#tófi

[sweet-fauna]

Fauna couldn't understand why anybody would want to read something they deemed mundane or pretentious - especially if they seemingly weren't deriving any joy from the experience. Perhaps there were other motivators for this stranger's decision to continue partaking in the book. Sure, they may not find it enjoyable, but perhaps they found it important in some other way that Fauna could not understand.

Fauna responded eagerly, without a moment's hesitation in her answer that she was most assured of. "Oh, quite the opposite. The chapter I'm reading currently explains in great detail something called electrochemistry. Can you believe that? The captain uses it in miraculous ways to make his underwater vessel run using only the elements of the sea! And the man wrote it in--" she flipped to the inner cover to make sure of herself, "--1869!"

She realized she was practically beaming at the rather reserved stranger and quickly calmed herself. "...it's fantastical, yes. But it's written by someone who was very much a realist. This Verne fellow really knew his science is what I'm getting at."

Intellectual

Well, that certainly was a way of putting it and an interesting choice of words from the other -who, even if confused by the premise, had at least tried to find something good to say about, if not the book, him.

For Tófi kindness was always to be returned in kind, even if that meant overlooking the other's possible shortcomings (of which there seemed to be many) or having to actively ignore other's nature (Magicks, he'd found, were keen of abusing other's generosity).

"It is terribly mundane" they replied, posture shifting ever so slightly as to give create the impression of approachability, of openness "some parts I find terribly pretentious, too"

No, irony wasn't lost on him, but that was his honest opinion.

"What do you like most about Verne, if you don't mind me asking? Is it the fantastical aspect of his tales?"

[menodoramoon]

A Letter to Torvald, Written in a Fine Hand.

Left personally in the mailbox with no return address. Though, it is not hard to discern the sender. Nor is it an unknown where the sender resides. June, I expect. July, realistically. Held tight from March, finally delivered whenever suits the receiver. A response to Morgenhistorier.

Torvald,

I think your new title comes easier now because I know the significance in a name. Because we are much the same and much different. Do you prefer it for the masking of your past? For the necessity of survival? Or is it a renewal for you? A new life?

People here call me Moon, as you do, because I find it easier than my long, pretentious family name. Have you ever liked it? Menodora. Moon? Måne?

I ask so many questions, it's rude, I know. I don't know how I can face you again, despite the fact that we've parted as friends. I had left us in an impossible situation when we said goodbye at the Moon Market. Or, better yet, when I refused to say it in the perfect words and left you stranded by fussing children and the organic oats.

Do not mind my sentimentality, I could never master it. In dreams and wakefulness still.

I imagine you may have spied me leaving this note, if you have even received it at all. I truly think myself foolish for craving and wanting things that are not meant to be satisfied. But you should know this by now. This desperation in me for closure that I'll never get.

I want to thank you for everything. Your patience, your understanding. I cannot muster words, usually, for what I feel.

Countesses don't feel, they act. As you well remember I was taught.

I am grateful for the renewal of our friendship, and grateful more for you as my friend.

All the love owed, all the thanks I cannot voice.

Best, and Kindly

Menodora Perhonen. Or Moon, if you prefer.

@ofseptarsis

[truitt-story]

relationship aesthetics: menodora "moon" butterfly-johansen & torvald "tófi" sethson ( @menodoramoon // @ofseptarsis )

"I believe continuing this tête à tête here would be ideal, old friend... wouldn't want to invite a monster home now, would you?"

"And who said I was inviting you into my home?"

"I see you have learned a lesson, after all. Good job, Countess"

[swynlake-rp]

"Sometimes your biggest threat is right under your nose."

FULL NAME: Tófi Sethson "Torvald “Tove" Sæther" BASED ON: Toffee of Septarsis (Star vs The Forces Of Evil) FACE CLAIM: Mads Mikkelsen PRONOUNS: He/him, they/them BIRTHDAY:  22 november 1965 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information 

Monster (mon-ster /  ˈmän(t)-stər)

Noun

1. : a being of abnormal form or structure

“In Norse mythology, Jörmungandr also known as the Midgard Serpent or World Serpent (Old Norse: Miðgarðsormr), is an unfathomably large sea serpent or worm who dwells in the world sea, encircling the Earth (Midgard) and biting his own tail (...)”

The first member of the Septarians, Seth, was said to have come into being sometime around the VII century -there’s only so many beings that could prove or disprove this, or any of Seth’s claims about his origins or nature.

It took around one century before Seth found more (albeit younger) beings like himself: a group that he would name ‘Septarians’ and which would eventually settle on what today is Mjaunie, Denmark.

Once upon a time, Magicks were revered as Gods

Once upon a time, Mundus were meant to serve the Gods.

Once upon a time, those who were neither Gods or humans were called ‘monsters’

Septarians thus became known as monsters.

2: one who deviates from normal or acceptable behavior or character

Immortal: 

Adjective-  exempt from death, able or tending to divide indefinitely

Time continued its natural circle, but the Septarians found themselves completely unable to die, thus becoming trapped into the cyclical nature of conflict and conquest, of humanity overcoming those who had been previously revered as Gods and slowly, but surely, taking their place.

Septarians saw Earls come and go. Kings rise and fall from power, Nations be born and die.

Until one day, the Magick Perhonen lineage came to Mjaunie.

The Perhonen would establish themselves in what used to be ‘monster’ lands, promptly turning them into ‘something more useful’: a human-magick settlement amongst whom they would reign as Countesses.

Slowly, but surely, the ‘monsters’ were either kicked out of their lands or assimilated into the newly founded County of Maujnie as third-class citizens: things to be feared, to be wary of, an ugly reminder of uncivilized times.

Septarians were divided into two classes: those who resisted the occupation and those who went along with it.

Tófi, “son” of Seth, would eventually join the latter group: going so far as offering his services as an historian and advisor for the Perhonen dynasty -his function for the reigning family being that of a ever-suffering teacher to their youngest, parroting Mjaunie’s new history for their amusement.

3: a threatening force 

 Regicide: 

Regicide is the killing of a monarch or sovereign of a polity.

Things did not get better for ‘monsters’.

Generations came and went, the Perhonen solidifying their power generation after generation -generation after generation pushing ‘the unwanted’ away from their old lands, transforming them into their own.

Seth’s distrust of the dynasty finally seemed justified: everything he’d predicted had come to pass and his push back, his resistance, towards the colonists eventually became more solid: a rebellion.

A rebellion Tófi would eventually join, going as far as being the one to deliver the killing blow to then Grevinde Comitessa “Comet” Perhonen during a what had been meant to be Peace Banquet.

This act would force his most cherished friend and past student, Menodora “Moon”, to strike him down in turn, using an unknown kind of magic that somehow managed to partially nullify Tófi’s regeneration abilities, which then allowed her to vanquish him from the County. 

4: one that is highly successful 

Philanthropist: 

Noun -  a person who seeks to promote the welfare of others, especially by the generous donation of money to good causes.

The now-exiled man then wandered across Denmark, playing along the farce others had created a long time ago, he’d pretend to be one of them, a man that tried to be better, more civilized, than any Magick or Mundus; Kinder, smarter, all around superior.

Thus Torvald Sæther was born: Lawyer, Philanthropist, unexplainably rich and knowledgeable of Denmark’s history, the youngest of a line of men oddly similar to one another and who’d never been seen in the same room at the same time.

Torvald Sæther: Silent Magick hater. Torvald Sæther: Silent Mundus hater.

Torvald Sæther: the one who had come to the realization that Magic had been the problem all along, that that had been the tool with which his whole, the life of his people, had been ruined with -and who made, in turn, his life mission to destroy back.

✓  intelligent, courteous, methodical

✖  brutally honest, scheming, resentful

Character Suggestions

None

Current Relationships

None

Possible Relationships

Click here! 

Magical Abilities

Septarian – has “imperfect immortality” and regeneration

[ofseptarsis]

Silence crept in, for a second, the other seeming lost in thought.

And while Tófi generally only cared about other's feelings when they were directly related to themself, they figured that taking the fall for this faux-pass would be the best way to go.

"It is fine, I was, after all, the one that did not think introduce himself before taking a seat and starting a conversation-" they said, placing a hand on the other's to reassure him that the whole thing wasn't a big of a deal as they might think, then echoing their name "-Darius"

It was a nice name, for a man that was mostly good, whose most of his faults were rather...endearing, who had potential to be great (who could become a wonderful tool).

"Gusteau's it will be, then. My treat. But..." they paused as they grabbed their cellphone and opened they Contacts list, then handing the whole thing over to Darius in order for them to write their number down himself "...I will have to ask you to call me either Tove, or Tófi, in return"

They then pause, looking at Darius as he types his number.

"It is less stuffy" he jokes "and, sure, like I said before, you name any time and I will be there"

@darius-dues

He! Didn't! Ask! For! His! Name!

At this point, the internal screaming was drowning out any other thought in his head. Yes, he knew he'd been out of the game for a bit, and was likely rusty. But now he had to question is he truly knew what he was doing at all. If it was too late to back out. If perhaps he should just save what little dignity he had left and remain a celibate loner forever.

Or maybe he could get over himself and just say his name! Despite the inner turmoil, he still gave a casual smile. "My apologies. A pleasure to meet you, Torvald. My name is Darius."

He could turn tail and run. Say he had to get to something urgent and merely "forget" that he'd made the offer in the first place.

"I've heard great things about Gusteau's," he said, despite himself.

"Do you have a scroll? Er, or a "cellular phone", as is more common here? The technology is cross compatible, as I've learned. The magic of science and, well, magic."

Okay, he needed to stop talking now.

"We can exchange numbers and coordinate something?" He offered.

@ofseptarsis

[menodoramoon]

falsk håb | Regency

Summary: Hope & Mourning go hand in hand. Swyn Regency AU. <3 Or, Moon + "Childless Mothers" + Cycles. Characters: Regency!Moon, Regency!Tófi, Regency!Aurora Content Warnings: Infertility?? Words: 962 Read: Doc below the Cut.

[vidiaofthewind]

You're Not Alone {Tofi & Vidia}

Vidia Makes use of her one call.

@ofseptarsis

Set: March 12

Previous Reading:

Bubbling to the Surface Like a Tornado From Blood to Dust Silence

VIDIA

Vidia was in trouble, a lot more than she should be in, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have resources. Even if those resources had told her time and time again to be patient. To not be impulsive unless you had a back up plan.

Well her back up plan hadn’t worked and now she was calling someone to help figure a way out without Max breathing down her spine.

Calling from the police’s line she just hoped they picked up.

“Hi- so, long story short I got arrested.”

TÓFI

‘Long story short, I got arrested’

That was a strong opening line if Tófi had ever heard one; Strong, to the point.

“I might need to hear the long version of the short story” they said, using the little pause between his words and the other’s to try and guess exactly who was calling and what exactly could be the problem “eventually”

Feminine voice. To the point. Potential criminal tendencies..

Ah.

Vidia.

“I am glad that you remembered my number, my dear girl. And hope that you remember the other things I have told you -like not speaking to anyone until your lawyer is there” which, chances were, would be them “and to not consent to searches just yet”

They paused, moving from their place to search for their shoes, planning to get ready in case she really needed them there.

“Did they give you the chance to write down the arresting officer’s info? Are you ok?”

VIDIA

Vidia shrugged though the other could not see it. she wasn't exactly thinking straight so she was glad they could tell who she was.

She wasn't going to remember to introduce herself.

“ Maximus. I don't have much else. I just know of him. Do you want the long story? Am I supposed to even say It out loud? Right now it's on breaking and entering and destruction of property and I'm fine. Kind of. I - I” Vidia stammer. “I wasn't planning for any of this.”

TÓFI

“Maximus” Tófi echoed as they made a mental note about the name -Swynlake being a relatively small Town meant that there could only be so many people with that name and line of work, it would, most likely,  take him a couple of questions to the right people to get to know who this person was.

Now, onto the other things…

“Breaking and entering where?” they asked, squinting, even if the phone did not communicate that “was it an open place, a public space…? Because you can’t break in and enter to either of those”

‘And I don’t think you could be dumb enough to enter private property’ was left unsaid.

“...and destruction of property too? My dear girl, it sounds like you were having way too much reckless fun” they tried to joke “Everything will be fine, just try and answer the questions and I will try and make things right”

VIDIA

“Town Hall. And to be completely fair the item that's broken is like a glass case.” Tofi had a way of making it seem lighter. Easier and Vidia wanted to give them the knowledge that would make this go away.

She didn't want to go to jail for a crown the town had already lost. She just was the one to find out.

She honestly should be thanked that she found a weakness in town halls security.

TÓFI

Town Hall

Not necessarily a public space, but a Government Building, instead. That made things a little more complicated than a simple ‘breaking and entering’... but also made the charges potentially less scary for Vidia.

“They are trying to scare you, dear girl” Tófi said, tone as even as usual “the most they can charge you with right now is, basically, vandalism”

Which, again, wasn’t as scary as a felony (that could be a potential result of this all) or had as much of an intimidating name as criminal damage, which would be the correct term for it all .

“And that is not scary at all, is it?” they continued “It incurs fines and maybe restitution, which we can afford no problem”

They paused, then added:

“I promise things will be fine, Vidia” they continued

VIDIA

Well if they were trying, they were succeeding. Vidia was scared. Scared she Would be treated like nothing. Thrown Into a box and forgotten.

Because that's what humans did. 

Even when they preached justice. Preached to be magick friendly. 

She barely heard or recognized the stress on the we comment.

Taking a deep breath, Vidia glanced back to The door where Max would be waiting.

She didn't know how to ask for help. She didn't know how to not handle things on her own.

You could only rely on yourself. Unless you were in a fairy Hollow but even now there were parts of her that doubted it.

“Could you help me?” Vidia asked softly. Her voice losing its edge. There was no pride or fight in that ask.

Just a girl that had gotten in over her head.

TÓFI

“You don’t have to ask for my help, Vidia” Tófi said, voice softening as an echo of hers “it is a given that I will help you whenever and in whichever way I can”

They had seen a lot of potential, of talent, in Vidia from the very first moment they have crossed paths and had exchanged thoughts on Mundus and they hypocritical ways -Tófi knew that they had stumbled into someone who could potentially make a change for good, someone slightly different to the other Magicks, someone who could even be, if push came to shove, a potentially useful tool for they own purposes-

-but right now? Right now this was simply Vidia, nothing more than a young woman, at her most vulnerable.

And they wouldn’t let her down.

“Ok. I am going to spout some mumbo-jumbo right now, so bear with me” they announced “What you did could be considered criminal damage, since that definition covers forced entry into a property and destruction of items belonging to another; It sounds scary but really isn’t, think of it as mere vandalism, as I told you”

They paused, let things settle down for a moment, then continued.

“I don’t believe that the damage you caused could possibly be more worth more than £5000, which means that we would only have to pay a level 4 fine and restitution, but that’s all” they didn’t think that the Town would dare imprison someone over this kind of thing, specially not a Magick, of all people “The fine will be…”

Around £2,500, being a level 4. But…

“...my problem to deal with, ok? Try to relax, my dear girl, I might not be able to defend you as a Lawyer right now, not strictly, but I will guide you through this”

VIDIA

They were going to help and while she was sure it was going to cost if she had to pay something she had worked long enough at the gym. She had some money saved up she could use.

She would be fine.

She had to be fine.

Nodding once more, Vidia took another deep breath. They were helping and that would be invaluable. They knew the system, Vidia knew that, they were willing to help her get around permits. They would be willing to help get around this if they could.

“Thank you.” Vidia mumbled holding onto the phone tightly. There wasn’t much else to say. She only could wait.

TÓFI

“Don’t mention it” Tófi said, smiling at the phone even when they knew such a thing wouldn’t make any difference.

“I will keep an eye on you and the case” they continued “just…remember to not let them scare you: you are and will be fine, they can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, nor can they hurt you, they are only human”

This would be a nice moment for Tófi to remind her of all the other chats about her rights, about the little big arguments she could potentially use when in trouble (some racially-centered and that could be bullet-proof when used correctly) but….they trusted Vidia’s instincts, that she’d learned everything them well and would know when to use everything -she was smart, she could be trusted with her own safety for a little while.

“I will be there in half an hour”

[veevacious]

Vee nods. Right. Okay, so oils, probably. Vee wonders if they could steal some time to work on it in the art studio between classes. But, then again, they could work on it late at night at home, too?

"I'll get your approval on the initial draft, then," Vee says. "And then I can choose based on what it is you like? Cost-wise, oils would be more, but I'm a fairly inexpensive artist. Still a student and all."

Which was true. Vee wouldn't completely undervalue themselves, but they were no professional. They were in school for this! So, they could ask for about the minimum that was expected of them and still feel like they were being fairly compensated.

"With a photo reference, I'm sure I can get you that portrait quickly. But I still don't mind trying without a photo if you're not opposed to the description." Vee smiles. "That sounds really nice, though. A portrait-- I feel like people don't commission as many portraits these days. At least traditionally. It all feels digital. Not that it's bad."

Vee had done a fair share of digital art in their life!

Art was a thing that just, somehow, clicked. Back in Gravesfield, Manny and Camila encouraged Vee to learn to do. Be. Live as a normal teenager. So art classes as an elective and they took off from there.

Besides the enjoyment of doing art and making others happy, there was the fact that it seemed to be worth getting to know Tófi. For multiple reasons. He was interesting. He was also -- like Vee thought -- possible like her.

"Right now? Just the references. And, if you wanted to send me-- uh--" Scribbled down on a sticky note that Vee had pulled out of their bag... a sketched up mockup of a business card. (A draft for their graphic design class from before.) "You can email me here, and -- uh -- we can talk about pricing. Like I said, I'm pretty affordable, since I'm a student. I don't want you to feel taken advantage of."

@ofseptarsis

Drawn from Life || Open !

[oh-phineas]

Friday, November 24 -- Relationship Aesthetic: Make three different aesthetics for three different relationships (Romantic! Platonic! Sexual! Familial! Adversarial! Any type of relationship or combination)  in the RP – only one of them can be yours! Try to spread it across at least six different muns. 

menodora "moon" butterfly-johansen & tófi sethson

jessie wright & bullseye stoddard

willow park & darius deamonne

[swynlake-rp]

Happy SwynWriMo Time!

OTMS

MUN: S! We loved Willow’s Little Shop of Horrors-inspired plot this month, just in time for Spooky Season. S’s creativity never fails to blow us away, whether it’s her unique plots, her amazing creations in the #arts-and-crafts channel, or her frankly incredible memeing abilities. Yay S! CHARACTER: TANYA! There are two reasons Tanya gets character of the month. One, it was October and she’s a ghost. And two, more importantly, she’s taken some massive strides this month and her story is reaching a point where we’re all ready to grab the tissue box. Tanya’s really come a long way! THREAD: CAS FORTUIT || TOFI & MOON! This thread has everything– drama, political intrigue, complicated histories between two powerful characters. Members were on the edge of their seats for this one, and we couldn’t agree more. TASK: BOTH OF WOLF’S TASKS! Shoutout to L for taking on both tasks with Wolf this month! Wolf’s Evil Twin task gave us another fascinating peek into his family history and what could have been, while “Der kapitän” gave us all the feels. As one member put it, “L really used not a lot of words to convey so much story telling, really set the scene and really got me invested in Wolf and the Captain’s relationship.” Nice work!

BOARD UPDATES 

CHAPTER THREE SHUT DOWN: Chapter Three was shut down due to a strange interpretation of a common ordinance regarding pests and infestations– the inspector included ‘ghosts and spirits’ in his report. The inspection was a surprise. All business inspections are handled by an official under the supervision of the Mayor’s Office… (OOC Information about this plot will be found in town-plot-updates!)

TASKS

SWYNWRIMO!: Either THREE of the tasks, or one of the writing tasks listed at 800 WORDS (This is for those who want a character! We encourage everyone to participate in SwynWriMo of course, but you do not need to complete the entire challenge to apply for a new character.)

EVENTS

NOV. 1 - 6: MADRIGAL DIOS DE LOS MUERTOS CELEBRATION Come out to Casita to learn about the cultural celebration of Dia de los Muertos. Eat food, bring photos of deceased loved ones for the community ofrenda, cut out papel picado, and decorate sugar skulls. Canonically takes place on Nov. 1 NOV. 15 - 22: CHARITY FUNDRAISER FOR AVALOR: Join Crown Princess Elena at town hall for a charity gala to raise money for three organizations benefiting Avalorans displaced by the political instability in the country. There will be Avaloran food, dancing, and information about Avaloran culture and history! SOMETIME IN NOVEMBER…. FIRST SNOW!!!! We will announce it in Discord, and then it’s game time!

BIRTHDAYS

Characters:

Pacifica Northwest – November 1

Angel Milano – November 1

Howl Pendragon – November 8

Mitte Esseman – November 8

Reba Stray – November 9

Ryeo "Robbie" Hwan – November 10

Lilith Clawthorne – November 12

Aquata Triton – November 13

Cheralynne Alexander – November 14

Princess Elena Flores of Avalor – November 16

Evangeline Davies – November 18

Paul "Doc" Hudson – November 18

Torvald “Tófi" Sæther – November 22

Penny Forrester – November 23

Toby Determined – November 25

Jessie Wright – November 28

Flynn Rider – November 29

PLOT ROUND-UP! 

RISE OF RYNA THUNDERFIST

Characters and Muns Involved: Mirabel, Julieta

Plot: Mirabel leaving her DnD Beyond character sheet on the kitchen table has some unexpected consequences. Specifically, Mirabel having to explain her character Ryna Thunderfist, a barbarian, to her mother, a violence-wary parent. A fun, mostly lighthearted thread that touches on Mirabel and Julieta's relationship and softly grazes some Madrigal Family Issues.

TERROR AT THE HAUNTLEY

Characters and Muns Involved: Snow, Wolf, Gem

Plot: The Hauntley Inn is still under attack by a mysterious entity! 

HIGH PRIORITY SECURITY ISSUE

Characters and Muns Involved: Eboshi, Thomas, Ashitaka , Hades, Belle

Plot: Eboshi is investigating Ashitaka

CAS FORTUIT

Characters and Muns Involved: Tófi, Moon

Plot: A lot can happen in a lifetime, especially for a near-immortal like Tófi. A lot can happen in a lifetime, especially for Moon who feels like her life has been thoroughly separated into a before and after. Moon and Tófi meet 36 years and a regicide later: feelings are had (said feelings being passive-aggressiveness), a discreet verbal fight ensues, and who knows what might happen next? -- Certainly not J and T who have no control over how petty their muses are.

BREWING CRASHER

Characters and Muns Involved: Hera, Reza

Plot: Hera’s ex-husband is back in town! He showed up announced whilst Hera and reza were working, and he claims to be here in business, but who can really be sure…

THE ONE WHERE VIXEY HAS A DATE

Characters and Muns Involved: Vixey, Phil, Al, Jun, Tiana

Plot: When Al asked if the rest of the gang (Vixey, Jun, Tiana) wanted to join in on his and Nora’s Halloween costume, Vixey lied–saying she already had a costume with someone else. She hopped onto to Twitter where she found Phil and they decided to go together. Now, Tiana is confused why Vixey didn’t tell her about Phil, Al and Jun are concerned about Phil’s reputation…

BRUNCH BABES BAIL

Characters and Muns Involved: Snow, Isabela, Dolores, Elena , Ting-Ting, Genevieve

Plot: The Brunch Babes decided on the Spice Girls ((Posh (Snow), Scary (Elena), Sporty (Isabela), Baby (Dolores), Ginger (Genevieve))) for Halloween. Ting-Ting opted out of the group costume to stay home and pass out candy. However, just a few days before Halloween, Snow backed out–citing too much going on at work, leaving the other girls to scramble for new costumes.

[vonflauschigkatze]

Headshot from user Teratophile on Ferzu

[swynlake-rp]

"Public displays of affection aren't a Butterfly virtue."

FULL NAME: Menodora Eline Perhonen BASED ON: Moon Butterfly (Star vs The Forces Of Evil) FACE CLAIM: Eve Best PRONOUNS: She/Her BIRTHDAY:  31 December 1971 CURRENT STATUS: Taken

Character Information || CW: death, assassination, gore ||

Komtesse Menodora Perhonen was born under a Blue Moon, which was just as well for her family as they had a habit of giving newborns a celestial-themed family name. To be called Moon was to be a good student, in the good graces of her mother and mentors in sorcery or lessons. On the other hand, to be called her given name, outside of any formal context, was a sign of failing or trouble. It was a shame, really, to feel so ashamed of your own first name. (Surely, that couldn’t cause issues with one’s sense of identity.)

Her mother was a brave warrior, people told her. But Moon doubted that greatly. Her mother was a peaceful person and Moon was highly doubtful that the Grevinde Comitessa “Comet” Perhonen was capable of any amount of violence, let alone use magic for battle. And still, it was in their blood to participate in such a bloody ritual. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that power, wanting instead to pursue something more peaceful – an air or wood magic, or light or illusions.

Everyone always said her mother was too soft, too careful. She was “Comet, the Chef” not anything battle-worthy like the Advisors – Family friends that would be called the Mjaunie High Commission – of their County would want. She was a wasted battle mage. Wasted potential. Her family spoke ill of her aspirations while praising the things about her that made her the perfect local, social politician. It was almost forgiveness enough for straying from her battle-ready lineage. “Comet, the Chef, only willing to focus on her Kitchen Witchery, which would get her absolutely nowhere.” Actually, it may have been what got her killed.

As peace talks were failing in Mjaunie, Comitessa decreed that a feast for all should be held under the banner and mission of peace. She would personally see that every culture and person felt welcome in their home. Instead, it was a bloody murder that took place – an assassination, technically, on political grounds. Everything changed after that point, even if Moon didn’t see it yet.

She was meant to take over her mother’s title and her mother’s land (a large, resource-rich County and estate in Mjaunie, Denmark) because this subsect of Mjaunie culture wanted to be based on matriarchy over patriarchy. She may have wanted to take on the title of a Grevinde, but those close family and friends, the High Commission in positions of advisors, had her title declared as a Countess. The shift towards an assimilated Mjaunie – farther from the older traditions – was more and more underway. It was questioned by even the locals who had opposed her family’s way of life. But… it wasn’t just the Perhonens who were assimilating… they were just the most prominent family, right?

It was at this point in time that Menodora knew what she had to do to keep the people of Mjaunie at ease. She had to take down the person who had caused such social unrest – the assassin who had taken her mother’s life. A monster, both morally and by blood. Only, it was more complicated than that simple explanation. She had to take down someone she had seen as a friend.

Whatever her relationship with Tófi Sethson had been, it was over. Had he been an outside, contracted advisor for the Perhonens? Had he been a tutor to the young Menodora? Had they been friends, sharing ideas? Had he believed in her in a way that it felt that no one else did? She wouldn’t answer. It was clearly the grief taking over.

Their battle was ill-advised but still occurred. After a short period of grieving and funeral rites, Moon had decided that she needed to calm the calamity in her newly inherited County. In order to learn the necessary magic that would hopefully bring peace to her people, Moon made a deal with a less-than-credible source to learn magic that could potentially restore peace to the County. She brought him a feast, similar to what her mother had tried to offer, and they sat and spoke of their terms. No one from Mjaunie saw what she did to him that made him falter – what made him, even temporarily, retreat.

All they knew was that his severed ring finger was kept in a jar on her sil, her saying that the power that it held was too much to let back into the world. She worried he would take it back, cause more havoc, and all their friendship and fallout would be for nothing.

It was shortly after this fallout that she would develop feelings for River Johansen, a local boy who admired her greatly and Moon admired in turn. They would grow together, with him supporting her through her rigorous sorcery and political studies while also encouraging her to not lose her fun-loving side. He didn’t want to see her too caught in the grief that her younger self had endured. As she was more serious and he was more whimsical, the two balanced each other out nicely.

They married close to the end of her first bout of studies, though fertility struggles caused her to have her daughter a bit later than she had expected. Still, she went about choosing a name, calling her daughter Stella, or “Star.” It was tradition, after all.

Being the mother to a child who was so like and unlike herself was daunting. Suddenly her title of “Moon the Undaunted” felt like a joke. How was she going to handle a rambunctious and headstrong daughter? Had she been that way? Would Moon have been more wild and fun if her circumstances had been different and there hadn’t been a civil war in her childhood? It eventually became clear that Mjaunie wasn’t the best place for her daughter, and so… Moon and River sent her away.

With a heavy heart, Moon encouraged her daughter to find a new place to find and be herself, while Moon kept the books and hoped her daughter would mature enough to come back to inherit the County of Mjaunie and the Moors. The separation lasted only so long, as Moon became interested in what was beyond Mjaunie. She had traveled a few times, seeing different countries and Counties, but being a Countess was a big responsibility. She had the Commission to please. They felt much more like a board for approval than family friends, though. Moon nearly never left home by this point. It was far too dangerous, The High Commission told her.

Eventually, knowing that there was something missing and ill-fitting about the life she’d always known, Moon said it was her turn to pursue something outside the County in Mjaunie. She had decided, ultimately, that she would search for truth and knowledge and bring it back. If she had been lied to all her life, she wanted to know. She no longer wanted to perpetuate a lie herself.

This led to some contention with the High Commission, the locals, and her husband. While they continue to encourage each other platonically, their marriage is in a state of limbo as she rediscovers herself. And where would she rediscover herself?

Moon made a motion to leave and research more about the world outside of the Moors. While the High Commission initially opposed this, they eventually – for unknown reasons – relented to Moon’s request. The family estate, vast in wealth and resources, was used to aid Moon in starting life anew in a new place.

She settled in Swynlake for two reasons. One, she felt that the policies and general acceptance would aid her in her quest for knowledge. Two, it’s where she’d sent Star.

Years of misconceptions and lies had threatened to tear their relationship apart. Maybe it was possible to patch it again. Although, it would take much more than a simple chat to get the two to reconcile. And maybe more than just research for Moon to reconcile her understanding of herself, her family, and her legacy.

Nowadays, Moon spends her time surveying her neighbors and researching perspectives on different aspects of the magickal, monstrous, and metaphysical. Besides that, she’s working on making friends and regaining some social skills lost in her Countess upbringing. Ultimately, she wants what’s best for her people and for Star.

✓  Well-meaning, refined, quick-witted

✖  haughty, stubborn, shortsighted

Character Suggestions

None

Current Relationships

Stella "Star" Butterfly (Daughter)

Possible Relationships

Click here! 

Magical Abilities

Sorcery – Elemental: aether & fire (shadow/light) Descended from Shapeshifters

[doc-hudson]

See, this whole thing is a little complicated and the more Paul thinks about it, the more he feels like this whole thing is rather pathetic.

Was it wrong to care for a dream, a literal dream, so much? Technically nothing about it had been real, technically it all had faded away once the last person had woken up in the morning and there was nothing substantial to get out of any of it; It had been a collective illusion and nothing more, but-

-it couldn't just mean nothing. The connections he'd made still felt somewhat real, caused a real ache on his chest when he thought about them all: about half brothers and sisters and friends in arms that technically didn't exist but had made him happy even if only once upon a dream.

She says she's fine.

And she looks fine: not particularly nostalgic or overly attached to all that had happened, except maybe for the way her mind, her voice, trails off for a second there when talking about the things she apparently seemed to miss.

'-probably just me being nostalgic for a life where I don't pay rent.'

It is a good excuse, yeah, but Paul can see it for what it is: an excuse.

But he knows better than to try and push things, specially when talking to a stranger.

'What about you? Are you doing okay? First dream, or...'

"'s it too obvious?" he jokes, giving her a (not so) guilty smile as he does so "Yeah, I somehow managed to avoid previous ones but I guess my luck ran out"

Swynlake had won that round. And, luckily, this dream hadn't been a particularly crazy one all things considered: sure, there had been a big battle amongst Gods and things had seemed bleak for a second there at the end (every story, he guessed, needed a dramatic plot twist and that one had been no exception) but it hadn't been...mind-shattering bad, it hadn't turned into a nightmare -so he'd counted it as a win, a 'I guess it was a good one' on the scale of Swynlake Dream Fuckery.

'Kind-hearted big-brother figure. The sort who listened to all the Hermes' kid woes'

"Ah, yeah..." Paul mutters, making a face at that, feeling...somewhat guilty "yeah, no. That was just dream me, real me 'sn't actually- the only thing soft 'bout me 's my hair"

Real him wasn't...that socially inclined.

"Yeah, was outta Town durin' the last one, you see" he 'explains', and-

-something clicks in his mind.

Her name is Majke.

It's familiar -real-world familiar, not only a dream-familiar: he's heard that name before.

But, where?

"What 'bout you? It doesn't seem like 't's your first Rodeo. You a native, magically-inclined or just couldn't care less 'bout oniric whatevers?"

@majkemaniiia

The Unfortunate Experience of Being Known || Doc & Magica

[ofseptarsis]

Din, for evigt || &Moon

Date: 10 - 12 of November, 2023

TW: memories of violence/blood, regicide.

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

The entire room was everything Moon did not know. Or, perhaps that was a simplification. The room was a gala in support of a displaced people. That was something Moon knew well enough. Maybe she should have hosted one for her own displaced people, if not for the fact that she may have been doing the displacing… It doesn’t matter. She would reckon with those feelings later. She would reckon with those feelings when they collided with her carrying a glass of pretentious bourbon. What. Ever.

Is that the intonation of the children these days? Something and a bag of chips?

She’s trying to keep her head high. Look dignified. Have an entire look about her that said she knew where she belonged and this was it. She was supportive. She didn’t need anything. She didn’t—

…

Well, it wasn’t the bourbon in his hand down her front, it was her own glass of white wine spilled down her dress. Moon closes her eyes. She has to steady herself. One, she is a woman of grace and nobility and she would not succumb to disorder. Two, when she opens her eyes, she knows she’s already going to be annoyed to find him there. The sight of him had been what distracted her. And now, here she was, poise teetering on the edge of now.

-

Tófi

Now, this was far from the first Gala Tófi had been (if indirectly) invited to since his exile from Mjaunie -they’d even gotten somewhat accustomed to the idea of mostly useless celebrations: of opportunities for networking and the rejoicing of the higher echelons of society hidden under the guise of philanthropy.

This, Avalor’s, was a cause familiar to Tófi and yet...not really: They held no sympathy for the fallen Monarchy, nor for the displaced Princess; They, however, harboured a deep sense of kinship towards the common Avalorian: to those that had been torn apart from their land, from their people, their lives.

If to help them they had to pretend to tolerate the presence of royalty for a night, then they would -even if some alcohol was absolutely needed to lift their spirits, and it seemed like they weren’t the only person that felt that way, anyways: one of the most illustrious members to the ball, Mjaunie’s Countess herself, also held dearly to a drink, but so deep in thought she was than that when push (heh) came to shove she couldn’t react in time to avoid her drink being spilled.

They should be better than this, Tófi knew, but a chuckle escaped them still.

“Countess” he tutted, in fake disapproval “It is quite early still and yet it seems like the alcohol has gone over your head. How unfortunate”

-

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

That cheek. Menodora’s trying to steady her composure, but the fact that his voice is just That Way? Condescending and rude and buoyant with that ever-so-superior air. She feels her own cheeks blooming red.

“Dear Mr Sethson,” she says, knowing him by far too many names to keep up appearances, “I apologize for my misleading behavior. It’s not alcohol that’s clouded my mind but thought. There are quite a few things to think about at an event like this, wouldn’t you say?”

It’s childish, she knows, but she glances at him in a somewhat side-manner. They’re nearly at the same height, though she’s got heels. Then again, maybe he’s got lifts. Menodora remembered how tall he always appeared to her as a child, and now look at them. Equals in some way. Ha.

“And I can’t seem to imagine how my dexterity has faltered on me now. Besides, you’ve said it yourself.” She glances at his hand, at the markings of her own mistakes, “I’ve always had a steady aim.”

-

Tófi

“Dear Måne” they continue, amused smile not faltering for a second ”There are, indeed, many things to mull over when it comes to Avalor, from the strife of those displaced to the...situation of those that either fortunately or unfortunately remain there”

Nobody seemed to mind the latter, it seemed. Everything appeared to be oh-so-very-focused on those that had managed to escape the conflict, those who clung still to their Princess, their Royal Family.

But what use were they to the common folk, besides for organizing fancy parties with gods-knows what money? Why did people cling still to them, was it sunk-cost fallacy, sentimentalism…?

(Sentimentalism, they whisper under their breath as the realization that she can stare them in the eyes now, that her glance feels closer than ever-)

“Really now” they say, eyebrows raised and voice tight once she finishes her phrase and her gaze finds his right hand “that is yet another unfortunate thing, then. You know what they say, my Countess-”

They step closer.

“-’If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared’. It seems like someone’s mind was wandering too, back when she was supposed to be studying Machiavelli, hm?”

-

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

Since when had she grown self-conscious of her Danish? She tries to hide behind a tight smile, trying to push away the way he uses her title and familiarity. Trying to push away the insinuations that Moon felt all too deeply in her heart. They’re his burdens that he’s forcing on her. That must be it.

“What was that?” It’s a whisper, too. Almost mocking. God, she was in her fifties and still that urge to needle at the beast was so present… so persistent. It was nostalgia at this point. The dull pain of a memory. Was sentimentalism just another form of nostalgia? A way to get hurt?

She doubts that Tófi will dignify her remark.

He steps closer and Menodora holds her breath. He speaks… and she wonders for a moment if they’d shed the pretense of being at a Gala for the displaced and they’d tear her heart out. It was possible, wasn’t it? He was a Monster after all…

“You’d prefer if I’d killed you, gamle ven? There’s time yet for that, though perhaps not tonight.” Is she challenging him? Has she threatened him? “And what do you mean to say by calling me Your Countess?” Menodora asks, the distance between them having not widened. It was his fault as much as hers. Her gaze wanders — from his missing finger to his face — looking for some amount of humanity in him. And if not that, at least a monster that could remind her painlessly of a friend. “I believe that you’ve made it quite clear through your rebellion that you reject my authority as Countess. So I must ask, dear friend… what makes me yours?”

-

Tófi

‘You’d prefer if I’d killed you, gamle ven?’

Its...contradictory, really, how those words make Tófi relax in place, how they serve to steel his resolve as they continue staring at one another and searching for a silent something hidden in between the taunting.

They close their eyes, huff a silent laugh.

“I believe, kære” they begin as they open their eyes once more, smile lingering on his lips still “that you could not kill me without killing yourself in the process. And that--”

They then raise their right hand, moving it closer to her cheek and gently caressing it, if only for a moment.

“-jeg ville ikke ønske eller acceptere”

But then their hand is gone and their posture straightens; They almost take a step back, but don’t, instead focusing on her question:

‘What makes me yours?’

“It is difficult to explain” they concede, before taking a sip of his almost-forgotten drink before of disposing it by handing it away to a waiter “The ghost of you, I guess, would be part of the answer; And there’s the...feelings of seeing you achieve something so grand; Now, I do reject the authority you and yours hold over my people, my land, but if there ever was someone who I would call worthy of having such an authority, such a title, that would be you”

‘Is there ever was someone I would have followed, it was you’

“Sentimentalism” they repeat, almost in a whisper “is what makes you mine, and what makes me yours, is it not?”

-

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

What Moon expected to see in Tófi’s eyes, when he eventually opened them one again, was some sort of malice. Some secret code between them that promised hurt and pain and the past to crash through her once, twice, over and over. No, that’s what she hoped to see. What she had expected to see? She couldn’t admit that to even herself right now, especially as the he and the ghosts of her mistakes brush against her cheek. Especially as she hears his words in a language they once shared. That he had corrected her on time and time again as the fundamentals slipped from her memory.

It’s her turn to close her eyes, only a sad resemblance of a smile lingering… the corner of said smile barely grazing their thumb.

But just as quickly, she’s back in this room and they’re here without the simple prop of her wine glasses or champagne flute. They are no farther apart now than when his hand threatened to rest on her face.

“Is that truly what you believe, then, dear friend?” Moon asks, her voice only abstract around the edges, the practiced confidence wavering in her tone. Was that true? She would laugh if the only way to be rid of him were to be rid of herself as well. The humor of her tone has drained, anything remaining a meager defense… “Well, perhaps one day we shall both know for sure.”

She’d asked them that question to challenge him. Was it to challenge the concept of ownership? Or their relationship? In any case, their response is a test in its own right. She can’t keep her face neutral, nor does Moon know if she would want to. His presence did this to her. First, the guardedness. Then, she feels all too seen. It’s almost the most raw she’s been with a person since her mother’s passing. It’s a mercy to call it that.

The ghost of him haunts her halls as much as it seems the ghost of her haunts his. The memory of their conversations linger in her mind easily, and she may just as easily pick up the beginnings of their talks on literature and their temporary conclusions on the matters of history. Any smile she might give him now may feel empty, no matter how genuine that emptiness would be.

“Sentimentalism,” Menodora murmurs, an echo in the conversation, “is how we find ourselves here again and again.” She shakes her head sadly. She can’t look in their eyes. “This cycle will have to end one day. Why would you hold onto this sentimentalism? It may only hurt you more in the end.”

-

Tófi

‘This cycle will have to end, one day’ she says-

-and Tófi chuckles at the absurdity of the idea, at how foreign endings are for him and how she perceives their own demise as inevitable, as if they were bound to the same laws as her.

‘Why hold onto things, onto this sentimentalism?’ she asks-

“Because that is all that is left of those days, is it not?” they reply, voice still lowered, the vaguest hint of honest sadness taking over his features.

The days of endless conversations and laughter, are long gone, tarnished by blood, by his own actions and decisions both his and not: but the ghost of them lingers still on the way her eyes occasionally light up at some points, during those little moments of rebellion sneak past her facade, when they can see ‘Diamond’s break through the Magic High Commission's conditioning, when she can be herself (the her they remember and favour), if only for a second.

The future is still so far away, so boring, so tedious, so endless.

But the past is so solid, so warm, so beautiful.

“If you really had wanted me dead, old friend, you would have killed me there and then” they say, eyes following hers even when she evades their gaze “but you didn’t.”

‘And if I had wanted you dead, kære Måne, you wouldn’t be here right now’

They sigh, shake their head in a silent ‘no’ as they take their coat off and place it on her shoulders in order to cover the stain on her dress.

“If it is, however, a monster you want, I could always give you one” they, however, whisper next to her ear once they are close once again.

Because in the end, that was what their actions amounted to, all he’d ever been to her -to them-: something terrible, wasn’t it?

-

Menodora Butterfly-Johansen

[tw, memories of violence/blood, regicide]

“And why would you want to remember those days?” Moon asks, guilty of the exact same. She is guilty of turning the corner of the estate she grew up in, miraculously expecting to collide with a life 36 years gone. Would she barrel into her mother, arms laden with pies and cakes? Would she be chided for Hekapoo for attempting to skip a lesson to frolick in the moors before the rain set in? Would she see Mr Sethson, himself… ready to admonish her with an all too approving grin? She shouldn’t want to remember. Her house is haunted. She’d rather not live in it in her head, too.

And yet, there she is. Every day. A single blink — a break from the present — brings her back to Tófi’s betrayal… Mina shouting after him as he fled the hall. Moon being far too weak to pursue him, her heart in pieces on the floor, run over with her mother’s blood. River kneeling by her side because no one else was brave enough that day to hold her hand. The only person she would have wanted to discuss the events with would be Tófi. Only he left her alone in a cursed ancestral home with no one left to her.

“It’s my own weakness that I can’t forget them wholly. But they’re just a blip in the span of your life. Surely you can’t wait to be rid of me.” A wry, dry smile. “And make no mistake,” she says, her tone somber, “I may not have killed you there and then, but I very much wanted you dead.”

Justice or vengeance, it wouldn’t have mattered. Her anger and rage and gotten the best of her and she sought out extreme means to hurt him. In the end, maybe severing his ring finger was the only amount of damage she could manage to bring further to herself, if what he’d said was true.

Menodora bristles as Tófi moves, and she thinks they may pull something from their coat pocket. Very good, she might say, in a tone ever so similar to their own, It seems things never change. It’s only after she realizes that they’ve draped their coat over her shoulders that she can really hear the words that they’re saying. She scoffs lightly, a nervousness present in her breathing that she wishes she could ignore. Her fingers trace over the finery of the threads. “Perhaps a monster is not what I want,” she murmurs, her voice so quiet that they might only hear if they stayed near, “but it would certainly be easier.”

-

Tófi

‘I may not have killed you there and then, but I very much wanted you dead.’

To say those words were surprising in any way would have been a lie -if anything, those words were exactly the kind of thing they expected to hear from her, with or without decades under other’s influence.

(They, the Magic High Commission, had always hated his presence around the Estate, has fought for years to keep him as far away from the Countess’ family as possible -it had taken Reynaldo being struck by Rhina’s spell to finally let someone, anyone, become the now-very-needed family’s history teacher; They had kept a watchful eye over them for generations, waiting for the moment in which their nature got the better of them-

-and yet the assassination had been a surprise, or so they claimed).

“I am a Monster” he whispered back, their resolve steeling and the nostalgia slowly fading away -the hope of once again seeing Diamonds, if even for the vaguest of moments, now replaced by his old nemesis’ very deserved judgment.

At the end of the day, that was what they were, what they would always be: no amount of gentleness or pretending would change that: Her mother had always been fated to die, be it by their hands or-

They shake their head ‘no’ at the thought, take a step back literally and figuratively.

“Do not blame me for your lack of resolve” they said, voice now tight “You are welcome to try to finish what you started that day: but remember that it is me, and only me, who really knows how this all is ought to end”

And then there is nothing more left to say.

“Good evening, Countess”

[menodoramoon]

Caiette's Swynwrimo 2024: Task #3 — Short and Sweet One-Shot

Write ten short-short stories of no more than a paragraph long (can star one or multiple characters.)

TEN BIRTHDAYS FOR MENODORA PERHONEN

ft. @stellabfly tw mentions of child birth, tófi's finger

TWO / And there she was, dressed in purple. Toddling along through the front garden, breaking the heads off various flowers or possibly reaching into the dirt. Her mother smiled at that, uncaring that her daughter was digging up prized flowers. She didn't know it, but Moon meant everything to her mother. That's how these things happen, and then repeat.

TEN / It's a happy day, because her mother has made her a blackberry pie all for her for her birthday. She's never been keen on cakes and always prefers pies above all. It's a sad day because her mother's no longer her sorcery teacher. The role has moved to this strange guy named Glossaryck that Mr. Advisor -- Mr. Sethson -- didn't seem to like too much. It was what it was. She would use a training wand, she would learn. And when she was fourteen, she would have the family wand. It's as tradition does... but she still would miss lessons in the Kitchen.

FOURTEEN / She got the family wand. For every countess, the wand changes shape. It's been a sword, a pen, a fan... for her mother, it had been something that resembled a rolling pin, though it was never used like one. Moon wondered what the wand thought she would be like... She supposes she shouldn't be surprised. A light blue scepter of sorts. Did this mean she wasn't the warrior type? Or the fun type? She was just destined to be a stuffy countess like so many before her? A bit of the fun of it died that day, she thinks. But, no matter. She would prove that she could be a great countess. And, family wand in hand, she would.

SEVENTEEN / The first birthday where she made her own pie. It was blackberry, and it was good, but it would never be like her mother's. She would never be 'Comet, The Chef,' the peaceful Countess of Mjaunie. That legacy felt wrong. It hurt. It was too big for her. She would never be that person. Could she be that person? Tófi's severed finger, trapped in a magically preserving mason jar, says no.

TWENTY-SEVEN / It's her twenty-seventh birthday and she's in labor. There was chatter about Menodora going to a hospital, but when the labor came on so quickly, they ultimately decided the baby would be delivered at the estate. Stella was early. A couple weeks early. Maybe it was Stella's already rebellious nature that caused her mother to go into labor on her own birthday, but Menodora only saw it as Stella being eager to see the world. No one could fault her for that. She was born the following morning, minutes before dawn.

TWENTY-EIGHT / Moon's thumbs traced her daughter's heart-adorned cheeks. It's no wonder they're hearts, she can tell already her daughter's heart was full of love. Would be full of love. Who could ever deny her? She was perfect.

THIRTY-SEVEN / "I won't be your sorcery teacher anymore." It's harsh, isn't it? The way Menodora said that. She could have been kinder to her daughter, but the truth of the matter was that what she said was true. At the age of ten, which Stella would be the next day, most of Stella's sorcery training would fall to The Commission and Glossaryck. "I'll still teach you histories, but dear, you could do great things that I just don't know how to show you. Chin up, I'll always be here for you still."

FORTY-ONE / Is this how her mother felt, handing over the family wand? Moon holds it close again, watching the way the light reflected off the crystal. She has no idea what her daughter's wand would look like. What her version of it would be... would it reveal more or obscure about her nature? That was an odd quirk of the wand. Moon turns it twice in her hand, knowing she can very well do magic with another wand -- one she picked a few months ago -- but it still felt wrong and strange. It had been her mother's wand. But it had been her mother's mother's before that. What could it be for Star?

FIFTY-TWO / He kisses her. In the moment between years, her birthday and Stella's, Tófi Sethson kisses her. She really should be outraged, but actually, she's more surprised. More mystified. Part of her wants to slap him for it and part of her can't bring herself to even consider it. They were friends once, and they might be again. She makes this one allowance, however ill-advised it may be.

FIFTY-THREE / It hasn't happened yet. But even so, Moon hopes that fifty-three will be a time for change. It must be. Let her fifty-third year be the best yet. It's a simple birthday wish. She just has to make it come true.

--

Caiette's Swynwrimo 2024 Tracklist.

[darius-dues]

Date with the Devil || Darius&Tófi