#para: eilonwy

[marsdenlee]

Location: Sapphire Sea

With: @eilonwyj

The lake was so deep and saline that it rarely ever froze but that didn't stop the waters from reaching frigid temperatures, luckily it hardly phased the siren as he half lounged along the shoreline, looking like an aquatic creature from the depths that was emerging to bring terror to the town populace. He was not, at least not today it wasn't on his to-do list. He instead had his phone held in his hands, gray and black shifted skin smooth and gleaming like an oil slick along the exposed parts of his body, tattoos decorating his arms and torso, elbows dug into dark damp sand to support his weight as water lapped around the sides of his black tail, half submerged but the sharp points of his ruffle like fins directed upwards.

Gills on either sides of his neck revealed shallow dark slits that disturbed the images inked into his skin and no hair on his head, only more ruffle like fins held down by a black backwards baseball cap, the rest of the fins running down the back of his neck and along his spinal curve and his eyes, vibrantly blue against the surrounding black set of them, no whites at all, his siren appearance barely human at all, only the vaguest sense of the humanoid creature he normally was.

"Hey, come here," Mars gestured with a webbed hand, nails pointed sharp and translucent, not looking up at whoever it was that he was hearing walking by, his eyes still glued to his phone screen. An odd sight, such a creature like this holding a smart phone along a shoreline. "How many cats ya see in dis picture? I only see four. There's supposed to be seven?"

[wyatt-hennessy]

Location: Botanical Gardens With: @eilonwyj

Wyatt meandered slowly through the botanical gardens, having started at one end and began to make his way through it. The lawns were expensive, grass green and flecked with white dew, occasional pockets where snow decided to stick just a bit in patches here and there and despite the cold of the season that would have produced a bare looking garden of brown sticks and leafless shrubbery, everything was still very alive and vibrant. Magic kept these gardens flourishing, he could tell as he stooped low and rubbed calloused fingers across the waxy surface of a leaf, could feel the magic sticking to them in a way that almost made them shimmer.

There were a few others who were enjoying the gardens as well, passing couples and groups of friends, each chattering together softly and appreciating the garden, taking photos of themselves and each other. Wyatt took a moment just to watch them casually, his hands now in his coat pockets, breathing in the cold air that clung at the back of his throat and sent a shiver down his spine, his clothes thin and poorly insulated, mended and patched over the years. He noticed one other who had not left this particular section of the garden like the other passersby and so would give a nod in greeting to the woman, "Afternoon ma'am. Nice day out," there was a distinct drawl as he spoke, "You know what keeps this garden from dying?"

[min-ji-min]

Location: Acacia Heights Country Club - Afternoon Tea Service With: @eilonwyj

"Can you pass the... mm... is that one the strawberry jam near you or is it the rhubarb? I can't tell. That one though," she gestured with her cutely manicured nails which were rounded with a gradient of pale pink on some and clear with little flowers on the others. It matched with her outfit which was a fluttery white dress and thin pink cardigan for the days were still a little warm but had begun to grow chillier.

"These are nice but I can tell they aren't fae made," Min-Ji asserted with every confidence in the world though though really she had no idea. "How's your tea? Which one did you pick again?" She brought up her own teacup which was meant to be caramel apple but she'd put enough sugar cubes inside that the delicate notes were overpowered.

[valentin-stjohn-archive]

Location: St John Botanical Gardens With: @eilonwyj

The walk down from the large estate building toward the Garden House located deep within the botanical garden was a considerable distance but while there were long stretches of manicured green lawn, the pathway itself was lined with low growing bushes and flower patches of indigenous plants, thin green iron posts with markers named out various different plants with their Latin names so that anyone walking through the gardens could name and recognize what was growing there. Valentin was dressed well as he always was, rarely ever seen in anything but a well-tailored suit, stitched precisely to his form so it fit him in a very complimentary way and despite the coldness of the air around him, he did not wear a coat. The dead like him did not feel the frigid air for it matched his own body temperature and there was no need for a coat unless it was for fashion or a statement, for the moment he needed neither.

As he walked, he carried himself with a quiet confidence and an easy manner, he did not breathe or have any minor alterations in his step that came with mortal living, seeming to move effortlessly despite the unlevel terrain and it gave him a distinctly inhuman aura. Generally, Valentin maintained a 'glamour' over his left eye which disguised its true appearance and made it appear to match his actual eye color, which was a pale and muted blue tone, but as Eilonwy was a faerie, she could likely see through his 'glamour' and see that the iris of his left eye was pitch black and she may even be able to sense that it was distinctly fae.

"Has there been a creature you have not been able to communicate with?" The vampire male would ask Eilonwy without looking in her direction, his strange gaze focused on the path and gardens ahead of him but keeping her within his peripheral vision.

[micah-weber]

Location: Maulform's Dark Apothecary With: @eilonwyj

"Were you able to get more of those red butterfly wings?" Micah asked as he looked up from the book that held all the special order requests. Maulform's Dark Apothecary supplied many of the town coven's and independent witches and so were often overcome with special requests during ritual heavy times of the year, which in this case coincided with the winter holidays and he had to reach out to various other suppliers in order to fulfill all the orders. It was lucky for him that he was on winter break from university so he could get more hours to help at the store and not worry so much about fitting in time to study.

[valentin-stjohn-archive]

The old fashioned way. By summer it would be glorious once more. Valentin was not considerably vocal but there was an element within his silence now as it stretched between them that spoke volumes and while his facial expression had not shifted, the atmosphere filling the garden house felt almost stifling with disappointment. His unbalanced eyes, one appearing pale blue as forget-me-nots, the other pitch black entirely landed on her slowly, the movement of his irises so miniscule that if one hadn't been paying attention to their shifting one could easily wonder if he'd even moved or had he always been staring at her. "Your word," silence broken, "means nothing to me."

He could hear the crunch of gravel of footsteps outside the garden house, of birds chirping on dry branches, hushed conversations about the state of the garden as it was now and what a shame that so many of the plants seemed affected, things audible to his heightened hearing which was apparently one of the features of his vampirism that hadn't been affected by the shift of dynamic caused by the mist.

"I don't care how you do it," the methodology meant nothing, "You will fix this," points of his fangs visible beneath the line of his upper lip, unable to conceal them or withdraw them back into his gums, whatever force was affecting them made it impossible to conceal such features, the same true for her it seemed. He had never seen her in such a state, so exposed with all her fae peculiarities. "By any means necessary."

it was a simple question yet, forced eilonwy to answer and think of a way do to so in a manner satisfactory. without this job, she truly felt as if she were useless. more less useless, completely nothing without the job she occupied - somewhere, somehow, eilonwy had forgotten that she was a separate person outside of the gardens and butterfly house. it was an identity that she felt she couldn’t function without, not properly. what else was there to do? many fae had fled to their realms for comfort while she had not the luxury.

the woman still had not answered back, black eyes staring into palest blue and the other one. it spoke louder than her eventual; “the old fashioned way”, without her magic. something eilonwy could do, as she had done almost 20 years ago. plan, plant, water, monitor. something much more intensive then simply allowing fae magic to aid in the process. “if i work quick, by summer it will be glorious once more,”

not once had she been perturbed by his appearance, by the fangs nor anything else. not that it mattered if she was, after all. “you have my word, valentin,”

[oliver-sereno]

STARTER: Ollie and Eilonwy LOCATION: Eilonwy’s butterfly house STATUS: CLOSED

Ollie had been meaning to visit the newly opening butterfly house for weeks, but between everything going on with Roman and Layne’s family, and then Christmas and New Years, and his recent engagement, not to mention Layne’s progressing pregnancy, things had been nothing short of hectic. He had closed the shop for the day, doing a half-day on Tuesdays so that he could spend some time alone, and Layne had encouraged him to go and do something nice for himself, so there he was, looking up at the entrance of the butterfly house with wide eyes of excitement.

He stepped in tentatively, quietly, not wanting to disturb the naturally peaceful environment he was immediately enveloped in, his eyes falling on the figure of an elegant faerie he had yet to meet. He raised a hand and smiled in greeting, the sincerity of his greeting clear by the warmth in his eyes. “Hi… I’m Ollie. Is this your place? It’s wonderful,” he murmured, looking around with wide eyes.

@eilonwyj​​

[harmonicabreeze]

navegar não é preciso; já viver...

by basco | biografia,,, conexões,,, [working title],,,

A altivez dos passos diz que é nobre o sangue que corre em GALE EILONWY-WALSH. Sendo CALMO e DESLEIXADO, ele foi escolhido como hospedeiro e protegido de MANNANÁN MAC LIR. Aos VINTE E SEIS ANOS, cursa o NÍVEL I: DIAMANTE, com extracurriculares em DUELO MÁGICO, CLUBE DE JARDINAGEM e NATAÇÃO. Sua reputação é conhecida além das fronteiras, e dizem que se parece com DARREN BARNET.

RESUMO. background, personalidade, presente

FAMILIARMENTE,,,

Gale é o sétimo filho de uma longa linhagem de mulheres. Assim, sua gestação foi cercada de expectativas inicias; e seu nascimento, bom…, de desapontamentos póstumos. De infância marginal, quase esquecida e praticamente bastarda, ele se entregou à liberdade de se divertir nas cozinhas dos criados, de brincar com os animais da propriedade e de se encantar pelo mar.

PESSOALMENTE,,,

Gale é uma pessoa calma, alegre, inclusive desleixada. Ele sabe se portar bem, ele sabe ser elegante, ele sabe ter responsabilidades. Ele só evita tomar isso como uma obrigação e mais como sugestões de seu comportamento. Em seu tempo livre (e mesmo no tempo ocupado), pode ser visto com uma gaita em forma de concha marinha, simplória à primeira vista, mas muito bem cuidada. Ele gosta de cozinhar e de contato com o mundo natural.

ACADEMICAMENTE,,,

Após o primeiro ritual, Gale estabeleceu uma conexão com o deus Manannán mac Lir através de Tempestade, seu Seon. Normalmente, na bola de cristal, estão retratadas ondas revolvendo-se em si mesmas e raios cortando nuvens; curiosamente intensas, ainda que o semblante do khajol seja tranquilo. Para a surpresa de tantos (sua família principalmente), ele tem uma impressionante proeza em Duelos Mágicos, realizando tutorias individuais quando necessário. Junto dela, também vai ao Clube de Jardinagem e à equipe de Natação. Inicialmente, tentou realizar a extracurricular de Meditação e Harmonização Divina, mas acabou deixando-a por monotonia.

EXTRAS. tramas, estatísticas, curiosidades

CONEXÕES,,,

1. [working title] 2. [working list]

BIOGRAFIA,,,

1. [working title] 2. [working list]

CURIOSIDADES,,,

1. [working title] 2. [working list]

[lou-bonfightme]

One Foot in Sea and One on Shore || [Self-para]

thank you to @eilonwy-notjustgirl, @waitingona-mirabel, @sanmononoke, @veevacious,

@devyn-morey, @amelia-o-gabble, @oh-phineas, @ugly-drizella for letting me borrow your characters. 🧡

|| || ||

July First The beginning of the month had started fresh and frenetic to Lou. The summer was in full swing now. He had never cared much for summers, but he could admit there was a liveliness to the air that filled his lungs with something light. The sun was golden, the water of the lake blue, and everything had taken on a shimmery, translucent quality. As if a very fine gossamer had been laid over everything. It was sweet and nostalgic and beautiful. 

Even the little problems that sprouted up like wildflowers at the theatre couldn’t touch his good mood. 

In fact, he loved all those little problems, as he plucked each one and made it disappear. It was satisfying to get his teeth into the meat of something he could solve. There was nothing he could do to solve Raksha’s predicament or Dhaumya’s illness. He could not give Hades a respite from MAFIA, or the situation at the Hauntley, or the other going ons about town. 

But he could fix the set pieces that sat too crooked or repaint the parts that someone had done poorly. Each of these little changes soothed that hungry, angry thing inside of him that had felt more awake the last few months. He stayed late, he came in early, chasing that next piece of rightness in the universe that would clear the clouds. 

|| || ||

[link here]

|| || ||

[swynlake-rp]

OTMS

MUN: L  Members praised L’s complex and brilliant Hauntley Inn plot that reached its final chapter this month! As one member put it, “The whole Hauntley plot was beautiful and crafted so well that many people could get involved and show off their creations it was amazing to watch.” We couldn’t agree more! Kudos to L for some truly excellent plotting and writing. CHARACTER: WOLF! L wrote some truly beautiful self paras with Wolf recently, and we loved to see his unique role in the Hauntley Plot… and the spooky rom-com shenanigans of staying with the Qins (only in Swynlake, people!) Shoutout to our favorite baller #BallIsLife THREAD: TIPPING POINT! We loved to see how different characters jumped in and out of this thread, building up to the big moment of Vidia’s breakdown in front of Herc. A brought in so many characters and built up the stakes in such a compelling way– we love to see it! TASK: JASPER AND IAN’S POSTCARDS! Our members couldn’t pick just one! Both Jasper’s and Ian’s postcards got multiple noms, and we couldn’t agree more. We loved these peeks into the past, even if they tugged at the heartstrings a little :’)

BOARD UPDATES 

PETITION: Harsher punishments for litterers

TASKS

AUGUST ANNIVERSARY BIO: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀  WHAT’S IN YOUR BAG?: Make an aesthetic or a graphic showcasing what’s in your character’s bag (beach bag? Gym bag? School bag? Designer purse from Queen Bee Boutique?). Write 200 words describing it.

EVENTS

AUG 1 - AUG. 7: ALANA AND JAKE’S ENGAGEMENT PARTY! Come out to the Triton House to celebrate Alana and Jake’s engagement! All are welcome! Dress in cocktail fab and be ready for a ton of Instagrammable moments. Canonically on Aug. 3. 

AUG. 12 25: ANNIVERSARY EVENT! 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

AUG. 28 - SEP. 4: MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING OPENING NIGHT! It’s the big night! Come out! Canonically on Aug. 30

BIRTHDAYS

Beck Brooks – August 3

Tony Rydinger – August 5

Jasper Badun – August 5

Hades Acheron – August 8

Eilonwy Llyr – August 8

Lightning McQueen – August 11

King Magnifico of Rosas (Salvador Sanchez) – August 13

Moon Yeongtae – August 20

Darius Deamonne – August 21

Vala “Vee” Carrero-Noceda – August 27

Phineas Flynn – August 28

Mason "Dipper" Pines – August 29

Aurora Briar – August 31

[gre4tpretender]

EXTRA INFO

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 001. Manipula, usa y deshace a su antojo siempre que puede y le conviene. Ha demostrado ser la manera más efectiva de conseguir lo que quiere, cuando quiere y como quiere. Y él sólo quiere más. La máscara de niño bueno la usa frente a cualquiera, aunque Merlín tiene experiencia suficiente como para saber que su hijo ha roto más de un plato a sus espaldas.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀002. Su padre y él guardan una relación que, aunque antaño estrecha, actualmente está sujeta con pinzas tanto por la decepción como por la presión inconmensurable que le fue puesta sobre los hombros desde pequeño. Cualquier pequeña conversación entre ambos puede derivar en una discusión sobre ideales y responsabilidades, arrepentimientos y culpas, y aluviones de reproches. Esto, sin embargo, es guardado con recelo y no ha salido públicamente.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀003. Pese al punto anterior parece que la verdadera naturaleza de Rhysand es tabú para su padre, quien ya no sabe cómo intentar redirigir a su hijo más que tirándole (en palabras del joven) en la Academia a la espera de que todo se solucione, al parecer, con el poder de la amistad y la bondad.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀004. Su espíritu familiar ha adoptado la forma de una araña pequeña, una adorable evarcha jucunda de apenas 10 mms. Responde al nombre de Eilonwy. ¡Su pequeña princesa!

De color negra y con el lomo manchado de figuras marrones, sus patitas son tan minúscula y peludas que hacen cosquillitas. No es capaz de resistirse a mimarla con todas las comodidades que pueda darle. Le tiene mucho cariño desde pequeño y siempre va encima suya, sea escondida entre las mangas de su ropa, paseando entre sus dedos o en el cuello de su camisa. Además... es perfecta para escuchar sin ser visto todo lo que no debería llegar a sus oídos.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀005. Vive de libro en libro. Conversa con uno en las manos, come con otro al lado, duerme con uno arropándolo. Si pudiera, se ducharía leyendo.

Oh, está deseando poner sus zarpas en la biblioteca de Auradon...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀006. Aunque nunca puesto porque el orgullo se lo come vivo, siempre carga consigo un talismán que su padre le regaló de pequeño. Se trata de una pequeña bola de cristal, no mayor de un centímetro de diámetro, envuelta en un tosco trozo de cuero. En su interior, si miras muy fijamente, parece moverse algún tipo de fuerza espesa y neblinosa, tiñendo la esfera de cambiantes tonos verdes.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀007. Muy a escondidas, y con su familiar como único y más fiel cómplice, puede que esté estudiando cierto tipo de cosas que no debería...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀008. Merlín mantiene estrechas relaciones con una larga lista de brujas, magos y hechiceros, algo a lo que Rhysand lleva años intentando sacar tanto provecho como le es posible para su propio fin.

[waitingona-mirabel]

Rage | Self Para

Date: Autumn 2023 Featuring: The DnD crew (Dipper, Eilonwy, Ian, Tony, and an NPC) Warnings: Vague reference to fictional axe violence, extreme artistic liberties with the game Dungeons and Dragons, the author of this still doesn't really understand bonus actions but just go with it

Mirabel had been saving her rage for the entire session. She only had two slots for it at this point, as Ryna was still a first-level barbarian, and Mirabel was careful about not wasting those limited advantages that characters had at the beginning. She was also holding onto the bardic inspiration Apollo had given her— even though Dipper had encouraged her multiple times to use it. Mirabel just wanted it to be the right time.

Now, it seemed, was the right time. After a long battle with a group of mysterious tentacles, two members of the party were still grappled by one of the tentacles, while Val had to spend her turn trying to heal someone who was grievously injured. It was only Ryna, hacking away at the tentacle to little avail as Mirabel rolled nat one after nat one and holding onto just a few health points. Things were looking bleak.

And then the tentacle came for Ryna.

“I’m just saying, now would be a really good time to use a bonus action!” Dipper prompted, and Mirabel took a deep breath. She didn’t want to mess this up. What if she was the reason someone died!

(Okay, Dipper had said he probably wouldn’t let level one beginners die in such an early session, but still).

“I go into a rage!” Mirabel said, heart pounding as she could feel the pressure mounting. Dipper looked thrilled. Everyone else looked relieved. Finally, their faces seemed to say. But Mirabel did not feel relieved— she had two chances to get this right before she was out of rage slots. “Can you, uh, remind me what that does?”

“You have resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage, you get advantage on strength checks, and you roll with advantage on saving throws. Like right now, since the tentacle is coming after you!”

“Okay! Okay,” Mirabel said, furrowing her eyebrows and rolling to dodge the tentacle. Once- no luck. But on the second try, she succeeded! Mirabel cheered and pumped her fist.

“Describe it!” encouraged another party member.

“What do you mean?”

“Describe the rage! What is Ryna doing?”

Mirabel looked down at the book that the group had been passing around. It was turned, not-so-subtly, to the Barbarian class page. Probably because Mirabel hadn’t used her bonus action all session.

This was the reason Mirabel had felt drawn to the barbarian class from the beginning. To Ryna. 

For every barbarian, rage is a power that fuels not just a battle frenzy but also uncanny reflexes, resilience, and feats of strength.

“She’s thinking about her home. It’s… it’s on an island, so she’s seen these tentacles before, she’s had to fight them before. That’s how she knows how to get away from them.” Mirabel had only written up a rudimentary biography for Ryna and it didn’t include tentacles or an island, but she had to make this make sense, right?

Plus, she liked the idea of Ryna as someone who had grown up on an island. For some reason.

“But sometimes she wishes she hadn’t gotten away. That she’d stayed and fought them, instead of just running off with the first caravan she could find. And now’s her chance to do it. She never got that chance before. She’s angry with herself for running the first time, but she’s even angrier at the tentacles, because somehow after all these years they’re still here and hurting the people she cares about and now things might be changing but she just doesn’t know, she can’t be sure, and she can’t even—” 

For some reason, Mirabel’s voice cracked.

And then she looked around the circle and saw that everyone looked a bit concerned. That was… probably not what they meant when they said to describe the rage, was it?

Her face turned red. 

“Um, I mean, Ryna’s gonna go in with the axe and try and cut the other two free,” she said, realizing that was probably, actually what the question was. She rolled twice. Thirteen. Then twenty.

Dipper still looked a bit dumbfounded. “That’ll crit… uh, do we want to take a break?”

There was no typical celebration of an enemy vanquished, just some sober looks exchanged. Mirabel stared at her character sheet, mortified. 

“I’m gonna, uh, get some water,” Mirabel said, just to spare everyone. Maybe they’d have questions. Probably. They were good friends, and good party members, and they looked out for one another. But Mirabel got the vibe that the tension in the room might dissipate a little if she stepped out. Also, because she was afraid she was going to cry. For some reason. 

She found herself, inexplicably, typing out a message to Elena, and then she felt very silly and deleted it. The princess of Avalor did not need to know about Mirabel's weird DnD outburst, especially not when she was about to go fight some tentacles— er, evil sorcerers— herself.

Mirabel splashed some water on her face and took a deep, shaky breath. Rage only lasted one minute. Which felt like an eternity in DnD time. You could do a lot in a minute, and then it went away as quickly as it had appeared. "You're fine," Mirabel muttered to herself in the mirror. That was what she had to tell herself. And everyone else, if they asked.

Or maybe Mamá was right. As usual.

Nah. The rage was over. Well, for now.

[uffdah-riley]

Resignation || Self Para

Date: 10/07/2023 Featuring: A letter to Eilonwy & the rest of the football team @eilonwy-notjustgirl @ianthedisastrous @jere-me--oh-my TW: Mental Health Summary: Riley resigns from the intramural football team via email & the aftermath

To: eilllyr@pride.edu; ianlightfoot@pride.edu; jerjohnson@pride.edu; [ooc: insert all the NPCs here] From: rilanderson@pride.edu; Subject: Resignation Hey Gang, I hate to do this to us in the middle of a good season but I am gonna have to resign from the team. Some issues in my personal life are just gonna have to put extracurriculars on the back burner my dudes. I apologize for the inconvenience this poses to you all and hope that I can at least make it to a few games to cheer you all on. I wish you all the luck coming forward in the season, Riley Anderson

Sending that email was one of the hardest things Riley had needed to do in awhile. Which was silly, right? Quitting an intramural sports team should be easy! It was intramural! The games were, like, so not serious, right? Well, not to Riley. These were the things that Riley took personally. Other people quitting the team had always felt like a punch to the gut, a blow that came across personal and pointed even when it fully wasn't.

Sports were important to Riley, that competitive spirit burning brightly below the surface. It was a core tenet to Riley's persona and they felt a tear in their chest as they stared at their Sent box in their university email.

Riley didn't even bother waiting for sleep to climb up onto the roof. It was a bit trickier climbing out of the dormitory window but Riley had their nimble reflexes to thank for not falling. The cold autumnal air created goosebumps to raise across their skin and Riley allowed for the glamor to fall from their appearance as they stared up at the stars above.

"What am I doing?" Riley sighed. Their eyes traced over Lacerta—The Lizard—and Pegasus newly returned to the Northern hemisphere's sights. They didn't answer Riley's question, not that Riley had expected them to. They were balls of gas an unfathomable distance away. They couldn't possibly understand the plight of one lost elf in a world they hadn't been meant for.

Maybe they should talk to someone who could actually speak, not ancient constellations that had no eyes or ears to understand their wishes and struggles. So Riley pulled out their phone, dialing Meg's familiar number.

It rang...

And rang...

And rang...

They tried again.

It rang...

And rang...

And rang...

Nothing.

Maybe Riley was too.

[min-ji-min]

Location: St. John Museum Estate and Botanical Gardens With: @eilonwyj

It was a common occurrence for the young fae woman to be out when the day was nice and the sky lightly clouded but still allowing for a warm shine. With the dawning of the shift of season from winter to spring it meant more flowers were beginning to bud and some of the more special ones that could blossom during this transitional period were fragrant with their sweet scent and vibrant colours. So Min-Ji was there, ambling through the gardens, taking her time to enjoy being in nature because she often times spent so much of her days cooped up indoors either on her PC or babysitting that she relished these moments, a chance to disconnect from the buzz of electricity and really connect with her fae roots by being in nature. If it weren't still so chilly out, she might have even removed her shoes and traipsed through the paths barefoot, but since it was still considerably cold out for her, shoes remained on. Yet despite the cold, it didn't stop Min-Ji from wearing a skirt, she just paired her grey skirt with some nude leggings to give the appearance of being bare legged because for her, aesthetics were of the upmost importance.

So there she was, taking her time in the gardens, not paying much attention at all on where she was going or whether she'd already walked this way three or four times already until she realized she'd passed by the same woman about three or four times and that same woman hadn't seemed to have moved much at all. Min-Ji approached, her long black hair with the underlayer dyed red cascaded down over her shoulders as she leaned in, "What are you doing? Are you lost?" As if she herself hadn't been circling the same path.

[brynnsx]

O iniciar voo do dragão foi mais impactante do que o esperado; quando Lustray o fazia, era delicada. Não segurando forte o suficiente, para evitar cair, Brynn rapidamente passou os braços pela cintura masculina, notando apenas segundos depois o feitio. ❛ Me desculpe... eu só me desequilibrei. ❜ sentiu as bochechas corarem imediatamente, e apesar de estar envergonhada, acabou não se soltando até que o voo encontrasse um ritmo equilibrado e mais lento. Avisando Norvina de cima, a garota tinha um sorriso nos lábios. ❛ Como pode, não é? Um local dominado pelos vilões ser tão bonito? ❜ ela se referia às terras todas, pois dali conseguiam ver além da cidade e também além da Academia. Poder voar e ter aquela noção era sua parte preferida de ter ido para Tremerra, já que anteriormente, sua vida inteira era na floresta. Quando finalmente chegaram ao local específico, Brynn animou-se ao ver que realmente se tratava da construção abandonada antes escolhida na conta do evilgram. O dragão pousara no enorme gramado que existia em frente à construção, e a casa abandonada chamava atenção. ❛ O post dizia que uma vez pertenceu a uma princesa esquecida. Eilonwy, o nome dela, se não me esqueci... ❜ ela nem esperou por ele, tão curiosa que estava para adentrar o local. ❛ Dizem que ela foi sequestrada, outros dizem que ela sumiu por contra própria, outros dizem que ela virou uma vilã e carrega outro nome agora. Será que conseguimos encontrar pistas sobre aqui dentro? ❜ se perguntou, mas também deixando que ele respondesse, enquanto procurava uma abertura com a menor quantidade de cipós e galhos para que conseguissem entrar na construção.

- Sõvës. - Com um único impulso e um grandioso bater de negras asas, Blacksun alçou vôo agitando a terra, poeira e folhas secas das árvores ao chão. Como a brisa da insurgência era refrescante ao rosto. Tinha um sorriso nos lábios, parte por estar voando e parte por deixar tudo para trás – ainda que no fundo o ato o incomodasse. A visão de Norvina vista do alto era magnífica em uma mistura de verde e concreto, mas seu destino era ainda mais bonito e com um bônus intrigante. Blacksun batia suas asas  egruinha como de costume, porém agora não mais por carregar duas pessoas já que a última missão exigiu este esforço. Desde a fatídica, Blacksun se tornou mais rápido e mais forte, suas escamas estavam ainda mais lustrosas, seus músculos mais evidentes e estava setornando, cada vez mais, um belo dragão saudável. Como de costume perdeu a noção do tempo junto de seu companheiro e finalmente chegaram a tal ruína. - ACHO QUE É AQUI. - Tentou falar por cima do barulho do vento nos ouvidos. A fera alada diminuiu a velocidade pousando vagarosamente sobre um pequeno mar de grama. 

[harmonicabreeze]

biografia. background

Toda sétima filha deveria ser uma bênção. Em contrapartida, todo sétimo filho era um lobisomem. Gale era pior que tal monstro, pois nem lobo era.

Não bastasse ele ousar quebrar a linhagem, até então, quase estritamente feminina, Gale tivera a indecência de esperar até a sétima gestação de sua mãe, um número reservado apenas para os maiores e melhores augúrios. Na alta nobreza, havia muita expectativa sobre a família Eilonwy-Walsh pelo simbolismo e as confluências de energia que se esperavam para o ventre da matriarca.

Entretanto, postumamente a seu nascimento e consequente desapontamento, Gale fora tratado quase como uma criança bastarda. Tanta liberdade (ou descuido) lhe era dada que, às vezes, era mais fácil vê-lo sujo das fuligens da cozinha e dos açúcares de guloseimas que, como suas irmãs mais velhas, apertadas em vestidos bem ornados e afogadas por palavras de conhecimento. A elegância das aparências, primazia no porte da corte, fora substituída por lambidas de cachorro, correrias entre palácios, e canções de marinheiros.

Tom, tom, semitom… tom, tom, tom, semitom. Tom, semitom, tom, tom, semitom, tom, tom. Tom, semitom, tom, semitom, tom, semitom, tom.

De lábios em sua concha marinha, Gale fizera da gaita um dos únicos motivos de orgulho (no âmbito familiar, ao menos) até, curiosamente, receber o convite da Academia de Artes Mágicas Hexwood. Para a surpresa de tantos, não só a arte da artimanha, do sorriso e da escuta seletiva tinha o descontraído rapaz.

Sobrancelhas já foram levantadas quando fora conectado à divindade Manannán mac Lir, um deus supostamente de mais alta estirpe que necessária para aquele inconsequente projeto de bardo; e suspiros foram suspirados com as notícias da proeza duelista que ele demonstrara. Casualmente, talvez porque o tempo fosse só mais uma das travessias entre a vida e a morte, ainda se ocupava às tardes com o Clube de Jardinagem e a equipe de Natação, quando não se punha a estudar sob a luz ondular e o bravar do mar de seu Seon, Tempestade.

de gaita, a canção de mar, o sal da terra de estige, o véu entre dois mundos

Como o da confiança, o espelho das expectativas é difícil de se reconstruir trás estilhaçar-se. Ainda assim, pouco a pouco, sutilmente e quase sem querer, talvez os augúrios iniciais não estivessem tão errados em suas predições. Navegar não é preciso; já viver, sim.