trying on a metaphor
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Origami Around
Three Goblin Art
will byers stan first human second
One Nice Bug Per Day
Xuebing Du
Andulka
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Show & Tell
art blog(derogatory)
NASA
shark vs the universe
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cosimo Galluzzi
★
Claire Keane
Peter Solarz
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@feuerfliegen
... private, selective & low activity multi muse featuring various affiliated OCs. Written by Lilah (32, GMT+1, she/her). Usual RP etiquette applies, hate will not be tolerated. sideblog / must be mutuals with @sturmvcgel for interactions but feel free to hmu. (this blog uses the new beta editor and xkit rewritten)
(muses under the cut // to be updated!!)
Hiatus Notice! Given my non-existent activity I am sure this comes as a surprise to no one. I have recently felt my motivation to be here dwindle, not because I do not enjoy being here and writing my characters, but because other creative projects are simply taking more of my energy and my focus. And since these projects are quite important to me I have decided to leave Indie-Rp for the time being (if you still wish to write with me you can do so through a group, just hmu on discord or IM) and put my energy where it serves me best, focusing on my current book project. I am sorry if this is an inconvenience to my writing partners, I loved writing and plotting with all of you wonderful people and I wish you nothing but the best.
Celeste d'Corbin - The Raven
perpetual darkness and the sweet smell of rotting roses… Darling, dearest, you should have known, I will not stay buried for long.
If you ask her Celeste will claim that she does not know where and when she was born, has no recollection of her life before she was turned. She will tell you that she does not know where her name comes from or who gave it to her. Her mother? Her maker? She picked the other one for herself, the raven. For that is what she is. A raven eating corpses left behind by wolves, holding grudges for generations - too much intelligence sparkling in dark eyes.
She flutters from one place to the next, never standing still for long.
The last time she stood still she lost her heart and ended up in a coffin made out of glass. Her own personal prison.
If you ask her how long she stayed in that coffin, displayed for the hold world to see - a dead angel fallen from heaven - she will tell you. For that she knows, that she remembers, that she will never forget. A hundred years.
And for just as long will she hunt down Pierre's bloodline, destroy them just as they destroyed her. So that the lock around her heart may finally be lifted.
Celeste was cursed by her former lover Pierre and spend a century locked in a coffin made out of glass and silver, dragged around by a traveling circus. Her ghostly form haunted dozens of small villages and cities until she was saved by a young woman, a few years after the Great War.
She spend the roaring twenties first in London and then in Paris before she had her eyes on America. The second world war made her stay in Europe longer as she joined the Resistance and found many a battlefield as the perfect feeding ground.
That makes sense. Khione nods as Nella explains the rules. She's glad for it. Then she watches as Nella unwraps the bandages, carefully, ever so carefully, nodding as the words of warning are received, reaches for her ointment and puts it onto the bandage.
You also owe it to the people you love to stay alive, Nella says, and Khione nods again. There is no sense in running into danger headfirst, with or without the light of day; your loved ones will not thank you for it, once you join them in the afterlife.
"They'd probably find a way to sneak in and get me out of there. There's plenty of stories about that." Plenty, Khione says. She only knows two. "But yes, I hear you."
And she also hears what Nella doesn't say. Khione knows how to read between the lines. The last question may have remained unanswered but even a non-answer is an answer if one knows where to poke and prod.
For now, though, poking and prodding doesn't help.
Especially if the person that's being poked and prodded is the one with the healing salves and the knowledge of this strange world she's landed herself in.
So she leaves it be.
"Will you be the one showing me around after this or should I find someone else to do that?"
There. A question that is a little safer. Khione hopes so, at least.
Nella's eyes are still focused on the work at hand but she does raise an eyebrow at the other's words. "Sneak into the afterlife and get you out of there? Those are not things you should joke about. Death is a heavy burden and no one leaves it behind unmarked. The price they will pay to find you will be high. Do you truly wish that upon them?"
It is something she has considered many a time, the former princess admits that only to herself. To search for the door to the Underworld, to go look for her father there if she cannot find him in this world. But as all the other realms it seems the world of the Dead is lost to them, too. And Nella does not wish to know what that means for Death itself.
Her gaze darts to Khione's once more as she considers that answer. She is not supposed to talk to strangers. Lancelot will not like it. But this girl does not seem like the kind that stays put for long, peacefully waiting for someone to save her. So will it not be better if Nella is the one to show her around? To keep an eye on this stranger that fell into their world? Into their little piece of safety?
"If you feel up to walking I can show you around, yes.", she offers another small smile, "But do not get your hopes up. There is not much here that can be discovered. We try to survive. And that is all there is to see."
HAILEE STEINFELD in SINNERS (2025) dir. Ryan Coogler
"You keep dancing with the devil, one day she’s going to follow you home.”
"---thea? i'll have to call you back. please let me know if blaise circles back around. if not, i'll have wade run a search on our end of things." no sooner did she hang up the phone or one of her own appeared, out of thin air, as if summoned.
"hi," floribeth said, voice soft and demeanor softer. "this, um, this is the salvatore school for the young and the gifted." a beat and then: "i didn't pick the name, i promise." a nod of the head followed suit: "and this quaint little town is mystic falls. home to, well, a great many people. including a very sucky football team, and i say that as someone who doesn't know anything about sports."
that's all jed's thing.
god, she misses him.
(and she misses her best friends, loren and mia, too.)
"my name is floribeth, but most people call me flori. what's your name?"
she bit her lip as her brows were raised in confusion. a strange answer for a strange place, she should not have expected anything in else. in the years after the war Celeste had seen many places, met many people, most of them peculiar. but not as peculiar as this.
or maybe that was just the hunger speaking.
"the shool for the young and the gifted?", her tone was almost mocking, "but if you have eternity at your fingertips, you do not need school to learn. there is a grander world out there."
she turned her head slowly, watching the others around them. most of them were young people, and so many had beating hearts. the sound urged her forward and Celeste let out a low growl. "well, someone's after all of you. town stinks of vervain, football players or not, and I am damn hungry now."
@floripire gets the vampire girlie
she had followed the scent out of town and towards what seemed to be... a school? hunger made her stomach turn, already threatening to eat itself, and her thoughts were dancing to the same tune. she had looked around town but every mortal she met smelled the same. Vervain. and here they were, her kin. walking side by side with witches?
"excuse me", Celeste stepped towards a girl, a vampire. her own fangs were showing as she fought for control inside, "where am I here?"
Wilhelm couldn't care less about another monastery burning and its treasures falling into the hands of those who fought for their freedom. But in spite of personal feelings, he had to keep up appearances and so he gestured for his companions to stay behind. Better to handle the matter on his own, without the others overhearing.
While dismounting Cajetan, Wilhelm's eyes examined the scene more closely, discerning the features of the lone figure standing in the smoke. It was a boy, by his estimation barely older than Jonas. The thought immediately softened his heart even further.
"What are you doing here, boy? You and the others should better hurry, before more troops arrive."
"I do not care for the others", his words were a blatant lie but he had gotten used to that already. Riley had left all truth behind. Here in this foreign country, in these foreign battles, all he could wear was a mask. And the sins that would have haunted his past self were now a mere aftertaste of his actions. "And I am not afraid of death in battle. Not if I am fighting for the right thing."
Fear. It lay buried beneath truth, in that graveyard back home.
"I do not like being called a boy", what he carried with him still was the anger, the rage his mother had planted in his heart all these years ago, "So I shall not answer your question, it seems quite obvious", the mage motioned towards ashes and smoke, "But instead I ask: Why are you here? You are too late to stop us and if you wish to kill me, you should have stayed on that horse of yours."
@lenzimanot for the g.o.a.t.
the smoke that still lingered in the air had brought tears to his eyes. but if there was one thing the young soldier was used to by now, it was the sting of fire. it rose into the air behind him, that smoke, mixing with the grey clouds above the monastery's remnants. he could still hear shouting and the sounds of battle, but none of his comrades were in sight.
so it fell upon the young mage to greet the approaching knights, he who did not care about these religions and these battles, he who was only here because he followed a trail, because he searched for someone.
they were too many, high up on their horses, while he stood here in the dirt - one hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword. he had more than steel to greet them though. "If you come to aid this place you are too late, good sirs. I suggest you turn around and return to your emperor and his troops. God is with us today."
"Just be careful," Kie says, "don't touch my skin directly; I don't want to---" She clears her throat. "---I take people's body heat when skin to skin contact occurs; it hurts them more often than not. Please, be careful."
Nella. A nod of the head follows. "Nella," she repeats, "that's a pretty name."
I am not sure if you will manage to find your way back, whatever was once beyond those borders is now gone.
"If that---if what you say is true, well, I owe it to the people I love to at least try." And speaking of which: "Have you? Ever been beyond those borders? Just to see what it all looks like?"
Call her curious and curiouser but she's got the feeling there's more out there, beyond the borders of this place.
"Are you certain? That I can stay? Perhaps it'd be better if I stay the night and carry on in the morning. Things always seem so bleary in the dark. Perhaps I just need a little bit more light."
A small smile creeps over Nella's lips as she finds herself nodding along. "Yes, I am certain. Most certain. We are a place of refuge and we will not turn away someone in need. You are not free to go about the camp unaccompanied - simple measures of safety these days, for spies can wear any mask - but you are more than welcome to stay and rest up."
Carefully Nella unwraps the others bandages and then, as a simple nod to the warning given, reaches for her ointment and puts it onto the bandage, so not to touch the other's skin. A part of her likes this even, the healing, the taking care of. Maybe it is the faint memory of her mother that all these herbs and oils conjure up. Maybe it is the heaviness that has settled into her bones from all the fighting.
"You also owe it to the people you love to stay alive." It is a simple sentence, one that has kept her awake and alive more than once. "There is no sense in running into danger headfirst, with or without the light of day. Your loved ones will not thank you for it, once you join them in the afterlife."
And that last question, that is one she leaves unanswered. The border is a dangerous place and Nella will not admit that she has seen it with her own eyes, more than once.
"So I've been told."
His handshake is careful, but firm. And then he laughs, and she knows exactly what type of person she's dealing with. One of those with an abundance of power and the (not so quiet) confidence to match.
Hard-won, perhaps. Or perhaps not.
"I don't know," Kie says in response, "I don't make it a habit of getting into cloaking spells with strange boys."
"My dad is Dutch," she tells him, watching as he pushes the now empty milkshake glass to the side. It's only fair. A morsel of information for a morsel of information.
"Considering I'm not a magic user, no. You strike me as the type of person to run from one. A free spirit and all that jazz." And speaking of which: "You're not gonna let the superhero thing go, are you?"
He cannot help but chuckle at that. "You should, from time to time. It gives life a bit more edge." If there is one thing Riley Ashford has had an abundance of, it is edge. Danger. Bad decisions. One could say the last three years were nothing if not a bad decision.
He has come to embrace it though, the secrecy, the being different. The thirst for power. "Makes me feel alive, to mess with those things. And cloaking spells are quite easy. I can teach you a good one."
Riley nods at her explanation. He knows of magic in the Netherlands, but they are too close to Hanse territory for him to consider. Messing with the big boys would be a terrible mistake now.
"I am never running from things", he leans back, his ego almost vibrating off of him. "It's things and people that run from me." Again he laughs, clearly joking. Or is he? "And I am far from free. I had a coven once, you know. But these things aren't as easy in Britain as they used to be, say a hundred years ago. They're drawing battle lines everywhere now." His eyes darken at the mention of his former coven, at the memory of what he has lost.
Then Riley shakes his head, both in response to her and to chase away those memories. "Nah, it's too good to let go. I mean, do you have comics of yourself and stuff? The whole secret identity and costume thing?"
She's going to sue Regina Mills when she gets back. She doesn't know how, yet, but she will. However, thoughts of suing and potential revenge need to be put on the backburner. After all, it is much more important for Kie to get home first.
"I like tea, thank you."
Vaguely, she's reminded of Layla, who insists anytime anyone has anything that they ought to drink tea.
"As much as I would want to, and believe me, I do want to, I... I must find a way back home. As you can probably tell I---I am not from around here."
At least, not anymore.
For a moment, she's quiet, slowly draining the tea in her cup. "My name is Khione," she says, then. "Khione Goossens. May I know the name of the person who is currently, and kindly, patching me up?"
Her gaze is a watchful one, brows slightly furrowed as she listens to the other girl and slowly - gently - lifts the bandages to examine those bruises. "May I?"
Nella may not be convinced of her own skills but if there is one thing she has learned from the story of her parents it is that doing something is always better than doing nothing.
"My name's Nella", she introduces herself with a nod. No reason to throw around her real name or her royal title. No one on the island knows of either and she intends to keep it that way. "No one is from around here", her voice is still gentle, "We all found this island after the ogres attacked. After the curse took most of our lands. I am not sure if you will manage to find your way back, whatever was once beyond those borders is now gone."
And sadness creeps into her eyes. For she, too, is longing for home. Back when she had left Corona she had not imagined that such a moment would ever come. That she would be willing to sacrifice every adventure just for a chance to get back to her parents.
"You can stay here if you want. But if you truly need to carry on, we'd be happy to help."
"Khione Goossens," she says coolly, "and you're lucky I'm wearing my gloves today." She's always wearing her gloves, but he doesn't strike her as the type of person to be in the know about all of her Kie-isms.
Nor does she want him to. It's kind of refreshing, actually, to run into someone who (probably) hasn't seen everything there is to see about her online.
So she shakes his hand.
He speaks of gifts - which is all well and good - and then shows his and Khione can't help the way the cold seeps into her bones almost immediately. The words 'are you deranged?!' die a slow death inside of her mouth. Instead, brown doe eyes widen. "Stop it!" she hisses. "I don't know where you're from, Milkshake Boy, but here we don't show what we can do with civilians in the room."
A pointed look, as well as a nod to some of the people sitting in other booths.
Gods, he's so lucky that Warren Peace isn't working a shift today. Or her friend, Nancy Lu.
"Where are you from, anyway? Europe? My dad's from Europe, too."
"That's a beautiful name", he shakes her hand carefully but firmly. Riley wouldn't call himself lucky when it came to those damn gloves, they make it harder for him to feel her in that moment - to feel her emotions. There had been a time when touching other people was too overwhelming for him, but now that he had learned to use these powers for good - or for bad, like Kuragin - they were quite helpful in finding out things.
And that is what he came here for, is it not?
Riley cannot help but laugh as she scolds him though. "For someone who apparently spends a lot of her time on ice you seem to have not enough chill. You'd feel better if I threw a cloaking spell around us? No one saw." And even if they did saw, he knew ways to deal with that, too. Better not tell her something so dark and ominous in the first conversation though.
Europe's not a country, he wants to reply but bites his lips instead, pushing the now empty milkshake to the side.
If he truly wants her to answer him, maybe he should stop antagonizing her so much. So the smile on his lips remains as he finds himself nodding. "I was born in England, yes. But I am looking for more than the covens there can give me. That is why I am here now." A beat and then he adds: "You're not in a coven, are you? Superhero that you are?"
@lenzimanot Kriemhild meets the she-bear
"Our people are dying out there, your highness, and the king is nowhere to be found?", she should lower her voice, Yrsa knows as much. But the men in this throne room do not scare her - after all, they hide behind their walls while the rest of Burgundy is run over by the huns. There is nothing they can do to her that would still hurt. "We will need reinforcements or we can no longer hold them off. So what do you intend to do? They say the king has abandoned us to chase some female spirit of the old world. Surely he has left you soldiers?"
@lenzimanot Nella Ryder for Christian von Herbenstein
he has found her. She knew this moment would come - had he not once promised to always protect her? To always find her? But so many days have passed, so many things have changed since Petrosinella last stepped foot on her mother's soil, since she last felt the eyes of her father upon her.
she was no longer his little girl.
"You should not have come here", finally she raised her own gaze. It traveled over the soldiers at his side only to finally rest on her father's features. He seemed older now, lines drawn where once there was only laughter. Had worry been the cause or the simple passing of time? She might never know.
"This place is dangerous." I am dangerous. "And there is nothing for you here. Your kingdom is to the south, father. Not here."
@freezegirl gets Nella Ryder in her ONCE era
it had been months since the ogres returned, and on their little sanctuary on the island - well protected by Lancelot and his knights - she could almost pretend she was back in Corona, with her mother and father. If only there wasn't that little voice in her head, telling her that she could do more.
that she should do more.
"I am not as well versed with these herbs than other healers", she turned to the girl in front of her, one of these strangers travelers that had been caught outside their makeshift walls. Petrosinella was no healer at all, but she was all they got. So she had to be enough.
"But this tea will help you with the pain. And the bruising. Fighting off an ogre is no easy feat, you need to rest."
