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fawleyfate:
Going to answer her first question she straightens at the wave of the other’s hand. Instead her own fingers rest against her forehead under Sybill’s gaze, feeling for an imperfection. Merlin’s beard how’d she run into another one of those Seers while avoiding the one with the crown. “ How the feck would ye know if i were cursed?” It’s more of a bewilderment than a true question. “ Uh, Imogen and uh the bloke bet a full round of butterbeer on it, lost and then went up to ninety.” She doesn’t even budge as the men continue their fight, the dealer not admiting to cheating still. “ It’s been grand watchin’ him go so hard … can you tell if he cheated, ya know wich ye curse vision?”
“well, you’d feel cursed, wouldn’t you ?” sybill hums, staring off into the distance. she’s dealt with curses before, during her travels, but never on a person. “plus, some people like being honest, no ? all ‘i cursed you as revenge !’ and the like. i’ve met very dramatic wix.” as imogen explained the reason for the fight, she laughs, short and clipped. “don’t need curse vision to tell. ‘s gambling, no ? he definitely cheated; i’d argue they both did. it’s just one of them must’ve cheated badly enough to get caught.” she tuts and shakes her head. “you think he’ll get tired enough to stop ?”
#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.#imogen.
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#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ the mirror shatters but the reflection only multiplies ; gaze upon her mephistophelian self / visual.#i wi ll.. . . .get to other replies after class but#look at She <3
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remoonus:
Where: Frozen Festival, Hogsmeade When: 1st December, early evening Who: Remus && open
This was the sort of situation where Remus felt comfortable in a crowd. Where it was more a case of getting lost in the crowd and finding solace in the dark evening mixed with flickering lights of bonfire and orbs around the tents and various stands. He had always loved the Hogsmeade Frozen Festival, ever since the first time he and the boys had sneaked out of school and into the village for the festival. It wasn’t the sort of thing he got to do as a young child. His father had always been too twitchy about letting Remus out and about, as if being outside at night-time would make him transform without a Full Moon in the sky, or perhaps worrying that one look at the child and all the crowd would turn around and declare there to be a werewolf in their midst. Now, it was almost decade’s worth of happy memories around butterbeer and chocolates and spending pocket money meant to be for Christmas presents on silly games.
He was distracted a moment by the sight of Hogwarts towering over the village, an impressive silhouette which spurred nostalgia within him. Absently he stepped back to let someone pass him but the crowd was too thick and in the process he stepped into someone else. The bag of roasted chestnuts in his own hands started to fall to the floor, as well as the goodies that they were holding but all distraction was gone and Remus had snapped to attention, his reflexes quick as he froze it all in mid-air, just a few of the chestnuts unable to be saved. “So sorry. I think it must be busier this year than ever before, don’t you?”
sybill did not remember the frozen festival ever being so crowded. but then, perhaps her memories of the festival were hazed with the excitement of youth, when something like a long line or being squished into one another like a jar of pickled sardines was marginally less bothersome. the best memories she had of her father were from the festival, when he’d shed that icy robe he covered himself in and bought her as many sweets as she asked for. alone, and after so long, the festival is less nostalgic memories and more a brand new experience, one that - unfortunately - brings an abundance of people being very annoying, as people in abundance tend to be.
case in point: she’s been bumped into again, her dragonhide boots stepped on carelessly for what felt like the hundredth time. she recognizes him instantly - remus lupin is a difficult face to forget. sybill glances at him, then at the few walnuts frozen mid-air between them, and she can’t help it; a puff of air, the tiniest of giggles. “it’s an anniversary, isn’t it ?” she taps her chin. “more people from different places are inclined to come for the first time ever. or first time in a while. i suppose i fall into that list, as well. sorry for crowding up the festival.”
#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.#remus.
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Can you tell that I am different? Flawed? Look at me again.
Nina Varela, Crier’s War (via thebooksaidthat)
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anyway, *daydreams*
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fawleyfate:
Eyes narrow in confusion as the other speaks. All she wanted to do is avoid cedar logg and now it seems like she had bumped into…cedar logg’s sister, devote follower? fuck if she knew, but the idea made her feel queasy. “ A chance meetin’? well this is fecking class. Run in to someone who thinks fecking fate’s real.” She mutters almost inaudibley. Yet, she still sighs reaching her hand out. “ Ye know what? I think I’m cursed in dis life…sure look or whatever but ye need a hand up youngwan?” Eyes settle on the other brows raised as she waited for a response.Not really wanting to be seen as a horendous bitch, especially if the young woman knew her mother she’d never hear the end of it.
sybill shakes her head, pulling herself up to her feet. “you don’t believe fate is real ?” her head tilts slightly, looking at the other in utter bewilderment. sure, fate hadn’t been the kindest to sybill ( she would even argue for her being downright cruel ) but she’d never gone as far as to doubt its existence. she waves a hand dismissively. “you’re not cursed.” her gaze moves to the other’s forehead, squinting at it, all concentration. “no, you’re fine. i’d know if you were cursed.” she would not. “i’m sybill, by the way. are you gambling or are you also desperately trying to find something that’ll keep your attention for more than five seconds ?”
#imogen.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.
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parshingles:
who: open to anyone . where: ignes et galcies . when: december 1st, 1981 .
THE BONFIRE was a marvel.
it stood, proudly, in the center of the carnival, flaming big and bright. par always looked forward to the event every year, mostly because he got to see his friends, but also because he had a bit more time to figure out how the bonfire worked. he was studying it now, looking into the flames as they flickered around the ice and wondering, half out loud and half to himself, if the flames were charmed or the ice. truth be told, he really thought it had to be the ice. the flames seemed too hard to charm; too unruly. then again, he wouldn’t put it against the festival to do something quite so intricate. it was a thousand year old tradition for a reason.
quickly, though, he saw a flame dance, licking the ice and he bent down to watch it, eyes wide in a childish delight. realizing, quickly, that he’d stepped on someone’s shoe, he looked up and offered a grin, “my apologies, then.” standing up, he wiped his hands on his pants and crossed his arms over his chest. “i’ve been a bit preoccupied with the mechanics of it all. y’know, if someone could figure out how to do this in a practical application…” par was getting lost in his own world again, but realizing he was now not just talking to himself, he pulled himself out of it. “anyways, i’m sure you don’t want to hear me yapping on about all that. are you having a nice time?”
she didn’t care much for the bonfire. or any fire that didn’t come from her dragons. still, there was something about it that captivated her attention.
sybill shoved her gloved hands into her pockets, watching the flames dance. a fiery spectacle. it was odd, after having spent years knowing fire as chaos, to come back and see a flame so... controlled. so balanced. a flame that didn’t destroy everything in its path. she wasn’t sure if the sight calmed or unnerved her. fire and ice were meant to clash, and yet here they were, coexisting in peace — certainly the sight elicited some kind of response from her, something sparking in her chest that she might have called wonder if she were still a child.
she was about to turn and find another,�� less distracting distraction when someone’s shoe stomped down on her own. with a jump back, she hissed, prepared to tell them off — only to be met with a familiar face. her expression softened. “you’re alright.” sybill was silent as he spoke about practical applications and mechanics. what would a practical application for such a flame even be ? “i can handle yapping. better than awkward silences. it’s been nice enough. suppose i could have come back during a worse time,” she smiled. “what about you ? have you been having fun or has it all been wondering how to remake things ?”
#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.#gaspard.
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fawleyfate:
Snow crunches under her boots as Imogen hugs her jacket around her body. She loves the Christmas season but hated the cold wind that constantly accompanies it. Eyes wander as she weaves through crowds gathered around game tables that in her very important opinion was just legalized gambling. It doesn’t help that a fight had started over a lost wager accusations of cheating being flung into the air between the two wizards. White blonde locks fling over her shoulder as she watches the interaction before smashing into an oncoming wix. “Merlin’s fucking beard!” Imogen stands rubbing her now snow covered back. “Is that how you always say hello to people or?”
sybill’s grin widens as she looks toward the budding fight. finally, some entertainment. watching people gamble was significantly more boring than she’d thought it would be. but watching a fight ? exhilarating. she’s so entranced, she doesn’t notice her body moving forward, closer to the chaos, until — one second, she’s watching two people argue, and the next a body smacks against hers so hard her arm thrums with pain.
when the other witch stands, sybill looks up at her with a scowl. “you know, some people would consider this a chance meeting.” she crosses her arms over her chest, looking all of a petulant child. “perhaps you should learn to be more perceptive of your surroundings. have you considered that you might have been cursed in a past life ?”
#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.#imogen.
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the lovers
06. the lovers : how important are relationships to your muse ? do they value having a significant other ?
sybill has a very complicated relationship with ( romantic, but platonic as well ) relationships. she pretends she’s a solitary creature. if asked to her face, she’d certainly insist she doesn’t really care, that she’d never entertained the idea of having a significant other. what she wouldn’t say is this: the thought of putting herself back in the hands of another is terrifying. still, deep inside there is still this childish wonder - this idea that someone, someday, will understand her so intrinsically that there would be no other choice but to love them.
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sybill’s intro is here and her ministry profile is here ( + pinterest ! )
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05. the hierophant : what are your muse’s morals / ethics ? do they follow their moral code strictly ?
05. the hierophant : what are your muse’s morals / ethics ? do they follow their moral code strictly ?
sybill’s moral code fluctuates about as much as she does. there are certain things she’s very strict with - not to hurt someone weaker than her unprovoked, not to kill, to be fair and openminded in all things - but under the wrong circumstances, any one of these could go awry. mostly, sybill keeps these types of rules because she knows it’s what her mother would have wanted from her. she has sullied her great-great grandmother’s gift, she has destroyed her relationship with her father; she will not stain her mother’s legacy, too.
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02. the high priestess : how does your muse make decisions ? do they trust their instinct or would they rather trust their heart / their logic ?
02. the high priestess : how does your muse make decisions ? do they trust their instinct or would they rather trust their heart / their logic ?
it definitely depends on the situation. her work with dragons has helped her figure out how to trust her instinct to make quick decisions under pressure. if it’s something that isn’t immediate, she’s torn. she’d like to follow her heart, but she tends to go for the safest option, even if it’s not the option that feels right.
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MAJOR ARCANA ASK MEME.
00. the fool : what are your muse’s thoughts on new beginnings ? does it frighten them or excite them ?
01. the magician : how does your muse feel about fate ? do they believe they can change their own destiny ?
02. the high priestess : how does your muse make decisions ? do they trust their instinct or would they rather trust their heart / their logic ?
03. the empress : does your muse have parental / nurturing figures in their life ? how do they impact them ?
04. the emperor : how much respect does your muse have for authority ? why is this ?
05. the hierophant : what are your muse’s morals / ethics ? do they follow their moral code strictly ?
06. the lovers : how important are relationships to your muse ? do they value having a significant other ?
07. the chariot : how much does your muse care about winning ? are they a sore loser ?
08. strength : how does your muse use their energy ? do they tend to work towards their goals steadily or in bursts ?
09. the hermit : how introspective is your muse ? how often do they self - reflect ?
10. the wheel of fortune : how well / badly does your muse take setbacks on their goals ?
11. justice : does your muse find it easy to be impartial in emotional situations ?
12. the hanged man : how open is your muse to new opportunities ? do they constantly look for them or do they simply take whatever comes their way ?
13. death : is there anything in your muse’s life that they should be letting go of ?
14. temperance : does your muse make plans ? how impulsive are they ? has this gotten them into good / bad situations and how have they dealt with them?
15. the devil : is your muse addicted to any substances ? is there anything that could possibly make them quit ?
16. the tower : what event drastically changed your muse’s life ? do they resent that event or are they glad of it ?
17. the star : what does your muse take inner comfort in knowing ? what guides your muse ?
18. the moon : what does your muse long for ? is it a realistic desire ?
19. the sun : in general, how optimistic is your muse ? does your muse appreciate the small things in life ?
20. judgement : is your muse forgiving of themselves ? how about of others who wrong them ?
21. the world : is there one thing in life that your muse must accomplish ? what will they do when they complete that goal ?
source: x
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“Tell me everything later,” she says, and I can’t stop the grin from spreading over my face because for the first time I have someone to tell everything to later.
Nita Tyndall, Who I was with Her (via thebooksaidthat)
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got caught giving a fuck. embarrassing.
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Mary Oliver, "When Death Comes." Devotions
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tag drop !
#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she longs to dazzle monsters and waltz with death / about.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ but a garden of ashes is still a garden. still demands growth. / meme.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ the roseate dawn pales when faced with the flames caged between your ribs / mine.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ the mirror shatters but the reflection only multiplies ; gaze upon her mephistophelian self / visual.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ you long for the quiet that has abandoned you / answered.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ she crowns herself in the flames she weaves and wonders why she burns / interaction.#⧽ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 ━━ the webs we spin are beatific and neverlasting / connections.#finally.. .. .a full 24 hours later.... i have Tags
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