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[Mokonae]

[Mokonae]

pup720
September 12, 2015

"character speak"
"other speak"

• 
  It was to be an evening full of sparkling bellies and clouds of laughter, for celebrating the starlights always inevitably brought an insurmountable joy that words could not express. Though the Feast of Starlights happened only once every few centuries on the night of a blue moon, no matter how somber a mood or dim the sky, the feast growthed an illumination of hope for all of elvenkind. Perhaps the satisfaction of the feast was due to the fact that it enabled a day dedicated solely to the cherishment of the underappreciated light of the stars, which were the brightest in the universe; or, perhaps it was just simply the idea of gathering with kin and being able to toss away all pains and sorrows for an evening. Nevertheless, whatever the cause, the feast was magical in a non-magic involved way.
  
  A half-hour prior to the beginning of the feast, a graceful figure stood at the edge of the elven castle's round pavilion, which situated the highest floor of the castle and overlooked the vastness of forest leaves and the tips of Troven Realm far into the horizon. Celairiel Valeth. Albeit orphaned now, she was the sole daughter of Ardugas Valthon and Celedra Wyeth. Her mother had died in child labor, and her father had fallen during Battle of Three Kings not soon after. As a result, the King of Idran, Theryos Valthon, husband of Melethiel Valthon, father of Erynon Valthon, and best friend of Ardugas Valthon, had vowed to take her under his wing and raise her as his own. Therefore, since childhood, she was raised as a princess despite not possessing any royal blood. Adding onto her already unfortunate history, unbeknownst to her, Celairiel also possessed the powers of a Seeress: the ability to foresee the future. Fragile, weak, and faced with a sad fate—at least that's what most thought of when they heard of that term, Seeress. But that did not define Celairiel. She was a warrior, strong and determined, coming up to par with the skills of the Crown Prince, Erynon Valthon. In fact, with her hardy attitude, it was difficult to fathom her undesirable fate. But death it was: inevitable and to-be-premature.
  
  On this particular evening, Celairiel was draped in an elegant silk gown. It was one that she had spent nearly a year to produce, although that seemed at all no time to her. Since many decades ago, Celairiel had developed a love for constructing her own garments; she had created all of the attire in her wardrobe. She had even made a few outfits for the Prince, Erynon. Creating things for herself brought her delight. Doing it for others brought her ecstasy.
  
  In truth, the factor that lead her to develop her hobby was the King's strict enforcement of her activities; when she made articles of clothing, she could exert control, which was the one thing she wanted most in her life. Control. Yes, she desired it, yearned for it. However, she didn't want authority over the Kingdom of Idran, or even the lives of others—no, it was simpler than that. She merely wanted to be able to govern over her own life, over her own actions.
  

[Mokonae]

4nier
September 29, 2015

alternate sidebar.

"self speak"
"other speak"

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vivamus cursus, eros nec semper commodo, purus ante porta magna, et tristique dui nibh quis neque. Vestibulum accumsan, nisi sit amet ullamcorper pulvinar, lectus elit venenatis massa, at ultrices mauris metus vitae dui. "Sed cursus, neque sit amet malesuada auctor." Erat leo varius est, in interdum est quam nec urna. Integer sit amet faucibus lectus. Quisque elementum, sapien a aliquam maximus, ex nibh sodales odio, quis ultricies erat odio sit amet eros. Duis faucibus, eros eu molestie bibendum, arcu sapien dictum neque, gravida egestas ipsum mauris at justo. Duis ullamcorper accumsan ipsum in eleifend. Aliquam feugiat sapien at lectus eleifend posuere. Nunc fringilla massa et nulla hendrerit, volutpat rutrum mauris pharetra. Praesent leo sapien, congue ut risus vel, tempor finibus sapien. Ut porttitor sapien nec tellus consectetur, sed ullamcorper ex bibendum. Ut elementum vulputate metus, quis maximus turpis condimentum vitae. Quisque eget elit suscipit, maximus nulla id, pulvinar tellus.

Praesent in tortor in urna interdum auctor. "Phasellus eget quam orci."

Curabitur quis lobortis quam. Etiam nec urna iaculis, auctor justo sed, cursus leo. Curabitur vel nisl eu tortor efficitur faucibus. Nullam malesuada eleifend quam et accumsan. Phasellus placerat lorem non ipsum auctor aliquet. Suspendisse venenatis nunc at risus viverra, eu rutrum sapien pellentesque. Maecenas volutpat lobortis massa vel bibendum. Suspendisse risus risus, imperdiet non lectus viverra, scelerisque suscipit lorem. Integer dapibus pulvinar odio eget volutpat. Nam efficitur nibh at lorem fringilla pretium. Ut euismod sed erat at consectetur. Nulla sollicitudin ex nec purus tincidunt, ut sollicitudin tellus sagittis.

Nam faucibus, urna nec luctus molestie, nulla mi ultrices tellus, dignissim porta ipsum sem ut orci. Sed laoreet, urna non auctor tempor, augue sapien dignissim massa, non luctus nibh nunc ac metus. Sed non ex ultricies, commodo felis et, vehicula ex. "Donec ullamcorper, magna a scelerisque ultrices." Ex suscipit nunc, a semper lectus diam vitae mauris. Aliquam et euismod tellus, eget vestibulum risus. In ornare, est vel condimentum venenatis, massa justo bibendum massa, in auctor odio ex sed lorem. Duis quis lectus blandit, laoreet lorem nec, auctor dui. Praesent eget erat a est sagittis rutrum. Sed a nisl vitae nibh dignissim efficitur. Donec commodo ipsum in blandit facilisis. Curabitur lobortis pharetra purus nec scelerisque.

[Mokonae]

Kagurome
September 4, 2015

self speak / self speak
others speak / others speak
alternate / alternate

• 
  No words could describe how relieved Lyons felt once they had finally left Arvlyn's presence. It was as though a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders as the large, colorful and decorated doors to her office closed behind them. It had been his second time meeting her face to face like that, though at least this time he didn't have to talk to her... much. He and Ardea made their way back down to the boiler room; the rain had stopped but the ground was still extremely wet. Luckily they were able to walk on a stone and paved path rather than just solid dirt. They walked in silence as they made their descent down the wooden staircase that slid down the side of the building. Lyons wondered what was running through the girl's mind. Was she scared? Did she regret coming to the spirit world in the first place? Lyons tried not to think about it, doing his best to clear away his thoughts as they approached the olive-colored door of the boiler room.
  
  They were greeted by Shen who was covered in dark soot patches. Usually he was much cleaner than this, which meant Malz probably had him clean the incinerator or the soot holes. Lyons would have made a teasing remark had it not been for the situation they had just come from. After a briefing of what happened, Lyons hinted for Shen to offer Ardea a place to sleep. With that established, the human girl began to speak after the passing of a few split seconds. She sounded tired and confused to Lyons' ears, which only made him question more what she had gotten herself into. Striking a deal like that with Arvlyn—that sure as hell wasn't something to see everyday. "Well," Lyons began, his voice a bit gravelly. "I believe you've just made a deal with the devil." Lyons almost regret saying the last part, but it was true: just about everyone thought Arvlyn was like the devil himself; she was terrifying and manipulated people to her will... with words. Her eyes were menacing and her voice was sly. What else was she if not a metempsychosis, a transmigration—a reincarnation of the devil?
  
  The night sky had darkened and the stars had awaken to glitter in the drab sky. They were so dim however, that they seemed to almost not be there at all. It had been such a while since Lyons had been able to be outside when the sky was as pitch black as it was now, and when he finally had the chance, the only downfall was that the stars refused to shine. Dragging his cold hand through his ink-colored hair, he spoke with a half drained voice. "Ardea, you should go rest up. You've been through a lot and you'll need all of the energy you can get for tomorrow." Lyons paused, trying to suppress a yawn. "I'll come in the morning and we'll start with your tour and training then." He glanced to her, trying for a small smile of some sort. Not caring whether or not she saw, he gave his attention to Shen who seemed to be freezing in his work uniform. "Shen, I trust you'll relay what happened in Arvlyn's office to Malz."
  
  Shen nodded. "Yeah. I'll let you know what he has to say."
  
  Lyons slightly nodded, exerting a weak thanks before turning to leave. Before he did however, he stopped at Ardea's side. He couldn't tell whether she was tired or not; he couldn't tell if she was still thinking about the deal or if she just wanted to be away from everything here. Maybe he couldn't tell because he himself didn't know how he felt about it all. He was honestly just glad he wasn't in her shoes, for who knows if he would have had the strength to do what she did. Raising his hand, though hesitantly, he rested it on her shoulder. His palm gently cupped it, her warmth sending an almost shiver through him. He wanted to give her words of wisdom and hope, but nothing came to him, so instead he just turned his head ever so slightly, looking at her with his weary cerulean eyes and hoping to be able to convey his empathy. With a silent puff of air, he let go and made his way back inside the inn. It was nighttime, and there was only one thing he wanted to think about: sleep.
  

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ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ ❙❚⋮ text

[Mokonae]

iajato
December 11, 2015

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