#wellbloom

[enoughspackle]

Hey folks, I'm excited to share my other new D&D character, Hazel Wellbloom, they are a celestial pact warlock who formerly was a cleric. I'm really happy with their design, and honestly I could talk about her concept for a while.

[rehurt]

[eristice]

Whitley felt the statement merited at least a hug, and some day in the future, after years of meditation, he might feel comfortable spontaneously hugging people, but at this moment it was all he could do to lay a hand on Winters forearm. "Depsite my disposition and situation, Winter. And my inherent distaste for our very name. I'd like you to know: I do love you."

unprompted / @wellbloomed

        trapped between the cold stone walls of the schnee mansion with its solid metal door handles and dead marble fireplaces, one could be forgiven for thinking that a frigid draught was all that roamed there. how could anything so warm as care be harvested across the decorated and empty foyer, the vast hallways, and rooms set like a scene in a museum but not lived in, no, never lived in? the schnee family were as cold as their name, they all said, and winter is the coldest of the lot.

        an airship awaited her on the frost-shorn lawn, and taking her leave was the last and most pleasant thing winter had left to do. as neither an honoured guest nor a welcome family member this was her first instance of an escort to the steps leading down to the gravel walkway, and the hand on her arm was the last thing she expected from whitley of all people. 

        an expression of hard stone crumbled almost immediately, replaced with a sadness whose depth could rival the hole shot through the moon by the gods. winter forgot herself in her surprise, but there was no place for pride (in what, again?) here. she took a step back up to the landing on which whitley stood, and reached out with her free hand to take his shoulder in her palm. he was taller than she remembered, a sudden realisation that brought a hapless smile to her lips. she should have been here to see him grow. 

        “and i, you.” she said, in a tone so hushed the breeze threatened to carry it away. better that, winter thought, than for it to be consumed by this house and killed by the demons that lived there. her hand lifted to touch whitley’s hair briefly, and she stepped away it felt like she was leaving him all over again before he was old enough to understand that all she had on her mind was to get away, and not what she was leaving her siblings to fend themselves against. 

        “there will come a day when you can shed our name entirely, and when you do, i will be there.” winter added, shifting away and arm turning under his hand till she had a grip of his fingers. she squeezed tightly, her smile soft and filled with the kind of warmth that would shock the gossiping old hens and sharply dressed rats that usually swarmed these halls for the breadcrumbs tossed by the ever-frigid schnee family. 

        “give father hell for me, will you? since i’m not here to do it myself.”

[wiltmeadow]

Basics

Name: Whitley Nicholas Schnee

Age: 16 (vol 1-3), 17 (vol 4-5), 18 (vol 6)

Birthday: January 28th

Nationality: Atlesian

Place of Birth: Atlas

Pronouns: He/Him

S-Orientation: Bisexual

R-Orientation: Biromantic 

Occupation: Heir

Physical

Height: 5'7’

Hair: White

Eyes: Blue

Body Build: Slim 

Bio

Born in Atlas. Whitley spent his whole life trapped on the floating kingdom. Raised by his butler in the home of his father. With nothing to look forward to but the very company his father loved more than anything in the world.

[slayess]

Whitley knows little of physical affection. He refrains from something extreme in favor of taking her hand.

        rising tensions quickly lulled the moment whitley schnee extended his own hand to ruby, shock crossing her sterling gaze before freckled digits reached to intertwine with his. judging by how weiss talked about him whitley could be cold, distant, manipulative --- but ruby experienced none of that. his hand was as warm as the cyan eyes staring back at her, faint smile quirking the corner of little red’s lips. 

       ‘  holding my hand ? careful whitley, we don’t want to get in a scandal.  ‘  she teased, though she briefly wondered if they could get in a scandal --- ruby wasn’t human, after all. a schnee had no business being around a faunus and holding her hand.  ‘  maybe you could show me around atlas if i can break you outta here for an hour or two ?  ‘ 

[yaxg-blog]

"Did you know my father wanted me to be a banker? But I didn't have enough interest." Whitley definitely not reading off his hand.

     Tᴀᴘ. ᴛᴀᴘ. Tᴀᴘ. ɢᴏᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴄɪʟ ᴀᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴘᴀɢᴇ. Uɴғʟᴇxɪɴɢ, ᴜɴʏɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ, ɪs ɪᴛ’s ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀɪsᴛɪᴄ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴄʟɪᴘʙᴏᴀʀᴅ. Tʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛᴀɴᴛ ɢᴀᴛʜᴇʀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀssɪɢɴ ᴀ ɴᴜᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀʟ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ᴊᴏᴋᴇ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ’s ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛs ᴏғ ᴀ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʜᴏᴡɴ ᴇxᴘᴇʀᴛɪsᴇ ɪɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴀsᴘᴇᴄᴛs, ʜɪs ɴᴏᴠɪᴄᴇ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴅɪᴅ sʜɪɴᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs.      Sʜᴇ sᴡɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴄɪʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ, sᴡᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʀᴀsᴇʀ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴅs. Iᴛ ʜɪᴛs ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ʟɪᴘ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀʀᴜᴘᴛs ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ. Tʜᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇs ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇᴅ, ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɴᴏ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪs ᴀᴜᴅɪᴇɴᴄᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ’s ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏғғ ʜɪs ᴘᴀʟᴍ. Iᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟs ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ’s ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛs. Iɴɢᴇɴᴜɪᴛʏ ɪs ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇʙʏ sᴏ sʜᴇ’ʟʟ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ᴘʟᴜs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. 

     Hᴇʀ ᴡʀɪsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴄɪʟ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴛᴏ sᴄʀɪʙʙʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs. Sʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀ sᴏʟɪᴅ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ (ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴏᴜs sᴄᴏʀᴇ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴍɪʟᴇ. “Vᴇʀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ Wʜᴇᴀᴛʏ MᴄSᴄʜɴᴇᴇᴛʏ!”

[regincula-blog]

@wellbloomed, continued from here!

The queen’s pale lip quirked up at one corner as her eyes were trained on his every reaction. Shock, horror, and then resignation--she knew the signs quite well. 

Stepping up beside him, with hands gently folded in front of her, Salem’s dark eyes were locked onto Whitley’s own. It was with a deep breath that she began her design.

“...Tell me, young man--do you know the story of the Girl in the Tower?”

[ryoshan]

whitley trying to become more independent and competent under winters care but he's a spoon fed trash baby

     “i love my siblings equally, both weiss and,” looks at the back of her hand, “whitley for the love of dust why is there a whole frozen turkey in the microwave did you not figure once it started smoking you should take it out it’s a good thing my hair’s already white because –” 

     and so on. 

domestic disaster thread when | @wellbloomed

[remnaentarchived-blog]

whitley doesnt know how to say thank you so he just holds penny's hand

          ››          @wellbloomed.   //   accepting.

warmth of whitley’s hand surrounding her own, smile tugs at redhead’s mouth as she returns the gesture with hand shifting slightly so fingers can lace between his.   sun shines low in the garden, almost ready to set and let atlas bask in the rising moonlight instead and vivid green gaze watches as it slowly settles ; smile softening into something almost imperceptible.   something she can’t define, only a feeling that she is exactly where she is meant to be.   shifting slightly where she sat, android leant her head against whitley’s shoulder, small hum following.

[bornsteel]

wellbloomed replied to your post: uwu if your muse was a superhero, what would their...

whitley vc: i’m rich

[koeniginschnee]

“Kill me.” - wit LEE

A long exasperated sigh escaped Winter as she turned her attention toward her brother. Apparently he chose to be over-dramatic when burdened with a few sniffles and sore throat. That or he was just doing it to pester her.

“Murder is against the law, Whitley. I cannot grant your request. Perhaps you have something else I can do that won’t result in needing to hide a body.”

[intiqaam]

'your bandage is filthy already.' - NECIM !!

the war that saved my life

” and i’ll deal with it later- when i ain’t got shit to get done. ‘sides, not the first time i’ve gone without changin’ a bandage. i’ll live. “

infections were something to be worried about later in the caracal’s mind, when there wasn’t a mission to get done. so long as she could still use her arm it meant the wound wasn’t to a point that warranted worrying about.

[rehurt]

[eristice]

imagine whitley moving in with winter and he has to go to PUBLIC SCHOOL

unprompted / @wellbloomed

        “please, just eat your breakfast and try not to call anyone a peasant today.”

[remnaent-a-blog]

lay a hand on whitley and suffer the smol android as she beats ur ass to kingdom come.

[slayess]

Whitley has decided to make an attempt at humor: "An owl and a squirrel are sitting in a tree watching a farmer go by. The owl turns to the squirrel and says nothing, because owls can't talk. The owl then eats the squirrel because it's a bird of prey."

    a few long, painful moments were spent just staring at whitley in complete confusion. at first ruby wasn’t sure if he was telling a story or trying to tell her something important in code —— only to be left with something that sounded more like an anti - joke. regardless, after a pointed slow blink, little red burst into a fit of giggles ; hand rising to clutch whitley’s shoulder.

    ‘  that —- that was SO BAD, friend. you were trying to joke right ? ‘   maybe that seemed obvious, especially with how much ruby ended up laughing. growing up alongside yang meant she fell victim to cheesy jokes more often than not.   ‘  might wanna work on . . . being funny. don’t worry, weiss is honestly worse.  ‘