#frostchild

[tazmilyxfamily]

Looks.

"... ... ..."

On one hand, he could intervene. On the other...

A part of him was too tired to get involved.

He shook his head and promptly went back to sleeping standing up.

[cookieofearthbread]

@frostchild

are you sure you can handle this all by yourself? — to pomegranate!

"Yes, I can however this task will go quicker if I get some assistance." Pomegranate responded as she turned her attention to the frost spirit with the mirror in hand. She just took care some of the creatures in the forest that were a threat, however the priestess knew there were more roaming around which needed to be track down and taken care of.

Even if they were easy; it was also time-consuming, and she had others important tasks she needed to get to, thus she wasn't against the idea of the spirit helping her if it made the task go quicker.

[edniz]

Frostchild, 2023

[salveticn-a]

@frostchild​ | x

     the most beautiful star , he said . as elpis glanced up to the sky , he tried grasping whatever beautiful star he could , before realizing he grasped all of them within sight . and as he counted them , before he could move on to the next he had already lost count , or counted the same star twice ... or so he thought .   how many stars were there ?

     his attention shifted to the one that erichthonios considered his favorite , which only made him think that , after all , elpis didn’t have a favorite star at all . if he recalled correctly , in the days of his youth , igeyorhm told him that the stars were but other worlds spread across the universe . to look up to the sky and its stars , elpis was always fascinated to be met with a sea of worlds . he could only wonder what life would be in any of them , as his adventurous spirit rejoiced at the mere thought .

     ❝ hmm , i don’t think i have a favorite star . ❞   but he did have a favorite person   ( it wasn’t the same thing , but still ! )   , and it was erichthonios , of course ! he didn’t know if he would sense what he felt at the moment by gently lacing his fingers with his , but he hoped that erichthonios somehow felt the same way — that , somehow , he was his favorite person as well . he didn’t want to know , but , instead , wished to be carried in his heart .

     a soft chuckle escaped his lips , a palm was brought in front of his mouth to stifle it .    ❝ you can’t do that , silly ! and why would you want to touch them anyway ? they belong up there ! ❞

[yellowfingcr]

@frostchild​ said: finally someone with common sense

“One just needs to ask!”

She’s sufficiently untethered from meanings affixed outside herself to truly not care about such thing; bowing is humiliating or punishing only if your worth is in any way tied to external trivialities like respect. Heysel begins and ends with herself. She’ll bend her head and kneel and feel no more diminished for it.

[storiesungmoved]

@frostchild​ liked for a starter and got Ciri

“Geralt said you knew how to help me with my powers.” How Geralt knows of the woman, Ciri does not know. Geralt didn’t feel the need to tell her, only that the woman was safe and if Geralt thinks she is safe then Ciri is inclined to believe him for she does not think the Witcher would ever intentionally put her in harms way when he has sworn to protect her.

[amaurotyne]

He laughed as the breeze ruffled through his pale hair but got soon enough distracted by a sunhat passing him; carried by the very same breeze that had just caressed Eri. How curious! He had only seen those outside the inner city. Sometimes people in the outskirts wore them but here they were a rare sight. He picked it out of the air and turned it in his hands to view it from all possible angles. What a pretty hat! He wished their social conventions would allow him to wear one of these as well.

When he turned around to see where the piece had come from, he did not have to look further than at the woman who had seemingly appeared behind him. It made him almost flinch. Had she called out? He did not know; had not heard her if she had indeed called out. “Is this your pretty hat,” Eri asked as he pointed at the item in his hand. But looking at her attire, it was rather obvious. “I love it!” A bright smile, shining like the sun itself, crossed his features.

Elpis had been chasing her hat for the longer part of five minutes; which earned her stares from the taller Amaurotines. She must have looked like a child in their eyes with her long skirts and buttoned up blouse. She didn’t much mind their stares, she was curious of them as they were of her. 

Sliding to a stop on her laced up heeled boots; Elpis watched the Amaurotine with her hat. He seemed transfixed by the article of clothing. She was about to make her presence known when he turned to gaze at her. 

He was incredibly tall, beautiful and with pale hair. One of the few she seen with their hood down. Elpis smiled and curtsied in respect. 

“ Hello.” she greeted and nodded. “ Indeed. That is my hat, thank you for catching it for me.” she said and strolled over to take it. Once it was securely back on her head, she smiled. 

“ It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Elpis. As you can probably tell...I’m not from around here.” 

@frostchild​ 

[austerulous]

◈   @frostchild said:  ❛ A kiss on the cheek for ciaran? :^) ❜

“Hearts will break in your name tonight. I knew it would look at home on you.”

There, on the tundra of Quelavah’s décolletage, suspended on a finely wrought chain, was a rubellite tourmaline belonging to the assassin, its deep purple-red hue a drop of blood in snow. A feeling of triumph and appreciation unfurled in Ciaran’s chest. As she suspected, the jewel complemented the witch’s pale complexion beautifully.

Buried within their Lord’s halls, a grand banquet awaited them, promising the pair long hours of noble company and stiff conversation. For Ciaran, there was a sense of hiding in plain sight at such formal gatherings, her face unrecognised by most. No mask obscured her now, her features framed by the ornate mirror of the vanity. Two women, side by side, one shades of silver, the other all golden tones.

Ciaran sought her companion in the age-spotted glass, amber irises finding quartz. The best part of evenings such as these was the anticipation, the time spent preparing – preferably in desirable company. A cool kiss, pressed lightly and unexpectedly to her freckled cheek, only reaffirmed this sentiment.

“It is yours to keep.” With a faint smile, Ciaran picked through the clutter of her table, crowded as it was with everything a Lord’s Blade might need. Fingers danced over pots of powder, perfume and poison, neglecting a glittering dagger, her generously filled goblet of wine, a tangle of bandages. Arming herself with a brush, she resumed her position, standing behind the seated Quelavah, and began to brush her wintry hair, horsehair bristles coaxed gently through those colourless tresses. “Shall I braid it for you, or would you rather leave it free?”

[tazmilyxfamily]

He agrees with the sheep Cookie lady.

Are you sure about that.

[corrunuptia]

❛ no one notices your tears, or your pain. but they notice your mistakes. ❜

get mauled by the queen ( closed. )

♚;

----------------black eyes like fine gashes on the queen's face focus on the priestess, a fierce shiver making every muscle of her tense. her long hands are rigid on the arms of the chair, clawing at the cloth. in fact she almost rises, ready to pounce like a great white lioness, though wisdom halts her charge.

' that thou shouldst utter these words before us... we have heard of thy divine wisdom. it seems now as though it may be foolishness, ' annalise hisses between fine lips.

nevertheless, at the back of her mind the words swirl, and the clear aroma of their truth calms the queen's anger. she settles into her chair again and lets out a sigh. indeed her every decision as cainhurst's regent is scrutinized, analyzed ten times over, and most certainly criticized. but when she herself suffers, there are none to witness her tears, and even fewer to wipe them away.

her eyes trail to the bounteous food that lays between them, enshrined in elegant silverware. none, except...

no, not even him. in her pain she has always stood alone.

' thou art right, of course, high priestess. we cannot begrudge thee thine observation, scathing as it is, ' annalise sighs, relaxing. she brings a golden chalice to her lips and drinks thoughtfully. when she next looks at rivah it is with piercing, spider-cold eyes.

' we simply ask that thou dost not forget thy station. cainhurst is our land, and thou art our honored guest. '

in an instant her face changes, and annalise gives a wide and genuine, fanged smile.

' shall we have dessert, then? '

[simulvcra]

starter for @frostchild​

      Even fathoms deep, the light seems determined to penetrate. Sickly spindled fingers pressing through the gloam veil , glass scraping against glass , primordial veneration reimagined. Designed to rap against the senses like a bothersome, insistent caller at the eleventh hour toll. Knuckles against glass , dancers viewed through frosted glass. 

Always a hair's breadth out of immediate view but constantly present , milk white eyes peering through cloud deck lashes. 

      Silt and sediment give way to rugged stone outcropping underfoot , proxy road to Rome ( all roads lead home , home ). Relief is a palpable ripple across the gathered , weary and yet no less determined for it — they can breathe a little easier , the fear of falling down into the abyssal suddenly an unpleasant memory rather than a tangible, ever looming threat. Answers are seemingly within their grasp.

A gross oversimplification of their tale in five parts, ultimately the idea that answers will suddenly open up like november rains and coat them with life giving rains ( a parched man would crawl over the sun bleached bones of his brethren to taste ) is no more a fools fanciful attempt of willing tomorrow to be better by pure fervent determination. They’re no closer than they were at the start , only the rules of engagement have changed. 

      Dante knows one can wish on all the constellations glinting far above the watery , light scarred canopy — and be rewarded with silence’s raucous laughter. Silence ever the rapt audience , and she’s had season after season to take her fill , her smile hid behind a fan cleverly inscribed with their many trials in gilt excess. 

But it’s not the impending curtain call of awareness that draws his gait to a delayed stop somewhere between the sea && unknown, it’s the stage itself. Glittering amongst muted oceana , precious gemstones cast by an artists hand.

Towers inlaid with dreaming tourmaline and hopeful citrine. Great wardens of fallow bones , their lanterns aloft. To the untrained eye , it’s a simple moment of awestruck intensity , to the initiated it is the sight of a master swordman taking an unprecedented blow to the chest. The body betrays nothing , but all his ivory cathedrals are splintered , the sun comes apart and embraces tempest.

      Heeled boot stalls , falters and stills in a matter of moments. A subtle twist of gloved fingers around a well loved , well memorized pommel. The Scion’s are long gone by now , divide && conquer ever their creed. One remains , however , lingering like snowfall. Chill in the bones even when exposed to the warmth of a hearth and mulled wine. Strange comfort to the en masse , but it is just another taste of home in this phantom apparition.

      “ It feels like I’ve been here before. “ Vibrant eyes divert between curtains of silver , settling upon Halorn’s frame with thinly veiled incredulity and mirth. Elects for honesty rather than glib commentary. Parses her silhouette as if somehow she is both the answer and the question , before they move away again.

“ Regardless — “ Is his quiet , thoughtful follow up , attempting to grasp the vines between his fingers before they sprout thorns , “ What do you make of it all ? “ Do you trust this nightmare diorama , this impossibility made manifest.

[salveticn-a]

@frostchild​ || x

      ah , his reactions always were priceless !   and elpis adored each and every single one of them , for they warmed his heart aplenty ! 

     in fact , as erichthonios juggled his arms back with the hope of melting the ice faster , elpis simply couldn’t contain it and let out a hearty chuckle -- this time even bringing both hands on his stomach !

      ❝ i am so sorry , eri ! ❞   he admitted , even though the constant giggling leaving him breathless and bringing his voice on the highest tones made anyone assume that he didn’t truthfully mean it . a finger to wipe away his tears before he approached his adored friend and rested a hand on his back , exactly on where the ice melted . he could feel it through the robe .

     ❝ i am sorry , i am--!! ❞   and he bursted again , even bending his torso forward , for his sides started to sting a little .   ❝ t-the way -- the way you--you ... ah , hahaa-- i can’t--!! ❞

[yellowfingcr]

"You had a dream about me?"

you... I've seen you / not accepting!

“More than once, my friend!”

“But- in this specific one- you were a knight. Or something like that, I believe; you were wrapped in steel plates, each segment tested by time and trial but polished to a mirror sheen, and I knew that this was something, in this dream context, normal for witches of the pyromantic kind. I’m going to assume the armor was enchanted to resist fire or something like that, but I won’t search for sensible in a dream.”

“So you explain to me that you’re hunting for a demon, and not only that: you ask me if you’ve seen it pass by, the way one asks how a detested neighbor is doing, the same faux nonchalance. I tell you no. I’m fairly sure I have not, in fact, seen any demon, to which you insist that there is one, and if there is no one around here but me- then the conclusion is only one, is it?”

“And you know, the logic of it was so irrefutable in my dream that I struggled to come up with a way to say, without doubt, that I wasn’t a demon and that I wasn’t the demon you were hunting down specifically. How do you offer tamper-proof evidence that you are not someone else? The obvious choice is to offer details that only you can know. I scrambled in that direction. I am your friend Heysel!, I began, you know me? I’m not a demon? and you retorted instantly I am unconvinced, and unsheathed your sword- it was a remarkably beautiful sword, I must add- and I was there saying WAIT, wait, wait, Quela, my friend, my witch… knight… pyromancer friend, see, here’s something only I can know: when we studied together pyromancy, during the first lessons, my flame glued itself like an apple fearful of gravity to my hand, stalwartly refusing to leave my palm like it a flame should. It took some attempts more to succeed. See? Would your demon know that?”

“To which you answered, that’s exactly what a demon would say, and then I abruptly woke up. Thankfully. I very much did not want to be slain by dream you, the way I’d rather not be slain by the real you.”

“Speaking of which, I promise I’m not a demon. Please believe me.”

[yeleltaan]

 @frostchild said: yes these are your responsibility because you brought them in here! this is like i let out the beasts and shove that responsibility to you. you cannot only have the nice things of the city!                            

“You assume I brought them here but you have no true proof, I just happened to be the first victim... in fact! I recall a certain someone happily calling in ladies to show your shoulders to the night before they arrived!”

“- and what have you done for the city? Nothing but shift the blame and work to me!”

[storiesungmoved]

@frostchild​ from here

The sound of coin certainly gets his attention as it falls next to his sword with a clang. He eyes it for a moment but doesn’t dare to pick it up just yet. Cat-eyes are quick to return to the woman’s face. The promise of work and more coin captures his attention even more.

“A beast in a cage? You keep beasts in cages?” Now, he’s not so sure he wants the job. Not enough money in the world could lessen his anger at the thought of a beast being kept trapped like that. Eyes narrow in irritation, in anger almost. That poor creature - it is no wonder it escaped.

“People who keep things in cages.....as far as I’m concerned, they are the true monsters. Keep your coin. I sooner free it than return it back to you for some sort of twisted entertainment.”

[amaurotyne]

It was the familiar feeling that drew him to this misbegotten place. Echoes of one long gone and departed verberated in his mind’s eye--awakening his own echo to respond in kind--like some sort of beacon to a listless ship. Its ambience giving way to a strange sort of feeling in his chest--one of homesickness. 

Lahabrea appeared in the dead of night. He scanned the snowy steeples and notated on how when the snowfall came--there was no sound--not a one. The fractured sleep in their beds dreaming of Starlight; unbeknownst to them--a wolf--an intruder, interloper, a phantom lingered in a place that was once his.  The feeble thought of them sent a sliver of jealousy through him but as quickly as it came, it was gone--like a flash. 

Focusing his mind back on the task at hand, Lahabrea meandered through the sky until he found his quarry. Chestnut hues fixated upon the mortal--no..

That sharp, overbearing presence plagued him once more and he knew he was staring not at a fractured soul like those who slept around him but of...

An array of feelings whirled in him--dread, happiness, hope, fleeting and small, anger, and incredulous urge to march himself there and demand answers. He did not. He remain stagnant in the air like in some kind of stasis as he watched the other with curiosity. 

Finally, he steeled his mind, and moved to greet this person. He appeared before them in a flash of violet and blue, he stepped out of the portal and stared at them with a darkening look. 

“ You will explain yourself, pretender.” he said with a bit of a scowl. “ And do so quickly, you will find my patience is not infinite.” 

@frostchild   S.C.