#con wyla.

[vanneliese]

୨♡୧ wyla invita a anneliese a un café.

' cuéntame... ' ahora que les han tomado el pedido puede hablar con comodidad con la otra blonda, sin preocuparse por interrupciones próximas. ' ¿ya tienes planes para san valentín? ' / @wylcc

[vanneliese]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ sonrisa también se marca en sus pétalos, más que nada por la emoción mostrada por la otra blonda. ' te acepto la comida pero paso con las margaritas. ' ya ha bebido más que suficiente este mes, no debería aceptar más alcohol por ahora. ' ¡podemos tomar batidos! vi que pueden hacerlos de lo que se te antoje siempre y cuando tengan los ingredientes. ¿no se te antoja uno? ' / @wylcc

respuesta le arranca una sonrisa. ‘ ¿y alejarme de mi ángel guardian? claro que no ’ y aunque hay cierto tonito de gracia en sus vocablos, rubia emana una imagen que encaja perfectamente como angelical. ‘ ¡debemos oficializar esta noche de chicas! con dos margaritas y… ’ ríe bajito cuando se exaltó y personas alrededor vocearon por silencio. ‘ mucha comida. ¿qué dices? ’ vuelve a susurrar.

[sowhatt]

' ¡por fin! ' suspiro de felicidad es largado con una amplia sonrisa, tirándose de lleno en el lugar que, claramente, no revisó dos veces. ¿podían culparla? aquella fiesta universitaria parecía querer cumplir con todas las ilegalidades y, por supuesto, que la iluminación brillaba por su ausencia. ' agh, ¿por qué los sillones son tan duros aquí? ' queja es lanzada al aire con un pequeño ceño fruncido, alcohol en sangre inhibiendo la lucidez que necesitaba para ese momento. * @badmiraclezz

[pygian-weapon]

we should make a bracket of yaoi that martin wrote intentionally (Ser Loras and Renly, Jon Con whole shtick, that kinda love interest Dunk had in one of the tales...) vs Unintentional Yaoi that somehow makes so much sense (Stannis and Davos as the big guns obvs, but also I just got my third eye open at Oberyn/Wylas epistolary romance potential)

[aureliahillshqs]

todos conocen a WYLA CAMPBELL, pero su reputación está por descubrirse.

sofi, ¡bienvenide a @aureliahillshqs! nos encanta tenerte con nosotres. a partir de ahora contás con 24 hs para enviarnos la cuenta, en caso de necesitar más tiempo, ¡no dudes en solicitarlo! pst! también queremos contarte que si todavía no rellenaste este form, nos serviría mucho que lo hicieras. ¡gracias!

nombre/alias: sofi

¿tenés más de 21 años? : sí

zona horaria o país: argentina

nivel de actividad estimado: 7

triggers: abuso sexual

¿aceptás que tu personaje se vea involucrado en las intervenciones realizadas por la administración del grupal? : sí

¿algo que agregar?: nada bbs<3

in character:

nombre: wyla campbell

faceclaim: madelyn cline

cupo: 69

edad y fecha de nacimiento: veinticinco, nació el 20 de febrero de 1998.

descripción física: tiene algunos tatuajes pequeños que simbolizan su impulsividad. también tiene perforaciones en las orejas y en el ombligo, siendo detallista en cómo combina los múltiples pendientes dependiendo el outfit (y su humor). el mismo también suele verse reflejado en su elección de colores en sus vestimentas sin temerle a ninguno.

descripción psicológica: ( mínimo seis ítems o párrafo, a elección) :

( + ) divertida, espontánea, sincera.

( - ) irresponsable, ingenua, celosa.

historia o datos curiosos:

- pocas eran las miradas esperanzadoras que recibía al hablar de su futuro. quizá por su mente soñadora y su sonrisa amplia de oreja a oreja cuando decididamente respondía que quería ser famosa. aquella era la wyla de diez años y a lo largo mantuvo el discurso. todavía no lo habia logró, sin embargo, para ella sus miles de seguidores en tiktok la llevarían lejos.

- ni bien la secundaria terminó a su fin, wyla paseó por algunas carreras universitarias con el cuento de vivir la experiencia universitaria. ella siempre quiere vivir toda experiencia posible. por supuesto, de fiestas y alcohol no se vivía allí. reticente a malgastar tiempo de vida en leer libros de alguna carrera que jamás ejercería, se marchó por el mundo. en algunas ciudades trabajando de camarera, en otras de bartender y en alguna que otra de niñera. jamás se sabia con que nueva anécdota podía aparecer wyla al otro lado del teléfono. más aún cuando decidió que quería hacer un retiro espiritual e inclinarse al camino del budismo. al otro mes su vida se declinaba por algo totalmente opuesto.

- actualmente sueña con tener su marca de maquillaje y se encuentra trabajando en ello. nadie cree en que aquello tenga un éxito asegurado, pero no le importa.

- su mano derecha es una de sus aventuras que la conquistó plantandole ideas de cómo conquistarían el mundo con la marca. ingenuidad no le permite ver que la está estafando. otro defecto de la fémina es no desconfiar de nadie.

- su tiktok suele ser sobre recomendaciones de lugares de comida y mini vlogs. sus seguidores adoran el carisma y la espontaneidad que emana en cada pequeño relato.

[ewanoi]

desvía toda su atención a la joven que parece estarse dirigiendo a él, dejando de lado cualquier otra distracción para no verse grosero ni mucho menos. "oh" asiente con su cabeza varias veces. "ok, lo tendré muy en cuenta– no pedir un manhattan y no casarme ni embarcarme un martes trece" repite esbozando una sonrisa. "gracias, seguro me será muy útil un día de estos" concede dejando salir una risita.

' puaj. ¿acabo de desperdiciar uno de mis tragos en esto? ' pregunta que no tiene más respuesta que un lamento es lanzada al aire como un reproche. ' ¿quieres el consejo de una desconocida? ' probablemente no. de todas maneras, lanza palabras a la persona más cercana. ' no pidas un manhattan. ¡oh! y no te cases ni embarques un martes trece ' bromea brevemente, retomando su tarea de beber con muecas de por medio aquello que tanto le disgustó. no pensaba desperdiciar ningún trago.

[ampleappleamble]

—

Stubborn and haughty, it read. Dismissive of the soul sciences, as befitting his Aedyre heritage. Very rude and difficult to work with.

"Unbelievable," Aloth spat.

Upon leaving the sanitarium, the group had jointly decided that perhaps their trip to the expedition den could wait until the following day. However, there were still a few loose ends around town to tie up, and a few more hours of daylight in which to do it. Nevertheless– and despite his objections– Axa insisted that Aloth stay behind and rest at the inn, give his nerves a brief respite after all he'd been through that day while the rest of the party tended to business. And so now he sat in his room at the Charred Barrel, alone with his thoughts.

And with Bellasege's research notes.

How relaxing, he thought, glaring hatefully at the little stack of papers.

Most of the document was utterly unintelligible to Aloth, consisting of either overly technical animancy jargon or Vailian hen scratch, but what little she'd bothered to scribble down in Aedyran only asserted what he already knew– that this woman was a charlatan, a sensationalist hack more interested in reinforcing her own harebrained assumptions than in helping anyone. Least of all him, considering she evidently knew exactly what his fellow Aedyrans thought about animancy and the Awakened and yet she still intended to publish his full name and home province along with her ludicrous excuse of a diagnosis. All she was after, as he suspected most animancers were, was fortune and glory, and his reputation was apparently a sacrifice she was willing to make in the pursuit of that goal.

He had known since the instant the woman had started transcribing his very personal, very private memories that her notes would somehow have to find their way into his hands, so as soon as he'd seen his chance, he'd taken it– and as soon as he'd secured the notes and slipped them into his cloak, he'd seen Axa watching him. Not expecting to be caught in the act, he'd frozen in horror, silently pleading with the little woman to turn a blind eye– and he'd been pleasantly surprised when she'd done exactly that, glancing furtively at Bellasege and then back at him before turning her back on them both and heading for the door, the barest hint of disapproval in her eyes.

Part of him couldn't help but think that that was why she'd left him here by himself– because she was disappointed with him for betraying Bellasege's trust like that, promising her her long-sought prize only to rip it away immediately afterwards, and right under her nose to boot. But he reminded himself that Axa wasn't the kind of woman to practice punitive shunning like that, and if she'd had a problem with what he'd done, she'd have discussed it with him, probably even called him out right there in the animancer's office. After all, she had to know that it had been her who had truly helped him, not Bellasege. So what would she care if that fraud no longer had anything to show for her so-called efforts?

"'Be ever honest, forthright, and true'– fye, yer a fine auld piece o' work, laddie."

Iselmyr had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since her outburst in the sanitarium, her appetite for bickering seemingly sated until now, and Aloth jumped at her sudden resurgence in his mind. "Maybe you'd be perfectly fine with word of our condition becoming common knowledge back home," he retorted, recovering quickly, "but I would rather keep our private matters private. Besides, I didn't hear you objecting at the time."

He was expecting more of her usual sharp-tongued impudence, but was surprised when Iselmyr only scoffed softly in his mind instead. "Naught t' object tae. Fer once."

Iselmyr not sassing him was one thing, but Iselmyr actually agreeing with him was quite another. Stunned into silence, Aloth could only blink stupidly as Axa's words back at the sanitarium popped into his head– "Try it her way, let her in"– when there was a knock at the door, and, grateful for the interruption, he bid his visitor enter.

Axa stepped in slowly, carefully, only cracking the door just enough to allow her inside before shutting it behind her. "Hey," she smiled, rubbing at a fresh bruise on her forearm as she crossed the room. "Just got back. The others are downstairs having a late dinner. How're you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied breezily, shifting position to face her, frowning as he gestured to her wound. "Looks like you had an eventful evening despite my absence. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing serious," she sighed. "Helped an old man find and free the soul of his long-dead lover from a necromancer... gave an orlan who'd found himself on the wrong side of the law a second chance at life... exorcised a lighthouse by striking a deal with some pirates... The usual, you know." She grinned up at him briefly before thrusting her chin at the sheaf of paper in his hands, clearing her throat. "Still figuring out what you're gonna do with those, are you?"

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm going to do with them," he sneered, twisting the notes into a tight little tube in his hands. "I was just looking though them first for any information that might actually be useful to me. I'm sure it'll surprise you to learn I found nothing." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "She didn't even get the color of my hair correct. You wouldn't happen to need a light for your pipe, would you?"

Axa laughed and declined politely, and so Aloth narrowed his eyes at the animancer's notes, gesturing with his free hand and whispering a few arcane power words, and in a few seconds the papers were ablaze, quickly crumbling into ash on the floor. Another gesticulation, a few more muttered words, and seconds later even the blackened remains were swept away into the aether, leaving nothing behind but a gray smudge on the rug.

"Well, that's that then." Axa sighed, shaking her head as she stared at the smokey spot. "Shame you two couldn't have helped each other more."

He looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. "More? She didn't help me at all. She pointed some contraption at me, humiliated me with prying questions, and when she couldn't even be bothered to put together her own conclusions, she relied on you to fill in the gaps. If anything, my destroying her ridiculous notes is evening the score."

"I know you've not much love for animancers, Aloth, but Bellasege really was trying. Whether it was to help you learn about yourself or to further her own knowledge of the soul sciences, I can't rightly say, but still." The orlan planted her fists on her hips, regarding him cautiously. "Personally, I think she was in over her head a bit. But how can we expect animancers to improve any or to advance the craft as a whole if we don't cooperate with them every now and again?"

"That would be fair enough if their methods were ever anything approaching sound," he retorted. "But you heard her. Black bile? My spleen? Drivel. Quackery. And publishing my identifying information like that is entirely irresponsible. What if someone from home were to see it? I'd be ruined." Color had crept into his face as he'd spoken, and he paused a moment to collect himself, but only succeeded in winding himself up further. "The only reason we figured out anything about my condition from that farce in her office is because you and I have half decent educations and a modicum of common sense between us. Imagine your average kith– Hel, your average Dyrwoodan going to a woman like Bellasege for a consultation. Big words and shiny gadgets are all most people need to believe just about anything a con artist like her can conjure up."

The little woman raised her eyebrow at him. "You do bring up some good points, I'll grant you that. Question is, what's to be done about it? As it is now, the only authority anyone seems to want to exert over the practice is to either let animancers– or anyone who calls themselves animancers– go totally unchecked, or to ban animancy completely. Is there to be no middle ground?"

"It's not our political leaders' jobs to understand animancy's deepest nuances so they can legislate it 'fairly'," he sighed, gently massaging his temple. "They've enough to contend with without having to study an experimental new branch of science, particularly in the Dyrwood."

"Then why not make animancers the ones who decide? Or, at least, give them the chance to advise those who do the deciding." Axa's eyes brightened as she argued, reminding Aloth uncomfortably of Kana. "A council of well-respected animancers, perhaps, selected from among those most trusted and revered in their fields."

Aloth's lip drew back in a grimace. "Let animancers legislate themselves? That's a recipe for disaster if ever I heard one."

She shrugged. "Just tossing out ideas. We'd all probably fare better that way than we do in the chaos we have now."

"I don't see how, but... seeing as it's coming from you, the idea might be worth considering." The words were out of his mouth before he really realized what he was saying, and he jolted slightly to hear himself say them.

She laughed. "Don't go around pinning all your trust on any one person or institution completely, Aloth. Not even me. You'll regret it, trust me."

He smiled at his feet, cheeks and ears growing warm. "As you say, Lady Mala. What's on the schedule for tomorrow, then? I'd join you and the others and discuss the matter over dinner, but if I'm being honest, I'm having a rather difficult time working up an appetite for yet more overboiled stew and watered wine."

Her demeanor changed in an instant, her casual slouch straightening, her face abruptly flipping from relaxed to sober. "Wyla, the justiciar from Crucible Keep that we talked to this morning, caught us on our way back here," she stated gravely. "Heritage Hill will be open to us tomorrow morning."

Aloth froze. "Heritage Hill," he repeated softly. "Did she... have anything to say about the conditions beyond the gates?"

She shook her head again, a haunted look drifting into her eyes. "Apparently, it's bedlam in there," she murmured. "Patrols go in, but they don't come out. The dead walk the streets."

"And the Leaden Key has something to do with it all," he finished for her.

"They do. They must. And we're going to find out what. Together," she answered, determination hardening her voice. She gave him a feisty grin, then, lifted her eyes to meet his, and the intensity of her gaze made him avert his. "So you'd better get some rest, then, if you're not going to eat."

He chuckled amicably. "As long as we don't get anymore unexpected midnight visitors, I'm sure I'll be well rested come morning."

She scoffed and swatted him lightly on the knee. "Well! I'll just bind my feet before turning in for the night, shall I?"

They laughed together for a moment, then, and Aloth felt something inside him finally loosening up and spreading throughout him, like an enormous flower made of light and air blooming in his chest. It made him feel warm and giddy and free in a way he never really had before, and the feeling persisted even after Axa had spun on her heel and sauntered across the room, smiling at him one last time before disappearing into the hallway beyond, pulling the door shut behind her. He didn't know exactly what it meant– he'd never felt it before, so how could he?– but he had his suspicions, none of which he was really prepared to get into tonight. So instead he got ready for bed, smile still stuck to his warm face as he changed into his nightclothes, washed his face, brushed his hair.

Was ye e'er plannin' on tellin' her it was yerself whit let her intae yer room last night? He could practically hear the cheeky little grin in Iselmyr's voice.

"No," he sighed, "because it was you who did that, not I. And you know it." He was still smiling. He couldn't seem to stop.

Fye, lad, whit diff'rence dae it make?

"All the difference in the world," he answered, and with a flick of his wrist, all the lights in the room simultaneously snuffed out.

—

[dak-legacy]

Tyra’Xiachayl - The Cursed Red Dragon

12

Lady Tyra’Xiachayl.  Child of Ashzu, Red Dragon, and Mistress of Flame.

This was once how Tyra would embellish herself.  A proud and fierce creature, she invoked terror into the hearts of those who angered her, and commanded respect from those fearful of her.  

History

Tyra, and her sister Maya, were born in the isolated Underdark city of Ashzu.  Her family held sway in the court of the city’s ruler, The Greatwyrm Wymar, though not very much.  They were a wealthy noble family of lesser birth.  This didn’t stop Tyra from enjoying the privileges granted to her by her position.  She was the very definition of a spoiled brat.  The only thing bigger than Tyra’s ego was her fear of the surface, and the humanoids who inhabited it.

From an early age Tyra heard stories of the greed and evil that humanoids wrought upon dragon kind.  Hunting them for their wealth, their skin, glory, any reason they could muster to hunt her kind.  Tales of dragons who had left Ashzu often ended in insanity or death on the part of the wyrm, and Tyra bought every sentence of the stories with no questions.  Her fear turned to hatred as she grew older, seeing humanoids as needing to be ruled and kept in line through fear.

Her only tempering came from her sister, Maya’Xiachayl.  

Maya was Tyra’s best friend, and the only one to ever temper Tyra’s anger.  Unlike her sister, Maya was calm and measured in her approach.  She was wise and powerful.  A measured ruler and the perfect inheritor of Tyra’s family line.  Tyra even had hopes that one day Maya would be chosen to succeed Wymar as ruler of Ashzu, seeing Wymar’s own children as too weak to possibly follow such a powerful legacy.  

During her formative years Tyra trained as a squire to another dragon, Lady Vashti.  Vashti was another powerful dragon, much older than Tyra and fiercely strong.  Even in her humanoid form Tyra aspired to be as great as Vashti.

As she grew Tyra became less interested in maintaining her humanoid form, choosing to remain draconic as often as she could.  Her relationship with her family became strained with Tyra taking less interest in court but demanding to still be part of the ruling of the house.  On top of this Maya became distant with her sister, leaving for long periods of time and rarely speaking to her.

One day, when Maya was due to return from a long trip away, Tyra had a rare moment of wisdom.  She saw Maya slipping away from her, not wanting to lose her sister Tyra sought to make amends starting with a small gesture.  She assumed her human form and went to buy a present for her sister upon her return.  Unfortunately when Tyra came home she found that Maya had been murdered, her body had been bought home for the family to grieve over.  Tyra was told that Maya had been murdered by a group of people who infiltrated Ashzu to steal its riches.  With this story Tyra’s anger resurfaced with a vengeance.  

Following Maya’s death, her family refused to seek a resurrection service.  Tyra could not understand why, and for her sister she would do anything.  Tyra stole 25,000 gold pieces worth of items from her personal treasure hoard and made her way to the surface, seeking a powerful cleric to perform the ritual of True Resurrection.  

Tyra found someone very quickly.  In the northern realms near the city of Winterholt she found the Bastion of Sages, home to the Sage of the North, Gilbert and his apprentice Elyse.  Gilbert was indisposed at the time, but his apprentice was more than capable of performing the ritual.  She refused, however.  

Elyse attempted to explain that resurrection is not a simple spell.  It requires divine intervention from the gods of the caster, as well as compliance on the part of the soul who may have found peace in the afterlife.  

Tyra did not want to listen.  Enraged at the defiance of this humanoid she attacked Elyse.  The two fought for a long while, destroying part of the bastion in the process.  Elyse pushed Tyra to her very limits, but eventually Tyra emerged victorious, burning the cleric with her dragon fire.  

Injured and dejected Tyra returned home, only to find her family waiting for her.

Word of Tyra’s crime had spread quickly.  The Sage, Gilbert, now hated all Red Dragons and Ashzu for her crime.  Tyra was dragged before the court of Wymar and her sentence was clear.  Exile.

Her draconic aspects were sealed deep in the depths of her soul by the court wizard and she was banished from her home.  Unable to assume her true form and saddened at further loss Tyra wandered the world, with only her anger to warm her on the cold nights.  

Involvement with the Saintess of Light & the Main Party.

Three years after her banishment Tyra heard rumor that the son of Wymar, Voss was in the desert city of Rhaz receiving tutelage from a humanoid Wymar was friendly with.  Seeing potential in seeking and audience with Wymar she traveled to the city to confront him.

Tyra found herself met with his large retinue, headed by Vystra, brother of Vashti.  She exchanged heated words with the young prince and his enforcer, receiving a slap to the face for her trouble.  Angered by impertinence by someone who was far beneath her in her eyes she stormed off, cursing in draconic.  

Voss warned his tutor, Horatio Atherton, of Tyra.  Explaining that it was because of her that his mother, Wyla’s, resurrection could not be pursued as Gilbert had declared he would not provide such services to them.  While Horatio knew that Wyla was not dead, he could not tell the young boy and took his warning graciously to be wary of Tyra and her hatred of humanoids.  

Meanwhile Tyra wandered Rhaz, realizing quickly that her pockets were becoming empty.  She sought employment and quickly found work for one such as her.  

Tyra met with the Saintess of Light, Aelia Crassi, and her party, after reading a notice about needing help in an upcoming battle.  They consisted of the young Wyther Marche, a gnome named Brooke, a northern dwarf named Fortinbras, and the wizard Horatio Atherton.  

Horatio informed Aelia as to his distrust of Tyra, though they couldn’t be picky about the help that came before them.  Tyra was given a place on their first job, retrieving a staff of power for one of the other Saints to use in a vital battle.  Seeing this as a chance to test this party’s resolve she came along.

The party were teleported to the southern Dolman jungles with the task of retrieving a staff from a temple of Yuan Ti, snake people and worshipers of a demon god.  

Tyra proved herself quickly in battle, assisting in the cutting down of many Yuan Ti, though the party remained distrustful of her, not knowing exactly what it was she had done.  

After successfully retrieving the staff she attempted to recruit the party to help her return to Ashzu and plead her case to Wymar to remove the curse and give her back her power, as well as revive her sister.  However the party shot down her request stating that the upcoming battle was far more important.  

Unbeknownst to Tyra, Horatio had used his connections in Ashzu to already request Wymar’s help for this battle, a request which was granted.  

Tyra followed, reluctantly, to the Golden Isles, a beautiful paradise of an archipelago, where she had been told a demonic incursion had occurred.  She doubted the assessment of the situation until she saw the destruction wrought.  

Through combined forces consisting of multiple powerful Saints, draconic forces from Ashzu, naval support from Rhaz and arcane artillery from the city of Geffen, the party were able to battle their way through the Isles and slay the mastermind behind it.  The Monk of Pale Night, Dontae.  

Upon her return to Rhaz, Tyra sought another resurrection for her sister from the Saintess of Rhaz, Nina.  She was met with the same words Elyse had echoed to her years before.  With her anger quieted and her ears open Tyra listened to them for the first time.  Not only could this ritual possibly fail, but with her actions Tyra may have doomed any chance she had at returning home, and having her sister back.  She realized too that the actions she had taken since Maya’s death would certainly have made her sister saddened and disappointed by them.  

Distraught and alone Tyra pledged herself to Aelia, the Saintess of Light.  She wished to find redemption in the eyes of her sister, and saw a possible way to do that by following someone who might embody Maya’s ideals better than she ever could.

Now Tyra finds herself in the North, fighting against the regime of blood and death in the form of the vampires who have terrorized these realms for generations.  The Saintess traveled there to end the parasitic threat to the North’s people once and for all, and Tyra followed, still seeking actions that might redeem her in Maya’s eyes.  

Mechanics & Stats

Tyra is functionally a human with limited Red Dragon features.  Her class Warlock, with her patron and pact being Hexblade and Pact of the Blade.  

Her patron takes the form of her draconic powers, sealed deep within her but still crying out to be tapped into.  Tyra is able to manifest these powers as a magically bound weapon forged from her draconic essence.  She is also able to muster limited uses of powerful spells and abilities such as Terrifying Presence, and Dragon’s Breath.  

Str: 14

Dex: 14

Con: 20

Int: 10

Wis: 8

Cha: 20

Tyra is trained in the use of both martial and simple weapons, as well as how to effectively use shields in combat.  Her preferred weapon is a segmented longsword, combining the effects of a whip and longsword into an elegant and powerful sword which she feels mimics her tail.  

She is able to speak common and draconic, though her common is broken at times.  She does not enjoy speaking it and much prefers to converse in her native language.  Surprisingly she can also speak Ignan, the language of the fire elemental, which stems from her reverence of flame and that aspect of her.  

[slovenlyrecordings]

MEXICO D.F. AQUI ESTAMOS CON COPIAS DEL NUEVO (Y ULTIMO) DISCO DE WAU Y LOS ARRRGHS!!!

A UN PRECIO AMIGABLE: 150 PESOS! ESTE FINDE TIENEN TRES OPORTUNIDADES PARA AGARRAR UNA COPIA, GRACIAS A JUNK WILD QUE MONTO' UNA DJ-GIRA DE LA CIUDAD! INFO ABAJO!

Vendemos nuestra version del ultimo single de Wau y los Arrrghs que pueden ver y oir aca: sloven.ly/wyla _______________________

Este fin de semana es de locos, todo es ENTRADA LIBRE, no hay pretexto, así la cosa:

Viernes 19 de Enero - LenoxBar Colonia Juarez. 9PM A 1 AM ENTRADA LIBRE DJ Set por: Peter Menchetti (DJ Peter Slovenly), David Bruce + Junk Wild 👉🏽 FB event

_______________________

Sábado 20 de Enero - Departamento Colonia Roma 8:30 pm - 11.30 pm ENTRADA LIBRE (LLEGUEN TEMPRANO DESPUES HAY OTRO EVENTO) DJ Junk Wild (20:30 hrs - 22 hrs) + DJ Peter Slovenly (22 hrs - 11:30pm) 👉🏽 FB event

_______________________

Domingo 21 de Enero - 3er Mercado de Discos Discotráfico en Crisanta (Frente al Monumento a la Revolucion) ENTRADA LIBRE( Crisanta )

Junk Wild /Peter Menchetti DJ SETS + Expo de portadas musicales hechas por Andy Warhol , Mas DJ Sets en vivo, y mercadito de discos. Apartir de la 1pm hasta las 7 pm 👉🏽 FB event!

[deokryu]

𖥔 ݁˖ ࣭ ⭑ ' ¿el precio de qué? ' está demasiado confundido, quizá le faltó dormir un par de horas más. ' ¿acaso hay expositores aquí? ¿debíamos traer cosas para vender? ' / @wylcc

‘ ¿tú también me preguntarás por el precio? ’

[wylcc]

holas! por acá sofi de este lado presentando a wyla campbell. por acá abajo les voy a dejar los datos que considero relevante y denle like con confianza si sienten que podríamos armar algo (tmb tenganme paciencia que estoy re mil oxidada con las conexiones🙏🏻)

tablero / formulario.

es una golden retriever en todo su esplendor (miren su tablero que me encargue de plasmar muy bien sus vibras, si no lo hacen voy a llorar primer aviso)

es tiktoker y tiene bastantes seguidores como para ser considerada influencer asi que se puede conocer con otres que anden por esos medios!

está media loquita pero en el buen sentido, es bastante inquieta y detesta la rutina asi que lit que nunca se sabe para qué lado puede ir su vida. un tiempo se va a un retiro a espiritual a seguir el camino del budismo y a los meses puede estar viviendo la vida loca en tokyo filmando cada segundo de su vida y anécdotas con desconocides. su vida no tiene punto medio litera

es mUY ingenua en el sentido de no creer que hay personas malas al punto de no sospechar de algunas actitudes ajenas, solo dándose cuenta cuando las cosas le estallan en la cara. por estos motivos dos por tres está con el corazón roto

conectando con el punto anterior está queriendo iniciar su marca de cosméticos (paréntesis para decir que nadie le tiene mucha fé pq siempre se aburre de todo rápido). pero obvio ella quiere demostrarle al mundo que se equivocan, sin embargo, mi amiga wyla todavía no se da cuenta que su socio la está estafando con el dinero (ojalá que algunos de sus pjs le diga en un futuro amiga date cuenta!!!)

es fotógrafa tmb asi que les puede sacar fotitos buenas a sus hiies

creo que hasta acá sería todo, repito que no se sientan obligades a que tengamos una conex si o si pero lo dejo por si alguien gusta🥺🤍

[wylc]

' puaj. ¿acabo de desperdiciar uno de mis tragos en esto? ' pregunta que no tiene más respuesta que un lamento es lanzada al aire como un reproche. ' ¿quieres el consejo de una desconocida? ' probablemente no. de todas maneras, lanza palabras a la persona más cercana. ' no pidas un manhattan. ¡oh! y no te cases ni embarques un martes trece ' bromea brevemente, retomando su tarea de beber con muecas de por medio aquello que tanto le disgustó. no pensaba desperdiciar ningún trago.

[avrwen]

"jugar sucio siempre es más divertido" sonríe con fingida inocencia mientras alza las cejas a la espera del tiro ajeno. deja ir una carcajada cuando pelotita rebota en él y acaba por aterrizar en uno de los bazos. toma el vaso enseguida para cumplir con acabarse la bebida que carga dentro, pero le dedica una mirada traviesa por encima del mismo "¿qué te puedo decir? convierto todo lo que toco en oro" sentencia, dando a entender que aquel acierto a sido logrado a costa suya, y luego procede a acabarse el tequila de un solo trago. "¿estás lista para perder?" sentencia luego, quedándole pocos vasos en los que encestar para que el juego se dé por finalizado. ♡. @wylcc.

vira irises divertida, el desafío prendiendose en sus facciones en un santiamén. ' molestar a los oponentes es jugar sucio. ¿eso no te lo enseñaron en la escuela de beer pong? ' busca molestar un ápice con una mirada de reojo cargada de gracia. en realidad, solo está buscando tiempo porque su puntería apesta. ' a que este truco tampoco te lo enseñaron ' tira la pelota en dirección a la frente contraria, buscando que rebote en la dermis del masculino en dirección a algún vasito. una carcajada sonora que también pecó de sorprendida y unos brazos en alto son el reflejo de su victoria.

[rivlcy]

se deja guiar sin más, claro que lo hace si después de todo sabe que contraria está más que calificada para tomarle un par de fotografías sin temer al resultado " ¿crees que la cámara haga buenas tomas de noche? " porque la verdad no tenía idea de esos aparatos y por lo que veía, tampoco es que fuera de las más tecnológicas " como sea, confío en ti " y lo hace, así que se apoya en la baranda para elegir una pose que destaque sus facciones " quizás pueda usar una de estas para mis redes luego "

' estaba esperando que lo pidas ’ hay una ligera emoción que busca por mantener a raya en su sonrisa. algo del lugar la inspira a querer sacar millones de fotos y la fémina era una perfecta musa para ello. la brisa en los cabellos blondos, la luz natural de la luna, todo encajaba perfectamente. irises miran para todos lados buscando el cuadro perfecto, tomando con suavidad la muñeca ajena para guiarla cuando da con él ‘ ¡ven! esta luz es perfecta. aprovechemos que la cámara te adora, riley ’

[vanneliese]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ' bueno, si estoy yo cerca, las probabilidades son inexistentes. ' con eso deja en claro que puede confiar en ella y bajar la guardia en su presencia. ' no puedo prometer lo mismo si decides ir a dormir en otro auto. no sabemos qué tan inmaduros pueden ser en las pijamadas. '

‘ ¿cuáles son las probabilidades de que alguien me dibuje la cara mientras duermo? ’ susurra a la persona de al lado, reticente a cerrar los ojos. con la manta envolviendo su cuerpo las probabilidades eran muy altas a que su sueño gane la batalla.

[grivffiths]

" ¿está...bien? " palabras son pronunciadas con lentitud y un claro rostro de incomprensión, como si nada más estuviese contestando por cortesía sin haber entendido mucho más allá del contexto de aquella intervención " aunque aún sigo intentando entender la conexión entre el manhattan, el matrimonio y el embarcarse " pero básicamente ese es el estado continuo de la inglesa: poca comprensión real de lo que pasaba a su alrededor.

' puaj. ¿acabo de desperdiciar uno de mis tragos en esto? ' pregunta que no tiene más respuesta que un lamento es lanzada al aire como un reproche. ' ¿quieres el consejo de una desconocida? ' probablemente no. de todas maneras, lanza palabras a la persona más cercana. ' no pidas un manhattan. ¡oh! y no te cases ni embarques un martes trece ' bromea brevemente, retomando su tarea de beber con muecas de por medio aquello que tanto le disgustó. no pensaba desperdiciar ningún trago.