Evikaia Naerth / 28 / Surface-Bound Syren Soul Points: 4,850
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“I suppose I just want something simple.”
The florist sighed at Vik’s updated stance; it was the busiest time of their calendar year and he seemed to insist on requiring a more personalized service. He had every intent to buy up the whole place but there was no sophistication in just offering chaotic bouquet with no clear message. Floral language was something that he’d delved into very passionately, appreciating the secret and sweet nothings shared between petals and stems. Was he trying to declare something or rather re-declare? Did he want to note his openness or his hope for their future? What about favorite color schemes? A five minute pit stop had turned into a half an hour ordeal of Vik eyeing the same bunches of brightly colored flowers, refusing to even make eye contact the pesky overused red rose.
“What speaks to you?” Vik’s attention turned to his fellow Valentine’s Day prepper, happy to go into a small debt at the hands of freshly cut flora. Perhaps he would find a fellow romantic who understood his plight or a desperado in search of the perfect bloom to offer words they didn’t have. “What says... I love you, but I’ve always loved you. Hundreds of years, turmoil, angst, joy and adoration. I just don’t know if lilies really speak so readily--- What do you think?”
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rinaxjaguar:
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she waits patiently, facial expressions under tight control as not to show anything or hurt vik´s feelings. a heart in the right place and a good companion for talia. they both deserve happiness after everything and in spite of what rina thought about love, even she could see they were made for one another. vik´s goodness was apparent in his kind gesture and actions but talia kept hers guarded under a shell only letting those she trusts see. both were precious in their own way. more than that they matched as two pieces of a puzzle. rina often sees the love talia has for him but isn´t comfortable to express, at least not in public. the other part of the duo has no such restrains and makes vows of love.“ I´m the number one fan of the vik and talia club, just don´t share my sappy fangirl side or I will deny it. okay? good. letters and poems… whatever are a good way of expression for some but you guys are way over that phase. actions speak louder than words. I know… prepare a big surprise for her!" she had no idea what, but would be happy to assist vik. her notions of romance were vastly different from talia´s. better not to even make suggestions. ” don´t take it to heart, you give Kitty food and a warm place. that´s pretty much all we care about. I´ve had my share of wild affairs that would make a catholic priest throw holy water at me exorcist style. what am I supposed to do with a love note, Vik? I would make the idiot eat the damm note and choke with it.“
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“I would never give your secrets away!” Vik certainly couldn’t go against the number one fan of a club that he hoped would one day have a chance to come to true fruition. “A big surprise?! I mean, I’d love to. I just worry...” It was hard for Vik to list the worries he had, never wanting to undermine his devotion to supporting Talia’s happiness. “She has so much going on... I just don’t want to overwhelm her.” Overwhelming her would possibly mean her leaving to a place that Vik couldn’t follow. He had once been known to have a love affair with grand gestures of affection, arranging and orchestrating romantic moments big and small in an attempt to jolt Talia out of her tunnel-visioned dedication to their kingdom. It was selfish, not consciously so, but he dreamed of a romance that they couldn’t have. Over the years he grew more understanding, more timid and logical in his ways; spontaneous romantic outpourings became tasteful and quiet moments that he hoped they shared. The touch of a hand to cure loneliness, a glance to quell boredom and the knowledge that they were connected even though the responsibility of their kingdom kept them separate. “I try not to take it to heart, but for something so warm and fluffy-- Well, I’d never say she’s cold, just picky.” And it was surely an effort not to be disheartened but he was well versed. “Stir clear of written sweet nothings, I’ll keep that in mind should you ever feel me worthy of wooing you.”
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semthesagaferir:
“Lots of things. Landscapes mostly. Sometimes things I see or abstract. I love getting lost in it. Shutting the world out.” She very much enjoys turning the images in her mind into a work of art. Kaya could go on and on about painting really. “What do you mean?” she asked, head tilting to the side a little. “My brother doesn’t really have anyone else. It’s been just the two of us for a few years now. I definitely don’t get to paint as much as I used to.” There usually isn’t much time to herself, unless you count homework and studying, classes. Cheeks turn pink as he says he thinks she is spectacular. Now how to put this without spilling the whole truth and looking like a crazy person? “Well my parents wanted me to take a different path, follow the laws of the church. I didn’t want to be tied up in something I am not sure I fully support.” Hopefully it was vague enough to keep the secret. God she really needed to make more supernatural friends. This would be so much easier. “So what is your story? What is your family like?”
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Vik wanted to ask if she painted the sea though he figured that’d be called a seascape more than a landscape. Greenery was beautiful, flowers were so delicate and bright but his heart always went with the ocean and found the sublime in it’s flowing depths. “Abstract. What does that mean to you?” He had a basic understanding of the abstract, but he found it funny that she wanted to both appreciate the world and block it out too. “I can understand that, I suppose I just come from a place where we are as strong as our weakest one. Does that make sense?” Vik didn’t mean any offense, perhaps it was just his syren spirit, only wanting to lift his fellow folk up. “It’s good that you decided on your own path to figure out what you support most. That’s an incredibly important part of personal growth. It can hard to grasp, but it’s always worth it.” Vik had struggled against his nature, one that told him without his access to the sea that he was nothing. One that wanted him to quit, admit defeat and take on a warrior’s death rather than wasting away on land. But he had to, he had to offer his days up in hopes that one of them might get him back into the ocean. “My story’s a little long in the tooth at this point but I do appreciate you asking. My family... I haven’t seen them in some time. But they’re good, honorable people. Just the three of us. I never had any siblings.”
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fiane:
when: January
where: utp
Winter was always one of her favorite times of year. While she may be wet and cold at all times at least she had her playmate. Water was always around her and Fiadh was overjoyed. Aware that she was always being watched for her strange behavior. She would frolic outside with just a t-shirt and shorts on. Making snow angels and the like with her gift. Her gift that she loved and others deemed a freak accident. Fiadh allowed her hair to get drenched in the snow as she gathered some in her hands and she blew air in between. “Can I help you?” she called to the onlooker.
Vik hadn’t used to feel the chill so deeply. The ocean was refreshing, homely even in the it’s most fridgid corners. But as always that was then and since becoming closer to the mortal than he’d care to ever admit each winter seemed to get that much more unforgiving. Vik often found himself gripping his fingers to stop them from being rendered unusable, layering even when all he wanted to do was show off his impressively lithe form. “Not sure if you can help me but I can surely help you.” Vik didn’t need to see much more, his bones already frozen by watching the woman’s antics. He pulled off his coat and very instantly felt the stinging breeze, offering it up to Fiadh to hopefully keep the cold off of her. “You’ll catch your death out here. I don’t know how you haven’t frozen already.”
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rinaxjaguar:
@viknaerth
rina lacked romanticism in her personality. while capable of demonstrating affection for those she held dear. very much like a feline cuddling into warmth she would use someone for a night of sex without strings attached. no promises or long term connections. after hearing the story straight from vik´s lips, the weyr stared at him in disbelief. she was struggling to understand the reasoning behind his actions.the concept of love isn’t something alien and she did love her friends and pack. however, the past made her understand that romantic feelings were a mistake and should be avoided.“ like how…why? that´s so freaking sweet it would give me diabetes. feline here, we don´t like that shit. I would scratch that pretty face of yours and talia would be pissed.”
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“I suppose the why was that I had to do something. She and I didn’t really speak on... Well romance wasn’t really a priority for her, but I just couldn’t help myself.” Their duties came first and Vik never faulted Talia for taking it as seriously as she did. Perhaps he was softer or less devoted to his kingdom but he couldn’t really see anything other than her, lost in the selfish and vulnerable place that was complete adoration. And because of that he wrote to her - Letters, poems, odes and things, just expressions of love. She’d be sent them in bulk, all hand scrawled and for her own amusement. “The more that I wrote, the more I still had left to write.” Loving Talia was the easiest and most difficult thing Vik had ever been successful at. It had never been his choice nor had it been all too welcomed. Their relationship was complicated even with how naturally it seemed to come. They were a support to each other, both locked into a regency, Talia, the future leader of their kingdom and Vik, a helpful aide. “You know that really is fascinating though... You see I have a cat, Kitty. She and Talia get along famously but I still don’t think she recognizes me as a part of her life. While it isn’t ideal I’m just happy she’s happy.” His little cat had a home, a bed she liked, was fed plentifully every day and was loved whether she cared to be or not. “So it’s a no to romance? Never any wild love affairs? I find it hard to believe that no one’s written tomes of love notes for you.”
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semthesagaferir:
“Paint, I like to paint, acrylic.” She smiles, her face lit up when she thought about painting. It was making something out of nothing, something beautiful. She is very good at it too, something she gets from her father. “My father used to paint. When he was my age, I guess. I suppose law school got in the way for him.” She had seen one of his paintings several years ago and always wonders why her father gave up art. Once the drinks arrived, she takes a slow and cautious sip of hers. It was good, much more fruity than the bourbon. She is quick to take another sip, this time more enthusiastic. The alcohol was still there and still not very pleasant, but the fruitiness from the juice was a nice balance. “Yeah, sometimes. Silas has a way of getting himself into trouble. He doesn’t have anyone else to look after him.” She has no idea about the vampires he has been spending time with or she would be in flight mode right now. She wishes she could argue that she does, but she has noticed she has less and less time to paint. Most of her free time lately seems to be spent chasing Silas and/or feeding him. Absently, she rubs an area on her arm where Silas had recently bitten her. Though it is hidden under her jacket. “Our parents basically disowned us when we failed to live up to their expectations. All we have is each other.” And there goes her drink, all of it.
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“Painting - And what are you favorite things to paint?” Vik found it interesting, the physicality of art. He had always been more of a writer and since being trapped on land had had much more experience with photography. The nuance of capturing a moment, whereas painting to him was more of a labor of love. A recreation in a chosen medium to pay homage and to express. Moving. “I think many things get in the way of art, it’s a shame really.” When speaking on her father he thought on his own father, just for a moment; the disappointment he felt radiated heat through him and he hated it. “And it has to be you... The person that does all the chasing? How do you carve out time for yourself?” Vik wondered if it was just moments like these, happenstance. When he first got dropped on the surface he too had been chasing before he found his feet, chasing calmness and resoluteness to his new situation. It resolved itself over the years, he adjusted, panicked and then readjusted. It wasn’t easy but he had little choice in the end. “What did they expect from you? You seem quite spectacular to me.” Vik sipped at his drink, listening intently, wondering if he’d maybe overstepped in his line of questioning.
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The holidays were a strange time for Vik. The ocean had it’s traditions but they were much more grand and well loved by him but perhaps that was just his personal bias. He didn’t quite understand all the lights and decor that seemed to rotate year on year; but that wasn’t to say he didn’t celebrate. The first few years were dark, shut away while the town sparkled without him but found friends made it easier. Fine dinners, gift giving and an excuse to let his sappier side fly free. And this time round Talia was involved, there was no greater gift as far as he was concerned. The most central part to their festivities was picking up a tee for Vik’s living room. With a final heave it was through the door. It made him begin to wonder how trees any bigger were even transported into the different homes he’d flitted through. With it laid in front of the coffee table he stood back trying to subtly regain his composure after the hauling effort.
“Looks great, what an addition.” He offered with his hands on hips, lips curling into a hopeful grin that Talia might let him away with leaving it horizontal. “Does she hate it?” Vik’s eyes flicked to Kitty who seemed to be deliberating; a precarious situation for all involved.
@taliawells
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semthesagaferir:
“Yeah, exactly like that.” The tone of her voice says she isn’t exactly sure how to articulate how to explain her parents beliefs. She didn’t feel like she could say wytch and be taken seriously or not labeled crazy. It was something she was taught at a young age not to openly talk about. She hates to lie, or feel like she is lying. “Both, actually. Art is an escape for me, how I relax I guess. I started painting when I was six.” It felt like a lifetime since she first started painting, and she wishes she could go back to that time in her life. “Just the clothes?” she asked. She was ever one to really enjoy having her picture taken. Being the center of attention is not really her thing. When the bartender came back over, she gives him a very fake but polite smile. “Sex in the driveway this time please.” She gave him a look that dared him to crack a joke about context. Sex in the driveway was a variant of sex in the beach but had other flavors than just cranberry. She had heard someone talk about them in class once and decided now was a good time to give it a try. “No, I guess not. I spend most of my time chasing after my brother or focusing on my coursework . Doesn’t exactly leave much time to mingle.” It was a fair excuse, but in reality, she just didn’t want the attachments.
“And what sort of art calls to you?” Vik had learned from his various friends in different places that art made itself known in many ways. It sat in people’s throats and waxed poetic, it took people by the hand and led them in waltz and naturally it was most noted for its deliverance of works on canvas. And between the mediums were genres and between those was the individuals abiltity to express themselves and their experiences. Vik was quite creative, a wordsmith, a lover of lovesongs and poetry for his dearest one. He’d written tomes in his time, words plucked and a dedicated to the queen of his kingdom. They ordered up once more and he was glad to have found company that could match his deviously consistant pace. Alcohol’s potency was pitiful but he did enjoy the gentle burn that warmed as it lingered. “Does your brother make you do a lot of chasing?” Vik was naturally quite protective but had learned that chasing rarely delivered the desired result. Instead he let the paths written in the stars decide who ended up where and why. He was endlessly supportive but no longer to his own detriment. “You deserve time to yourself, for yourself, you know? It’s incredibly important.”
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hellebergs:
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Helle linked her arm with Vik’s, signaling an intake in tandem. She hoped the twinge of wryness threatening to betray her countenance was drowned by the teacup’s contents. “You know, it’s funny you chose this set.” Of those, she had plenty. “She gave this to me once.” Venom and tenderness were intertwined so thoroughly when she spoke on such manners. A gaze darkened and sidled far away, snapped back to lucidity in an almost imperceptible manner. “I trot it out whenever she finds me once more.” It was a bitter thing, a love once lost that kept seeking her out. There was no kindness in the cruel justice of her soul’s own kindred connection. “…hoping she remembers,” Helle dwindled. Why didn’t she ever remember? “Yet you have always had impeccable taste, mon trésor, and how were you to know?” How was anyone to know that such an expansive estate was little more than a claustrophobic mausoleum? “I, trapped within this court, and you ——” Bereft of one. “You? Much too good for my own pity.”
Helle longed to entertain, to lounge, to laugh, to swoon beneath the moonlight. Many of her years had been spent in a stagnant, stifling chokehold. She was to control or to be controlled, yet she longed for ricocheting laughter, candid merriment and debauchery. Thistledown was the perfect setting to play hostess, be it at the estate or even a corner of the hedge maze.
“Just how I like it, you know me so well,” Helle mused, raising the teacup in a silent salutation. There was a gleam in her eye, one of mischief and merriment, and so often brought out within Vik’s company. “I can direct you to my very favorite, but it’s back at the cottage. To the right, propped against the corner. If you approach with a discerning gaze, you’ll catch a glimpse in the reflection of the mirror. Stunning really, a true rarity.” She lifted a finger to trace the rim of the delicate china, the delicate pattern. It was a tentative touch as if the blooms would lift from the porcelain and lash and snap at her fingers.
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The venerable she. It was always a woman, not just for Helle but for him as well. They were so devastating and yet he would have never traded the lashings received for all the soured love he’d experienced. Love had never been plain for him, it was intense, sometimes deceitful, wild, sometimes ferocious. He remained honest in it all, flaying his heart for others to dissect. Some did, cradled themselves in it’s atrium’s and others... Well, there were some others that taught him that love, at times, is hardship. He couldn’t always love the right person, but loving the wrong person was surely better than being without a great love - Some would argue, some would agree and most would surely wonder how he found so many silly hearts to love him back.
‘You?’ Him, his tale of woe. What was to be said for him? A fool, who did foolish things that led to his demise. He often questioned if Helle saw anything good in him past their shared fashion sense, wondering if there was anything to see. They shared a mutually glassy-eyed glance and he wondered what truly lurked in her depths. Vik was playing the role of triage nurse, Helle’s wounded eyes leading him not to the surface but some deep-seated torturous internal bleed. Perhaps one of the heart? A deadly thing to be so drained by love and it’s wickedness.
“Helle I didn’t...” She snuck in before he could offer his apology, a fault even by ignorance was a fault nonetheless. “I am sorry, I’ll know for next time.” He of all people knew that everything had an inherent value, even the small overlooked pieces. Art wasn’t art, it was a feeling, what it could pull from your chest and from your head. People go to war for less, people go to war with themselves over feelings. Helle seemed to be playing the roles of two generals fighting for their own freedom, over a battlefield that was only ever changed by another. A she.
“So I go into the cottage... I look to the right and I gaze into that mirror to look at you by my side? Why, Helle, in your company your radiance so thoroughly distracting, no need for such an adventure to do as I’m doing now.” Vik hoped that he still had her attention but he understood his choice in vessel left her with quite the challenge. Was he to compliment it? He thought of himself, not selfishly but of his own stance when Talia hadn’t yet landed. Speaking on her took parts of him away. Though impassioned by his own want to return to the sea, he wasn’t confident in his ability to do so. Thinking on her, losing her, burnt him up like the paper on which he’d scrawled Talia’s letter before the Trials, his edges frayed and he ached with a loss that he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully recover from.
And then for a moment he steadied himself and he paused. He still remained, what little ounce of ash he was still remained. The feeling of her, the idea of seeing her once more pulled him back from the sea’s edge when he threatened to find her in the early years. Madness would well up in him, take hold and he would only ever be brought back down by regaining a promise of purpose. Hope. Speaking and thinking on Talia breathed life into him, it pained him but with all love a barbed sting comes attached; whether it’s loss, differences or apathy. “Has there been a time where she’s remembered? Not these, as beautiful as they are, even just a hint of anything?” It was dangerous to ask but Vik couldn’t let himself be silent in front of someone who’d struggled for much longer and in a way much more greatly with their shared vice.
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semthesagaferir:
“Well ━” Kaya begins. “My parents have always been a bit supersious.” she says it as if trying to form her sentence in a way that she wasn’t lying but not exactly telling the truth. “Embarrassingly so at times.” A smile spreads across her lips, a small laugh of nervousness following. She was trying to come up with a reason to be interested in the subject. Doing occult studies gave her more time to focus on her magic. It was the psychology she planned to use. “I plan to become a child psychologist with a specialty in art therapy.” That’s right, avoid the occult question. “That sounds like fun. I assume you like having your picture taken?” she asked, trying to make conversation. Fingers run through her auburn locks. She looks down at her drink and then finishes it in one gulp, which suddenly felt like a mistake as her throat felt like it was literally on fire, and she holds her hand to her throat until the burning sensation fades. “No, I had a boyfriend and then I moved to Rapid City when I was sixteen. We tried to keep in touch, but his ━ interest changed, I guess. We broke up, and the right guy hasn’t come along yet.” She shrugs. She had found it hard to connect after she had been banished from the church, and her parents. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, it had just been a lot and learning how to practice magic outside a hive was an adjustment. Not to say she couldn’t practice magic without a hive, but her power was very weak compared to a wytch with a hive.
“Superstitious? Black cats and ladders, those sorts of things?” Vik wasn’t sure if he shared that same belief. If he gave into the idea of luck he’d surely damn himself to an eternity of self pity. How unlucky his tale of entrapment would seem, a poor and unfortunuate soul. “Art therapy. Are you an artist or just have an interest in helping people?” Perhaps partly both. Vik liked children. He wasn’t sure if life would gift him with the experience of having any but he did appreciate the cliche of them being the future. Their brightness and their innocence was such a flare amongst the shroud of adulthood; resposibility leaving simple joys to dwindle away. “I suppose I don’t mind it. I do enjoy the clothes a little more though.” Fashion was a central part to Vik’s enjoyment of being on land. It was a way for him to express himself, whether he felt more feminen, masculine or simply more risque than usual. He noted reaction to the drink and when the bartender came their way for another round he finished the dregs of his drink before looking Kaya’s way; ladies first. “No one has taken your fancy since then? There are a lot of treasures dotted around South Dakota, I’ve come to know most of them quite well.” For him love and dating was habitual. Nights out were an opportunity to meet people, connect with them and by sunrise he’d found himself a new companion. “What do you usually look for?”
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l-pgraves:
He kissed her forehead and Lilith melted into his touch. Vik was everything she needed in times like these. He was soothing and soft and love personified. He made her feel calm and as though everything was right with the world. If there was a way she could stay with him forever, she was sure she would. In terms of loving someone, the twins were very different. Lilith was much more prone to act on her emotions and letting them get carried away. She devoted herself to someone and them alone. Giving her whole self to them and even in terms of friendship she felt things more deeply than that of her sister. While her sister loved harder. Pandora was a being made to feel one thing and one thing alone. If she was angry the world would know. She bit on her lip at Vik’s agreement. “She closed herself off from me,” she said, the hurt cutting the air between them like a knife, “If someone other than me shows concern maybe she’ll be more prone to open up. Especially if it’s you. Pandora hates upsetting you.”
It was true that the twins clung to their friendship with him though in different ways. Lilith was never truly afraid of losing him the way she was Pandora or when she had decided to cut Valentino off. She knew that the two were too inclined to each other’s company too ever really let go. Lilith treasured his friendship and let him know how special he was to her every chance she got. But Pandora? If there was anyone she was afraid of losing it was Vik. Her sister lived life as though it was hers for the taking but knowing that she upset him in anyway rocked her. Disturbing her stance and derailing her path. “Not that I can think of,” she said, chewing on the inside of her cheek, “She’s been avoiding me and sneaking off to go meet with someone. I think. I just don’t know who or why or if she’s alone. I did mention going to see Val at some point but she immediately told me not to. Normally, she brushes it off like I shouldn’t even bother.”
Pandora was intense and in a way Lilith was too but in completely different ways. One was always life and death, the other a font a joy but who found herself heavily effected by the world around her. Vik found them both understandable in their own ways. Meyrs were life and death, black and white, uninterested by the grey. As much as his blood spoke to his lineage, he was always known for his emotional range. There was a streak in him that found it so impossible to look away from people, ignore connection and his penchant for romance. These were all things that didn’t speak to the traditions of the sea, but they spoke to him. “Then, my sweet, I’ll voice my concern.” Vik didn’t like the sound of any of it. The idea that two that were so closely bonded had found themselves separated sounded quite grave, he care to think on what Pandora was up to; concerned by her relationship with chaos.
“How is everything with you and Valentino?” The question was posed as gently as it could be, not wishing to upset her any further but he couldn’t leave it go unchecked. “I’ll check in with her, Lil. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you that.” Vik wanted to put some action towards the plan and pulled out his phone, sending along a quick text to Pandora, noting that he’d missed her and that he wished to see her as soon as she could find the time for him. An unfair way to word himself but it was in the interest of cutting down the waiting period for Lilith. The blond wasn’t sure if he’d be any help or if he could reconnect the twins but he would do everything in his power to remain hopeful. He dropped his phone on the table before looking back to Lilith and offering her a soft smile. “There... It’s out in the world and I’ll follow up as soon as she gets back to me. But until then, is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease? You know I do hate seeing you like this.”
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semthesagaferir:
Looking around at the near empty bar, she laughs a bit and nods. “If he was here, explains why he would have left.” Life seemed so much easier when all she had to worry about was school work and painting. Then there was magic, being a part of a hive felt like having extended family. Without it, it felt lost. Signing her soul away wasn’t an option for her, but none of this she could tell anyone but her brother. “The Occult as my major, psychology as my miner.” She was ready for the look, the look of are you crazy. It was what most people did when she told them. She could not blame them though, it was an odd thing to study if you didn’t know about the supernatural. “I know it is weird, I guess, but I just thing that sort of thing is interesting.” Yeah, that sounded like a good reason. “And what do you do when you are not here drinking? I am sure you have a very nice girlfriend or boyfriend.” Nervously, she plays with the napkin that was once under her drink. She folds it, trying to make a paper duck. But then she worried that she looked bored and not interested in what he was saying, so she makes herself stop half way into it.
“This is true, not exactly the epicentre of South Dakotan living.” It was good to wander the outskirts sometimes, breathing felt easier there. City life could get incredibly stifling terribly quickly and Vik got concerned that without proper breaks he’d get consumed. At the mention of her major his eyes narrowed somewhat and he looked quickly to his drink. Don’t be a wytch he repeated in his head. Perhaps she was a human with some sort of fatal attraction to the supernatural, perfectly plausible. “It is indeed an interesting mix, what do you hope to do with them both?” Vik, even when fearful, was a polite person, always wanting to put his company at ease. He’d ask questions and let them talk about themselves while he slowly drown himself. “I get pictures taken of me, for clothes- Modelling! Well I do that sometimes, most of the time I’m drinking in any fine establishment that’ll have me.” The mention of a boyfriend or a girlfriend threw him off, unsure of his own position. “Hard to say, I think it depends on the day sometimes. Most usually it’s just myself and my cat.” Just himself, his cat and on some special days his ex-betrothed, his first and most enduring love to date; a woman who could ruin him and he’d thank her for it. It was complicated and wholly uncomplicated at the same time. He was single until told otherwise. “And you? Surely taken when you’re not running around after missing people, no?”
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fiane:
“Then you should count yourself truly lucky,” she said with a smile, “There are several I know who would think to do exactly that.” Fiadh was thinking of the fey she had grown used to. Those who whispered about her. Picked on her and made cruel unrelenting jokes on her behalf. Of course, there were those who would tell her to take no mind of them. But she was a fragile soul and cruelty made wounds that were cut deep into her. Though as she sat with this being she felt no such thing from him. He seemed much too kind and soft for such antics. “I am not who I was meant to be,” she said simply, “There are those who see this as weak and fragile. In some aspects they are not wrong. I am fragile but not in the way they think.” Her fingers danced over the petals of the flowers as she thought about who she had met in her times here. How many knew who and what she was. Judging her before they had gotten the chance to even get to know her. How it had cut her soul. “You’re not like most others I have met,” she said, “You’re much kinder than those who whisper.”
“I’ve counted myself both lucky and terribly unlucky since I got stuck here.” He was alive but what use was that really? Some days he felt joy, met good people and relished in new experiences but most days he missed a life he worried he’d never get to be a part of again. His kingdom, his people, even the feel of the ocean against his skin; it was a lot to lose at once. Vik felt himself falter at her words, he knew what it was to lose who he was meant to be. He dropped to sit by her, his legs crossed in front of him. “You and I both.” He wished to assure her that she wasn’t alone, both in her twist of fate and her fragility. In comparison to his fellow meyrs that had found their way to land he was terribly weak, basically human in his lacking ability. There was a lot of shame associated with it but he did everything he could to charm and distract with his words instead of mourning his losses. “Who are these people that whisper? Why are they so cruel?”
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l-pgraves:
Being around Vik made her feel at ease. Made her think that everything in the world was safe and warm. Being with him felt like sunshine. Which was what she needed to breathe–in order to live. Lilith, like any of her plants, needed the warmth of the love and the sun to survive in this cold, harsh world. That was another area in which she did not share with her twin sister. Pandora was the very essence of everything dark and sinister. Darkness gave her sister life whereas it stifled her and suffocated her. His words soothed her as she laid her head on his shoulder. Wanting–needing–to be close to him. A sigh pushed through her and Lilith gnawed on the inside of her cheek in thought. If there was anyone that could get through to Pandora–it was Vik. After all, her sister loved him just as much as she did. “Pan’s been…not herself lately,” she began, rubbing small circles with her thumb on his thigh, “She’s been very distant and closed off from me. I can’t even get through to her mentally anymore. I’m worried she’s in danger or getting herself into something she can’t get out of. It’s Pan, ya know? She’s more prone to burn herself than anything else.” She paused, lifting her head to look at him now. Lilith had always been the emotional one. Letting her emotions get the better of her. This may be one of those times and maybe Pandora was perfectly fine. But then there was the last time her sister had closed off form her. She had managed to kill someone in cold blood and Lilith was there to help bury the dead. “Who’s to say she won’t kill someone again,” she said with another sigh, “She’ll listen to you, Vik. She loves you as much as I do. If I can’t get through to her maybe you can?”
Vik shifted himself slightly to put an arm around his sullen company, toying the stray strands of on her shoulder affectionately. He hated seeing Lilith like this, someone who had the capacity to shine so brightly relegated to the shade. It wasn’t something he could stand for, feeling just how sapped Lilith seemed to be by it all. The blond didn’t have any brothers or sisters, no point of comparison for the bond, especially not a twin and how close both Lilith and Pandora seemed to be in better moments. A bisection of one whole person, admittedly representing the good and the bad quite clearly. They were chaos and calm and respectfully and Vik had enjoyed his time between the two though alone he did prefer Lilith’s soft nature. As soon as her eyes met his he had little in the way of choice, his brain didn’t often call him to action but his heart was much more dominant. She loves you just as much as I do - Though he’d lived more than one hundred years, most in the ocean, some on land, tortured, adored and a grand mix of the inbetween he was terribly uncomplicated. If you loved him, he loved you back. He pressed a thoughtful kiss to her forehead as a small thanks for matching his want to offer warmth. “Lil, I’d say you’re far in a way more qualified than I’d ever hope to be in talking to your sister, but... If you want me to, you know I’ll try.” It would be an earnest effort to. It was a great unknown as to what he’d be able to gleen from talking to Pandora but the least he could do was strike up a conversation and see where it went. “Did something happen?” There had to have been a trigger point, something that had diverged a path between them. “Did you fight about something? Surely there has to be some reason for all this, right?”
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semthesagaferir:
Kaya seriously doubts her brother feels tired, ever. She has never seen him sleep since he had turned. “Me too, or I’ll have to kill him.” There is a worried smirk on her face, like it was a joke, but really it wasn’t. The weight of the world always felt like it was on her shoulders and her brother was her responsibility. They were all each other had. “Yeah, but I don’t think it is the alcohol he comes for.” A small laugh. The drinks are quickly brought over to them and Kaya takes a sip as she has seen her father do many times before. The burn started at her lips and slid down her throat, the face she made showed she wasn’t a regular drinker, but the second sip wasn’t as bad. It was kind of nice actually. Still she put the glass down, knowing it wasn’t something you downed in one gulp unless you were used to drinking it. “It’s true. At least you have a nickname people can pronounce. No one ever knows how to pronounce my name correctly at first. Most assume it is Kay-uh instead of Kai-uh.” She finds herself forgetting all about Silas after a bit. It was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t on campus or her brother. To not be a wytch or college student, but just Kaya. “I have heard of it, but I have never been there. I spend most of my time at university, class or studying.”
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Vik didn’t have any brothers or sisters, he often wondered what the bond would look like for him. More people to lose, he supposed. Talia has an abundance by comparison but at that it was more competition than anything. He would have made for a good sibling to have, endlessly loyal and supportive always in search of deep connections. “Not the alcohol? Perhaps the company? Well---” The blond looked around and tried his best to be forgiving to the lack luster offerings. The bartender would be kept busy by his antics, finishing his drinks as soon as they were in front of him. Though lacking his syren status he still drank like a fish and happily so. Once his glass was kept full his wallet was open to each and every bar that hosted his late night time wasting. Vik had almost always been Vik, Evikaia a much more formal version of himself; preserved for a court he no longer belonged to. “What are you studying?” Vik had met many academics and had come to learn that college was a strange concept, some depending on it and some just enjoyed the perks it had to offer. For most humans it was a means to an end and he found it hard to correlate it into the sea. Even eleven years on it was still his baseline, he could barely remember the feel of the ocean again him but it’d always be his home even when they chose not to claim him.
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hellebergs:
where: thistledown botanical gardens
when: september 2020
who: open !!
Though the Victorian estate prided itself on the moniker of Thistledown, it was much more than a bed and breakfast. It had been her own residence stately residence when built, but she could not come to part with it as she came and went. Helle had a habit of dotting about the globe, out of her own epicurean curiosity or fleeing messes wrought by her own choices, and flirting with excuses to give to the Court when she was honored and burdened with more power. The Seelies longed to bind her hands tighter, to trap her in higher postions when she only longed to roam free. She had gone about carefully curating what could be her gilded cage. Her most prized additions were lush gardens and a labyrinthine hedge maze for the days she didn’t want to be found.
The feyrie was longing for a garden party – when an aftenoon with a string quartet gave way to clandestine debauchery as the night darkened, then lightened in the earliest hours. She longed for the moments of addled clarity that only struck when drunk, embraced beneath a silver moon. Until then, she contented herself lazing about in the slowly waning warmth as autumn crept ever in. Helle cupped a delicate bud between tender hands. She closed her eyes and let the faint perfume carry away with a soft breeze. Her fingers unfurled and a blossom soon followed, unfolding layers of white against the dark green hedge. Helle quickly retracted her touch, turning when footsteps neared. ❝All the bright, precious things fade so fast. It’s a marvel that these have stayed, isn’t it ??❞
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Vik took most of the opportunities he got to visit nature. Each field trip an attempt to understand the wilds as if they were his own. The cement of the city felt dead, solid and stoic while greenery spoke of life and growth. He hadn’t ever known it to be powerful like the sea but he was always willing to be educated; understanding that the cutthroat nature of a the ocean tide lent more in the favor of death than it did in life. This was unlike so many sprouts of flowery grass that seemed to find a way to life amongst the concrete, fighting between the gaps and looking to the sun. He’d found a way to live too, a piece of flowering seaweed washed just a hair too far from the shoreline.
Where better to go when in need of nature than Thistledown, one of the most idyllic places in all of South Dakota. For Vik it didn’t emanate supernatural misdeeds like most other places he’d been, but rather a serenity that he couldn’t quite explain. A day in the garden and a spot of tea was in order; he busied himself heavy handily pouring out the latter. “Not at all, why would they dare to go when in staying they are watched over by the most tender and beautiful bloom?” Her poetry was never lost on Vik, only matched. “Here you are, darling, perhaps you could show me your favorites?” Vik offered one of the teacups he’d fetched from the estate, filled to near overflowing with a fine vodka he’d brought along. No sense in showing up empty handed to a person who was always so overtly hospitable. A heart like hers and a heart like his lived in similar chapters, to share their tenderness.
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