#❛ ✧ ┊ the snow glows white on the mountain tonight. thread.

[vintersang]

@teamfricndship walked into the unknown.

A year has passed since the accident has occurred, according to her diary. She has religiously worn gloves at all times, including when she was in the sweltering heat of summer. She changed them up occasionally, but she always looked to her father for his approval on everything new. That, of course, included any new gloves to her growing collection. If she couldn’t find her father, then she would instantly go to her kindhearted mother. Her dear parents always knew what was best.

On this particular day, Elsa had visited one of the libraries in order to find a book on old fairytales. Her lessons were finished for the week since she already dutifully completed her work. As a treat, she thought she would visit the closest library in order to find something to keep herself busy. Anna never visited any of the libraries, so it was safe for her. Once she found the thickest book she could find, just how she likes it, is when she begun her quiet retreat back into her bedchamber. It will keep her nice and busy, no doubt entertained with each short story.

The sight of blurry flash of orange immediately made her drop the book in fright. A loud thud is heard as the book falls to the ground. The temperature immediately drops, bringing a chill on this otherwise ordinary summer day. Elsa, though she is indeed frightened, stands her ground against the….. feline intruder?

“A kitty!” Elsa’s fear and alarm is thrown out the window as an infectious smile blooms across her normally sullen face. With the book temporarily forgotten, she takes a couple of steps forward. Her gloved hand is outstretched, inviting the lost animal to pick up on her smell. She learned such a tip from her animal-loving mother. She is resisting the urge to scoop the grown cat into her arms, though her cheerful expression is still written across her face.

“Awww, you’re so cute!” The nine-year-old princess gushes, wished she could show her little sister… But it wasn’t possible. Not anymore, anyway. She had to stay away. “I wonder if Anna managed to sneak you inside— Where did you come from?”

[violettduchess]

Ahhh I hope I'm not too late! Thank you for opening requests! This is exciting! Would you mind doing some headcannons for Cyran, Chevalier, Clavis, and Matias with Emma at a Festival At Night prompt? Thank you! ❤️

A/N: Here you go @echoes-in-the-forest!

A final entry for the Sunshine and Starlight CC hosted by myself and @lorei-writes.

Featuring: Cyran, Matthias, Clavis, Chevalier

Note: Requests that were not written for the challenge may still be written! I just didn't have time to get them all done for this.

WC: 2k

Cyran

The stars above blaze with cold light like diamond-bright pinpricks across the black velvet sky. Over Cyran’s shoulder, the town answers with its own glow: the flickering of white fairy lights strung along the buildings and the stronger, warm orange of the bonfire at the town’s center. For a moment, the sight grabs your attention, holding it prisoner in illuminated chains. But Cyran reclaims it with the grip of his hands on your hips, the hot press of his lips to your cheek. Your eyes fall shut, enshrouding you in darkness but heightening every other sense: the whisper of the wind through the trees as it blends with the gruff sighs of your beloved when you pull him closer; the sweet echo of sparkling wine you can still taste on his tongue; the feel of the rough tree bark through your blouse, against your back; the soft linen of his tunic under your palms, the summer-sun heat of his mouth as it meets yours again and again.

“Seems like coming tonight was a good idea.” You hardly recognize your voice, your breath so shallow, the words rising and falling on an ocean of yearning. He grins against your lips, pulls you even closer. “It will be,” he murmurs with a playful bite to your lower lip. You would chastise him, but you’re laughing too much, giddy with desire and wine and Cyran. Not many have access to this side of him, this passionate, soft, sweet soul that has allowed you in where few have ever tread and holds you there, safe and loved.

“We should at least find somewhere….not quite so woodsy.” You love him and you want him, but you’re also very aware of the sounds of the music, still audible even from the trees where you have hidden yourselves, the laughter of the festival crowd punctuating the air. With great control, he steps away from you, pausing a moment to brush your hair from your shoulders, tuck an errant strand back into place tenderly before looking back at the twinkling village, his bright eyes scanning the night. Then he smiles, slow and satisfied.

“The carriage is not far away. I believe we told the driver we’d stay until midnight which gives us over an hour–” He doesn’t need to say another word. You’ve already threaded your fingers through his, leading the way.

Matthias

He watches the dancing crowd with serious blue eyes, the flickering flame of the torches illuminating their azure depths like frostfire. His tall, strong body radiates a stillness contradictory to the energetic fiddle music that surrounds you. You reach out, sliding your hand into his, wrapping your fingers around his prominent knuckles. A slight tug is all it takes. He glances down at you and tilts his head in inquiry.

“You want to dance?” It doesn’t take a soldier’s hawk-eyed vision to see the hope in your face, the bright question in your eyes. Anyone else would get a cool shake of his noble-head, a frown on his beautiful lips. But you aren’t just anyone. For you, he’d move mountains. For you, he’d raze villages. For you, he will dance.

Effortlessly he takes you into his arms and steps seamlessly into the moving crowd. Under his steady guidance you glide across the cobblestones of the town square as if they were smooth as ice, faster and faster. You are a petal in the wild wind, stardust blown across the snow-capped peaks of the Acroite mountains. You focus on him as the world spins around you. The warm torchlight highlights the blond of his hair and he looks as if he has been kissed by the flames. He quite literally takes your breath away.

You spin like twin planets to the fiddlers' spirited playing until, sadly, the bows pull their final stroke across the strings and the music comes to an end. With your heart racing and your cheeks warm with joy and exertion, he leads you away, sliding a strong arm around your waist as you try to catch your breath. He bends down, his lips close to your ear. “Is everything alright?” You nod, leaning into the strength of his side. When you meet his gaze, you find him studying you, concern tugging his mouth down into a frown. “It was a lively dance and we spun so quickly.” You pause, offering him a gentle smile. “But I do so love dancing with you, Matthias.”

The sincerity of your words pierces his worried demeanor and softens his expression, washing his handsome face in the soft watercolor of love. Spontaneously, he cups your cheek and bends further to kiss you, once, with more tenderness than anyone would think him capable of. You know there is more in that gesture than words could do justice. “My Rosebud.” And then he smiles, soft as morning mist over the mountains. “I love dancing with you, too.”

Clavis

The liquid in your hammered tin cup is a very aggressive green, even in the light of the bonfire at the town’s center. Skeptically, you raise your gaze to Clavis, meeting his delighted golden gaze. “What did you do to my whiskey?” He is still in the process of tucking the small packet of powder back into his jacket pocket. His grin never falters as he looks into your cup and then into your eyes. “Try it, my sweet lamb. I promise I’ve only made it even tastier than usual.” Noting the furrow of your brow, he traces his finger along your cheek. “Trust me, darling. I’d never deceive you.”

You soften at his words. He’d never do anything to hurt you…or make you ill. Ignoring the way your body wants to rebel at the noxious color, you bring the cup to your lips and drink. Flavor explodes across your taste buds. It’s the warmth of a hearthfire on a cold winter’s night. It’s the smokey-voiced whisper of a lover asking you to come to bed. It’s an explosion of amber rioting en masse on your tongue. It’s powerful and comforting and unlike anything you have ever tasted.

“Clavis,” you gasp, gripping his arm with your free hand. “This is amazing.” If he were a peacock, he’d be splaying his tail feathers right now. “I told you, my love.”  He links his arm through yours. “Come with me, let’s go watch the fire eater. I’ve heard amazing things.” You take another sip from your cup. “I drink more of this and I bet I can give them a run for their money.” He laughs as you walk together towards the grassy area where you can watch the display. “Perhaps I should be sure.” Pausing, he catches your chin and tilts your head up before leaning down to kiss you. You melt into the familiar feel of his lips, the comfort of his scent and touch. He takes a moment longer to open his eyes, savoring the taste. “No more flames here than the usual ones every kiss from you causes.” You shake your head, unable to keep from giggling. 

As you settle down onto the cool grass to watch the fire eater, Clavis sneaks a glance at your profile. Beloved, beautiful, the most dear sight in the entire world to him…..even if your lips have turned a most vivid shade of green.

Chevalier

There is so much to see! Acrobats tumbling across the grass, a bonfire right in the town’s center. Fairy lights are strung from building to building. Vendors ply their wares, selling everything from homemade jewelry and woven scarves to meat pies and whiskey. A lively band plays a jig and townspeople dance with glowing abandon, clasping hands and fluttering eyelashes. Young couples sneak off into the bordering forest while others take to the cover of the shadows between buildings. You finish your last bite of powdered pastry and turn to Chevalier who is watching the revelry with a neutral expression. “Do I have any sugar on my face?” He glances at you and the corner of his mouth lifts in an amused smile. “Naturally.” He reaches up, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the dusting of white at the corner of your mouth. You’re contemplating playfully biting that thumb when you hear a wail from quite nearby.

A small child of about five years old is crying, clutching a red balloon in one hand. She has dark curls that spill down her back, the rest of her hair tied up and out of her face with an enormous yellow bow at the back of her head. Her white stockings are dirty as is the smock of her buttercup yellow dress. Oh dear. After exchanging glances with Chevalier, you approach the little girl, kneeling so you are at her level.

“What’s the matter, little one?” The child tries to speak through her sobbing, knuckling at her teary brown eyes with her free hand. “My b-b-balloon flew away and I w-went to catch it. I followed it d-down an alley but once I had it, I looked and my mum was gone! I’ve lost her!” She collapses into tears again. You reach out, placing a soothing hand on her narrow back. “Shh…it’s alright.” You glance over your shoulder at Chevalier. He’s watching you both, his blue eyes dark in the dim light. “We’ll help you find her.” The little girl considers your words as tears slide freely down her round cheeks. She sniffles. “You will?” Then she pauses, suddenly realizing her situation as she takes a step back. “I’m not s-supposed to talk to strangers.” She reminds you of a fawn, trembling right before it sprints into the cover of the forest.

You glance over your shoulder and then turn back to her. “It is a good thing that he is a Prince of Rhodolite.” Brown eyes widen as she looks at Chevalier with newfound awe. “You’re a prince?” He nods once, curtly. “Indeed he is,” you continue. “And it is a prince’s duty to help his subjects when they are in need. Isn’t that right?” You give him a very pointed look and he blinks before answering. “Correct.” The young girl’s crying is forgotten as she studies him. “So princes have to help their people.” He nods again. “It is one of their most important tasks,” you add. She considers this a moment and then mirrors Chevalier’s nod. “Alright.”

You stand, turning to face the crowd of people. After a moment, he addresses the young girl. “You require a higher vantage point.” She nods as if she understands what he means and then lets out a whoop of delight when he lifts her up high onto his shoulders. Her red balloon still held firmly in one hand, she automatically scans the crowd. “There! I see her! By the popcorn stand!!” She thumps Chevalier excitedly on the head and you have to suppress your own laughter. Gruffly he lowers her and without hesitation, she grabs his hand, tugging him in the direction she saw her mother with you in tow.

When her mother spots her, she rushes forward, wrapping the little girl in her arms. “Oh, my love, you gave me such a fright.” A waterfall of gratitude falls from her lips as she thanks both you and Chevalier for your help. The little girl gently breaks free of her mother's relieved embrace and hurries towards Chevalier. She stops right in front of him and smiling brightly, holds out the balloon. “A present. For being a good prince and helping me.” He looks uncertain a moment until you press a gentle, unseen hand against his back. Clearing his throat, he takes the offering. “You’re welcome,” he answers solemnly. 

The little girl and her mother take their leave. As they depart, you can hear the mother’s voice as it fades. “A prince? Oh Lorei, do stop with your wild stories.” When they have disappeared from sight, you reach up, wrapping your arms around Chevalier’s waist and hug him tightly. He embraces you back with one arm, head tilted. “Yes?” 

You lean back to look at him, the red balloon bobbing above his head and smile. “I love you. That’s all.” He offers you one of his rare, open smiles in response before dropping a kiss on your forehead. “And I, you.”

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

@starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381

@whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @wordycheeseblob (Cyran is the first one!) @ozalysss (Chevalier)

[kkaebsongtypo]

[11:57pm] "if you could live anywhere in the world, without the limitations of money or time, where would you live?" You hummed softly and thought about your answer to your boyfriends question. He ran his fingers up and down your bare arm as you both stared at the moon. The bright beams illuminated your bedroom, casting a soft, white glow on your bodies.

"I think I'd move somewhere really nice. Somewhere with mountains and less light pollution in the area so we could stargaze anytime we want. I'd go somewhere with big trees or maybe with a nice view of a lake-"

"You could have both, baby." Mark's soft voice cut you off midsentence. You smiled and giggled quietly before continuing.

"That is true; I'd definitely go somewhere with both. Hmm I'd like to be somehwere that gets every season but doesnt get too hot in the summer. In the winter the lake would look beautiful iced over with the snow falling all around. We would live in a modern ish cabin; maybe an A-frame. I want to be able to see the leaves change in fall time too, that's a must." Mark placed a kiss to the top of your head and hummed. You lifted your head from his chest to look up at him with a sweet smile.

"What about you, baby, that was a really good question and now I want to hear your answer!" The moon reflected in Mark's eyes and made them sparkle even more than usual as they shifted between your own. The white light highlighted his cheekbones when they raised with his smiled. He brought his hand up to delicately caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch and gently kissed his palm.

"Honestly, you're answer was almost exactly what I want too. The only difference is that I actually have a general location; I want us to move to move somewhere in BC, or maybe Alberta in the Banff area." You laid your head back onto Mark's chest, listing to his heartbeat and feeling the subtle vibrations with every word he spoke. He threaded his fingers through your hair as he continued.

"I was also thinking that we would have a dog or two, and they would love playing in the fresh snow in the winter, or leaf piles in the fall. We'd have a nice view of the sunrise in the mornings, and a nice view of the sunset in the evenings. We could have a window angled towards the sky so we can look at the stars even when it's cold, just like tonight." You felt a small burst of warmth spread through your chest. The beautiful scenes Mark was painting in your mind made you feel an almost overwhelming amount of love with each word. You reached for his hand and interlocked your fingers.

"Within all of this though, the one place I want to be more than anything is anywhere with you." You chuckled softly at his cliche line but placed a soft kiss to collarbone.

"I love you." You said with a content sigh; finally noticing Mark's fingertips drawning a small heart pattern on the skin of your back underneath your thin tshirt.

"I love you too. Maybe one day, we can make this dream come true."

unus annus m.l

[shadow-and-quill]

.:Human Folly:. (AU2)

Characters: Zhang Ru (weapon spirit, AU Ritsuka), Torioi Shinya (cultivator, AU Sari)

Warning(s): Mention of blood. My shitty knowledge of ancient China and cultivation practices.

Origin Date: 18 April 2019

In the wake of the attack on his sect’s grounds, the spirit of the bow Endian can’t help but wonder why his mind is stuck in dreams of his past life as the famous artificer.

(Part of the AU2 arc with @ninetales-carbuncle )

----♦•♦----

Despite not requiring sleep in these days, the dreams still find Zhang Ru. The spirit is proud of his awareness of what’s about him even within the yew bow that is his home now. His master is a kind boy, one that needs someone to watch his back. And Zhang Ru is glad to do that as much as he kneaded his nose in frustration after some failed social event. The last thing he needed was the distraction brought upon him by the mix of dreams and memories.

 But it’s when Torioi Shinya sleeps that the ancient spirit finds himself restless. Even more so since the visit of Akiyama Touma and…that Ghost City representative. Hai Shen. There was a mutual disdain there of one another even if they had hardly passed words. Why? They didn’t know each other in their past life, not that he could remember.

 Why was he even thinking this? Pale hands wrung about the crescent moon painted fan in his grip. This evening Zhang Ru had taken to sitting in Shinya’s window, looking down at the melting snow of Katsuragi Peak. There was also a full moon out, setting the white stone structures of the sect into a beautiful glow. It wasn’t as if he could go terribly far from his physical vessel of the weapon anyway.

Oh yes. Because he couldn’t rest. Sometimes he still wished he could sleep. If he could, at least humans had moments of sleeping so deeply that they didn’t dream. And he oh so wished for that right now. Lavender eyes, always so harsh, were unguarded in their weariness as they gazed over the landscape.

 How many years, centuries, had it been and that night was as vivid as if it were hours ago? A wry smirk. Well, everything but /his/ face. Perhaps it was aftereffects of his desperate actions to seal himself inside /something/ to live on while his flesh died. Magic worked in emergency situations hardly went well, even with such a level-headed mind as the artificer. That delicate fan he held had been his lifeline.

 A small sigh, such human habits still. The deep black of his hair fell over his shoulder, loose in a feigned attempt at rest. His layers of lavender and deep violet had been shed to a simple cream underrobe and slacks. It was pitiful, really. Pretending to be human, mirroring his master’s wake and sleep patterns. But it kept him sane. It kept him from descending into a detachment that led to weapons becoming unstable or sealing themselves.

  It had been winter then, hadn’t it?

 His brows furrowed, the fan going to tap against his chin as he glared at the moon. No, don’t think of this again.

 They’d both been dressed in fur-lined cloaks. He’d forgotten how much of a chill could creep into the Huangshan’s rocky peaks. That man had laughed and simply teased that he’d been away ‘playing noble’ for far too long. But he was no noble. Just some backwater village brat with a keen mind that had wanted to protect his friends and family.

 The mountains’ treacherous ways prevented cultivators from patrolling close or answering calls for aid. As a result the unnatural things were free to pick off souls from Zhang Ru’s home and they lived in fear of the dark. His own parents had been victims, friends of the family taking in the young boy. Maybe it had started off as bitterness but then he’d become enthralled with the concept of using physical items to assist on augmenting one’s qi. With such things, cultivators weren’t needed. They could protect themselves.

His inventions became more and more sophisticated, the tiny village no longer cowed by the undead or wrathful spirits. Enough that it had earned attention from the cultivation sects and beyond. And that was how Zhang Ru’s name had spread throughout the region. Many came to him for help, for advice, and he continued to develop ways for the common man to protect themselves and become self-sufficient. No more living in fear.

 But with such success always came a dark path. His tools were taken to be used for profit, sold in hidden markets, disassembled and reassembled. And life had become a drudge to keep these wicked souls away from the pure intentions of his creations. Tired…he’d become so tired of humans’ greed. Perhaps it had been meant for them to be preyed upon.

 So when an old friend came to visit him, a reminder of simpler times, Zhang Ru had embraced the familiarity with heart, soul, and body. Looking back with a jaded mind now, the artificer had entered that relationship far too quickly. He was a shrewd man by nature, he should’ve known.

 But it had felt real. For years he shared his heart and bed with the man whose face was now hidden from his memories. It had been a sanctuary, a place where he didn’t need to hold himself tall and strong, where he didn’t have to have impeccable manners and eloquence, where he could rest in peace with his head on the crook of another human’s shoulder and simply enjoy the silence.

 Zhang Ru had had many suitors. It was no surprise with his quickly accumulated wealth and fame. But he wanted none of that. So when that dear friend (he couldn’t even remember his name now, it died on his tongue) had proposed after all those years, this was the one time such words didn’t feel him with apathy and disgust. No, he’d smiled. A bright smile that only /this/ man had ever seen on his face ever since they were children.

 And he had said yes.

They were to marry back in their home among the Huangshan mountains. Something private, discreet, away from prying eyes. The artificer hadn’t been able to free himself from social engagements for months. And waiting had driven him to a nervous wreck behind closed doors as he waited the chance to return home to a simpler place. Hells, he’d even taken to nibbling those perfectly curved nails and pacing about his chambers.

 Frost had descended upon the valley when he’d finally arrived. Though not a cultivator by training. Zhang Ru’s abilities were augmented enough to let him travel by flying sword, a gift from a trusted advisor in the courts. One of the few souls he could count as being sincere. After all, one needed the guidance of a proper cultivator to make his tools as efficient as possible. As soon as his boots had hit the ground…

 ----♦•♦----

 ~ That smile was unguarded. Only /he/ ever saw it. Even though it was so DAMN cold, Zhang Ru didn’t care. Buried under furs and heavy layers of robes, the blade was swiftly sheathed and he hurried into the shelter of the tall skinny trees. There was a path up there. Unchanged since he was an infant. It led to the cliffs that held the shrines of the village below. A bundle was held against his chest and Zhang Ru felt he could feel ambient warmth off of it. Silly, this wasn’t enchanted or crafted with any of his power! Well…besides his own fingers and hours of needlepoint by candlelight.

He must have looked a fool with that grin on his face, still dressed as a noble of the capital city. The waist-length hair, deep black as a raven’s wing, was up in a proper bun and secured with an amethyst pin. His attire was richly tailored, the boots polished leather, and he carried no less than five of his inventions on his person. And here he was traipsing about in these FREEZING mountains.

 Zhang Ru had arrived early, of course. Punctual by nature this event had made the artificer show with even more leeway than he normally allotted to himself. Breath (oh he couldn’t even remember how it was like to /breathe/ anymore) fogged in the late autumn air as he’d hurried up the wooden steps and passed trees that hung heavy with frozen droplets. Fog obscured the peaks in the distance. It would be a marvelous sight if Zhang Ru hadn’t grown up here, desensitized to the natural marvels of the region.

 Up and around and by the time he’d reached the top of the stairs he doubled over to catch his breath, a familiar catch in his chest. He’d been frail of health as a child, some ailment of his lungs. Wonderful treatment in the capital had eased the symptoms to negligible levels but the cold and exertion in his excitement tickled a bit.

 No time for that!

Pale cheeks rosy from the cold at least Zhang Ru had the mindset to give a proper bow to the stone monuments tucked away in the curve of the mountain. Well, the best he could with a parcel under one arm. No matter how far he traveled, tradition was tradition.

 And then it was time to wait. But his patience was hardly as strong as it normally was. Goodness, he was a mess, wasn’t he? The parcel was opened. Long pale fingers ran over the red cloth. He was used to weaving and sewing from a young age. There wasn’t much money to go about the small village, especially so with the attacks. Mending clothes and such was normal. But this…this was something he’d put all his heart and soul into. Cheeks pinkened further. Here he was acting like some bashful bride! Him! The fearsome and icy Zhang Ru, creator of qi cultivation for the common man! A ‘hmph’ and the long veil was pulled from its protective paper.

 The thin cloth was transparent, its rich red stark against the white and grey of the world about them. Gold thread lined the edges and Zhang Ru pulled it close about him and over his head. Unconventional this would be, but dammit, he was going to enjoy it! There weren’t many things the young man could enjoy nowadays with the constant politics and squabbling and paranoia that came with power. A childish giggle left his lips that would have left the stoic man mortified at one point.

 Not tonight.

And so he waited, sitting on a nearby wooden bench. He remembered when these were made, a place to let villagers below enjoy the comforting sights of the shrine.

 And he waited.

 In time nerves began to grow. Had something happened? Did he get the date wrong?

 Had…he been left to stand here in the dark, abandoned?  ~

 ----♦•♦----

 And then there had been the sound of boots on the stone.

 Zhang Ru rubbed his face. No, he didn’t want to remember this again.

 And he’d turned, a smile on his face and a scolding on his lips. That familiar handsome face wore a smile as well.

And gods taken him, he’d been so enamored, so eager for this, that he’d missed that intent hiding in that smile.

 The dagger had sunk into his chest without a protest. How could he have known? The artificer had dealt with multiple assassination attempts, greedy men attempting to steal his designs and knowledge. But…why here, why now?

 His mind still refused to work even in the pain. He hadn’t pushed away the other, he was frozen as warmth trickling from the blade. Comforting warmth crept down his chilled skin.

 Why? It left his lips, rang in his eyes.

 Why?

 Greed. The folly of mortals.

 Even as he laid dying in the snow, that red veil about him, his body had been searched for anything of value. The trinkets, his journal, his sword. All taken. And they had left him as the snow began falling, tears in his eyes.

 Why?

 Numb inside and out. But Zhang Ru was a man of determination and will. His mind pushed past his heart’s shock and betrayal. No. His work, his legacy, it wouldn’t be left like this. Fuck the rest of those men. He was still him. Shaking bloody fingers had found the one thing the thieves, /assassins/, hadn’t taken. A simple hand-painted fan tucked inside his robes. It had no power, just an average little item. And with his last breaths, Zhang Ru trusted his life to it.

To this day he had no idea who’d originally found the fan. His soul had slept, dormant. But the artificer had been fortunate enough that he’d never been discarded. He was shuffled from owner to owner throughout the centuries until he was taken in by the Torioi clan. The Katsuragi sect was impressive in its glory days of growing China and their cultivators keen and disciplined individuals. Thus his presence had been found and transferred into the impressive collection of enchanted weapons within the Peaks’ vaults.

 Once he’d woken it had taken a few years for him to remember his origins. With the aid of the multiple masters he’d been assigned to guard in the sect, Zhang Ru was baffled to see zero mention of his name in texts. What had happened? He’d been erased utterly and completely. Nothing of his achievements and deeds. His seals didn’t appear on any of his creations and inventions.

 It had been a shock. But there had been no time to ruminate on what had occurred over the time he’d slept. In a twist of irony, the keen Zhang Ru was now a weapon himself. He’d been transferred to a beautiful whitewood yew bow named Endian, ‘grace.’. His first master had been a strong young woman of the Torioi line, that white hair and pale skin a clear indicator of the true blood in her.

 And so his new history had begun. Master through master for a good century. And now he was in the hands of Torioi Shinya.

 Another sigh in the stillness of the night. No breath left his lips. He hadn’t taken to physically manifesting this night. Shinya had amazing qi reserves, unnaturally so. It was why the proud cultivator family had adopted a stranger into its bloodline. Still, there was no need to tax his master for no reason but his restlessness.

 What would happen now? The Akiyama were here. The Ghost City was also poking about much to Shinya’s fear. When Endian had been entrusted to Shinya when he was still young, Zhang Ru had bonded with him as expected and he’d seen the torture that the child had been put through at the hands of merchants in the Ghost City. He’d been set to be cut into pieces and sold off for his strong spiritual energy. The poor boy had already had an eye taken from him before Lady Torioi had found him and spirited him away.

 His master’s unease as well as that ghost, Hai Shen, were things he didn’t like. Those lavender eyes darkened, near violet, as he thought of that figure. There was some instant, immediate hostility between the two of them. Not that Zhang Ru was exactly personable to begin with. He hadn’t been in life and it had only become more jaded as a spirit entity.

 The fan was tapped against his chin again. There were going to be changes about. The Katsuragi had fought to maintain its isolationist cultivation practices in the modern day. People simply didn’t believe in such ways anymore, didn’t have the heart to adhere to the many rules. And now something out there was wreaking havoc on important places and people in the cultivation world.

 There was a war on the horizon.

[meetmeatthestart]

Skye Rocket lyric collection

A selection of lyrics from Skye Rocket songs, including ones from their time as Rocket Ship Resort. Perfect to use for thread titles, ship tags, verse names, blog quotes, etc. Feel free to get creative.

A better place I'd never find

A cool breeze sweeps through the silver dust

A dance of misfits

A date with a time trial showdown

A different air waits for us

A ferris wheel tune

A fighter with a nature of gold

A glimmer on a winding trail

A glimpse of the night

A handful of fire

A lighthouse of love

A lonely flare in the dark 

A lullaby along the moon

A map to get back home

A smile among the storm

A snowball deep in hell

A window straight to the deep

Across all that reaches land

Adrift in the sighs

Ain't a chance we go outta style

Air that presses my lungs to paper

All the salty wit of an old drunk

All the ships eclipsing the ocean

Alone through the dark part of life

Among every storm and spark

An old wish, a dusty sign

And it cuts like a knife 

And the wound's getting bigger 

And when the sun goes down

And when you see its colors

Astray in the sky

At least we're adventure

Autumn blaze

Ballrooms and bridges

Bandanas and black boots

Be the might to my light shows

Bet I'll make ya light up like July

Boiled with blood pent

Born of the sunlight's dust

Bound down to a life on the free way

Break apart old cautions retold

Break the glass of every old impasse

Break us into the sky

Breathe deep into me

Breathing electric starlight

Burdened with gorgeous nature

Buried, wounded to the core

Burn as bright as you can

But you won't turn me

C'mon out to the edge of the world

Can we have a home everlasting

Cause there's vodka in the water

Chasin' disaster

Chasin' disaster; goin' faster

Chemicals of catastrophe

Come and stay with me

Come with me to race all the crumbling walls

Comfort within her chaos

Could you go if you had to?

Cry out to silence

Deep through beauty, treachery, and howling hail

Determined to be deflaters

Devoid of the morning daybreaks

Did a glow catch your heart?

Distant days of crescent moons

Do you find your way worthwhile?

Do you wanna run far away?

Do you want to run away?

Dogma's yearly tradition

Dream something new

Dressing up with dyed roots

Drifting on a cloud blanket

Escaping my tired mind

Every chip is a chilling climb

Eyes of ice in the sunshine

Fall white for another night

Falling through the snow

Far beyond the tallest trees

Fighting what the kings say 

Follow the trails in the air 

For life, for naught

Free your aurora

From atop the trees, reaching out so free

From high off the flowers

From the venom here

Fuck your war, I'm here for the starlight 

Ghost pepper voodoo

Give me a taste of oxygen

Give me all your pieces

Greetings, my glider

Growing up so fast

Hanging on the dawn

Hard times have you now, but you'll be alright

Harness it, make your mark

Heaven knows where we will go

Her gust is givin' you your flight

Hidden beneath the worries

Hits like a rocket

Home is where fires unite

Homesick for vistas new

I bet I'll make it light up like your eyes

I can taste the race in your heartbeat

I don't know how long this road goes out

I feel each step so slow

I held those words as law

I know the way, let's head there

I lack the blood to suck tonight

I lost you at the bay

I will save you every night

I wish I could take you sailing

I wouldn't hold your breath

I'd never believed in slowing down

I'd rather sweep a breeze under those old ashes

I'll be chasing the moon

I'll be rage on all fours

I'll be unleashed

I'll hold onto you as long as you hold onto me

I'll see you over the moon

I'll take a shot of what she's havin'

I'll take the heart break

I'll take the heart break before I slow

I'll wake up real soon

I'm fading fast

I'm seein' stars, the way you're flashin'

I've been here before

I've got a lot in my view but no one else that I can see

Ice upon the river

If summer had a daughter

If you chase the same chill in your weathered bones

If you're still awake by chance

In a dash we'll crash down the party

In a love story, where beauty is might

In the air we'll dance like we used to

In the grass like a landmine

In the july heat

In time the smoke will leave here

Invisible to the stars

It matters not what's outside

It's time to bring it all out now

Just lift your head aloft and wave

Just to cut me down to you

Just what this world needs

Kicked to the frost

Kicking rocks on a turnpike

Kiss the earth, let's disappear

Left here with life

Lend me the sight giants behold

Let me lead your breath home

Let me see your eyes 

Let your heartache down with your hair

Let's be lost, let's be heroes

Let's carve out our open view

Light a thousand streets

Like a backdrop for the moon

Like a lantern in the dark

Like a lightning strike in your heart

Like a phone hardwired

Like a secret in the dark

Like a whisper in a glance 

Like an earthy rust

Like the heaven's snow

Like you woke in the ocean

Listen close, my rogue

Lunar endeavors

Made of fireflies

May the guiding wind adorn us

Mistress magic

Movin' with mischief

My words are with you

Numbness is living on a loss

Of the demons in my thoughts

Oh will our hearts endure

On blankets of rockets and trees

One last ride up above the night 

Our wind in the sails

Out in search of truth

Out on the great wide blue

Please come down from your window

Please just give me one last dance

Poets long for words like your dreams

Princess Red Rum

Problem number one

Racing meteors

Rain on the river

Rainfall resistance

Reachin' up to the moonlight

Relentless, your scars open up wide

Remember how it sounds

Reminiscent of wings, you went

Ride on, shooting star

Ring your light through the dark

Rogues among the stars

Run like the rain

Running circles

Rushing like Niagara Falls

Scars that are far and gone

Scrapbooks and reflections

Seas and passions

Seashore at the door

See the sun surround you

Shadows shaped by gryphon stars

Shining soul, in the shade

Shooting for the stars

Show the way through the wild miles

Silver relics on the shore

Singing like a lonely ghost

Sky blue: it suits you!

Smile, you're wild inside

Snow dives by so quietly

Souls fade white

Specter on the bay

Standing in the night

Stars that look like you

Starstruck, a deep blue

Stay aloft for me

Stay awake, I plea

Still standing here years later 

Storm like the sea

Submerged neck deep

Sunrays and lattes

Swept along with a grip so sure

Tempest route

The air here is of your soul

The blood runs like a river 

The buildings glow

The clouds made their own way

The dance of the wind and waves

The ghost had a bouquet

The hope that you'd been saving

The horizon, it runs forever

The howling crowd's alive

The last time I felt alive

The meltdown ain't gonna thaw

The midnight streets

The midnight streets are empty without you

The night covers the earth

The night in front of you

The prettiest cold air

The rustic gears of establishment

The silent sky

The unruly, truly quite bizzare

The walls are your protection

The yell of a young punk

Theme park in the dark

There's magic in disguise

There's no need for frights, it's a show of lights

These gloves play love like guitar

Throttle it out

Through all the heartaches

Through nights into dreams

Through that disguise

Through the ballroom hall 

Through the land and night

Through the lights and heights of the compass caches

Through the time each night recalls

Through thunder's embrace

Till I stop the show

To the lands out somewhere far

Tonight we are aloft

Too heavy for words

Trace my touch all through here

Treasure maps and shaky floorboards

Triumph, scandal, all her name lends

Try to stay a little while

Trying to escape a whirlwind 

Tumbling sunbeams

Turn all the lights down

Under the moon and snow

Under the show of chaos

Up late, darin' fate, just to know

Waiting on a faint light

Wanted for love crimes

Watch the rockets reply

Watch the sands blow to wherever you are

Watch the sinking silver

Watch the stars swim through this ocean of air

Wave to the stars

We are like fire

We are momentum

We are the doomed ones

We are the stars hangin' up free

We can ride a road everwinding

We still share the same moon

We'll be the backbone

We're blowing the hurricanes down

We're pioneers

We're tearin' down mountain sides

We're the heat, we're the guns

We've been marked

When are ya waving my way, baby?

When the gates make way

When the leaves leave us

When the riots meet

When the sea grabbed me ahold

When the wind came a-knockin' 

When time just won't wait 

When your heart has been so bold

While the sparks danced up

While the sun follows you

Wield your wings for your own rhythm

Wisdom and a smile with a saber

With a touch of grace 

With the tidal burst

With the wrath of the red

Wolves among the shadow

Years and years of fighting here

You and me and the seven seas

You are a renegade

You can find me where the clouds part

You can plunge in anxiety so grim

You can survive on caution and foresight

You don't have a single flaw

You lived on with them, now they live on with you

You sing with the sounds of the seas sincere

You swore to win the war? I withdraw

You think you're a king

You think you're justice

You think you're the light

You're a bottle of lightning

You're dissolvin' the last straw

You're givin' me a little mania

You're not your demons

You've got a story 

You've got a window

You've got a window of time and air

Your heart beats so rhythmic and pure

Your leap won't lend you much leeway

Your lonely cell is waiting

Your silhouette sings profanity

Your soul is a bird

[hunterkillahdrone-blog]

Painting Pictures

A sunset of peach and cherry fell into the saddle of blue mountains in the west. A late blooming fruit dropped from the branches of heavens orchards to be laid ever so gracefully, places to nestle gently in a basket wove and scented with fans of white firs. Spiders silk threaded through the eye holes of Ponderosa Pine needles hold it in place before it is wrapped in a shield of bark from the old growth in an effort to contain this burning hot delicacy of fire we assume shall be feasted upon come morning. I watched this gathering of gold by mountains peak, in awe of calloused hands that carry the weight of these spoils. The handle held in fingers made of stone, knuckles white with snow strain to hold on in bitter cold, ignoring whipping winds that slither down frozen rivers gorge, an icy serpent flipping its tongue to send a wicked whisper, chilling the spine of jagged volcanic rock, with moss growing like goose pimples raising on rough skin. It listens through canals of caverns chiseled into cliff faces towering above, home of birds clever and well travelled. They can hear thunder before it crashes, and warn the range to prepare for approaching winters storms, and to ignore the lies of cold blooded gales howling promises of failure to withstand the pressing load of longing nights. As the October sky takes the hands of these mountains to trade the sun's heavy glory in exchange for a miracle to be cast upon the canvas of the world, painted by the finest brushes, dipped in paints made from dust of angels wings, ground and mixed with dyes hand selected by gods from across the cosmos. Peeking over your shoulder is a waning moon, still height from its totality in Blood a night prior listening to my thoughts in silent patience, a gaze that had uncharacteristically looked upon the back of my neck unnoticed while I was weakened by a mural on Earth's ceiling. When I finally turned to realize her miraculous beauty looking beyond, melting bars of pure silver, blowing the liquid into southeastern skies into cloudy bubbles that pop to dust the twilights darkest edges with sparkling stars. I stare into her eye, a pupil of white gold surrounded by the darkest shades of grey, the color of mystery. A light adrenaline rushing through my veins earls my skin with a desire to explore every inch of the vastness that is her mind, to adventure with eyes closed to feel the soft edges of her skin upon my lips... I break my stare and realize that these are your eyes. I have forgotten how they match the soft glow of full moons behind evening clouds. Like candlelight flickering through the silhouette or juniper branches, twisting with knots and tangles, like the hair of Vikings at war, marching up high desert hillsides in the cloak of dusk. Eyes that I do not want to run from, seducing me into dreams I feel i could trade my soul to live in for eternities, here in this moment, around this fire whose blaze highlights the smile that lingers on your face. As the stars speckle the night sky, I am reminded of the scars, freckles, and marks on your skin, as if you were the time where sunsets and moon rises meet. Tonight I have seen every color known to man reflect through clouds, drifting smoke, and heat from coals that warps the air around. I have seen them with you, and think of how many colors we could create, if we were to join like mountains and skies to share burdens and strengths, summers and winters, autumn's and springs. I have seen every shade of color connect in perfect harmony, like music exploding through space above me, Still, you are the color I would pick if I could will paint upon fate's bristles, and guide the hands of gods, moving the brush across space to gift what would be forever known as beauty in its truest form.

[daedriclorde]

Krent Mon Do Akatosh

Humble Beginnings; A series of one-shots

Mountain Cache

Read it here on Ao3

“Gods, it’s cold.” Aerisif muttered to herself. She wrapped the pelt around her shoulders tighter. “Are we nearly there?” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

Brynjolf turned over his shoulder. Equally buried under furs, he raised his voice to be heard. “Aye, looks like its just ahead. Almost there, lass.”

The mountain they were hiking up was engulfed by a blizzard. Going was slow, the snow already deep and piling up fast. Aerisif carefully tread in Brynjolf’s tracks to make her way easier, and to hide her own.

The snow was pelting their faces, like icy arrows. They kept on, plowing through the snow and blizzard for another quarter of an hour. Brynjolf stopped at a stone cairn. He bent down to hold the snow encrusted cloth sticking out from the top. He brushed the caked on snow and ice away, revealing a piece of burlap with a Shadowmark stitched in black thread.

“Here! Look for the cave, it should be behind you!”

Aerisif turned toward the mountain face. She squinted, and made out a pile of rocks that were slightly sheltered from the blizzard. Stumbling toward them, she discovered that the cave opening was just beyond, sheltered from view by the large outcropping above.

Brynjolf ushered her inside. It was warmer in the cave, simply due to the lack of wind. Aerisif felt in her pack for a torch and lit it with a flint.

The cave was small, maybe 10, 15 paces deep and maybe an arm’s length above Brynjolf’s head. Aerisif moved the torch around until she found the cache they were looking for. A shadowmark was scrawled on a barrel tucked in the back of the cave.

“Payoff better be good,” Brynjolf murmured as he pried the lid off the barrel.

Their eyes were hit with golden shimmers reflecting the torchlight. It was full of gold, gems, fine jewelry, and beautifully crafted weapons and armor.

“Gods,” Aerisif whispered, her eyes locked on the bounty. “Okay, the hike sucks, but you were right about the payoff, Bryn.”

He gently ran his fingertips over the gold. “Let’s load up.”

The pair of thieves quickly split the treasure between their two packs. This helped lighten the load, but also prevented a total loss if one of them got caught.

“We’re not going anywhere tonight. Let’s make camp here.” Brynjolf suggested.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I don’t want to die on this gods forsaken mountain.”

“Ah, now, lass, it’s not so bad! I think you might find it’s rather stunning up here.” He flashed her a charming smile as he stacked some wood to build a campfire.

“This? This frozen wasteland?”

“Frozen wasteland? Are you a Nord or not, lass?”

Ignoring the question, she continued. “Listen. I grew up in the Reach. We don’t get these snows there. When I left, there was a good reason I didn’t go to Winterhold or Eastmarch. I like. Riften. Weather. Okay?” She emphasized the last part.

A fire now glowing between them, Brynjolf smiled at her again. The firelight flickered in his green eyes, making the golden flecks inside dance. “Fine then, I guess I’ll just have to keep you warm.” He stood and walked around the fire to wrap her in a fur with him.

Aerisif snuggled close to him. “I guess that’d be okay.”

***

“Lass.”

She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but Aerisif woke up to a dwindling fire and alone in their bed roll. Hazy, she looked around.

“Lass,” Brynjolf called from the mouth of the cave.

Aerisif turned and saw him eagerly motioning toward her. “What is it?” She tensed and grabbed her knife. “Bandits? Trolls?” Gods don’t let it be a troll.

“No, we’re safe. Come here!” He grinned and waved her over again.

What has gotten into him?

Aerisif pulled herself up and took the fur with her. She stumbled over to the cave opening in the moonlight, when she stopped in her tracks.

The sky gleamed in marbled, heart-stirring hues. The most vivid purples, blues, greens, and pinks Aerisif had ever seen painted the night sky.

It absolutely took her breath away.

Brynjolf guided her to the trail’s edge and sat her down, where he had been stargazing himself. He wrapped the fur around them both and pulled her close to him.

Aerisif could not tear her eyes away from the sky. The shimmering auroras gleamed and pulsed in the sky. Secunda and Masser were both full tonight, a rare occurrence that changed the vista. The moonlight was stunning, illuminating the mountains in pearly light.

Oh, the mountains.

How beautiful they were! How proud they stood. The auroras painted them too, gently dusting them in jewel tones. The starlight made the snow sparkle. It reminded Aerisif of a gem Brynjolf had shown her once, a creamy white stone flecked with every color in the rainbow. Opal, he had called it.

And the sea! The northern coast caught the moonlight and made it dance. The stars flashed and twinkled in the waves, the greens and blues of the auroras finding their home in the hues of the sea.

How quiet it was! On the hike up the mountain, how the wind had howled, and the snow and ice seemed to scream. But now, here, she was just struck with the silence of it all. How this magnificent show could be happening without a single noise. How even the snowflakes falling made no sound. Aerisif was often swimming in silence, as a thief, but this was different. There was something sacred to this silence, and Aerisif dared not disturb it.

It all struck Aerisif dumb. She sat there with an open jaw, eyes wide with wonder. She felt no shiver as she soaked in the vista.

And all the while Brynjolf could not take his eyes off her.

The wonderment in her silver eyes made them shine in a way that no loot, no cache, no pay out could. The way the light caught and danced in her hair was never seen in the depths of the cistern.

But what caught him the most was just how enthralled she was in it all. She forgot the cold, forgot about the bounty in their packs. Aerisif was filled with awe and reverence, and the joy that filled her face absolutely lit it up. Brynjolf couldn’t help but get caught in the contagion of her wonder.

That I could deliver this scene to her every night we’re alive, Brynjolf thought.

And so for the next several hours, while the vibrant jewel tones of the night auroras gave way to the gentle pastels of dawn, while the sea danced first with moonlight and then with the sunrise, while the snow softened from a glittering gem to a gentle white, while Aerisif watched the wonders of the world around her, Brynjolf watched the light in his love’s eyes.

[vintersang]

@historiavn walked into the unknown.

For the most part of the celebration, Elsa has kept quiet. She observed the flow of all her guests, lost in a perfumed sea of unfamiliar faces. She thought her little sister's familiar face would soothe the uneasy knots in her stomach, but Anna has disappeared in the crowd. Her arm was linked with a handsome man with sideburns, but she didn't get a chance to catch a snippet of their conversation. Anna looked as happy as she remembered her to be, perhaps even more happier. She spotted a blush decorating her freckled face, no help of rouge needed.

Though she longed to go speak to her sister, perhaps try to speak to the man that captured her sister's attention, but Elsa remained on the sidelines. She stays in the ballroom, unable to stray away from her party guests because someone had to be present. Her sister had the freedom to wander away tonight. She is breathing in and out to try to calm her nerves, still frazzled by the way the frost crept upon the golden relics when the bishop discreetly warned her about her gloves in the royal chapel. All she had to do, now, is survive this party. Elsa begins to wander amidst the crowd, slow yet graceful, as she listens to snippets of conversations.

She had no intention of joining any conversations, truly... All she longed for is to breeze past conversations. She paused heard something that caught her attention, something utterly unexpected. The hushed topic of war reaches her ears, but so did the urgency of the concerned voice. She has been raised by many etiquette lessons ever since she could crawl, so Elsa would never dream of interrupting someone's conversation. She, however, also heard the name of Arendelle in the same sentence as war.

She had to interrupt this little private conversation for Arendelle's sake—

Politeness will have to wait—

"I don't mean to intrude on your private conversation, sir..." Elsa jumps in, hands tightly clasped together. Her tone of voice is quiet, but it's coldly polite. Her gaze is sharp, but her voice still has the compassion of kindness. Wariness coils around her like vines of frost-covered thorns, but there is still a speck of kindness. She dons her mask quite well, no doubt trained for many years, but her stiff hands tell a different story. Something is eating away at her mind, though she does a good job at hiding it. Only the most observant can spot the tiny cracks in her behavior.

I didn't realize my coronation party has suddenly become a place to try to discuss another country's war. Elsa thought her world could never be shaken so violently again ever since what happened to her parents, but this American guest has proven to uproot her. Today has already been an incredibly long day, but hearing someone talk about a war is enough to bring a chill to the ballroom. Three years ago... Has it really been that long since her parents died at sea?

What would her father say if he was still here? She wish she knew what to do. Inhaling deeply, Elsa raised her head a bit higher to try to remain as regal as possible. She cannot believe someone is trying to recruit assistance for a war overseas on such an important day. Did they not know? Were they filled with desperation to try to end?

It seems like you're only reason for being here on this special occasion is to convince the Kingdom of Arendelle, my father's pride and joy, to join another country's war... All you want is to deplete our sources for your own gain. Elsa kept her bluntness, sharpened by her uneasiness and distrust, to herself. She knew her thoughts were childish, something created in the heat of the moment. She knew she shouldn't spout such carelessness, not when she has no information to defend her claims. This man before her... All he wanted was to protect his home.

He's far from home, that much is clear by his accent. He is risking his life for something beyond his grasp, grasping at straws. She can understand his desperation, so this realization allows her to smooth her suspicious mind... for the time being. In this moment, she wished she could be more of a social butterfly. Tonight, however, is already draining her.

"It would be best to discuss such important discussions in a more... private setting. Somewhere less loud, perhaps. It's beautiful outside tonight, so the balcony sounds like an ideal location, don't you agree?" Elsa offered to the stranger, feeling all too aware of so many eyes upon them. She had to get it out of her. She was not the tall guest's conversation partner, however. It was up to them on whether they wished to talk elsewhere.

[vintersang]

@lielove walked into the unknown.

Elsa has always wanted to explore Arendelle when she was growing up, especially during the festivals. Her mother and father always encouraged her to know the people as much as possible. Both of her parents were busy, but it was her mother that extended her hand to the everyday people. While her father handled the country, it was her mother that took many trips beyond the castle. Once in a blue moon, Elsa would join her mother. It wasn't as often because her lessons held her back, but so did her fears of her power.

Olina, the castle's head chef, bluntly told her that she spent too much time alone. With no titles to call her own, Olina was merely part of the royal family's staff. She took pride in her domain, which was the kitchen. She reared the kitchen staff, surprisingly having an iron fist. Even though Olina could be very strict, she was refreshingly honest yet still caring. She didn't care that she belonged to the royal family, nor did she care about how Elsa will be the future queen.

Her parents were still away at seas, leaving Elsa to pace in her bedchamber. It has been a whole week now, but she has yet to hear any news from them. Olina insisted she needed to distract her mind before she made herself sick with worry. Aware of Elsa's decision to stay away from Anna, the head chef proposed another idea. Go to the opera house, Olina suggested when she picked up a tray of hardly touched food. Elsa, however, insisted that it would be too crowded... too dangerous.

Then go sit in the balcony window, Olina immediately countered back. She will be safely tucked away from the public, left alone to her own devices. Still uncertain about the idea, Elsa took this idea straight to her father's most trusted companion, Kai. He approved of the idea, though he did frown when Elsa insisted that she should go alone... without Anna. Unlike Olina, her father's chief assistant did not make a reaction - most likely because he has grown accustomed to the situation. Kai allowed her to go, but he insisted that she should take multiple guards as well as himself.

There wouldn't be any harm in leaving the castle, right?

Elsa's breath was taken away when she entered the opera theatre as she peered at the beautiful building from the window of the carriage. The cream-colored interior of the opera house boasted many windows, but it promised even more elegant architecture inside. Though she wasn't comfortable to be in public, certainly not without her parents, the sound of attending some kind of play did sound appealing. Guilt did snag at her heart when she knew Anna would love this location, but she tried to ignore it as best as she could. It wasn't my idea to come here... Elsa told herself, though it did nothing to stop herself from feeling guilty.

Anna should be here, not her.

She would never think about leaving the safety of the castle. Olina and Kai, however, were more encouraging to let her go. Kai's presence in the carriage did ease some of her worries, though he told her that Anna will be happy with spending time with Olina in the kitchen. Elsa's stiff body relaxed when she heard that news. Anna was always having fun in the kitchen, happy to try out baking. Maybe Anna could come to the theatre next time, Kai suggested, once Elsa sees this trip will be safe and well.

Elsa, however, did not react to his hopeful comment. All she could bring herself to do was tighten her gloves, unable to trust herself to speak. Kai stepped out first, offering her assistance out of the carriage. He guided her to the entrance to slip her inside, closely followed by guards. Kai stuck by her side until they made it to the separate balcony window. Once seated is when Elsa sits back in her seat, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She did it, she couldn't believe she had done it―

Sitting at the balcony window all by herself allows her room to breathe. It only took three long minutes to realize that the emptiness of the balcony seats were... lonely. It has eased her worries, but the emptiness swallowed her up.

With a sigh, Elsa stood up to lean over the balcony. The finely dressed audience were down below, bubbling with a strange eagerness. Isolated from the bustling streets of her father's kingdom, Elsa was surprised by the sight of the excited crowd. A pang of jealousy struck against her heart when she saw all of them wearing their hearts on their sleeves, something she could not allow anymore. Emotions were too dangerous for someone like her, but her curiosity still outweighed anything else.

With the help of her opera glasses in her gloved hand, Elsa scanned the stage to see the source of the crowd's joy. The 18-year-old princess found the source in the form of a beautiful young woman, draped all in white. Her dark hair is long and flowing, crowned in a floral crown. Her youthful face, only delicately touched by hints of makeup, and shimmering purple eyes told the princess this performer was close to her own age. Very close, but that is all Elsa could gather from this distant observation. Elsa stared at the performer, awestruck over her beauty and the loveliness of her costume. She looked as if she belonged on the stage, ripped from the pages of a fairytale.

Just who was this person on the stage?

[vintersang]

@dangaer has walked into the unknown.

Her hands have been trembling all day, starting ever since the gates were opened for her coronation day. Only God knew this, but Elsa has used her three years to try to prepare herself for the day where she must take her vows. Once a week, maybe twice a week if she was feeling brave, she would secretly go to the royal chapel to train herself. She would grasp the solid scepter and orb, gold and ancient, without the use of her gloves. She should lose herself in prayer when visiting the royal chapel, but all she could do was practice and practice on holding her pose.

Three years of private training by herself were wasted, however... Frost still crept over the sceptre and orb the moment she was forced to remove her gloves, much to her dismay. No one, she hoped, would notice the sight of their newly crowned queen. They may see her stiff shoulders, maybe even the rigidness of her hands, but hopefully not the chill in the air. Completing one single day is all she needed to worry. Her coronation day may have almost gone terrible, but she managed to handle such a daunting task... only by a thread of pure luck.

Everything was almost over. All she had to do is survive the celebrations until it was time to retire back to her bedchamber, safe and all alone. She skillfully avoided invitations to dance, weaving together excuse after excuse. Not many, however, had the courage to ask for her hand. One messy conversation with Anna, her dearest sister, is all that it took for her world to come crashing down before her very eyes. Ice burst forth, dangerous and sharp and refusing to listen to her. Everyone saw the sight play out, including many wide-eyed foreign guests— The Duke of Weselton cried out of the word she feared most: Sorcery!

One word is all it took for Elsa to flee from her own home.

It rang in her mind, louder than any church bell.

The horror of the people, her people, played back in her mind with each step she took across the lake. She ran and ran and ran, adrenaline fueling her legs to keep moving. She ran until her lungs burned. She left a trail of decay in her wake, frost creeping over everything around her. Elsa didn't know how much time she has lost, but soon the world was covered in snow. The cool summer night is gone, replaced with a cold that was more colder than the corpse of a body. The wind howls, matching the unseen storm within her racing heart...

Fat snowflakes fall from the heavens above, not showing any signs of stopping any time soon. The onslaught of snow and loud wind make a violent yet beautiful dance. Anyone caught in this weather would no doubt lose their bearings... if they weren't already freezing to death. Elsa pushed forward, still wearing her coronation dress. She kept moving, not bothered by the weather. She only had one single thought in her mind: Get as far away from Arendelle as possible.

How many in attendance saw her secret become revealed? She knew there were many influential people at her party, ranging from the Southern Isles to all the way in Italy. The list was too long for her to remember, but the castle's staff were more than prepared to welcome as many guests as possible. They had more than enough plates and finery to entertain foreigners, eager to have the castle come back to life again. Even though she was far from the eyes of society, the memory of all their eyes landing on her body is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach. Their shock and horror stabbed her, pinning her to her spot. Even now, the thought of being caught only encouraged her to move.

"What do I do now?" She murmured the desperate question to herself, but she knew she was speaking to her father. She secretly wished for her father's spirit to materialize, though she doubts she can handle the sight of his disappointed expression. She longed for his comforting hand as much as she desired a drop of his wisdom. There are no spirits on the mountain tonight, no one here to guide her away from herself. Like her mother and the rest of the people on their ship, her father's body is lost at sea. Her prayers for them to miraculously survive were not granted as the whole world of Arendelle fell upon her shoulders.

Elsa falls to her knees, hindered by her dragging cape and aching legs. The snowstorm continues to beat down upon the land, only lightening up once every few minutes. Soon, her tracks will be covered up by snow. She stares down at the tiara in her bare hand, weighing the options in her head. "I don't know where to go..." The words are released to the wind, unable to escape from the harsh reality of how she fled from her people and duty and... her own sister.

"But I can't... I can never go back..." They will kill her, will they not? No one, not even Arendelle's nearest and oldest allies, will accept a sorceress as a legitimate ruler. A witch with a cold heart is not meant to rule anything or anyone; their fate is meant to be condemned to death. She was, perhaps, even more disliked than a bastard trying to claim the throne. Elsa remains on the snow-covered ground, clutching her tiara closer to her chest. She allows the wind to muffle her sobs, unknowingly allowing the wild storm to grow stronger...

She doesn't know how long she sits in the snow upon the mountain, lost and confused. She knows her tears have long since stopped, but she still clung to the tiara in her bare hands. She has allowed both her cape to be carried away by the wind. She, however, was still unable to throw away the tiara. The quiet sound of a crunching snow alerts Elsa in an instant, drawing her gaze upward to gaze upon a man with semi-long brown hair and ocean blue eyes...

She stares at him, voice now caught in her throat. His body, she distantly noticed, went still as a statue, almost as if she caught him red-handed with only her very gaze. Any stealth attempts were foiled by the unnatural snowstorm, though she couldn't quite confirm if he was aiming for stealth. He looked vaguely familiar, but what did look very familiar is the sight of her purple cape in his grasp. He has a handsome face, but what caught her attention a lot more faster is the sheathed weapon at his hip. He looks very pale, no doubt struggling with the harsh winter in the middle of July. The inner depths of Elsa feel completely and utterly unraveled, but she is certain that she still appears as cold and unapproachable on the surface.

"Why are you here?" Elsa has found her voice, breaking the spell of silence with her now hardened voice. She remains on the ground, snowflakes kissing every inch of her body. Though she is tired, she still tracks every little move the man makes with her piercing gaze. She has no weapons on her person, not like him, but the cold air has only dropped until it was as cold as a winter night. There is no need for pleasantries or small talk on the mountain tonight, not when she is on the run.

"Who are you?"

[vintersang]

*   TAG DROP: Basics

❛   ✧  ┊ can you face what the river knows. ooc.

❛   ✧  ┊ and all was lost to the frozen heart. tagged.

❛   ✧  ┊ bringing destruction to the stage. delete.

❛   ✧  ┊ the cold never bothered me anyway. self promo.

❛   ✧  ┊ don't let them in; don't let them see. promo.

❛   ✧  ┊ where the north wind meets the sea. inbox.

❛   ✧  ┊ what do you think the stars wish for then. wishlist.

❛   ✧  ┊ she will sing to those who hear. audio.

❛   ✧  ┊ made of prophecies and ruins. drabble.

❛   ✧  ┊ strike for love and strike for fear. psa.

❛   ✧  ┊ has the dark in me finally come to light. ic.

❛   ✧  ┊ reaching from her gown of stars; gentle is her light. saved.

❛   ✧  ┊ destined to bloom for a single lovely night. artwork.

❛   ✧  ┊ cut through the heart; cold and clear. anon.

❛   ✧  ┊ what do you know about love. positivity.

❛   ✧  ┊ colder by the minute. queue.

❛   ✧  ┊ she captivated all left in her wake. answered.

❛   ✧  ┊ clever as the devil and twice as pretty. crack.

❛   ✧  ┊ is it dangerous to dream. dash games.

❛   ✧  ┊ the dream that you wish will come true. mun.

❛   ✧  ┊ the snow glows white on the mountain tonight. thread.

❛   ✧  ┊ have you ever seen the night in human form. my edits.

❛   ✧  ┊ turning pages of a book to find you. open.

❛   ✧  ┊ let me see who you are; come to me now. starter call.

❛   ✧  ┊ are you the one i've been looking for all of my life. verse info.

❛   ✧  ┊ the wind is howling like this swirling storm inside. references.

❛   ✧  ┊ the purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink. writing tips.

❛   ✧  ┊ born of cold and winter air. dash commentary.

❛   ✧  ┊ the one thing that can save me now is your love. resources.

[vintersang]

Elsa's excitement at seeing an animal in the castle walls overpowered every part of her mind, dulling her observant nature. It took her a couple of seconds for her to realize that, strangely enough, the cat was wearing something a human should be wearing... Not a cat. His hat, which reminded Elsa of something a brutish pirate would wear, did make him look really cuter... But she's never seen a cat wear such fine-looking boots!

He wore them as well as any man, but Elsa wondered who would dress their cat like a human. It sounded like a waste of time, even to her. Maybe even a waste of resources, though she still thinks the orange cat felt rather heroic in such an attire. Almost as if he jumped off the pages of a daring adventure book! Dressing an animal did seem like something Anna would do, but she doubted her little sister could readily obtain such items. She was too young, so no one would listen to her commands—

"You can talk!" Elsa exclaimed in surprise, unable to stop herself from gasping. She didn't know how to behave around talking animals. She was raised to believe talking animals were nothing but silly fantasies, though she also knew the dangerous magic she wielded is far from imaginary. She remembers the hidden folk, the stone-like trolls that helped her family after all the trouble she caused. They looked like unsuspecting rocks until they began to move. "Cats aren't supposed to talk!" She quickly drew her gloved hand away, stunned by this revelation.

"Are you... Are you a magical cat?"

@teamfricndship walked into the unknown.

A year has passed since the accident has occurred, according to her diary. She has religiously worn gloves at all times, including when she was in the sweltering heat of summer. She changed them up occasionally, but she always looked to her father for his approval on everything new. That, of course, included any new gloves to her growing collection. If she couldn’t find her father, then she would instantly go to her kindhearted mother. Her dear parents always knew what was best.

On this particular day, Elsa had visited one of the libraries in order to find a book on old fairytales. Her lessons were finished for the week since she already dutifully completed her work. As a treat, she thought she would visit the closest library in order to find something to keep herself busy. Anna never visited any of the libraries, so it was safe for her. Once she found the thickest book she could find, just how she likes it, is when she begun her quiet retreat back into her bedchamber. It will keep her nice and busy, no doubt entertained with each short story.

The sight of blurry flash of orange immediately made her drop the book in fright. A loud thud is heard as the book falls to the ground. The temperature immediately drops, bringing a chill on this otherwise ordinary summer day. Elsa, though she is indeed frightened, stands her ground against the….. feline intruder?

“A kitty!” Elsa’s fear and alarm is thrown out the window as an infectious smile blooms across her normally sullen face. With the book temporarily forgotten, she takes a couple of steps forward. Her gloved hand is outstretched, inviting the lost animal to pick up on her smell. She learned such a tip from her animal-loving mother. She is resisting the urge to scoop the grown cat into her arms, though her cheerful expression is still written across her face.

“Awww, you’re so cute!” The nine-year-old princess gushes, wished she could show her little sister… But it wasn’t possible. Not anymore, anyway. She had to stay away. “I wonder if Anna managed to sneak you inside— Where did you come from?”