#èdelie / character musings.

[edeliexii]

voglia di viaggiare | a self para ∞

PART I.

holy matrimony —- nupitals. the tenderness of it all evokes numbness, blinded by the occurrence looming to take place. chocolate strands of hair curled against the crevices of her neckline and heels clunked against the laminated floor, adapting herself to the immersive culture of supernatural species. she momentarily visualizes herself committed in a white gown though only foolishly, blinded by a ferocious feeling of unrequited love which deprived her of sensation. nonetheless, the brunette poured herself into the affection dazzling the air, cherishing the union of two vampires all while pouring herself into the traditions of eladrins. from the queen to the winter chancellor, two women èdelie desired to be, she partly felt at home... but still longed for something more internally. 

upon the soirée, cabernet sauvignon turned to pinot noir, and pinot noir turned to sangiovese. the fey flourished by the incoherent thinking stemming by the intoxicants ingested, muddling her mind, finding comfort by gallivanting in the figment of her imagination. she soon began convincing herself of past ideologies during her time as a halfblood, mirroring the foolishness she previously thought when she was also dubbed a human because of the falsehood spread by her parents. immortality is a sin, and there’d be no more of èdelie as long as she trails the diabolical behavior of all things eladrin. that is what induces painfully, distorting her perspective of potential as a fey.

pangs of conscience made her feel regretful, attempting to compel herself on returning to life as a mortal and the lack of trails she’d deal with had it not been for the damned prize months prior. thus èdelie wandered....

               and wandered, 

and wandered for minutes at end, running after her mouth  —-  running after her soul, and hunting desperately for the an alternate heavenly body. 

PART II.

èdelie’s an abysmal fey, or so she tells herself. if it wasn’t for absolute greed, she’d be nothing more than a mutt, she’s sure of this, though part of this doctrine is from the dozens of wine consumed. deplorable and filled with selfish desires, she behaves according to what the skewed thoughts in her head wired her to do even if it meant hurting herself physically and emotionally. after all, there’s nothing more heinous than a plastered drunk. she lacks originality... she sought too much for authority, she has no home; she has no one, isolating herself into the horrid images curating inside her head.

--------- 

one mistake became too many with the first being droplets of blood soaking the table cloth of where she sat, apologizing to the winter chancellor and guests for her outlandish behavior. it derives from her fixation to do it all, generating frustration, prompting her enhanced strength to create the smallest split of her glass beverage, wounding èdelie in the process. she’d not know what’s to come, challenged by emotional difficulties because of her inability to do anything right. like a child waiting to be coddled, the reassurance gifted by one of the most profound leaders of her community only eased èdelie temporarily, triggering anger at the newfound information of a lycan bite capable of decapitating her when handed a protective circlet.

guilt flooded the winter fey almost immediately. cue another alcohol beverage cradled in her hand, devouring the booze one by one; a toxic reflection of èdelie’s effort to keep her head above water despite the surface wanting to bring her down. 

stillness, however, lingered in the air... and something so unintentional happened so fast. as socialization is one of the primary tasks of the evening, she thought nothing of voluntarily making her presence known through rounds of conversations with different species. it’s the recollection of a familiar face that specifically wired her to engage in discourse without realizing the change in atmosphere. darkness floored the room and a sheer reminder of not bleeding the same as others crept through. unfortunately, she failed to not lose sight of this fact before incisors pierced her flesh. 

PART III.

to feed is, at times, is the means to kill, and is also the means to survive. she couldn’t dare move to resist the aching pain of her soul mangled into a vampires own. she couldn’t dare reach forth for her closest confidants to rescue her without fear of them potentially experiencing harm. emma, micah, farenduil, aurora, dion —- even eric, èdelie’s body ached for them in more ways than imaginable, yet she’s soon consumed by an influx of vampires. 

unable to fend for herself, she swallowed her frantic cries. 

formerly a feathery ice crystal, she perished under the toppling of several vampires, overwhelmed by the lack of feeling within the tip of her toes. 

she’s desensitized. her vision blurs. particles of sweat trickles from the perimeter of her forehead. tears stream down her cheeks. in a short time, èdelie’s at peace.

it goes without stating that the fragility of èdelie expected death to await her. from the violent threats exchanged between herself and her former lover to the damned acceptance by feys for abandoning halfbloods, èdelie sought no way out other than to burn in the pits of hell as punishment for her wrongdoings. 

numbness is now acceptance. 

she sought no other course of action than for her head to be at the forefront of a silver platter. she embodies deception and stupidity, it serves her right. even when freed by the actions of the winter chancellor, convulsive movements happen, inhaling the rich scent of her blood which now coated the entirety of her caramel colored dress worn to the wedding.

 the grand wedding. the red wedding.

PART IV. blended into the fibers of the ground, there’s no concrete plan on the next steps. her mind went blank, laying in a puddle of silence. magic temporarily ceased, vampires fed erratically, and after a while, the brunette assumed she wasn’t meant to be found by any of her confidents. èdelie’s spiritedness dwindled as the minutes passed, incapable of longing for the best. what she does know, or automatically assumed, is that the overall construction of eladrins would be no more. it’s impossible, anathematized after all that’s transpired. 

many have tried to make feys powerless and vampires were capable of conquering that throughout the duration of the evening; èdelie happens to be a prime example of just that.

incoherent, an accustomed odor filled her nostrils, moaning at the delicacy of familiar hands holding her weight. she knew all too well of who stood before her, though fearful of what lies ahead. slender digits could weakly attempt to grab a fist full of their hair, inaudibly crying, “waar was je!”, but she’s hardly heard as her cocoa-colored hues rolled back.

—- her liefde, her maan en de sterren, her nachtmerrie.  

and as much she she fought to maintain the indignation held against them, all of it slipped when the vulnerability extended to their flesh and bones. it’s frightening how transferable their exchange of energy is. 

she yearned nothing more than to lie in the comfort of their skin, embarrassed by wave of sorrow spilling into them, though it comes to a halt when the tiredness from her lack of vitality soon fades everything to an absence of light.

[edeliexii]

TAG DROP.