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kariachi · 4 years

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Some reboot fic. Just because Hex cast aside his apprentice, doesn’t mean everybody agrees with the decision.

“Shortsightedness always was Hex’s most damning trait.” There was a brief time they’d thought Kahina had broken him of it, but no, apparently even to this day he focused too much on the now to see the potential of the future. With a flash of teeth like sabers she glanced back at the human child trotting in her shadow. Really, casting aside an apprentice so young for behaving childishly, as if she didn’t remember well when he had been the one with an underhanded hunger for knowledge and power. How many times had she and Kahina spoke of his attempts to steal spellbooks far beyond his skill?

Between him and her own chick, she was quite proud of that generation.

“So, where are we going,” the child asked, finally. He’d followed without question when she’d appeared and bid him come with her. Most human children did, when faced with a dragon. Those that didn’t flee in terror, useless to her, or insisted on finishing whatever matters they had at hand first. The latter tended to be the most steady, but then it wasn’t as if ‘steady’ was what she was going for with young Kevin.

“My halls,” she answered simply. “I’ve looked into you, your accomplishments and failures-” he hackled at that, how amusing “-and I’m quite interested in seeing you reach your full potential.” That calmed him, it seemed. There was the excess projected confidence of the insecure, but there wasn’t fear in excess. A good sign.

“I am pretty awesome,” he said. “And Hex said I would make a good sorcerer.” She didn’t doubt it, he had had so many words at his last visit, but still she barked out a laugh that made the boy tremble at the force of it. Her tail twitched over his head.

“A sorcerer, child I see much more than spells for you. Magic in your poetry, magic in your watch-” he clamped his hand over it, as if she might try to take it from him. Poor thing, thinking it was power enough to tempt her, who was older than knowing. “-no child, you are an artist first-” another word that calmed him, good “-and artists make for enchanters.”

She was happy to see a curious, thoughtful expression cross his face. There’d yet to be a proper enchanter in this age, the last fallen centuries ago to plague brought by those foreign to him.

She’d liked that one.

A long, low whistle came from the child as they reached the back of the cave and the glowing portal that sat there. It stretched wall to wall and floor to ceiling, more than large enough for even her bulk to pass through.

“Go on,” she urged him, and with a quickly hidden glance back for reassurance- trying so hard to not seem the child he was, poor dear- he did as he was told and stepped through.

“There’s nothing here,” he called a moment later, storming back from the very back wall of the cave with a glare on his face. “What gives?!”

She bit back a laugh, then walked through herself, taking a quick glance around her home before turning around and returning to the cave. He was staring at her. After all, the space he’d seen had been far too small to hold her. Calmly, she stepped passed him and curled up against one of the walls.

“My front door, as it were,” she explained. “Your test is to figure out how to get through it. I don’t care how you do it, magic, science, or what have you, as long as you do.”

He stared some more, schooling his face into a mask of cockiness.

“Easy.”

It took him an hour to stop trying to brute force it. Once he sat down to rest and look around, it took him ten minutes to figure out the trick. Then, another five to properly copy the runes on the walls and her scales onto the strap of his watch.

He was going to be a good one with a bit of teaching in him.

The portal had impressed him, but the sight of her home struck him mute and gaping. She couldn’t blame him, she had been forming and residing in these halls for millennia, her ambient draconic magic twisting everything within to brilliant opal. Every corner and carving shone.

“Those runes are important,” she explained as she entered behind him, sparing him any need to speak. “They can only be written if they’re the truth, and declare you welcome and pure of intentions.” He gave a small laugh.

“So, people need the runes to get in, but they can’t write the runes unless you want them here.”

“Yes.” He shifted slightly as she sent out a flare of magic, spurring an end table to go fetch some of the guest food. She was sure most of the others had been larger than him, and she would not have him poorly fed. “I have many portals around the world, all with the same runes. Just think about where you’d like to go, and the portal will take you to whichever of them is nearest your destination. You can then use it to come right back here.” Again he laughed, a grin beginning to grow on his face.

“Coool…” It was rather charming, really.

“One of your first lessons will be on reading and writing runes-” Hex had to have at least given him a start, he was too good not to “-so you’ll be able to put your own set around the entrance to your rooms.”

“Rooms?” His eyes went wide, and the grin stretched to match them. She couldn’t help her eyes crinkling in a draconic smile to match.

“Rooms, plural”

They had belonged to one of her chicks, and since they’d flown away had seen little use as anything but storage. But they were the closest to a fitting size for a human child, and she had cleared them out, magicking up some proper facilities, before going to fetch him. Besides, he seemed the sort who would appreciate the streaks of obsidian that still graced them.

“Make a list of what you’ll need,” she said as he darted around like a chick on their first visit to the outside, “and we’ll make sure you have it.” As it was, she’d had no wish to decorate for him. She intended to see him taught whatever he could learn, in all the subjects he should- from magic to literature to modern technology- and for that he needed to be comfortable. So, she’d made sure he had a bookshelf, a desk, chair, and bed. Nothing more. “You can assign whichever of the rooms whatever duty you need.”

He didn’t answer her, just nodding as he flashed passed. This time she allowed herself to chuckle once more. The end table went passed her, settling against one wall, loaded down with meats, fruits, cheeses, and drinks to the point if it hadn’t been magicked the stability of its gemstone form would’ve been in question. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, backing out into the hallway. “The table will lead you to the dining hall for dinner, we can discuss matters further there.”

Yes, this would be worth the time and the effort. There were so few with the knack, even among dragons, it simply wouldn’t do to leave it to wither and die.

#fanfic #hex: fuck it i don't need an apprentice #dragon who watched *hex* grow from apprentice to master: okay then i'll take him #hex: *is a menace as an apprentice*#kevin: *is a menace as an apprentice*#hex: what did i do to deserve this i'm a good person

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thenightling · 4 years

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My top thirteen favorite individual Sandman issues (Opinion)

Keep reading below...

Warning: Contains some spoilers.

13. The Sandman Special 1: Song of Orpheus.

The Song of Orpheus is a backstory revealing Morpheus’ falling out with his son Orpheus and the slight revisions Neil Gaiman made to the classic Greek myth of Orpheus visiting The Underworld to try to retrieve his wife.

In The Sandman, Morpheus is Orpheus’ estranged father. I love the character of Morpheus but I’ll put it bluntly right here and now. He used to be an asshole. He may have even been easy to brand as a villain during his backstory.

Much of The Sandman is Morpheus’s redemption, setting right the terrible wrongs of his past. And in Brief lives he is forced to face the sins of his past in regard to how he treated his son. But here is where we get that tragic backstory and a raw, cold taste of what a jerk Morpheus used to be as a contrast to how much he grows later.

12. Sound of her Wings (The Sandman issue 8)

The Sound of Her wings is the issue of The Sandman that introduces us to Death of The Endless, Dream’s older sister (though she looks younger). Today she is the official living embodiment of Death for all of DC comics. Though I have to confess the main reason I like this one is how adorkable Morpheus is when he’s feeding birds. And that happy expression on his face at the end of the issue. You don’t see that too often with him.

11. Calliope (The Sandman Issue 17)

Just as Song of Orpheus shows us the assholary of Morpheus’ past, Calliope shows us just how much he has changed. The story is brutal and difficult to read but you also get to see Morpheus as an avenging angel figure, saving his ex-wife from an abusive master who sees her as something less than human.

Poor Calliope was captured and enslaved by mortals who have abused her in the most sadistic and insidious ways. It’s not just a man abusing a woman (that’s bad enough) but you also see a dehumanization. The writer currently exploiting and abusing poor Calliope has thought processes along the lines of “It would be wrong if she was a real woman.”

The fact that she is a muse- a supernatural entity- causes him to treat her as something less than a human being. This is actually a recurrence in The Sandman as we also saw how inhumanely Morpheus’ own captors treated him.

What happens to Calliope is a chilling display of the inhumanity that could also be an allegory for casual misogyny and to a certain extent, even racism. The cruelty is such that it’s hard to feel sympathy when Morpheus unleashes his anger on Calliope’s abuser.

This is also the first time we almost see Morpheus apologize to someone for his previous behavior but he doesn’t actually start doing that until The Season of Mists.

10. Soft Places (The Sandman Issue 39)

Soft Places is a story that can be read at nearly any point in The Sandman. What I like most about this issue is if you pay careful attention you realize that when Morpheus makes his appearance in this story he is actually between issues 1 and 2 of The Sandman. He was on his way back to the castle, weakened from his long captivity. And Marco Polo (lost in time and space) shows him pity and compassion and offers him his water. For this reason Morpheus helps him to get back home.

Morpheus sacrifices the last of his own strength to do this, leaving himself at the indefinite mercy of The Soft Place. Thankfully Gregory (the rather dog-like Gargoyle) finds him and takes him home to his master, Cain at The House of Mystery.

Not only did this give a satisfying story between the first two issues but also teased an what was yet to come and what was happening “Off camera” after the events of A Game of you.

9. The Wake: Epilogue: Sunday Morning (The Sandman issue 73)

I always liked Hob Gadling (Morpheus’ immortal / formerly human) friend. Here we get a brief story about Robert “Hob” Gadling. He also tells about a dream he had and he is given the chance to die but (as always) chooses against it.

Hob’s indefinite life may have actually secured Morpheus’ own posthumous existence as a Dream Entity. The dream Hob had in this story was of Morpheus (after his death) and Destruction of The Endless. Here’s the thing though. At the time Hob had this dream Destruction really was visiting The Dreaming. And Hob had no idea what connection Destruction had with his deceased friend. He only knew Destruction as a street artist he had seen once.

The implication I get here is that Daniel brought Morpheus back as a dream entity. And with someone like Hob there to potentially dream of him eternally that secures Morpheus’ post-humous existance and freedom from having to be Dream of The Endless for all eternity. This is how I choose to interpret it. Call me a dreamer. ;-)

The artwork is also gorgeous in all of The Wake.

8. Midsummer Night’s Dream (The Sandman issue 19)

A Midsummer Night’s Dream happens to be my favorite Shakespearean play so this was a real treat. We got a fun story and a dark yet also delightfully wicked version of Robin Goodfellow (Puck). And we got a loving nod to Shakespearean history.

Morpheus has Shakspeare perform the A Midsummer Night’s Dream play for the real faery court. And all sort of things happen as well.

If you pay attention you notice Titania tempts Shakespeare’s little son. She also lures him to eat faery fruit. And anyone who knows faery lore knows what that mean. She has laid claim to the boy. He will become a faery and belong to her. And that is a nice, bitter-sweet way of addressing the loss of Shakespeare’s little boy.

The story also has one of the most unforgettable Sandman quotes. “Tales and dreams are the shadow truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ash, and forgot.”

7. Overture Part 6 (The Sandman Overture Part 6)

I love The Sandman: Overture with all my heart. And it was difficult to pick a specific issue of it to be a favorite. I chose part 6 because this is the moment where Dream, Desire, and Hope save the universe. The metaphor is brilliantly obvious.

The artwork is gorgeous. And we get to see both Dream and Desire be heroes (”just for one day.”)

You also get to see exactly what happened to Morpheus right before his capture in The Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes.

6. The Doll’s House Part 4: Men of Good Fortune. (The Sandman issue 13)

I mentioned before that I love Hob Gadling. This is the story that introduced us to him. Not only do we get the backstory of Morpheus’ immortal friend but we also get to see our proud antagonist finally swallow his pride and admit that yes, he has a friend. It’s one of the sweetest issues of The Sandman while also showing how people (in general) don’t really change. Individuals might but human beings are still human beings and the complaints of the thirteenth century are eerily similar to the complaints of the late twentieth century. This story is also the first time (I think) we see Morpheus say his indignant “You dare?”

5. The Parliament of Rooks (The Sandman Issue 40)

This is a fun issue. Baby Daniel lucid dreams his way to The House of Secrets where Eve, Cain, and Abel tell stories to him. Eve tells her own “three-in-one” tale and Abel introduces us to the concept of “Lil Endless.”

4. Season of Mists Part 2. (The Sandman issue 23)

This was a great issue. After all the build up of Morpheus planning to return to Hell to rescue Nada (whom he wrongfully left there ten-thousand-years before) and the fear and dread involved with going back there we find out that Lucifer has quit.

Lucifer explains to Morpheus why he’s shutting down Hell (Dialogue adapted by the Lucifer TV series for a conversation between Lucifer and Linda). He the asks Morpheus to help him cut off his own wings and finally Lucifer leave Morpheus with the key to Hell.

Now poor Morpheus must figure out what to do with the abandoned dimension and deal with the various Gods, goddesses and creatures of mythology and folklore who have come to try to lay claim to it.

3. Sleep of The Just (The Sandman issue 1)

This is the very first issue of The Sandman and it was very different from the first issue of any other comic book I had ever read before. A LOT happened here. Where most comic book writers would have taken this story told in this issue and stretched it out for twelve issues, this was concise and brilliantly written.

The Order of Ancient Mysteries, lead by Roderick Burgess, summon and trap Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless. They were trying to summon his sister, Death, but got him by mistake. He is held prisoner for seventy-two-years before finally escaping and seeking revenge on his captor.

What I like most about this issue is that the story really ropes you in and the internal artwork reminds me of a classic horror comic, something I really appreciated.

2. A hope in Hell (The Sandman Issue 4)

This is The Sandman issue where I truly realized I was reading something utterly different. When I first started reading The Sandman it was mostly to learn Lucifer’s comic book back story but I fast got hooked on THIS story and forgot all about Luci.

I must confess that though I am a life-long comic book reader I have a habit of skimming or out right skipping most combat scenes. I find them boring and often over the top. (I was a teenager in the 90s and early 2000s and got burnt out on over-the-top action scenes a long time ago). So I fully anticipated having to skim over certain parts of The Sandman.

However...

It was when I got to “the battle” in A Hope in Hell that I finally let my guard down and realized this was something completely different. This was never going to be like any other comic I had ever read. There would be no giant factory explosions or characters punching each other on busy center-fold pages full of sound effects and fire.

When I got the line “I am hope.” I finally let my guard down and understood the real magick in what I was reading. That was the moment I fell in love with The Sandman.

Also I love David Bowie.

1. Imperfect Hosts (The Sandman issue 2).

As you may have guessed A hope in Hell PROBABLY should be at number 1 on this list but I have a soft spot for Imperfect Hosts for what a delightful surprise it was for me.

I love Gothic Horror. I grew up loving anthology horror like Tales from the crypt. Imagine my surprise to discover The Sandman’s minion “Nightmares” entailed old school horror hosts. Even Destiny of The Endless, the mad mod witch (The Fashion Thing) ,The Hecatae, and Lucien The Librarian were all old horror hosts.

To see someone like the Crypt Keeper-esque Cain taking care of the weakened Dream Lord was a treat for me. I also noticed the loving homages to horror comics artist Bernie Wrightson.

Bernie Wrightson holds a special place in my heart because many years ago my mother gave me a large coloring book signed by Bernie Wrightson. I didn’t recongize the name but she recongized his style as something I like. And she was right. It turned out I already had several books that had been drawn by him but had never checked the name. I have long since lost that coloring book... and my mother... But Bernie was a reminder of how well she sometimes knew me. And this issue reminded me of Bernie Wrightson and so reminded me of her. So Imperfect Hosts had to take the number 1 spot.

It also introduced us to the adorable baby Goldie.

#Neil Gaiman's The Sandman #The Sandman #Neil Gaiman

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ophdian · 5 years

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Something I feel people often forget is that Loki, Thor, Odin, Frigga, ect ect, are ACTUALLY GODS that can and have been worshiped. Aliens? Yes. But who’s to say our definition of Godliness was not defined by an alien presence? “God” is not a title simply bestowed upon them by awestruck Midgardians, and it’s not something said purely out of vanity or an inflated sense of self! Asgardians themselves refer to the Æsir as gods. Multiple times has Odin has said Goddess of Death, God of Thunder, God of Mischief– which is both very MEANINGFUL and very purposeful, folks! This isn’t to say that ALL Asgardians are gods, however. Only the Æsir happen to be such, and Asgardian perceptions of Gods are certainly vastly different than ours given that the Gods literally live among them, but they are Gods nonetheless.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒:

PRAYERS

OFFERINGS

LOKI’S BLESSING

LONGEVITY

SEIDR

MORE TO BE ADDED!

quick disclaimer before I get into this. My views on how godliness affects Loki / fellow AEsir is certainly influenced by Norse paganism, but I am by no means claiming this is 100% accurate on how to worship the actual Norse God Loki. This is for my portrayal of MARVEL’s Loki only. As a pagan myself I tried to keep it as true to actual worship I could while also beefing it up given how much of a physical presence Loki has in the Marvel universe.

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒.

Most the time they come like eldritch whispers through the universe, crackling with Seiðr and hope. Mere impressions of words and meaning, a chilling breeze from far, far off charged with intent curling over unsuspecting flesh. But sometimes actual voices come through, distorted by the universe itself and the intent the prayer has. Loki would be surprised to hear a full voice nowadays, though. How clearly a prayer is heard is directly affected by:

1) How much the person truly BELIEVES in Loki. Not just as a real person, but as an entity with power and ability. As a force of nature who can assist his devoted. As a leader and as their patron. 2) How devoted you are to Loki as a patron. If you’d rather ask for advice from, mm, say THOR, Loki might intentionally screen you out. 3) How far they are from Loki. If Loki is on Asgard and the person praying to him is on Midgard, he will likely hear them clearly about ½ of the time (without taking the other factors into account). 4) how much the person praying truly NEEDS or DESIRES whatever they’re praying for. If Someone is on Midgard and fully believes in Loki but is praying for something trivial, like a video game, Loki probably won’t hear it.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.

Altars! Sacrifices! Offerings! Things done in His Name! Do they actually matter?

You bet your Loki-loving ass they do! In the words of Odin:

Hast thou a friend whom thou trustest well, from whom thou cravest good? Share thy mind with him, gifts exchange with him, fare to find him oft. (Havamal, stanza 44; Olive Bray translation)

AKA, if you trust a somebody and you want to be in his favor, talk to him and give him gifts! And you too will receive good.

Offering or sacrificing something to Loki probably the best way you can honor him or show your devotion– and that’s not just because he appreciates the sentiment. They become actual gifts to him. You don’t have to use a shrine or an altar to make your offerings, but using them does add a little extra Umph to whatever you’re sending his way. Leave a shot of whiskey on his altar, Loki will drink it. Burn one of his favorite meals, he will taste it. Read a poem aloud or serenade him, he’ll hear it. Kick some phobic douchebag’s ass in his name, he’ll be temporarily emboldened with a little extra power (and also be super of proud of you). There are some things he doesn’t like – if you offer up a sugary tub of ice cream, his lactose intolerant, sugar-disliking ass will certainly make sure you know not to do it again– but for the most part he’ll be happy to receive whatever it is you have to offer.

𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈'𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆.

Loki doesn’t quite have as many devotees nowadays, BUT if you manage to gain his favor you are a potential candidate to receive what is known as LOKI’S BLESSING– a sigil specially made for you from Loki! If worn (be it embroidered into your clothes, drawn on with sharpie, or branded into your flesh) it will embolden you with Loki’s power, allowing even the most magically challenged of individuals to reap the rewards of bare-bones magic manipulation.

With this sigil you can create blasts of energy, force fields, minor illusions, and with enough practice even gain the ability to create weapons formed from raw magick assist you as you so need. If you wear it while praying, there’s about 99% chance he’ll hear you loud and clear– within reason, of course. If y’all are on opposite sides of the universe, expect some interference. Loki’s Blessing also works as a sort of marker against theft. When you wear it, it tells other Gods who you belong to follow so they won’t harm, steal, or otherwise try to yoink you from Loki’s grasp.

The only downside to this blessing is that if you turn to a more temporary means of wearing it, such as on a necklace or drawn onto your body, the mark will become void of power and meaning if it gets smudged, broken, or otherwise tampered with.

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘.

Before, I was abiding by the vaguely canon MCU life expectancy of Asgardians, 5,000, but honestly that highkey does not feel like enough for me! These are GODS, who are likely lavishing in the Apples of Iðunn, AKA the Fruits of Immortality. They definitely live more than a measly 5,000 years. My personal breakdown of it is: Average Asgardian lifespan: 3,000 Average Æsir lifespan: 8-10,000 Average lifespan of those who consume Iðunn’s apples (primarily the Royal Family): eternal! (but they can be killed by non-natural means)

by no means do you have to abide by this if you’re rping an Asgardian with me! That’s simply how it goes on the Asgard my Loki comes from. Aren’t canon divergency and multiverses fun?

𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐑.

Seiðr, old norse shamanism, most notably practiced by the Norns via woven thread to create fate- but I like to think this term can branch out to all forms of Asgardian magic. All Æsir have some form of it naturally, and that natural ability is usually what determines what exactly they’re considered the god of. Magic focusing on Lightning and storms? God of Thunder. Magic focusing on illusions and trickery? God of Mischief. But the Gods are certainly not the only ones who can use Seiðr! Every Asgardian has the potential to learn magic but it’s rare that a non-godly creature will ever become as powerful or skilled as the Æsir can be with the proper training and study.

#⟨ HEADCANON ⟩#⟨ OUT OF CHARACTER ⟩

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dionysus-is-my-dude · 5 years

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Fae - Chapter One

Go easy on me, guys. I’ve never posted original works on here before. I’m an exposition nut, and I haven’t decided on our little human dollhouse maker’s name. What do you guys think it should be? Also, yes, I type in UK English. Sue me. Enjoy!

Fae 1

Humans have nearly destroyed what's left of the Old World. You may not remember what it was like. Hardly any of us do that live today. The elves perhaps, but no one sees them anymore. They live in complete isolation, unwilling to allow any kind privy to their history and knowledge. Many dwarves have integrated with the human world, those wonderful miners and crafters. Humans just think they are short people with a talent for jewelry and gold. I don't know what has become of mermaids, but I do know that sirens have come to land and become quite wealthy as popular performers.

You may be wondering, "All these mythical creatures, but what are YOU?" Well, as evident by my lovely wings, tiny stature, and use of magick, it's quite plain to see that I am a fairy. A sprite, if you'd prefer. Fae folk live in the forests these days, casting circles of mushrooms and flowers to dance and celebrate in, causing mischief for any human who passes by, but generally staying far from your loud and chaotic towns. Fae folk mainly live in small kingdoms, named after the tree we live in or the area of the forest we're in. I live in the Great Oak kingdom, named so because our tree is the largest oak tree in the forest. A perfect place for such a large kingdom of fairies to live and thrive. We have survived for so long due to how deep into the vast forest our tree has grown in. Most humans do not come this far, and the ones that do see nothing due to our glamour.

You see, in the Old World, humans were quite jealous of the elves, fairies, and other creatures of magick and wealth. Humans are known far and wide for their endless greed and thievery, and would hunt us down, either enslaving us or killing us to take our treasures for themselves. That is why so many of us have gone into deep hiding, to protect our descendants from the pain that humans bring. It's the highest law in the Great Oak kingdom, in fact, to never show yourself to any human. For if you are caught, they will take you back to their world and you will never be seen again.

Contrary to what you may have heard about fairies, we are not lazy. The elves are the lazy folk, drinking and feasting and reading all day long. We fairies, on the other hand, can be very busy creatures. In a kingdom as large as mine, there is always a job to be done. Cooking, cleaning, creating tools, weaving, food-collecting, and everything else that go into keeping a kingdom running safely and smoothly. Everyone has a job to do, and mine is important. I'm a seamstress. Fairies in the olden days wore no clothes, but along the way, when humans and their strange fashions were introduced to us, many decided that they wanted to look even more beautiful than they already do. Not EVERYONE wears clothes, especially in the Summer, but whenever there is a celebration or formal feast, you will see many fairies dressed in the finest spiderweb silk and flower petals. Seamstresses are very highly thought of in our kingdom, especially in the court. Anyone who can create gorgeous gowns and ensembles that the royal court will be seen in is considered especially talented.

I work very hard everyday to create designs, collect my materials, and sew them together to make something that the PRINCE may wear. My family has been sewing for the court for a VERY long time, and I take great pride in my work. It makes me immensely proud to attend a celebration and see my pieces being worn.

Ah, but...I often become quite bored. My favourite FAVOURITE thing to do is to leave the tree to go out and find materials. Spiderwebs are popular, as is silkworm silk, but those ARE rather easy to find, though they are considered the most beautiful as they are so delicate. But I adore using flowers and their petals. Unlike silk and spiderwebs, petals only last a short while. You only wear them once or twice before the petals wither and grow dark and hard. That is why so few of the ladies in the court wear them. What good is a gown that dies and becomes ugly only a short time after you wear it?

Still, they're my favourite to make, and I spend a good part of my days flying about the forest, searching for the perfect flowers, and even herbs, if I find any. The Wide Wood provides very few but lovely flowers for me. The pink plums, bearberries, magnolias, and the flowers before they bear fruit on many trees and shrubs. With such a small variety to choose from, I'm always seeking further from the boundaries of the kingdom, searching for something new, something everyone will remember me for.

So I gather supplies into my bag, including a little food if I don't return right away, and make my way out of my home. It's a very nice home, a hollow notch in the tree filled with sewing tools and my bed, which is a small nest that a cardinal abandoned filled with soft moss. Many fairies prefer nice beds, crafted by the wood-workers of a birch tree nearby and softened by woven spiderwebs. But I like the nest. It makes me feel safer and warmer on cold, Winter nights.

With my bag over my shoulder, I flit over to my doorway and look out at the view. It's the end of Winter, the Pussywillow trees beginning to bloom. We'll all be using them as pillows soon. There is no more snow on the ground, but the air is still chill, so I'm wearing my thick shawl made of the pelt of a squirrel. Those in the court would never wear pelts. Only the workers and collectors wear them, as they leave the tree the most. But I refuse to freeze to death to gather my flower petals, so I tighten my belt and take off into the brisk air.

I can't imagine how jealous humans must be of us, of our beautiful wings and ability to fly. It's said that, if a human holds you and believes they can fly, then they will, but only so long as they hold you. I've been told that holding a fairy makes you very happy, too. It's no wonder that humans kidnap us. So unhappy with their greedy, dull lives that they will steal their happiness if need be. Flying through the trees never fails to bring me joy. Seeing the forest floor from high above, the scurrying ground animals and the moss, flying side-by-side with the birds and insects, it's incredible. How could a human ever feel like this? This free?

There are markers everywhere to tell me where I am. And a lost fairy will ALWAYS be able to return to her home tree, besides. A certain patch of mushrooms here, a patch of moss there. All places I've already explored. I want to see more. And today, today I will search further. I NEED to know what else is out there!

So I fly past the boundaries of the kingdom, uncaring of what I may find. We're so deep in the forest. I doubt I'd reach the edge in only a day. I should be just fine.

There are messes of fallen leaves upon the ground, everything still sleeping and withered from Winter's icy hold. I'm not expecting to find anything blooming right now. It's still too early for Spring. I pass by a Pussywillow, unable not to stop and run my hands and cheeks all over one of the fuzzy parts. So soft, like a caterpillar.

Flying East against the Sun is where I know the edge of the forest is. The ones who have reached that far say it's a full day's journey, and that they've seen humans pass in big, machines that move very fast. It does not sound very interesting to me. I want to see what's beyond that road that the humans have created. But, not today. Today, I want to stay within the forest.

I fly lower and decide to land on a patch of moss to eat some of my honey. I HAVE been flying for some time now. Looking around, I see just a seemingly-endless amount of tall trees and shrubs. It's very quiet, even in the middle of the day. The birds are only just beginning to return from their journey down South. Soon, the forest will be filled with their melodies as they attract a mate and lay their eggs, bringing more beautiful songs into the trees.

Once I've rested and regained my strength, I'm back in the air, flying lower this time to get a better view of what's on the ground. Some leaves, but it's too late to collect them. I grab a few acorns, though. They're good for hats, and we make pancakes out of them. Ohhh, but I reach a few pine trees! I immediately dive down and find a pinecone, breaking off the pieces and stuffing them into my bag. These are uncomfortable to wear, but the furniture crafters use them to make many things. Fairies love decorations, and we often change them with the seasons.

A squirrel scurries past me, and it's when I watch it run off that I see it. A house. A human's house. It looks smaller than I'd imagined they would be. Granted, I've never seen a human before. How big are they? Does only one live there? I stay on the ground, staring at it. There are no signs that anyone is home. No smoke from the chimney, no lights from candles, and there isn't one of those large machines. Perhaps it's abandoned! Imagine what they may have left behind!

Steeling my nerves, I fly over to the house and find a window, but there are curtains blocking the view inside. I fly around, looking for a way in, letting out a shout of success when I find one window cracked open just enough for me to slide through.

Inside, the house is dark, but fairies have very good eyes. And we cast our own illumination with our fairy dust. Just looking around, I see a bed, a dresser, a table, a very small kitchen, and...a little house, just my size. With no human in sight, I hesitantly float down to it. It really is a little house! But only half! It's open like you're meant to reach inside and move things around. It looks much nicer than this little house the human lives in. Why don't they live here? Or is this made for their children? How small are human children?

Nothing is real in the little house, though, when I push on things and lay in the bed, finding it very uncomfortable and the blanket much too thin to feel warm. Why would a human make this? What is it for? The furniture in it is very nice. The table is too small for me, but it would make a lovely little bedside table. There is even a desk with frozen, clear water on it so I can see myself, and I sit there and look at my long, brown curls and large, hazelnut eyes. Yes, I was named Hazelnut due to my eyes, though many simply call me Hazel.

I wish I was able to carry this desk home with me. I suppose I could make it lighter with my magick, but that would take so much energy out of me. Such a shame. I wonder if there is any human food I could bring back with me? Flitting over to the kitchen, I open cupboards to find boxes and jars of sweet-smelling things. There is a jar of honey shaped like a bear that is almost as tall as I am! And there's this white crystal-like spice that's really, really sweet. There are a lot of spices I've never seen before, but some are sweet and others are spicy. Strange. Where do these spices come from? What kind of food does this human put them on?

I'm so caught up in my many questions that I don't sense the human returning. I fly down and hide under the bed as the door opens, frozen in fear as the human appears. I cannot tell if it's a girl or boy. They look tall and lean, with very short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. They are wearing uncomfortable-looking, dark blue pants and a patterned shirt with long sleeves and many buttons. And their boots look much bigger than any that the men wear back home. Their face seems so different yet so similar to my kind's. Not as beautiful, with sharp lines instead of soft cheeks. Their skin is pale compared to mine, as well, not kissed by the Sun after so many years of celebrations. Do all humans look like that? They look sick.

I watch the human set down a bag and take off their boots, going to the kitchen and opening some kind of chest that is holding even more food, releasing air as cold as the wind outside into the room. They pull out a bottle of what must be water before closing the chest, moving to sit at the little table to drink from it. They say nothing. They don't really look at anything either. They just...sit and drink, utterly alone and clearly sad. What are they sad about? That they are alone here? Don't they have a kingdom of their own? Or a town to belong to? Don't they have any friends or family? I've heard that humans are commonly found living together. So why is this one here on their own?

They eventually sigh and put the half-empty bottle back into the cold chest. I freeze and rush back when they start walking towards the bed, but they don't see me, and the bed creaks when they climb up onto it. I hear the rustle of the blanket, then silence. Are they going to sleep so early? The Sun is still up! Is this because they're sad?

I stay under the bed for a long time, but the human doesn't move more than once, so they MUST be asleep, yes? Just in case, I cast a glamour on myself before emerging and floating up. The human IS asleep, thank goodness, but they still seem so unhappy. There's a wrinkle between their brows, and they even look like they're frowning. So sad, even in sleep? So strange. Fairies are very jovial creatures. Elves were, too, at one time in history. Dwarves have magnificent feasts and greatly enjoy singing and dancing. They're quite like us in that regard. But humans, at least from what I've been told by some of the elders in The Great Oak kingdom, are often so sad and miserable with their lives. They find little joy in anything other than power and wealth. Humans often eat alone, live alone, go through their whole lives alone. They barely sing, they hardly dance. Certainly not with each other.

I lift myself up onto the bed and sit, just looking at this human. What makes them sad? Is it because they're alone, out here in the forest? Do they not have any friends or family to spend time with? Oh, perhaps they are dead? Maybe that's why they're so upset.

My own parents are gone. My father abandoned my mother when I was born, leaving behind his entire heritage to grow and live life as a human. My mother passed some time ago, too heartsick to go on. We fairies are so tiny, it's difficult to handle our emotions, especially at the same time. My mother was happy to have me and watch me grow, to teach me the craft of needlework. But she felt heartbreak too great from my father's abandonment. Sadness and loneliness swallowed her whole, until she couldn't fly, couldn't use her magick, and simply wasted away. It was horrible to watch her get weaker and weaker. I tried to ease her passing with my own magick, and I swore to myself that I would never feel the heartbreak of love.

Perhaps THAT is why this human is so sad. They have felt that pain and emptiness, and it hurts ME to see them so unhappy. If I could cease their pain, just long enough for them to sleep soundly, that would be enough. So I carefully move closer, enough to feel their warm breath. Reaching up to gently place my hand on their forehead, I think of happy thoughts: my mother teaching me to fly, showing her the first dress I ever made, the pride on her face. Even remembering those moments puts a smile on my face, and I feel the warm, loving energy move through me and into the human. They gasp softly, still very much asleep, but the crease between their brows slowly disappears, colour returning to their cheeks as a soft smile graces their face, as does mine as I take my hand away. Sleep is important. And good dreams make all the difference.

I fly back down under the bed to grab my back, cast one more look at the dreaming human with that smile, and feel warmth seep into my fingers and toes at the sight. They look much more appealing when they're smiling. With pride humming in my chest, I squeeze out the cracked window and make my way back home.

"Where WERE you? You were gone for HOURS!" is the first thing I hear when I return to my bedroom. My friend, Thorn, the fastest flyer in our kingdom, is hovering in the air above my bed, arms and legs crossed and a very pouty expression on her face.

"I was out collecting things. You know I do that often," I tell her honestly, setting my heavy bag down. "I, unfortunately, didn't find anything all that interesting." Except a human, but she definitely doesn't need to know that. She would go out of her way to cause nothing but mischief for them.

"But you were gone such a long time," she pouts, blowing a long, black strand of hair out of her face. "I was getting worried."

I sigh, wishing I could simply be left alone for the rest of the day. "I appreciate your concern, Thorn, I do. But I'm expected to create the best outfits for the court. I can't simply use the same materials over and over. They'll become bored of me!"

"No one is bored of you," she assures me, flitting over to squeeze my shoulders. "You're the most talented seamstress in the kingdom. Everyone knows how creative you are. You have the most interesting ideas for dresses and costumes. But you know I worry about you when you go off on your own. You KNOW there are humans that sometimes come to the forest." I do my best to mask my fear of her finding out that I actually TOUCHED one. "You know what humans can do to us fairy folk. If they catch you, they'll take you away and suck all the magick out of you."

She huffs and pulls me into her arms. "I'm so scared of losing you like that, Hazel. You're my best friend. The only one to talk sense into me. What would I do without you?"

I hug her back just as tight. "You'd fight for me. I know you would. You'd pull your worst tricks on the human, bite and kick and pinch them until they let me go."

"You're damn right, I would," she agrees. "I wish you'd let me come with you when you go out."

"And take all the fun out of showing you what I've collected?" I tease.

"I'd rather have YOU than some floozy flower petals."

I rest my cheek on her shoulder and sigh. Thorn has always been protective of me. I was such a clumsy babe, always falling out of the tree and hurting myself. She would always catch me before I hit the ground, but if I scraped my legs or hurt my wings, she'd take care of me right away. My mother was fond of her, but told me not to do as she does, for she's quite the trickster. If you hear of humans running from the forest in fear or annoyance, it's because of Thorn playing tricks on them. She claims it's to protect us, but we really know she just likes to play. As the fastest flyer, she delivers messages to and fro. She likes knowing everyone's business, so it certainly is the perfect job for her. But she always makes time to spend with me. And I'm very grateful to her for keeping me company since Mother passed.

"I've grown a lot, you know," I remind her. "I'm not the clumsy child you once knew."

"I know. But I still feel responsible for you," she tells me, then lets me go and smiles. "Come, get changed. You must look nice for supper."

"I can't outshine the court, you know. It would be improper," I smile, watching her flit over to my wardrobe to choose a gown for me.

"You outshine them all the same," she says dismissively with a wave of her hand, then pulls out a simple, white, shawl made of spiderwebs.

I'm the only fairy accepted in the court to bare so much of my nude body. I feel far more comfortable nude, but those in the high court view nudity as an archaic thing. They are constantly clothed in the very finest fashions that I've created for them. But they think of my preference to nudity as "eccentric" and "traditional", and therefore, they allow me to wear what I please, which is generally very little.

I let Thorn dress me in the delicate shawl, and she tells me about her day running messages as she braids my hair before flying with me to the high branches, where the court holds their feasts. She isn't allowed to dine with us, due to her being of a lower class, but she is very encouraging of me being accepted amongst the royals.

She is the only one to know of my disdain for dining here every night, and she is sworn to secrecy never to let ANYONE else know about it.

The Great Oak court is comprised of the royal family -King Stone, Queen Laurelai, and Prince Cedar-, and then various members of nobility, royal bodyguards, and the like. They are very high-class and invested in art, music, and every other important aspect of our culture. For the most part, they are very kind folk. They ARE the ones that do their best to keep us safe and peaceful. And, well, they ARE the ones giving me a job. I'm very thankful for their acceptance and patronage.

I'm escorted to a speaking room, where several of dignitaries are gathered in conversation. Here in the high court, you engage with each other before being called to supper. Afterwards, we'll go to a sitting room to drink and engage for a while longer.

I recognize several of his Majesty's advisers and other high-ranking members of the court, who turn and smile when I entre the room. "Ah, Lady Hazelnut has arrived!" Lord Chamberlain, Ash, declares, his cheeks already very flushed from the pre-supper wine.

"Here I am," I smile in return, flying over to his small group. "Good evening, everyone."

"Good evening, my lady," Lady Ember replies. "Are you drinking this evening?"

"I'll have one or two glasses of wine, yes. You know I'm not the safest flyer when drunk."

The dignitaries chuckle heartily at the joke. "I understand, my lady," Lady Ember says. "Tonight is not much of a celebration. Simply another night until Spring. Stay here. I shall fetch you a glass."

"Thank you, my lady."

"I heard you were out quite late today, Lady Hazelnut," Lord Briar notes. "Your friend, Thorn, seemed intent to organize a search party."

"She's a kind friend, no doubt, but I assure you, I was perfectly safe," I assure everyone.

"Well, did you find anything interesting?" Lady North asks. They're always so excited when I find something I like, which warms my heart to know they're so fascinated by my explorations. They never truly leave the tree.

"I found a pine tree that grew the fattest pinecones I've ever seen," I say dramatically. The high court members LOVE a good story, and I'm told I'm quite good at telling them. "Too large for me to even pick up! I filled nearly half my bag with all the chips off of it. Oh! And on my way back, I was attacked by a crow!"

My audience gasps in shock. "How ever did you make it back in one piece?" Lady Ember asks, having now returned with a cup of wine for me. "I don't see a single scratch on you."

"I had to use all my strength to swing my bag at him, screaming my head off until he fled," I explain. "All he took from me was a few strands of hair, thankfully. I nearly lost an eye!"

"You really should take a guard with you," Lord Briar advises me. "You really are such a tiny thing, my lady. I'm amazed you haven't so much as broken a wing."

"I was raised well, I hope?"

"Indeed," Lady North declares, lifting her glass. "To Lady Hazelnut's safe travels!"

"Here, here!" we cheer, clinking our cups together.

We chat for a short while longer about more mundane things, like how the kingdom is running and the minor issues being dealt with over the course of the day. Finally, we're called to the dining room, which is the second largest room in the tree -the first being the ballroom for parties when it's too cold to go outside. The bark here is so shiny, you can see your reflection, the table long and wide to accommodate all of us and our food. I take my place near the far end of the table, waiting beside everyone else as the Page announces the arrival of the King, Queen, and Prince.

King Stone is exactly as you'd imagine a fairy king to be, if you've ever imagined a fairy king. He's tall and imposing, but with kind eyes and a loud voice that is easily heard by his subjects. Queen Lauralei is beautiful, of course, with flowing, golden hair and bright, blue eyes. She delights all who gaze upon her. And finally, Prince Cedar appears behind his parents. Every bit as tall as his father, with the golden hair of his mother and her blue eyes, he's a very handsome man. Many girls tell me I'm very lucky to be able to dine with him, even though I've told them that he and I sit on opposite ends of the table and never interact over dinner. I'm more than happy to not make a fool of myself where the royal family can see. At least the advisers think I'm simply entertaining when I make jokes and give details about designs I have for any upcoming celebration. We have many throughout the year.

We wait for the King and Queen to welcome us to supper and take their seats before we sit as well. Food and drink is quickly set on the table by staff, and conversations about court duties and other such high-class things lull the room into a peaceful setting. I do very much enjoy partaking in the court traditions. I enjoy entertaining the nobility and hearing the inner workings of our kingdom. Even though I'm simply a seamstress, being at the high dining table makes me feel more important. Like I'm a part of the bigger picture.

"Prince Cedar is apparently asking about your travels today," Lord Briar informs me when word has reached our end of the table.

My stomach twists, my smile suddenly shaky. "Oh? Why would such a brave prince be concerned about little, old me? Does he not have other things to worry about?" Damn, that last sentence came out a little snippish.

"He's quite enamoured with you, you know," Lady North grins. "He often pulls you aside to speak in private, does he not?"

My stomach twists tighter, my hands beginning to sweat as my face flushes. "He simply asks about what I have planned for his attire at the next celebration." That's not a COMPLETE lie.

"Is that ALL you two talk about?" Lady North pushes.

No, but I refuse to speak of it to anyone but Thorn. "Just that," I lie, pushing aside my second cup of wine. The last thing I want to do is get drunk enough to confess everything.

The rest of supper goes smoothly, thank goodness, but...after is what I dread. I try to stay as close to Lady Ember, my closest friend here in the high court, keeping myself within arm's reach of her. But I can't escape him.

"Lady Hazelnut."

My stomach twists so tight that I nearly double over with the pain of it. But I've come to learn how to hide my true feelings, unlike other fairies. So I put on an open face and turn to see Prince Cedar, giving me his most charming smile. "Yes, my Prince?"

"I heard that you had a scare from a crow," he says. "You must tell me all about it."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Surely, you would rather hear it from Lady Ember. You know my memory is not the best, and hers is wonderful."

But my breath catches when he shakes his head. "Nonsense. You're the most dramatic storyteller." He offers his arm, and I stare at the limb like it will burn me if I touch it. "Come, my lady. I promise not to keep you long."

A lie. An outright lie. But I can't say "no" to the Prince. It would ruin my relations with the court. So, putting on a strained smile, I place my hand in the crook of his elbow. "If you say so."

My heart feels like a bird in a cage, and I desperately try not to show it as I let Prince Cedar lead me out to a balcony. The crisp, night air makes my head a little clearer. I very much hope that the young Prince has not had much to drink tonight.

"Isn't it lovely tonight? The moonlight shining through the leafless trees," he describes, looking out into the night.

"I can't wait until Spring," I reply.

"Ah, yes, so you can make your famous flower petal ensembles," he chuckles, and the sound sends a shudder through me. "Now, tell me about this crow who came so close to taking away our loveliest seamstress?"

"He must have simply been bored," I say blandly, all of my normal theatrics gone. "He dived at me, managed to snag a few strands of hair, then flew off when I fought back."

The Prince hums. "You're always so different with the others than you are with me. You seem so excited and happy with everyone else. What makes ME any different?"

Oh, you damn well know WHY. "You're the Prince, your highness. I must be respectful towards you."

"Is this why you pull away when I try to touch you?" he asks, reaching his hand out to hold mine, but I pull away. "Why do you do that?" he insists. "You KNOW of my feelings for you, Hazelnut. I have been courting you for ages, yet you deny my every attempt."

I take a step back when he turns to me with anger emanating from his aura. "Your highness, I understand your admiration of me, but I canNOT accept your feelings. I'm sorry."

"But why?" he demands, his voice getting louder. "I can give you everything you've ever desired. I will give you all of my heart. You will want for nothing! Why do you not love me in return?"

My lungs are beginning to hurt, the cold air biting my throat. I glance back and start moving towards the door. If I can just get away from him and back in public, I can escape. "The heart can't be bought, your highness," I tell him. "Your wealth and status don't matter to me. I can't explain why I don't love you. I simply don't. PLEASE accept my true feelings, your highness."

I'm in the hall now, but he comes right after me, his aura becoming even redder. "Any woman would KILL to be in your position! I have NUMEROUS ladies vying for my attention!"

"Then cast your gaze on THEM and give up on me!" I urge, surging off down the hall faster than he can chase me. He knows better than to cause a scene in front of other folk.

I make a hasty excuse to my friends that I am feeling tired after a very long day, and as soon as they bid me "good-night", I leave the court and fly out, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the Prince as possible. So I fly and fly, uncaring about crows or owls or any other birds. Tears blur my vision, and I hastily wipe them away, but more simply take their place. My aura is a dark blue when I look at my hands, and I rub them together to get rid of the feeling of his hand just barely brushing mine. Enough to make me feel dirty.

He's disgusting. Everything I could hate about a man. Arrogant, conceited, aggressive, and uncooperative. I pity his mother and father. I can't help but wonder where they went wrong with him. Why would a prince go after a seamstress?! I'm only considered high-class due to my work being so popular amongst the court. Nothing more! I don't come from wealth or power. The only reason he must see anything in me worthy to dedicate his time to is my beauty. But there are plenty of ladies far more beautiful than I am! And who come from better backgrounds. Ones who could give him the love he desires. Why would he continue to waste his time after nearly a YEAR of me rejecting his affections? Why ME?

I stop when I smell smoke. Where am I? I flew too far. But where is the smoke coming from? A forest fire? Humans?

I follow the smoke and find the house of the sad human from earlier. Now there's a fire in the chimney, the lights on. Are they still awake this late at night? I fly over to a window and look through it, finding the hot stove now lit, the human sitting at their small table and whittling. There's something different about them. They look...focused. Alert. Damn, did I make it hard for them to sleep now? I should have checked how much of my magick I was giving them. I fly around the little house and find one window slightly ajar, squeezing myself into the very warm home. The crackle of the fire in the stove is soothing to my cold wings, and the soft shhh sound of the human whittling is gentle on my ears after the night I just had.

I can't get too close to the stove without burning myself, but I also can't reveal myself to the human, so I quietly fly over to the bed and slip underneath it. Ah, it's warm here. And quiet. The energy in here is much nicer. I'll just...rest here for a short while...where I'm safe...

#writing #fae #storytime #fairy tale #modern fairy tale #i'm so sorry for the prince #i had to have some reason for Hazel to spend so much of her time away from home #besides her new crush

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raeldelacroix · 6 years

Text

My Four Special Boys

Hi FFXIV tumblrites! /wave

My name’s Amy, and I’ve been here a while. In the past I tried to use tumblr for its community aspect, only to find it awkward and difficult to break into, a la Kool Aid man. I’ve never been good in large groups (especially RPers) and usually keep to my comfy corner of the world. Buuuut over the years I’ve realized that’s not always the best way to go. Sure, it can protect against being hurt, but it also limits possible fun friendships and connections too. So, I’m making more of an effort to come out of my shell, as it were!

One thing I’ve noticed about myself is my tendency to downplay my own characters. I’d always be happy to listen to others ramble forever about theirs (which I still am!), but when it came to mine I always kept things purposefully short, as not to annoy the other people around me. WELL, NO MORE. I love my boys. I love them and I want to show the world just how much, darnit.

It’s taken me, like, 5 years to figure out that I just enjoy playing male characters more than female after countless attempts to create women characters that stick, only to fail every. single. time. Point is–I am super stoked to finally have an active, diverse roster I am proud to call my own. And through them I want to meet many more diverse characters! So here they are in their imperfection and glory!

If you’re interested in RPing with me on any of these boys, my Discord handle is Amy#6989 – feel free to add me! I am also on Tansui most of the time while in game. I can RP in FFXIV and on Discord as I am comfortable on both, but we’d probably have more luck in terms of scheduling on Discord. :) I tend to enjoy darker/mature story lines with plenty of drama and conflict, but I am not opposed to romance/sexual stuff so long as it makes sense for the character at the time. I am very easygoing, so just ask! :D

► Tansui Sasanami

Race - Clan: Au Ra - Raen Character Status: Main/Active Age: 24 Element: Water Character Inspirations: Thor (Thor: Ragnarok), Tohru Honda (Fruits Basket) Occupation(s): Innkeeper, Mercenary, Bodyguard, Angler Favoured Weapon(s): Katana, spear/gig Key words and/or phrases: Gentle, cursed, bubble lizard, calm, forgiving, lenient, bleeding heart, kind, romantic, emotional, studious sword nerd, curious, internal darkness, honest, a good boy, high quality murderer (?) RP Hooks: Refugee through Ul’dah, Limsa Lominsa Markets, Fisherman’s Bottom, Mist, trusted Tamamizu resident, basically any fishing location or body of water, House of the Hidden Pearl Inn and Tavern (FC House)

* Side note on Tansui: Yes, I am aware he shares his name with one of the voiced Stormblood NPCs–this was unintentional. :( It was only when I went back and played through the MSQ on another character that I realized I stole the name by accident. But he had already so much RP under his belt at that point that changing the name would be awkward for me. So I am just rolling with it! Besides, it’s a nice name. ;P I don’t fully regret my choice.

► Avery Cross

Race - Clan: Half Seeker of the Sun Miqo’te - Half Midlander Hyur Character Status: Alt/Active Age: 27 Element: Air Character Inspirations: Faramir (LotR), The Operative (Serenity), Colonel Hans Landa (Inglourious Basterds), Ignis (FFXV), Kurama (Yu Yu Hakusho), Zelgadis (The Slayers) Occupation(s): Maelstrom Inspector of Internal Affairs Favoured Weapon(s): Grimoire, star globe Key words and/or phrases: Stern, just, fair, a lonely boy, strict, intelligent, stick-in-the-mud, lies when he must, painfully honest the rest of the time, well-read, sexually repressed, holds on to a lot of fear, unwanted, despised, domestic RP Hooks: Any Maelstrom activity, Ala Mhigan War, Topmast Apartments, Limsa Lominsa, Sharlayan

► R’mhati Tia

Race - Clan: Half Seeker of the Sun Miqo’te - Half Keeper of the Moon Miqo’te Character Status: Alt/Active Age: 21 Element: Earth Character Inspirations: Flynn Rider (Tangled), Loki (Thor), DJ (Star Wars: The Last Jedi), Xellos (The Slayers) Occupation(s): Bard, ??? Favoured Weapons(s): Bow, daggers Key words and/or phrases: Oddball, aloof, quiet schemer, scoundrel, good listener, hears and sees everything, secrets, probably a criminal, try to prove it, a naughty boy, siren voice, melancholy, hopeless, hates mostly everyone for unknown reasons~ RP Hooks: Literally any tavern/bar in the game - just name a place!

► Yvelont Josseloux

Race - Clan: Elezen - Wildwood Nickname: “Joss” Character Status: Alt/Active Age: 19 Element: Fire Character Inspirations: Tasuki (Fushigi Yuugi), Yusuke Urameshi (Yu Yu Hakusho) Occupation(s): Adventurer Favoured Weapons(s): Rapier & focus, staff Key words and/or phrases: Freckles, dirty boy, farm lad on a big adventure, wasted talent, cocky, passionate, clueless, potty-mouth, immature, explosive, good natured, animals love him and he loves them more, punches magicks his way through obstacles, acts before he thinks, a true rowdy boy RP Hooks: Leve counters in the four city-states of Eorzea, cheap taverns/inns, out in the field, formerly a Twin Adder private

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magicianslut · 7 years

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3 and 10??

3. A report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor.

10. A description of your OC by someone who hates them.

Liberties taken with the subjects, of course, but now Kezia makes me laugh.

I used The Smart Witch for the herbs. I don’t know how accurate it is. I tend to use stones myself, but Asra feels like a plant person to me.

Cretan dittany is apparently known to encourage astral projection.

3. An excerpt from a worn journal,wedged between a bookshelf and the wall in Kezia’s shop. It seems to be arecipe for some sort of charm bag. Somewhere in the middle of the page, thecramped recipe dissolves into prose and then morphs back into a list.

Pouch: cotton (NO dye!)

-Acacia blossoms, pressed

-Powdered root of aconite (handle with gloves)

-Fig fruit (dried, if incorporated. Dare I encouragedivination, with the dreams I’ve been having of late?)

-Belladonna leaves (gloves)

The more I prepare, the more I begin to feel this journeywill be a very long one. I am loathe to leave.

-Juniper berries, powdered

Kezia yet has no knowledge of the amount of magick I expendprotecting this place. I can only hope these wards will hold while I am away. Icontinue to dream of him and none so far are enjoyable. I fear for him. Thisraw power he possesses is like a beacon to things of the dark, and he seems tohave no talent for concealing it. To have passed on the streets for this longunmolested…

-Grass (knotted)

I should have taught him to mask his own magick before Iexplained how to detect others’. Were I to leave any additional charms, hewould be sure to find and dispose of them. They would not mesh with the wardsquickly enough to avoid detection. He is so… proud. I have yet to decidewhether that will be a detraction from his progression.

Despite his stubbornness, I believe I shall miss him.

Hm. Perhaps dittany for my supplies, should I need a boostfor morale.

-Jasmine flowers, pressed

-Holly berries, dried

Chargeslowly rather than all at once. Wear on a silver chain.

10. A crumpled poster in a satchel. Thetop is torn away, as though it was yanked from a wall or post where it had beenhung. There is a smudged ink sketch of a young man with a strong jaw, and thenlarge words, written jaggedly and with such force that in some places the inkhas bled through to the other side.

WANTED: PASTRY THIEF

Boy who has been stealing from the display counter all pastweek!

Estimated losses: one lemon cake, two pumpernickel loaves,and SIX raspberry scones!!!

Suspect in full view of bakery at all times and STILL BRAZENLYSTEALING!

If the boy is not apprehended, it could be YOU next!!!

Any information please report to the baker so that wecan catch this thief!!!

(In very different handwriting) Thought you might want this. For both oursakes, I’d like if you would stop taking food. You can afford to buy itnow. Please do.

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phoenix-before-the-flame · 7 years

Text

Embers To Ashes

I said I’d try to get the second chapter up in a week. It’s been two weeks.

Well i’m not perfect! I did say I wouldn’t be able to stick to a proper update schedule!

But here we are, at chapter 2 and I hope it’s to your liking! Please enjoy,leave reviews, send questions if you have them (not about updates though, that’s rude)

chapter 1, chapter 2

Mage- A magician or learned person; a person with magical powers

Lucy’s hair danced lightly in the wind, hanging loose around her shoulders. The day’s bright, she’s out of Era, nowhere near the council and the bag strapped around her, keeping her shirt from flying up as the breeze playfully tugged its hem, is filled to the brim with goodies as she heads home.

Not that crummy, lifeless apartment issued to her so that no matter what, she’d be close at hand for them to call. No, her real home in Fiore, the guild.

Toot! Toot!

A train sounded behind her, shooting a column of dark smoke in the air when she sets foot outside the station. It almost sounded happy. At least to her anyway.

Magnolia hadn’t changed much in the months she’s been away, it was still lively despite the military slowly but surely encroaching on surrounding cities and towns. It’s one of the few free cities left in Fiore for people with magic to live since emancipation around 40 years aback or so. Well free enough, the scorn still lives on in the minor population of those without magic and though not all laws are as enforced like anywhere else, there are still some that get in the way of people trying to live a normal life.

But either way they find a way to make a living. Lucy breezed past familiar market stalls overflowing with colourful fruits and crafts and the equally colourful heads behind them, hollering at passers-by to stop, stay a while and buy their wares. A particularly girthy woman stepped from her stall, her purple hair in tightly braided ropes, whipped around her face as she sang about her goods. How her creams could smooth even the roughest of skins and keep the smoothest ones supple.

Coloured hair, and sometimes eyes, were the sign of a person with magic. It made them stand out whether they wanted to or not, magic leaves its mark on a body. It wasn’t true for all magic users, like herself and Gray but some chose to escape the scorn and ridicule through dyes and contacts.

Lucy politely declined. Most people with magic become higglers, selling from wooden stalls or even going mobile wheeling handcarts through the too small streets. It was a good deal for them, honest work that could get them by with local authorities only ever watching them from a distance.

Though some went other ways like to work in brothels and molly houses. Lucy eyed the notorious Ruthven lane as she went. There were many other lanes like this, squeezed in the cracks of buildings that most would glance over unless, of course, they were looking for it.

Their work stood on the borderline of the law, constantly toeing it. It was illegal yes, but never quite enforced enough to stamp it out. Probably because the majority of its consumers are law enforcement but hey, who’s keeping check?

It was the closest thing Magnolia has to a seedy underbelly but it was nothing compared to the illegal fight rings in Crocus or the human trafficking in the port city of Hargeon. Those weren’t underbellies, more like the blood running through the streets in more ways than one and being their main sources of income, they can’t be so easily stopped.

But there were others who sought to actually to use their magic instead of ignoring that part of themselves. Some dove headfirst into the military despite obstacles and for the rest, well they forged their own paths by aligning themselves with guilds.

Guilds popped up everywhere since emancipation, places where magicked people could use their abilities to do any sort of odd jobs to get by. They ranged from entertaining at children’s birthday parties to acting a disposable security during transports. No matter how big or small or demeaning the job there were always those who were willing to try and get it done for their sake or those who depended on them.

Unlike most other guilds tucked away in corners or quiet and simple in how they appear Fairy Tail was anything but that. It stood proud in Magnolia’s center, rising high above the other buildings as though they were built around it. Only Kardia Cathedral rivalled it in size yet wasn’t nearly as loud.

From the sign with its name carved in pain staking detail held up delicately strong fairies to the orange flag at the very tippy top emblazoned with the guild’s emblem for all the world to see, especially when the sun caught it just right.

To Lucy, it just screamed ‘here I am bitch! What’re you gonna do about it?!’ which in a way, perfectly described the people inside.

She shoved open the door just in time to narrowly dodge a flying table, it cracked down the middle and landed lamely on its side, legs twisted at odd angles. Home sweet home.

There were old faces mixed with a few new ones, getting along over drinks banged on tables, their frothy tops spilling over as rowdy conversations made the air crackle to life. She hadn’t been here in months and quite frankly she missed being around the constant noise and the occasional violence.

She quickly skirted around a skirmish that soon parted when they saw her. Pretty soon she had drawn the attention of most guildmates, receiving hearty claps to the shoulders, loving hair tousles and waves from those not close enough to her. Of course, she returned most of them, which was probably why her wrist hurt so much by the time she pulled up a stool at the bar where the ever-friendly barmaid slid two drinks her way with a twinkle of mischief in her brown eyes.

“Well, well, well, looks like we have a celebrity in our midst.” Cana said, pulling a glass to her lips to take a quick swig of its contents.

“Cana.” Lucy smiled, pushing the second glass towards her friend. “You know I’m not supposed to drink on the job.” “A little midday drink never hurt anyone Lucy. Don’t you remember how much fun we had the last time?”

Of course she remembers last time, well some of it anyways. One drink turned to many, then a drinking contest, then some late-night partying on top of the tables. Then next thing she remembers she’s waking up half naked in Cana’s arms at her friend’s place. Not that Lucy minded but she’d rather not have a repeat of that in the near future.

“Maybe another time then. Anything else I can interest you in, non-alcoholic beverage, a warm meal, nice hot company?” Cana set the empty glass on the counter and reached for the other one, a flirty grin tugging at her lips.

“I might take you up on that last bit. You know if the Master’s in? Got some stuff for him to look over.” She patted the bag in her lap that looked a little too close to bursting for comfort. She might not have finished her main job yet but there were other things at the council worth taking home in the meantime.

“Holed up in his office as usual and working himself to the bone like you. Your eyes are sinking in ya know.” Lucy waved her off, rising to her feet and fixing the bag strap. “Yeah, yeah. We can chat about my deteriorating health later and you can get me caught up on all the stuff I’ve been missing around here.”

“Can’t wait for it.” Cana flashed her another grin, bigger with a flash of teeth before turning to deal with a customer whose arms were laden with empty flagons ready to be refilled. “Just wait until you hear how Nab’s last job went!” She called.

Lucy stuck close to the bar to reach the flight of stairs at its end and began her ascent. Maybe that’s the one thing she didn’t miss about the guild. She dealt with stairs at work, she dealt with stairs to get up to her apartment, stairs at the guild were really pushing it. Especially when Master Makarov liked the view of the city so much that he put his office on the top floor. Her legs might be benefitting and looking great but her lungs were having none of it.

Though, she could slightly understand why his office was up here, peering out a window at the city sprawling out below her. It looked so calm with the light of the sunset running through the streets. Almost like nothing bad ever happens on those twisting lanes. Something caught her eye directly below in the guild’s courtyard.

Huh, looks like the hospital bay expanded when she was gone, and the living quarters too. When Lucy lived there it only about 5 rooms and now it was double, almost triple that in size cutting into the courtyard’s space. The times were different now she supposed.

Lucy rapped her knuckle on the door rather absently, too intrigued by the revelation to notice the hushed conversation inside drawing to a close. “Enter.” The Master’s voice drawled.

She pushed open the door to find the office more cramped than before. Papers about god knows what flowed out of every available crevice and where those couldn’t they were piled high in precarious stacks that constantly wobbled to and fro from the breeze blowing from the little fan, set on its lowest setting to avoid catastrophe.

She could barely see the diminutive man at his desk almost devoured by the papers coming at him from all sides. At least the other man was a bit easier to spot in his chair, his blue hair standing out amidst all the crisp white and aged yellow parchments.

“Lucy.” Jellal greeted, a soft smile creasing the red tattoo on his cheek. “It’s been too long, you’re looking-” He glanced over her features and chuckled. “- very tired.”

“Thanks for that, you can have a chat Cana about it. How’re your brothers doing?”

“Fine, Siegrain is working in Veronica after that last uprising trying to work with authorities to keep dark guilds from moving in. Mystogan, last I heard from him was somewhere over in Stella rescuing magical creatures from whatever inhumane conditions they were living in. He made a great rescue with some exceeds a while back.”

“Sounds like they’re getting stuff done.” Lucy mused. “Yes but it doesn’t quite stop people all over from thinking that I’m somehow in all these countries at the same time.”

“Well maybe you all shouldn’t have gotten the same face tattoo.” “A drunken mistake on our parts I can assure.”

“And how’s your wife?” Lucy teased. “I didn’t see her downstairs.” She definitely didn’t miss the faint dusting of red on his cheeks at the term ‘wife’. They’d been together for years even before they joined the guild but only recently married for about a year or so. It was always cute to see how either of them went from intimidatingly serious to soft, blushy messes when they were around each other.

“Erza’s home resting.” He replied. “She’s been pushing herself to stay on her feet with the activist party and to keep the seat she snatched up in parliament for the magic people. I left her asleep but when I get back she’ll likely be up and about, trying to get back out there.”

“That’s Erza for you, the powerhouse.” Lucy carefully stepped in to avoid slipping on any loose papers when he stood to leave. That’s when the Master finally piped up. “Aren’t you going to tell her the good news as well my boy? You’ve yet to make a proper announcement to everyone but make an exception since she hasn’t been here in a while.”

“What good news?”

It was then the light blush dropped a shade darker and Jellal’s soft smile went a bit goofy around the edges. “Erza’s………pregnant.” Pregnant rested heavy on his tongue as he scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve known for about 2 weeks now.”

Her eyes lit up and she swiftly wrapped her arms around him in a hug more spine crushing than she intended it to be. “Oh Jellal that’s wonderful! Congrats! I know you two’ll be great parents that’s for sure!” Lucy released him with a smile to mirror his. Erza always wanted to be a mother.

“Thank you, Lucy,” He said beaming widely. “I think I should be going now and let you attend to your business with the master. Makarov.” He nodded towards him then retreated out the door. Well, he walked into the doorframe then out the door.

To think that there are actually people out there who are intimidated by him, Lucy thought, sinking into the chair he just left. If only they knew. Maybe it’s the tattoo that gives off that vibe.

Makarov cleared his throat and shifted a stack of papers obstructing his view to the side. A few sheets fluttered free and landed in a growing pile by the foot of his table. He looked haggard, the shock of white hair had thinned considerable in the months she hadn’t seen him. And while the hair on his head was disappearing his usually kempt moustache (which he was very proud of) had evolved into a wild beard that curled around his lips and reached up to tickle his nose. In the words of Jellal, he looked very tired. It was enough to draw her attention from the sunken dark circles and the vein standing up in his forehead.

And that scent. Lucy sniffed, well maybe not.

“Have you been smoking again?” She inhaled again, picking up unmistakable traces of tobacco in the air.

“Um, well my child, that’s the mosquito coil burning. It’s summer and you know how fierce these magnolia mosquitos can be- I can’t afford to catch anything in my old age.”

Lucy cut his ramblings with an incredulous look. After practicing it on Gray for so many years it had been perfected, guaranteed to make most fess up their crimes in an instant.

“It was only one,” he grumbled, “Jellal didn’t seem to mind.” “Jellal doesn’t know that you shouldn’t be smoking. Especially after the last time.”

The one day Porlyusica took some time off to relax he had some sort of attack mid-puff. His throat closed up and had him clawing at it, gasping desperately for breath. The scratch marks are still there. They were lucky Porlyusica lived nearby else he’d be dead, and heaven knows how the guild would function with the loss of their favourite old man.

Since then Erza and Mirajane take turns watching his health, making sure he doesn’t chance anything.

He rubbed his temples, blowing out a weary sigh that seemed to take the last of his energies with it. He aged 10 years right before her very eyes.

“I know my child.” He said guiltily. “But it helps to keep my mind off things, off the stress you children go through because the old fools like me couldn’t finish the fight we started.”

“Master….”

“You all tell me not to worry but it cannot be helped. You’re all out there on the frontlines dealing with whatever’s thrown at you and I’m here, dealing with the paperwork to try and keep you all as safe as possible.”

Makarov swatted the papers on his desk, the crease in his forehead deepening and his eyes darkened. “Empty lawsuits that can still make it to court, scouring the continents for new clients, complaints, the council breathing down my neck to disband but to do that is to ruin lives. Fairy Tail is the prime example of legal guilds, if we disband others will too.” A cough wracked through his body though he waved off her concern, taking deep breaths before continuing.

“And don’t get me started on those radicals. Damned dark guilds giving the council all the more reason to try and shut us all down. Equality can’t be gotten through violence, but do they know that? Jellal and his guild have been hard at work but for every one that goes down at least 2 more pop up in its place.”

Lucy murmured in agreement, eyeing a particular sheet of paper with its title written in elegant cursive. One lawsuit against Reedus for………painting a non-magic model in the park without permission. The court date was next week.

“Well maybe I can bring a spot of good news in all of this.” She tried hopefully, holding up her bag for him to see.

“You don’t have to worry, none of these papers in here are for you. They’re some of the new laws and their requirements regarding magical people and creatures. It’s for Erza to use as evidence in parliament.”

“That looks like a lot. The poor thing’s fit to burst.”

“Well there’s more than that, you should know me better.” Lucy said proudly. “I got another set of runes for Freed to work on.”

Makarov’s eyebrow raised slightly, his lips twisting in a small smile. “So soon my child? You aren’t overworking yourself to try and get this done?”

Lucy giggled. “You shouldn’t be one to say that, but I’m fine. A little bit of extra work isn’t anything I can’t handle. In a few more months I should have the rest for Freed to decode, then we should be in the clear for our next step. Right?”

Lucy set her bag down on the table gently and pushed it closer to Makarov. “Just keep it in there so it doesn’t get mixed up with your things.”

His smile grew a little wider at her quip. “Will do, marvellous work as always. But I can’t help but be a little worried.” “Master you’re always worried.”

“Call it a part of my work. You’ve been hard at work and I couldn’t be any prouder, but are you sure you’re alright?”

Lucy frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well you’re putting yourself at risk. And it’s taking a toll on your health. You’re so close to your goal, maybe you should slow down a bit. Take some rest, things won’t go to hell if you look after yourself.”

She shot him another incredulous look and he cringed slightly. “I can’t ‘slow down’ Master. I’m getting my job done, like you assigned me to do.”

“Yes, I know but that won’t be the case if you’re incapacitated.”

“Which won’t be the case because I’ll be done before that happens.” She said hotly. “I’m an overworked, underpaid council worker, doubling as a secret stealing spy. If I slow down for even a bit I might risk blowing my cover. And that’s something none of us wants.”

Lucy crossed her arms defiantly. “What I’m trying to get is the edge we all need. And I’m going to get that edge in the next few months.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk in frustration. “Why are you so stubborn……. Can you just promise this old man that when you’ve finished your assignment, that you’ll take the break that you need?”

“I promise. But I’ll have you know that I’ve been getting in some Lucy-time recently.”

“‘Lucy-time’ is not the same as getting yourself proper rest.” He tutted. “You should be aware of that.”

Ok, the Master might have a point there, but she’s not telling him that.

Lucy sank into the chair with a heavy pout on her lips, yeah she had a lot of things doing with loads of risks with every action she takes on a daily basis but she can’t take a break now of all times, not when she’s so close!

And even after that, who else is going to go back and forth from the sub-level with the restricted information? No one else knows the place as well as she does so of course she’ll be the one getting that done too. The type of rest Makarov wants her to take isn’t going to come anytime soon. But she’ll break that to him when the time comes.

“So, Cana’s managing the bar now.” She said, shifting the attention from herself. “I thought she only worked the night shift.”

“Covering for Mira,” Makarov replied, “She and her siblings are somewhere in Crocus working with Lamia Scale on a job.”

“Well I hope it’s nothing degrading.” She murmured. Mira and Lisanna were usually contracted as models and Elfman was either hired muscle or entertainment for people to laugh at his beast takeover. They weren’t particularly fond their usual jobs but they got it done.

“On the contrary, they’ve all been hired to shut down a fight ring. A particularly nasty one that popped up recently that’s been kidnapping children right off the streets.”

A shudder passed through her. When she left her father’s estate she’d stayed in Crocus for a few weeks and she lived in fear for all that time, constantly afraid that she might be snatched up to fight for life and limb for someone’s amusement. To think that not even children are safe from its dark underside now.

“It’s going to take a while so you won’t see them back at the guild anytime soon. In fact most of your guildmates won’t be around soon, big jobs like that are being taken up by them constantly.” He steepled his fingers. “They’re tired of the mediocre jobs and want to prove themselves as more than what they’re usually used as.”

“That doesn’t sound too good.” Makarov shrugged. “It’s getting them some attention and the other guilds are picking it up as well. It’s an odd sort of resistance I’ll admit, but it is working for them.”

“Well they better be careful out there, there’ve been more reports of the council cracking down on people even when they haven’t been doing anything.” It happens but it’s been worse in the past couple of weeks from the reports she copied.

“Bah! The council,” he grumbled. “They love magic and what it can do for them but not the people who have it running in their veins.”

“I know.” Lucy sighed, taking a stand. “It’s disappointing that that’s how things are, for now at least.”

I’m heading back downstairs for some flirtatious conversations and gossip, and possibly food. Maybe I can get a head start on that break you’ve been telling me about.”

“I’m sure it’ll be more of an extended Lucy-time more than anything else.”

She held back a snort. “Maybe so. You should join me, we can make it a ‘Makarov and Lucy time’ because something tells me that you haven’t left up here in a while. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Well if one of my children is paying for my dinner how can I say no?” He huffed out a laugh, slipping out of his seat. Only a tuft of his white hair was visible over his table. “Now let me just find my cigars……”

“Master.” Lucy warned.

“It was a joke! Just a joke; I’m coming.”

#natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #Nalu #fairy tail #eta!au #What a Phoenix can do #on the day of fairy tail's last chapter i update #what irony #god i'm gonna be a wreck since fairy tail's over

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