#lokelani

[fruitsclipper]

my uncle is here & as usual he brought weird

and miss lokelani ♡ it was her "birthday" on thursday

[athleticperfection1]

American Triathlete Lokelani McMichael

[wormy-business]

Calliram, Drow Cleric of Lolth.

Calliram is one of my Tav's in Baldur's Gate 3. He is a drow, and a war domain cleric of Lolth. I decided that he would be from Menzoberranzen, like Minthara is, but unlike Minthara he didn't have a reason to leave his home and travel all the way down the Sword Coast to near where Baldur's Gate is. So instead, I gave him a little extra trauma, as a treat! I'll add a few pictures of him at the end of the post (as well as translations for the drow-words used).

Calliram of House Maelith, thirty-second house of Menzoberranzen, was taught many things by his mother, Aundryl of House Maelith. Amongst those many things, he was taught that as a male he was inherently lesser, that he should be subservient, that denying the request of a woman (unless she request something to harm his own house) would be to deny Lolth Herself. Calliram was soft-spoken, well behaved, gentle tempered, skilled in the breeding of spiders, skilled at playing the harp, well read on scripture and the histories of Menzoberranzen, and he was of age to be married soon. Very soon, if the formal event Aundryl was hosting within a ten-day should go well. 

On this particular day, Calliram was sent to the market streets. He was sent for certain supplies pertaining to a ritual he and his mother would conduct in Lolth’s honor. Such a task is unfitting for even the mildest mannered servants to undertake, and so he was trusted in the procurement of these items. He would not have failed this task if not for three sisters of the forty-fifth house of Menzoberranzen. They knew of his mother’s formal event, they knew of his sisters Laniss and Viconia’s fierce battle tactics, supposedly rivaling those of the highest houses. They desired to have such a power, to tear down House Maelith and take their place in Menzoberranzen’s hierarchy. They knew as well how Calliram was raised, their own brothers and cousins were raised the same. To deny a woman is to deny Lolth.

“You, jaluk!” One of the sisters called from a particularly darkened alleyway. Calliram, who walked with shoulders broad, head high, spine straight, and eyes focused ahead stopped in his tracks and turned his head to where the voice called to him

“Yes, alur?” He spoke in a clear voice, yet one that was still soft and subservient to the women who beckoned him.

“Come here to us.” The other sister spoke this time, her voice a harsher hiss than her sister’s. “We require your assistance.” 

Calliram complied. Not only due to his teachings, but of the knowledge that he is soon to be wed. It would be unbecoming of his house if word spread that he had dared denied women of another noble house a request. He merely said the words “of course, madams. Whatever I can do to assist you, my hands shall be your tools.” He stepped from the busy streets to the alleyway, which he found nearly as crowded. The buildings on either side left little room for four people to stand. The tallest and eldest of the sisters glared down at Calliram, who dared not make eye contact with her should he spark her ire. 

“Harl’il’cik.” The eldest’s voice was the harshest and meanest sounding of the three sisters. 

Calliram, a sense of fear shooting through his heart, did as he was commanded and knelt down before the three women, who began to encircle him like vultures. Even as they drew nearer, snickering with malicious intent, Calliram did as he was told. He did not question the sisters, he did not complain his clerical robes were dirtied by the filthy streets, he did not urge them that his matron had sent him to gather supplies for a sacred ritual, he only sat in submissive silence. 

The sister with the sweetest voice tied a blindfold tightly around Calliram’s head.

The sister with the spider-like hissing voice stuffed a dirty rag into his mouth, and tied rope around his mouth to keep it in place. 

The eldest sister with the harshest voice kicked Calliram in the ribs, knocking him onto his back. He was flipped by the two younger sisters, who held him as he struggled so their sister could tie his hands behind his back. 

A hand, to which sister it belonged was unknown to Calliram, grabbed a fistful of his soft white hair and yanked him to his feet. 

Calliram, so docile and ignoble, now thrashed and cried and panicked. He tried to speak, but only swallowed chunks of dirt and stray fabric. As his stumbling feet were forced forward, one of the sisters would often punch him in the side or kick at his shins. He cried for his mother, for his sisters, for his House Matron, he cried for Lolth herself, yet all were unaware of or silent to his cries. Finally, the eldest sister spoke again. Not to him, but to someone he could not see.

“Take him to the surface. Beat him if you wish, but under no circumstances should you kill him. I don't care about anything else you do, but I need him to find his way back down here eventually for this to work. You can throw him off the caravan while it’s moving for all I care, just don’t kill him.” 

Calliram’s heart pounded in his ears. Who was the woman talking to? Why did she need him alive? Why was he being taken to the surface? Who was taking him there? What plan did she have regarding him?

There were more sounds, clinking muffled by fabric, an exchange of coin. 

“This is only 500.” A deep, gruff male voice griped. 

“And you’ll get the other half when you’re done!” The middle sister hissed at the man, her tone impatient and almost childish. 

There was a lot of grumbling and moaning of whoever was being given possession of Calliram, but eventually stout hands that grabbed at his bindings from below shoved Calliram onto the floor of a wagon.

Calliram heard a whip, the whine of a rothé, and a dialect of Dwarvish being spoken as the wagon began moving. He had been kidnapped by noble drow, and passed on to duergar to do their dirtier work. 

It was not long before Calliram felt a sharp kick dig into his back. Just as they had been given permission, the dwarves beat Calliram until he was bloodied and bruised. With each punch, kick, and stab Calliram cried to his Goddess for her mercy, for her forgiveness, for streea. 

He received nothing but what may have been hours of torture. And at the end of it, just as they had been encouraged to, the dueargar shoved Calliram from the moving wagon to the dirt road. 

Calliram cried out, a sharp pain shooting through the arm he landed on as he rolled onto his back. Even with the blindfold still covering his eyes, he could sense the brightness of the surface. He tried to stand, but his legs were weak and one of his arms had certainly fractured during the fall from the wagon. He felt blood in his throat as he tried to breathe, and forced himself onto his side. With the rag still in his mouth he could not spit the blood from his mouth, but he felt it dribble onto his chin mixed with saliva. He whined as he crawled off of the road, ramming his head face first into a tree, only furthering his pain. Using the broad, sturdy trunk he leveraged himself into a standing position. 

It took another hour of struggle, but he managed to escape from his bindings. The blindfold was the first to come loose, but when the bright surface sun hit his eyes for the first time in his over a hundred years of living, he wished he had kept it on. The light was blinding, it stung and pained him to look at his surroundings. The surface world was foreign to him, he had only ever once traveled outside of Menzoberranzen to the city of Mantol-Derith, the rest of his life had been spent in the caverns, in his mother’s temple, and his home. This place was alien to him.

When he had finally managed to slip his wrists from their bindings he could finally remove the rope and dirty, now bloodied, cloth from his mouth. He then fell back to the ground, shielding his eyes from the sun, like a child, and he cried, like a child. He had hardly any magic, no focus to cast from, and no components to form spells with. He clutched a holy symbol around his neck, feeling the sharp pointed legs of a spider, Lolth’s symbol the same as was tattooed on his forehead, and used what little arcane power he could gather to heal only some of his injuries. He then fell into exhaustion. He curled into as tight a ball as he could, draped his ragged and bloody robes over his body, and fell into a sleep that was almost as foreign to him as the world around him. 

When Calliram woke night had fallen. He was grateful for the darkness it brought, he could see clearer now. He was still in pain, but less so after hours of rest. He whined as he pulled himself onto his feet, and shivered in the cold breeze as he began to walk aimlessly through the wilds. He did not know what direction the wagon had come from, or where it had gone after he was dropped from it. In fact, he had lost the road entirely. He did not know where to go to get back to his home. He was surely going to die out here. As Calliram entered a clearing, he dropped down to offer a prayer to Lolth. While he was preparing, before he could begin his prayer, a sound in the sky caught his attention. Something like a ship was crossing the sky. In abject horror, he froze and watched as it approached him, and something like a tentacle seized his body, and once again, Calliram was taken.

Translations:

Jaluk - Derogatory term for a male drow

Alur - "Superior"

Harl'il'cik - "Kneel"

Streea - To die in service to Lolth

[heirceleste]

@bigidiotenergy for sylar

it’s the morning after a kill, a night spent dancing and kissing strangers in a new city, hours from where the body lies cold. the sun is just coming up when she gets back to the motel, sobered up in a stranger’s bed flecks of blood hidden beneath glitter on her skin. her heels come off the second she enters the room, showering quickly to rinse the night off of her skin before stealing one of sylar’s shirts to sleep in. nudging his arm in the bed lokelani slides in next to him, pressing her cold feet against his leg. “just once would it kill us to stay somewhere a little nicer? maybe with two beds?” she asks.

[xradiant]

@heirceleste - xxx

"It all depends on which dream you want to discuss." He answered with a small grin as he leaned forward on the counter, folding his hands and looking over at her. But she was something, wasn't she? Standing there like she was. "A few days ago seems a long while too much, don't you think?" He offered, wearing a smile of his own.

[valaquenta]

Abby Lokelani - Hopes and Dreams

[jackalspine]

Last session was the first time my winged party member joined me in my disguise so we became AsMorbius The Long a traveling soothsayer capable of communing with the dead….

^fleur under the robe

So an ongoing bit in my dnd session is that whenever we need money or anyone needs a disguise…. We break out Asmordious The Awesome.

In which my character dons a beard and two other party members fit under my luscious robe and suddenly we are THE GREAT WIZARD ASMORDIOUS

^in this drawing my character isn’t wearing the beard cause I failed my disguise roll so it fell off. (The other two under my robe rolled high on stealth so it was just me…

[fruitsclipper]

Petted ❗️

[heirceleste]

@terrifiesthem from the ask

lokelani isn’t going to cry. even as she pulls out a duffle bag and begins the process of packing. folding clothes a small as she can, leaving behind half read library books and dollar store chalk pastels. takes a deep breath and bites her bottom lip as hygiene products are cleared from the bathroom. “where are we going this time?” she wants to ask for a big city with a nice library, or somewhere with community gardens she can explore her powers in. anywhere that could provide entertainment and stability, anywhere they can stay for a while.

“do we have a place set up or are we gonna be in the truck? cause if we have to be in your truck i’m bringing a pillow and blanket.” shoves her hair brush and deodorant into a pair of sneakers before tucking them into the bag, refusing to meet frank’s eyes as she speaks.

[happy-lemon]

LOKELANI JULIA WELLS

[heirceleste]

lokelani goes to say something about how it’s a sexy halloween costume and not an everyday outfit but is stopped by the twirl of a knife and the way rio circles her. “i still don’t understand what you want to teach me. i don’t doubt that magic is real or whatever, but it isn’t me.” thinks of how her life could’ve been different, the ways she could’ve fought back as a teenager if she’d had a touch of magic.

at the same time lokelani looks at the plants around her, knows that they’re strangely healthy and swears she can hear them speak to her. thinks back to the years she spent in school trying to understand her affinity for plant science and the way she was able to care for the flowers in her shop. hard work, it’s all about the work i’ve put in, not some magical bullshit.

taking a step back from the woman in front of her, kel shakes her head, curls bouncing. “look there isn’t anything to teach me. you’re a witch, great wonderful, i’m just a florist and a botanist. my parents would’ve burned me at the stake and then themselves if they thought magic was a real thing that existed and i could do.” rolls her eyes at the thought of it, ignoring the so called witch in front of her in favor of pacing around the flower shop.

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜ from lokelani / @heirceleste

it's not every day that she ends up in this situation. it's not every day that she meets someone who doesn't know they're a green witch. there's a lot to be interested in when it comes to lokelani, but that is certainly top of the list. rio had noticed immediately, when they'd run into each other by pure accident. it fascinates her to think that someone might have that much power and not want the full extent of it. perhaps she's spent too much time around witches who crave it. herself included, if she's being honest.

"i'll have you know, most people find this sexy!" she replies, gesturing at the torn-up, deep blood-stained outfit that she always wears. it's what she likes, so sue her. "are you not into the dirty-bloody-witch look? shame." her voice drips with sarcasm, but it's lighthearted. she's not looking for an argument, she's still thinking about the offer she might be extending.

she pauses, the hilt of her knife pressing against her chin as if to show that she's thinking both about something serious and about murder. "you know," she starts, moving the knife away to twirl it in her hands as she starts to walk around lokelani, circling her almost like a hawk circling their prey. finally, she makes the decision, and throws the offer into the air between them. "i could teach you."

[thatliminal-wanderer]

Pink Cat Girl ID Pack

Requested by Anon

Names

Abby, Afra, Almog, Altansarnai, Amaranth, Annagul, Aphrodite, Bellarose, Bengal, Blush, Briallen, Carnation, Cerise, Cherry, Coral, Coralie, Coraline, Doja, Donda, Faviola, Feleena, Feline, Fleur, Fuchsia, Gulabi, Gulrukh, Gülizar, Havana, Ichigo, Kalika, Kalyca, Kamala, Kat, Kitty, Kolab, Kopal, Koralia, Kulap, Lilac, Lokelani, Lotus, Marjani, Marzhan, Mau, Mauve, Mist, Ogin, Peninna, Primrose, Quahah, Raisa, Rosa, Rosalie, Rosalind, Rose, Rouge, Ruby, Savannah, Shoshana, Tiffany, Vardah, Vidhruma, Warda, Wurud

Pronouns

baby/babys, blush/blushs, bubble/bubblegum/bubblegums, candy/candys, cat/cats, cherry/cherries, coral/corals, cotton/cottons, feline/felines, fla/flamingo/flamingos, fuchsia/fuchsias, fur/furs, girl/girls, gum/gums, kitten/kittens, mag/magenta/magentas, meow/meows, mew/mews, nya/nyans, pastel/pastels, paw/paws, pig/pigs, pink/pinks, prr/prrs, punch/punchs, rose/rose, rouge/rouges, salmon/salmons, taffy/taffys, tulip/tulips, whisker/whiskers, 🌷/🌷s, 🌸/🌸s, 🎀/🎀s, 🐱/🐱s, 🐽/🐽s, 🚺/🚺s, 🦩/🦩s, 🩰/🩰s, 🩷/🩷s, 🪷/🪷s

Titles

A Cat Girl Adorned in Pink, A Coral Colored Cat,A Kitty of Pink, A Pink Kitty, The Cat Girl of Pink Hues, The Cat with a Girlish Pink, The Cute Pink Kitty, The Girl Who’s Cat Ears and Tails are Pink, The One With A Pink Kitty Nose, The Pink Cat-like Girl, The Pink Meow, [prn] Who Purrs Pink Hues, [prn] With The Pink Ears and Tail

Genders

Aestheticatgirlic, Catearpersproutial/Catearsproutial, Catgirlcutie, Catgirldarling, Catgirlgender, Catgirlthing, Cutecatesque, Glitterkittyic, Luckycatgirl, Pinkcatgender, Pinkgender, Pinkheartsmeowic, Pinkinjection, Pinkribbon, Refecatgirlcomfic, Sillycatgirlic

Other mogai

Aldercatgirl, Alderretraclawic, Assigned Cat at Birth/ACatAB / Assigned Kitty at Birth/AKitAB, Cat Omninoun, Catalius, Catperspesque, Catstelic, Catvesi, Felivior, Kemidernic, Pink Diffiden, Pink Omninoun

[saveuswhitegirl]

04.30.2024 | Shadowheart

Appearance Edit Enhanced by Eralyne. Piercing Edits by jerinski. Trips' Accessory Collection by Trips. lokelani's lavish livery by lokelaniii. Shadowheart Dyes by me. Camera by Frans Bouma. Captured using ReShade.

[virtualfotodivision]

Shadowheart | 04.30.2024 | Baldur's Gate III

Appearance Edit Enhanced by Eralyne. Piercing Edits by jerinski. Trips' Accessory Collection by Trips. lokelani's lavish livery by lokelaniii. Shadowheart Dyes by me. Camera by Frans Bouma. Captured using ReShade.

[heirceleste]

"if you're suggesting i fuck you so that you don't kill me, i'm not particularly enthused. especially considering i'm literally about to throw up all over the back seat of your very nice car," kel half jokes. another deep breath, opens her eyes and sits up, swallows deeply. she's mad at how much she doesn't hate the idea, at how nice it would feel to be underneath him.

"not to say i wouldn't fuck you to be very clear. you're handsome, more than that really. but i feel like absolute shit and all i want to do is sleep for a week. and ya know, do cocaine." her stomach turns as the car starts moving and she lets out a breath of relief. "and not to tell you how to do your business but maybe make sure the cocaine your selling is legit and not filled with other crap. i do it because its fun, if i wanted to get hooked on something i would do opiates."

heirceleste​:

“i just want to be able to repay you and i’m not sure how else i would do it. i don’t have a lot of skills you’d find useful, but i’m willing to learn,” she admits. sinking into the seat kel moves so she’s practically laying down and lets her eyes close. tries to breathe deeply and stop herself from being sick, especially since there isn’t anything left in her stomach.

“maybe you could let me earn your trust?”

his eyes narrow at her, and he can’t be sure whether or not it’s irritation or curiosity. she seems to be making herself at home — sprawling out on leather seats, closing her eyes as if it wouldn’t make her easier prey. her lack of survival instinct is grating in its innocence.  ❝ oh there are plenty of ways i’m sure you could make yourself useful to me. not sure if you’d like any of them though. ❞  he flashes her a quick smirk, rakes dark eyes over her form. makes the context of his words painfully clear.