession (If applicable): Breeder Place of Residence: Citadel/Aleksandria

Application: Full Name: Serelia Tirieal I Race/Sub-race/Culture: Mali'Fenn Eye Color: Light Blue Hair Color: Light Blonde Height: 5'6" Weight: Roughly 90 lbs

Read your posts.

"I didn't think that you felt like that about me..." The woman is surprised and a bit embarrassed at his confession. "I've liked you for years. I was just afraid to say anything." "I...I like you too. I always have." She shifts her gaze to the ground, bright red. He leans in closer, and-- She wakes up suddenly to a burning pain in her chest, automatically turning to her side to spew a black liquid that looked a bit like the grounds of coffee. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, the woman rises to clean up the mess. She couldn't let the carpet stain or someone would notice. That was, of course, assuming they wouldn't take notice of the daily ritual she had of vomiting after just an hour of sleep or less. Their concern would not phase her anyways. So long as her dream does not have to come true, then her fate did not bother her. So long as he did not know, her death would not bother her at all.

Why must your profile picture remind me of Garrett Hawke? You're going to force me into a DA2 binge and then no LOTC will be played.

It occurs to Realynn, after several moments, that she doesn't even own dress clothes. It appears some shopping must be done prior to the event.

In her house far from the wreckage, Realynn lights a candle for each of the people she knew that would have been in the blast range, and places them in the various windows.

I feel like my first reaction to a Korje would be to snuggle it. So fluffy. <3

Standing at the edge of an abandoned coastline on Tahn, a stranger thinks back to the beginning of the tradition of this sea. A tradition held by nameless peasants seeking to find solace in a cold world. One that had passed from one generation onto the next… “Ah!” A young child and a father come to the sea to teach an old story. The child, who has never touched the sea, is startled. “Daddy, it’s freezing! Why do you wanna stand in cold water?” The father chuckles, ruffling his child’s wild hair with a warm smile, “Because, little one, there is a power to these waters that gives me the strength to see another year, from the warmth of love. Listen close.” And so the child remembers, with a smile of their own, the warmth of a parent’s love, that granted that same strength. A warmth long from this world, but still granting the strength to renew another year, continuing a childhood ritual in the midst of an adult’s war. “It has been passed down through our village for decades, the secret of this place. It is said that if you write upon a piece of parchment the words you wish to say, seal it inside tightly with a glass bottle, and release it into the sea, your feelings will one day reach their destination, no matter where that may be.” The child stares up at the father in awe, enraptured. To be able to tell someone what must be said, no matter where they are, sounded like an incredible feat. “Daddy, who do you write to? Is it God? Or a friend who lives far away? What do you write about” The father smiles at the barrage of questions, crouching to his kin’s level to take their small hands in his own. “I write to your mother, and to your sister, and my parents, and yes, God too. I tell them all the things I think and how much I wish they could be with us. I tell them the prayers I hold in my heart and I tell them how much I love them.” The child beams as an idea occurs, “I wanna write too! I wanna write to Mum and Sis and God too, and tell them all the things I can’t say to them in person. I wanna make sure that Mum and Sis know that I love them lots, and that I wanna meet them again one day, and I wanna ask God if maybe He can put us together in the Skies so Sis and me can play and you and Mum can be happy again.” A child no longer, the stranger can’t help but chuckle to the empty shore. Such an earnest heart that children carry, such a purity to them. Back then, it wasn’t hard at all to believe that a body of water could carry a letter to the dead. Even now, as an adult, part of that child remained, believing in the magic of the sea, and that part had let the adult along to this place. Stepping further into the water, the father lifts a sealed bottle with the letters he wishes to send to his departed loved ones. He tosses the bottle out into the water as far as he can, clasps his hands together, and whispers a prayer to see his message sent safely to their side. The child wanders in after him, watching the bottle disappear with a quiet prayer of their own, mimicking the parent’s actions. The child who had grown up, stepping into the seawater carefully, draws out two glass bottles from their cloak. One for the living, and one for the dead. Wandering into the water up to knee height, the stranger lowers one of the bottles carefully into the water. The tide catches the bottle and draws it out to the sea. A prayer is whispered to see its contents to the person left living, the words that could never be delivered face to face. A precious friend whom had never known that they meant anything more. The sea would bring forth the courage that the stranger did not possess. “Daddy, did you ever find out if your message made it through?” “I know that it has, at least once, for that is how I told your mother of my love for her. I was too afraid to speak to her and make a fool of myself, and so I let the sea say it for me. And a few days later, she came to me with the bottle I had given to the sea, and that is how we began our courtship.” “That sounds really sweet. I wonder if someone would do that for me one day.” “Perhaps they will. Or perhaps you will be the one who sends that letter. But I do believe that there is always someone in this world meant for another, and that you will find that person one day. Until that day, promise that you will never settle for anything less.” The second bottle is lowered, this one to the departed. To a mother, a sister, and a father. To a being that the adult wonders to be real, but the child still believes in. Another prayer is whispered, hands clasped, as the second bottle vanishes over the horizon. Raising their head, the stranger murmurs the words that dyed the parchment inside, in hopes of them being heard by the Skies. With a final glance out to the horizon line, the figure leaves for the place that has become a new home for them.

Realynn reads over the news with interest, nodding to no one in particular as she scans the headlines. Afterwards, she returns to the section on market deals to browse the best prices. "Only 2 mina for an ingot of iron? I'll have to keep that in mind for my next order. Iron is hard to find when you can't mine ore worth a damn."