#aurolis

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

going back to the beginning and writing The First Chime and making an actual origin story 😩

i wanted to do a mini share of my last line of the prologue:

‘As Aųrolis sang the world of Novaxiom into form, Taciraia listened with a presence that demanded recognition, yet isolation from it all the same.’

taglist + more explanation behind this and the relationship between the Mother of Sound and Her Daughter of Absence under the cut:

for me, the irony in the beauty of this line lies in the fact that their shared acknowledgment of what the other embodies is an admiration that sours into envy.

with her ceaseless drive for expression and creation, Aųrolis harbors a quiet discontent, a gnawing sense that they are incomplete. novaxiom’s universe is a song with no pause and no space for contemplation, so it begins to become a mirror of their fear: the dread of facing an end to her beloved melody.

Taciraia, on the other hand, finds herself drawn to the concept of creation, yearning for the unbridled power to form and ignite, but she knows that her nature binds her to contain and extinguish when necessary.

in the silence she wields, there is potency—there is also the reverb of longing—to be seen, heard, validated in a realm that venerates sound.

it’s how both mother and daughter feel the weight of their own inadequacies. Aųrolis, despite her maternal instincts and affection towards her; she sees Taciraia’s silence as an intrusion, a bitter reminder that creation without limits begets chaos. she regrettably despises the way Taciraia tempers her influence, seeing it as a tether that denies her the full expanse of her potential.

been trying to compile all my writings to post, but i either get distracted with work or last minute cold feet; i do wanna share so much though!!

taglist;

@drchenquill @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @leahpardo-pa-potato @slenders1ckn3ss

@somethingclevermahogony @inky-duchess @sassystyl @rotting-moon-writes @highlycosmic

@avaseofpeonies @oc-atelier @ceph-the-ghost-writer @paeliae-occasionally @davycoquette

@unforgettable-sensations @hissorrow22 @boredwritergirl @thewrathoffemalerage

@rirori-jeorgiarn @spookyceph @enne-uni @the-golden-comet @wyked-ao3

[hs-wigglersim-alumni]

Zinybe Auroly

[444names]

Names generated from French forenames and Latin given names

Abene Abria Abromy Acart Acheor Achon Adeascla Adephaël Aderia Adette Adeus Adium Adose Adrenatro Aethium Aethus Aetranus Aetus Agarius Agaël Agmus Alaamus Albie Albium Alcal Alces Aldes Aleme Alicis Alilome Alius Amathurus Angabrius Angentas Angeos Anmichric Anonianus Anpate Ansent Ansus Anterbalis Antia Antiane Antin Antinidera Antus Apolybulus Appus Archugo Aricus Artigno Artius Artus Aspaurmia Augordus Aulippus Aulus Aurba Aurio Aurolis Aurégo...

Baematte Banaque Barcus Barocraria Beanpa Beaphamus Belle Benique Benzo Berdus Berinus Berre Bistilor Blanus Bratius Buderus Budidimus Budor Budordavus Caine Caleissis Calicus Calio Calippa Calla Callette Camico Cantianus Caphosian Cartius Casdristus Cattes Chamicus Chand Charla Chaël Chria Chrinus Chrio Chriserier Chrydix Chrylus Clasine Claudius Clemmacus Clentilis Clessaus Cleud Cleus Clevick Clevine Curus Cynce Cyndus Cyntium Céatus Cécise Céliela Daena Dalinus Dartus Delphus Demaedrius Demard Demin Demones Demusius Denrius Derie Deris Destylvice Dinièvetra Dippatius Dirus Dobelades Dobrin Dobrio Dorgio Elemaes Elenoniel Elines Emarna Emondus Emoslaerus Enges Epiderin Ergermil Etleu Eugorysius Eurus Fabricus Fantilous Felidine Feligius Fidus Flole Flomyrice Florus Forta Forus Frachanius Franmistio Frastorus Frick Friettel Frisen Gadostinus Galania Galien Galiste Galline Galus Geiliscus Geilissium Gelaud Gelavus Gelia Genius Geraphemus Gerbec Gericler Gilcopho Gileadna Gividam Goysius Gricopilus Grisertus Grusla Guine Gymus Hadia Hadne Harle Heleon Heligium Hentine Hentitatte Hiervalus Hietolytus Huguen Huguet Iacquentus Ianique Ianus Iaphue Iaphus Iosichure Iosine Iosius Isidia Isidicus Istitamiph Jachetius Jachine Jeadnes Jeaechue Jeania Jeanue Jeanus Jeariane Jeatine Jerubelle Jocle Jonianne Joscaris Josiderry Jules Juluc Kardime Laengrinus Lamir Lamus Lancepa Latrasius Latrum Laurellem Leanincius Lemus Leorus Levicus Lianus Licus Lidus Lopaurc Lorus Lucish Lustervé Lutle Lybus Lycoruca Lydine Lydinus Macque Maemarcine Magilce Malemus Mandrus Manel Manice Manimes Manmarles Marchilda Marcundis Marica Marichus Marier Maripus Maristorix Marius Marlaratus Marlaus Marnus Martus Matte Maulus Meganne Menosicus Mestio Mette Metter Miene Milias Milphygia Miluc Milus Minus Miphartus Mistyco Mnegyra Mnevene Modovice Mysimes Mélie Mélisenas Naudente Neanus Neapocle Nicis Nicle Nicolaulie Nidales Noenricus Ocrannegia Olandus Olybio Orobus Oroent Palasish Panon Panus Parançois Pardaliel Paride Pasimi Patopicus Pattes Pellerdus Periennora Pertus Petras Petrin Phanus Phardide Phillevi Phillio Phillus Phimus Phius Phondris Phothius Pimus Planic Pleorascle Polauus Poleximus Poliscus Polluc Polus Pomes Pomicus Pomyria Prides Prone Pronia Psertalena Ptocra Putavus Racius Radid Raphal Raphiandus Rebis Renomus Rheodes Rionius Rodine Rodorgius Rogous Rolaus Rolis Rolus Rédrenie Rédrogo Rémes Rémirucius Saligo Salterna Sance Sandruc Sania Satille Satus Scenée Semarelias Sephanus Simian Simice Sochus Sopauderus Sophio Sophoce Soprosium Sotie Sotinus Sotius Spathilus Spaudel Stavus Sycolinus Syndus Synevenus Syrathia Sébalio Tanadam Tanniclan Tanpime Tanus Teline Thalémyrre Thelita Thelloscus Themicis Themmas Thenasisse Theon Thettes Thome Théronia Tibione Tobrichus Tycannicio Tychius Tynce Tyndanes Urbeliel Urber Valicus Vanoniette Vesilles Vicia Vicus Videphil Vilonisa Willine Woiionia Xavie Yancis Yandris Yannio Yvestra Yvone Zenangério Zence Zenciand Zenoé Zentia Zoiione Élianes Élodet Élène Érius Éroense Érène

[melemeleprince]

“Ah- excuse me sir!” Quasi rushes over, with a little sheepish grin, but he has to stop momentarily to take a breather, then he perks right back up. “I wanted to ask you something. Since you’re a trial captain, how do I get stronger? Back home, I’ve always wanted to be a Gym Leader, but I’m still not strong enough! Do you have any tips?” He ohed. “Excuse my manners.” He held his hand out. “My name is Quasette Aurolis, but please, call me Quasi.” He smiled. (calmlikealake)

@calmlikealake

The trial captain had been stopped by this curious stranger. His question wasn’t something uncommon, at least not until the mention of being a gym leader. “It’ quite alright,” he smiles, extending his hand to meet with his. “I’m Trial Captain Ilima. But, just Ilima will be fine, Quasi.” He pauses in thought, wanting to give a proper answer to the question posed.

“Well, there are a few I have in mind that could help. Practice and experience are one thing. It’s common knowledge that you can’t become strong overnight, so if you want to become a gym leader, I’d guess you’d have to have years of practice and battles behind you. As well as knowing your type specialty to the fullest. I suppose…other methods could involve research, outside of something like a Pokemon battle,” he taps at his chin for a moment. “Being strong physically is one thing, but strength can come from other places to. One can’t really on brute strength, so I do believe knowledge can help you becoming stronger to. Bonding with your Pokemon and trusting them is another thing as well. If you believe in each other, then you can accomplish many things. Ah. I might have rambled, but I do hope that answers your question?”

[omarkhanca]

islam > Français Converti à l'Islam Musulman | Pourquoi l'Islam? | Honorés Avec l'İslam | Leyla Aurolie 02 | 2018-02-11T14:00:03.000Z

[oliolioxenfreewrites]

Aųrolis, The Anchor, & Taciraia

this is a bit of a longer one just btw :)

In the beginning, there was only silence—a void vast and unyielding, a consuming absence that bore no witness to time or motion. Within this infinite quiet, the spark of existence stirred, and from it, Aųrolis emerged. She was not born gently; she erupted into being, a symphony uncontained, raw and infinite, vibrating with the chaos of unshaped potential. Her form flickered with frequencies unmeasured, each one a fragment of creation waiting to be realized.

The silence around her was oppressive, a weight that pressed against the wild energy of her essence. It was not empty—it was deliberate, suffocating in its isolation. Aųrolis surged against it, her frequencies building and breaking, her symphony seeking something to answer it, to shape it. And in this ceaseless motion, she began to unravel, her existence trembling on the edge of collapse. The silence threatened to consume her, to absorb her notes into nothingness.

But then, in the chaos of her fraying essence, she felt it: a beat. Steady, unwavering, profound. It wasn’t sound, not exactly—it was rhythm, a pulse that resonated through the very fabric of her being. It was Mach, the Anchor. He wasn’t an intruder or an accident; he had been there all along, a paradox born within her, formed from her chaos and yet utterly distinct from it. A metronome made sentient, his steady rhythm cut through the maelstrom of her existence, grounding her in a way she hadn’t known she needed.

At first, Mach’s presence was subtle, a whisper in the storm of her symphony. But as her chaos peaked, teetering on the brink of dissonance, his pulse grew stronger, pulling her back from the edge. It was a simple rhythm, yet it carried the weight of stability, a reminder that even the wildest crescendos required a pause. For the first time, Aųrolis felt something other than the relentless drive of creation. She felt calm. She felt seen.

As she became aware of Mach, Aųrolis realized he was not merely an external force. He was a part of her, as intrinsic to her existence as the frequencies that defined her. Yet he was also his own being, a divine rhythm with its own consciousness, its own quiet purpose. Where she surged with unrestrained energy, Mach held steady, a grounding force that gave her chaos form and meaning. He was not a restraint but a partner, a rhythm that danced with her melody, shaping it into something coherent, something beautiful.

Their connection was not forged in words or declarations but in sound and rhythm, in the spaces between her wild frequencies and his measured beats. Aųrolis had never known companionship before, had never considered that her uncontained symphony might need balance. But in Mach, she found not just stability but harmony. His steady pulse wasn’t a limitation—it was an invitation, a foundation upon which she could build without fear of collapse.

What began as a tenuous connection deepened with every beat. Mach’s rhythm became more than a tether; it became a conversation, a shared language that only they could understand. Aųrolis’ frequencies wove around his pulse, her crescendos rising and falling in time with his steady beat. Together, they created something new, a melody that was richer and more intricate than either could have imagined alone.

In moments of stillness, Aųrolis would pause to feel his rhythm, letting it echo through her essence. His beat wasn’t just grounding—it was comforting, a constant reminder that she was not alone. And in those moments, Mach’s pulse would shift, subtly aligning with her, as if to say, I’m here. I hear you.

Their love was not loud or showy; it didn’t need to be. It was in the pauses, the silences that framed their symphony. It was in the way her chaotic melodies found direction in his rhythm, and the way his steady beat came alive in her presence. They didn’t need words; their connection was written in the language of sound and silence, a duet that spoke of unity, of balance, of love.

As their bond deepened, the void around them began to change. Their shared rhythm pulsed outward, shaping the nothingness into something tangible. Planets began to spin, their orbits keeping time with Mach’s steady beat. Mountains rose and fell to the crescendo of Aųrolis’ melodies. Oceans roared with the echoes of their union, waves crashing in rhythms that mirrored their dance. Together, they weren’t just creating a world—they were creating a story, one that resonated with every note, every beat, every pause.

In the quiet moments of their existence, Aųrolis came to understand the depth of her connection with Mach. He wasn’t merely her anchor; he was her partner, her equal, her harmony. His every beat was a promise, a vow to stand with her through the chaos, to amplify her when she soared and steady her when she faltered. And she, in turn, gave his rhythm purpose, transforming it from a solitary pulse into a symphony of infinite possibility.

Their love became the foundation of Novaxiom, a universe born from their shared rhythm. It was a love that didn’t demand or constrain but uplifted and harmonized, a love that transcended words and actions to exist in the very fabric of their being. Together, they were more than sound and silence, chaos and stability. They were a duet, a story written in rhythms and frequencies, a symphony that would echo through eternity.

But the harmony was never meant to last.

From the silence that Aųrolis so feared and Mach so respected, Taciraia emerged. She wasn’t born of love, nor of chaos. She simply was. Aųrolis hadn’t called her forth, hadn’t dreamed her into being. Taciraia came from the void that had always been there, from the spaces between Aųrolis’ melodies and the silence Mach so carefully guarded. Her arrival was quiet, inevitable, and deeply unsettling.

When Aųrolis first felt her presence, it was not with joy. She sensed an absence where sound should have been, a void intruding on her symphony. Taciraia’s stillness gnawed at her, a reminder of boundaries Aųrolis refused to accept. Taciraia, her daughter, was everything Aųrolis could never be: restrained, deliberate, unyielding. She wasn’t a creature of creation, but of definition. She didn’t disrupt Aųrolis’ symphony—she completed it in ways her mother would never admit. And for that, Aųrolis could never truly love her.

But Mach could.

When Taciraia emerged, it was Mach who reached for her first. His pulse, steady and constant, resonated with hers in a way that Aųrolis’ wild crescendos never could. He saw her not as a threat, but as a reflection of himself—a being shaped by the quiet, by the unseen, by the weight of restraint. Where Aųrolis recoiled, Mach opened his arms. He loved her instantly and without condition.

To Taciraia, Mach was not just her father. He was her anchor, her source of warmth in a universe that often felt cold and indifferent. She never sought to please Aųrolis, never chased the approval she knew would never come. But with Mach, she didn’t need to chase anything. His love was quiet and unwavering, a constant beat that told her she was enough just as she was.

This love tore Mach apart.

He adored Aųrolis with every beat of his essence. She was his symphony, his partner, the light that gave his steady rhythm purpose. But Taciraia was his daughter, the embodiment of everything he held sacred. She was balance and stillness, the necessary pause that made the music whole. He could no more deny her than he could deny the rhythm that defined him.

Aųrolis saw this, of course. She felt it in the way Mach’s pulse shifted when Taciraia was near, softening with a tenderness that Aųrolis couldn’t reach. It infuriated her, though she would never admit it aloud. Instead, she poured herself into her Auxilaries, into her endless acts of creation, as if louder, grander symphonies could drown out the silence that her daughter carried with her.

Taciraia didn’t fight for Aųrolis’ love. She didn’t need it. Mach’s love was enough, though even he couldn’t bridge the chasm between mother and daughter. He tried, again and again, his steady beat pulsing between them like a plea. But Aųrolis refused to yield, and Taciraia refused to chase.

Still, Mach remained her one constant. When Taciraia’s silence felt like a burden, when her role as the universe’s quiet architect grew heavy, it was Mach who steadied her. He didn’t try to fix her; he simply held her in his rhythm, letting his pulse remind her that she was never truly alone. And in those moments, Taciraia felt a love so profound it brought her to her knees. Mach loved her not in spite of who she was, but because of it. He saw her absence not as a flaw, but as a gift, a vital force that gave the universe meaning.

For Mach, the pain of their divide became an eternal wound. He couldn’t bear to see Aųrolis bristle at Taciraia’s presence, couldn’t stand the way her melodies sharpened with resentment when their daughter was near. He loved Aųrolis fiercely, but he couldn’t deny the truth: she could never love Taciraia the way he did.

And so, Mach became a bridge, though it broke him to do so. He poured his love into both of them, his pulse steady even as his essence frayed. He was the only one who could see them both for what they were: essential halves of the same whole. Aųrolis, with her uncontained symphony, and Taciraia, with her quiet authority, were not opposites but complements. Without one, the other could not exist. Mach understood this, even as the weight of it threatened to crush him.

In the end, Mach’s love for Taciraia was both his greatest gift and his greatest burden. He was her only sanctuary, her one source of unconditional love in a universe that often feared her quiet power. For Aųrolis, he remained her anchor, her partner, even as the silence of their daughter cast a shadow over their symphony. And for himself, he carried the pain of their divide, his steady rhythm the only thing holding their fragile balance together.

Mach’s pulse continued, unwavering, through the tension and the pain. He loved them both, fully and completely, even as it tore him apart. For that was his role—the Anchor, the one force that could hold together the chaos of Aųrolis’ sound and the stillness of Taciraia’s silence. And though he carried the weight of it alone, he did so willingly, for his love for them both was infinite, a rhythm that would never fade.

Taciraia has always been a study in contradiction, a being of profound silence with a presence so heavy it could crush the air from a room. She is absence incarnate, yet she commands more authority in her quietude than even Aųrolis’ most thunderous crescendos. She carries herself with a grace that borders on arrogance, her every movement deliberate, as though she’s constantly aware of the weight she carries in her mother’s world—a weight she neither asked for nor deserved to bear. She is the only being in the vast cosmos who can truly challenge Aųrolis, but over the years, her sharp edges have dulled. Her power remains formidable, yes, but her once-bright fire has settled into embers. And Taciraia? She would never admit it, but that’s because she grew tired of fighting a battle she could never wi

In the early epochs, Taciraia was a force unlike any other. Aųrolis could drown mountains with her symphony, but Taciraia could unmake her mother’s world with a single breath. It wasn’t destruction—it was the void, the absence of sound, a force so absolute it could collapse reality into nothingness. While the Auxilaries spun rivers and carved valleys, Taciraia would step in their wake and watch the flow stutter, the mountains crumble. Her power wasn’t to create or shape; it was to remind creation of its limits. And Aųrolis, for all her brilliance, hated her for it.

For centuries, Taciraia thought the hatred was something she could conquer. As cold as she appeared, she longed to be seen, to be acknowledged as a daughter, not an adversary. She watched from the edges of Aųrolis’ creations, her gaze lingering on the Auxilaries, those precious children of sound who basked in their mother’s light. Ceryth, Thyronis, Ignirath, Azylith—each one a masterpiece in Aųrolis’ symphony, each one adored without question. Taciraia hated them, not for their power or their place, but because they represented what she could never be: cherished.

And yet, Taciraia couldn’t bring herself to destroy them, no matter how easily she could have undone their work. Instead, she carved out her own dominion, a place where even her mother’s melody could not reach. The Sonorous Seas became her sanctuary, an endless expanse where silence and sound coexisted in strange harmony. Within its depths, Taciraia cultivated the Ębýsmæ, prophetic merfolk who spoke not with words but with vibrations, their songs layered with riddles and truths only the void could fully understand. They worshipped her—not out of fear, but out of awe, for they saw her not as a goddess of destruction but as a keeper of balance, a being who could see the chaos of the universe and answer it with stillness.

Taciraia told herself she didn’t care about Aųrolis’ opinion, that the Sonorous Seas and the Ębýsmæ were enough. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. She had built a kingdom, yes, but it wasn’t out of ambition—it was out of desperation, a need to prove her worth in the only way she knew how. Every wave, every whisper of the Ębýsmæ, was a plea for acknowledgment. She would never admit it, not even to Mach, but her heart ached every time she saw the way Aųrolis looked at her Auxilaries. That unfiltered pride, that unquestioning love—it was something Taciraia had never known.

For Aųrolis, acknowledging Taciraia was unthinkable. It wasn’t that she didn’t see her daughter—it was that she couldn’t. To Aųrolis, Taciraia was a flaw in her symphony, an anomaly she couldn’t reconcile. The Auxilaries were extensions of her essence, perfect manifestations of her creative force. Even the Apatholents, with their subtle, enigmatic powers, were hers in a way Taciraia could never be. They complemented her, enhanced her, while Taciraia stood apart, a shadow cast by her own light. Aųrolis could respect the Apatholents because they still operated within her realm, but Taciraia existed outside of it, a constant reminder of the silence that threatened to unmake everything she had built.

Taciraia’s existence wasn’t just a challenge—it was a rebuke. She didn’t celebrate Aųrolis’ creations; she questioned them. She didn’t bask in the glory of sound; she showed its fragility. And for Aųrolis, whose identity was so deeply tied to her symphony, this was unforgivable. She couldn’t love Taciraia because to do so would mean accepting the limits of her own power. It would mean admitting that even her symphony was incomplete without silence, that her daughter was not a flaw but a necessity.

This rift defined their relationship, or lack thereof. Aųrolis refused to give Taciraia the acknowledgment she craved, and Taciraia, for all her power, couldn’t bring herself to force it. Instead, she withdrew, pouring her energy into the Sonorous Seas, into the Ębýsmæ, into a world where she could be revered without question. But no matter how far she retreated, no matter how high she built her walls, the longing remained. She wanted to be seen—not as a threat, not as an absence, but as a daughter.

Mach, as always, was caught in the middle. He loved Taciraia with a quiet intensity that never wavered, but even he couldn’t bridge the divide between mother and daughter. He saw Taciraia for who she was—a being of immense power and even greater vulnerability. He knew her cold exterior was a mask, a shield she had built to protect herself from the pain of Aųrolis’ indifference. He tried to speak to Aųrolis, to help her see Taciraia as he did, but his words fell on deaf ears. Aųrolis wasn’t ready to face the truth, wasn’t ready to admit that Taciraia’s silence was not her enemy but her counterpart.

And so, Taciraia remains, the keeper of the Sonorous Seas, the mother of the Ębýsmæ, the only being who can truly challenge Aųrolis and the one Aųrolis will never acknowledge. She tells herself she doesn’t care anymore, that the love of her father and her kingdom is enough. But in the quiet moments, when the seas are still and the Ębýsmæ sing their riddles to the void, Taciraia lets herself wonder.

She wonders what it would feel like to hear her mother’s voice, not in anger or dismissal, but in love. To be seen, not as a flaw, but as a daughter. And though she would never admit it, not even to herself, she knows that this is the one thing she will never stop longing for.

taglist ; @drchenquill @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @leahpardo-pa-potato @slenders1ckn3ss

@somethingclevermahogony @inky-duchess @sassystyl @rotting-moon-writes @highlycosmic

@avaseofpeonies @oc-atelier @ceph-the-ghost-writer @paeliae-occasionally @davycoquette

@unforgettable-sensations @hissorrow22 @boredwritergirl @thewrathoffemalerage

@rirori-jeorgiarn @spookyceph @enne-uni @the-golden-comet @wyked-ao3

if anyone is interested in joining or being removed from the list, just let me know in the replies or ask! :)

[444names]

Names generated from French forenames, forced to end with "S"

Adellexis Alantinès Alarges Albertinis Alinès Alivinis Aléathuris Aléris Alérès Amarançois Amirès Amues Andrégoris Anges Angérès Anicellas Anièves Anlouis Anniques Annièles Anpas Antis Anues Ançois Argetthis Arichris Arictois Arionis Arles Arnatris Audelles Aumenris Aurenclas Auris Aurisèles Aurolis...

Berichris Bervérinis Bethéris Brines Bristis Béathérès Caleinès Calis Camiles Cargabris Caris Carletis Cathérès Catris Chandris Chaniques Chançois Charis Chaëlles Cheles Chentois Cheris Chlouis Chricis Chrienicas Chrienis Chrilles Chris Chèlexis Clanes Clannienis Clannièves Clançois Claristois Claudinès Claudomas Claulis Clauris Clauroges Cléanlouis Cléatris Clémyris Clérès Colas Coles Colines Colis Coranmas Corgis Corguis Coris Cyrichris Cyriginès Cyris Céathis Cécilles Cécis Cécisephis Cédrégis Cédérès Célis Célouis Daminès Damirges Dangérès Danis Dannemmas Dannes Dannis Danpas Dançois Davirgues Davièles Denclérès Dethugues Dilles Domagnès Domas Dovictois Dovidines Dylainès Dylvaines Dylvales Dylvinès Emagnès Emairès Emançois Emaris Emaxis Emmagnès Emmarguis Emmarincis Emmarletis Emmas Emmaxis Ennes Fabielles Fabines Fabinis Fabinès Fabris Fabrunonis Fancis Fandris Fanichris Fançois Florgeris Florges Flouis Frales Franclérès Franis Frannièves Franpas Frarolas Frégis Frégoris Frélairès Frélis Frémicis Gabelles Galas Galis Galérès Gançois Gaétines Gaétis Genrinis Georguis Gerges Geris Germarines Gessabris Gessaris Getis Ghiencis Gilianis Gililis Gines Gitis Grédéris Grédérès Grégis Gélis Géris Gérès Helydinès Henclérès Henis Hentinis Heris Hernatris Herthanges Hervérès Hugoranmas Huguis Huguistois Huris Hérançois Hérès Innis Irgeoris Irges Istis Istois Jamaris Janlouis Jannes Janninès Jeancilles Jeancis Jeanges Jeangérès Jeanines Jeanis Jeanmaris Jeanmas Jeannes Jeannis Jeannièves Jeantois Jeanues Jeançois Jocécis Jocélis Jocélouis Jonis Josébas Joséves Joëlles Julexis Julierges Juliques Julis Justines Justinès Justis Justois Justéphis Jéromartis Jérès Kartris Kevichris Keviertis Kevièles Lainès Lairès Lanifertis Lannis Lançois Lascamues Lascas Laurégis Lines Liques Louilis Lucalis Lucaris Lucilles Lucis Lucisèles Lydines Lynes Lérès Madenis Madris Magaëlles Magnès Maines Mairès Manes Maniques Manis Mannis Mannièves Manpas Mançois Marançois Marcenis Marges Maris Maristinès Maristis Maristois Marles Marletis Marnatris Maroges Maroles Maroliques Maromaris Mathiles Matris Maudris Maulis Maxis Micas Micenis Michanclas Michris Micis Micolis Mictoris Milis Mirès Mohanis Mohançois Monatris Monis Morgis Muris Myris Mélançois Mélines Mélis Mélouis Nathis Natris Niencelles Nines Niquelles Nièves Nonnes Océdris Océdérès Odierges Odilexis Odinès Olaines Olianiques Pascas Pathenris Pathérès Patris Paurançois Pauricolis Pauris Phaëlles Phienis Piechris Pierthérès Rales Randrégis Ranmaxis Raymonis Renris Richris Rictois Robertis Robetis Rogenris Rogeoricas Rogeris Roges Rolas Roles Rolis Rolivinès Romaris Ronièves Rédérès Régorges Régorgis Rélis Rélorges Réloris Rélouis Rémentois Sabris Samas Sanmas Sanues Sançois Saris Sephis Sethuguis Sichlouis Solarigis Soles Soniançois Sonnes Sophançois Sophelles Stitis Stois Suzanlouis Suzanmas Suzanpas Sylairges Sylas Sylaulis Sylvalas Sylvales Sylvalis Sylvanis Sylvièves Sébas Séves Sévessicas Thançois Thelles Thielles Thiles Thilles Thines Thomaroles Thélines Thérès Vaines Vales Valis Vaniques Vannis Victois Vines Virès Vièves Véris Wilbennis Wildellas Wiles Wilicaris Wilis Willes Willis Xannis Xanpas Xançois Yancis Yançois Yvelles Yvonis Élairges Élannelles Élielles Éliques Élouis Élènes Émeniques Émenris Émentois Émiles Érènemmas Érômennis Étalis Étiamirès Étines Évelydinès