Man of Many Jobs

[Read my about before interacting] Located on WrA || Void Elf || Possible NSFW || IC blog

[riizev2]

End Sequence III: Apotheosis

100 years to the day after the Burning of Darnassus - Lor’danel, Darkshore

A congregation of kaldorei stand in silent memorial. Before them rests a brilliant stained glass lantern depicting a homeland lost to time. A procession of priestesses in training carry with them an ornate torch, approaching the lantern. In a flash, the forest is illuminated in a collage of green hues as light streams through the glass. The wisps of the forest form a ring around the congregation, settling in the air as a Priestess of Elune approaches the forefront of the crowd. Her purple hair pools almost to her ankles, flowing in tandem her white moonsilk robe. Her eyes beam with pride as she looks over those in attendance before clearing her throat. As she speaks, magical amplifiers filter her voice through the air so that all in attendance can hear.

Priestess: Ishnu-alah, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, and those who lie betwixt. I am honored to speak before you on this most important hallowed of vigils. The Goddess honors me with this opportunity…

Priestess: Today we join with our families across Azeroth to commemorate a tragedy. One that has left a lasting scar on our people and the face of our world itself. On this day we remember those that we lost in the Burning, as well as those who died fighting to restore peace in the conflict that followed.

The procession emerges once more, carrying with them a round bowl of shimmering glass. The bowl is brought between each member of the congregation who each deposit their own offerings. Coins, flowers, toys, trinkets; even something so simple as an offering of a kind word to ease the pain of loss. As the bowl reaches the front, the Priestess collects the container before bringing it to the moonwell. Setting it against the water, those in attendance watch as moonlight reflects against the water as the offerings begin to glow. In a pulse of light, they disappear into a pillar of luminous energy. In the distance, other pillars are seen as smaller congregations across the countryside release their own offerings.

Priestess: With this, we offer our condolences and compassion to those who still suffer from the pain of loss. We stand together as children of Elune to comfort our kin and our allies…

Her voice trails off for a moment, eyes drifting towards the night sky. Some follow her gaze curiously, looking to find the cause of her pause only to come up empty handed. After a few seconds, she speaks again.

Priestess: It is our blessing and our curse to outlive many of the conflicts that have permanently changed the face of Azeroth. There are few among our allies in the Eastern Kingdoms who still remember the conflict we faced with the Horde a century ago. There are children born two generations out from an event that still burns so brightly in the memories of our people.

Priestess: And yet, is this not a good thing? To live in a time of prolonged peace? We may have faced the hardships of war, but should we not fight tooth and nail to make sure the next generation does not have to? We remain vigilant for the next threat that comes, yet pray it never comes.

A kind smile reaches across her face as the priestesses collect the glass bowl from moonwell. Retrieving an ornate leather satchel, the speaker opens the silver latch to reveal a ceremonial tattoo kit. Turning towards one of the priestesses in training, the Priestess watches as a line of five young kaldorei form before her. Each wears a ceremonial robe denoting their chosen path.

Priestess: Even on a day carrying so much weight, we must not forget our duties. There are those among our community who have earned their place among us and they must be recognized. Each bring with them their own strengths, may they be in knowledge, compassion, devotion, or something uniquely there’s.

Descending into the waist-deep water of the moonwell, the Priestess beckons the young kaldorei to follow her in one at a time.

Priestess: Elune-adore, my child. For your work in healing and caring for the sick and needy, it is my honor to bestow upon you the Mark of the Leaf. May your boundless compassion bring peace to those in need within and beyond our community

Druid of Balance: Thank you, Sister.

Priestess: Elune-adore, my child. For your tireless dedication to protecting our community as a member of the city watch and for aiding our neighbors in their time of need, it is my honor to bestow upon you the Mark of the Bear. May you always find strength when you need it and insight to wield it.

Guardsman: Thank you, Sister.

Priestess: Elune-adore, my child. With the completion of your training within the ranks of the Sentinels, it is my honor to bestow upon you the Mark of Claws. May you always know comradery in your countryman and trust in your allies.

Sentinel: Thank you, Sister.

Priestess: Elune-adore, my child. For your duty as a trainee and service as a Warden, it is my honor to bestow upon you the Mark of Shadows. May the shadows keep you and the moon illuminate your foes.

Warden: Thank you, Sister.

Priestess: Elune-adore, my child. For your service and sacrifice during the Legion’s Third Invasion of Azeroth, it is my honor to bestow upon you the Mark of the Owl. May you always know the love and gratitude of your people for acting above and beyond the call of duty.

Illidari: Thank you, Sister.

After each kaldorei ascendant emerges from the pool freshly marked, the Priestess herself raises her hands in prayer. The congregation follows suit as the landscape is overtaken in the brilliant light of the full moon.  For a whole minute there is naught but silent prayer as the wisps ascend into the treeline and out of sight. When the moment passes, the speaker emerges from the moonwell to address the audience one final time.

Priestess: I thank you for joining me tonight as we pay our respects and bear witness to the rise of five outstanding individuals in our community. May good fortune find its way into each of your lives as we look to the coming days.

Priestess: Goddess watch over you

Congregation: And you as well

This is not the end

[riizev2]

End Sequence II - Generations

Ten years after End Sequence I - Interior Parlor, Voidsong Manor

A priestess of Elune relaxes against a chaise lounge, white silk gown fanned around her. Dark purple hair pools around the middle of her back as the red markings etched against her face reflect the dim candlelight. The silence is broken by the patter of feet and the emergence of a young Void Elf girl. She is merely a child, not even a decade old. In her hands rest a pair of dulled rapiers.

Fledgling: Min’da?

Phoenix: Yes, little one?

Fledgling: Will you teach me how to fight?

Phoenix: How to fight? Has your brother been bullying you?

Fledgling: No ma’am. You and papa were both fighters, and I want to be like you two too!

Phoenix: Your mama would tan both of our hides if she caught us practicing with swords in the house… so let’s head onto the back porch.

Fledgling: Yay!

Phoenix: Good, now then… wielding a sword and fighting with one can be two very different things. One is technique, the other is purpose. We will begin with your technique.

Fledgling: Okay!

Phoenix: Do you know how our home was built, little one?

Fledgling: Our home? Umm… by builders

Phoenix: Haha, true. Still, I mean the steps. When building a house, do you know what the first step is?

Fledgling: Putting up walls?

Phoenix: Not quite. We start with the foundation. If you build your home on the dirt, it will sink over time. One must lay foundation before building.

Fledgling: What does this have to do with fighting?

Phoenix: Patience, darling. A proper stance is much like building a house. You must start with your foundation: your legs. Don’t stand with your feet side by side like that. Put one foot in front of the other… lead with your right foot. There we are. You’ll have much more freedom of movement this way, and you’ll be much harder to push over. Now, after your foundation is laid, what comes next?

Fledgling: The floor?

Phoenix: That’s right. Your floor is your hips. You want to keep yourself level, with your legs supporting yourself for quick movement on your feet.

Fledgling: Like this?

Phoenix: A little less bouncy, but yes, like that. Next are your walls; in this case, your arms and chest. Lead with your sword, keeping your hands low. Bend your left arm, resting your hand against your hip. This will support your weight when you lunge or stab.

Fledgling: Okay! So then there’s the roof?

Phoenix: And that’s your head. You want to always keep your head on a swivel. You must be aware of your opponent’s movements. Read their eyes to see where they plan to strike. Watch the tension in their muscles before a swing. You can learn a lot by watching your opponent.

Fledgling: Uh huh!

Phoenix: Good. Now that your stance is set, you can begin work on your strokes and lunges. Take a few practice strikes against the air here… Good, good. I see promise. A little less raw power, and a little more finesse. You are wielding a precision tool, not a blunt object. Guide your motions with your wrist, and don’t be afraid to move your body.

Fledgling: Like this?

Phoenix: Yes, much better! Oh, you are doing quite well.

Fledgling: Thank you, min’da. One day I’ll be as strong as you and papa!

Phoenix: My dear, you will be stronger than both of us. All of this technique, however, is the easy part. The hard part isn’t how you fight, but why.

Fledgling: Why I fight? What do you mean?

Phoenix: Well, why did you want to learn how to fight?

Fledgling: So I can be big and strong like you and papa were

Phoenix: There is more to strength than knowing how to wield a sword, my child. There is strength of spirit, strength of heart, strength of mind… why do you want to be strong with a sword?

Fledgling: I guess… I wanted to be like you and papa were in the stories you told me when you were little. About when you would go on adventures and stuff.

Phoenix: We wouldn’t have been half as strong if it wasn’t for your mother being there to help us know where to go. Your mama is the smartest person I know, and I think that makes her strong.

Fledgling: I… I guess so.

Phoenix: You don’t need a sword to be strong, little one. Listen to your heart. Find where your passions are and be true to them. That is where your strength will come from.

Fledgling: Oh… min’da?

Phoenix: Yes, little one?

Fledgling: What makes you strong?

Phoenix: Well… I guess I am strong of heart to keep pushing forward after difficulties. Sometimes being able to persevere in the face of adversity is its own strength,

Fledgling: Were you always that kind of strong?

Phoenix: No, not always. I only learned how to be like that as I got older. When I was younger, I used to fight constantly. I thought that was the only kind of strong that I was worthy of.

Fledgling: Why did you fight so much?

Phoenix: Well, I fought for different reasons at different times. Sometimes I fought for Kalimdor and her people. Sometimes I fought to show everyone how strong I was. Sometimes… sometimes I had to fight to survive.

Fledgling: What about now?

Phoenix: Well, I don’t fight now. I’m a priestess, sweetheart. Min’da helps the sick and the hungry and leaves the fighting to the soldiers and guards. But… if I were to have to fight again, it would be to protect you and your brother and your mama and papa.

Fledgling: For us?

Phoenix: Uh huh.

Fledgling: Why?

Phoenix: Because I love you, silly. I love all of you and I’d do anything to keep you safe.

With a playful laugh, the priestess embraced the child before helping her back to their first positions. The two practiced until dinner time before joining the girl’s mother, father, and brother at the dinner table. While the girl would one day grow to become a fencer of great renown in her own right, she was known just as well for her kind demeanor and tempered attitude.

This is not the end

[riizev2]

End Sequence I: Confessions

Present Day - Cathedral of the Light, Stormwind City

A pair of figures sit within a confessional booth. One wears the purple leather armor of a Sentinel trainee; the other a floor length white gown adorned with golden accents. As the traveler sits down, she removes her cowl to reveal the faded black lines of tattoos brushing against her face. Long tendrils that claw possessively against her neck and cheeks. Clearing her throat, she begins to speak.

Traveler: Bless me, confessor, for I have sinned. It has been nine months since my last confession.

Confessor: What are your sins, daughter of the night?

Traveler: I have held contempt in my heart.

Confessor: Who have you held contempt for?

Traveler: Many, in truth. I have held contempt for family, both by blood and by bond. I have held contempt for gods and goddesses. Most of all, I have held contempt for myself.

Confessor: Holding such poisonous emotions taints the heart, my child. You cannot hope to find peace of happiness while you hold all of this inside you.

Traveler: And lo, I am here. I’d meant to come sooner but something always seemed to get in the way.

Confessor: It is rare to see children of Elune in our halls, yet this is not your first confession.

Traveler: No, no it is not. My sister- adoptive sister, she introduced me to the practice. She was a confessor herself. She would sit outside my bedroom door and listen to my confessions… I’d talk for hours if I could get away with it. She would always listen attentively, no matter how long the session went, and I would always feel better when it was over.

Confessor: Confession is good for the soul. By the tone of your voice, however, I’d guess these sessions did not last?

Traveler: She lost the faith. She lost a lot of things, and it changed her. It became harder and harder to recognize the sister I made those months ago. She grew cold and aloof. I miss the way things were. I miss when we felt like a family.

Confessor: Change can be difficult. Your paths may just be diverging. You cannot blame her if life has taken you in different directions.

Traveler: It’s not that simple.

Confessor: It never is, yet here we stand. Whatever pain you feel in your heart, it isn’t worth poisoning the good memories you shared. She will be her own person, and you have no control over that. You can either make peace with who she is now and be a part of her life, or you can make that peace and move on.

Traveler: Mmm…

Confessor: What is stopping you from trying to reconnect?

Traveler: I don’t want to risk getting hurt again.

Confessor: I see. Has she hurt you in the past?

Traveler: Yes. Some of my greatest pain came from my time with her.

Confessor: Have you ever hurt her?

Traveler: Yes, I have.

Confessor: Have you ever heard of the porcupine’s dilemma, my child?

Traveler: I can’t say I have.

Confessor: In the winter, porcupines find trouble huddling together for warmth because their quills poke and prod at their partners. They must bring themselves into contact for survival, yet they hesitate at the fear of hurting others or hurting themselves. We are like that, in our own ways. To crave closeness is natural, yet we always fear that opening ourselves up to others will leave us vulnerable to pain.

Traveler: Right.

Confessor: It is clear that whatever happened has caused you pain. Maybe it was unintended, maybe it was deliberate. We cannot know what goes on in the minds of others. She may be carrying her own baggage that you do not see. Every life is complex, and we can never hope to fully comprehend all of it.

Traveler: Maybe so… I just wish I had the chance to say goodbye.

Confessor: That is life, my child. Not all exits are made equal. Some are satisfying, beautiful even. Others are abrupt and unfair. We must learn to move on from them. Closure isn’t always something you find; sometimes it is something you make yourself.

Traveler: I suppose you are right, though it is much easier to say than to believe.

Confessor: It always is. Tell me, what of this contempt for yourself?

Traveler: I… I was a cultist. I swore oaths to dark powers and forsook my people and their customs. I did… terrible things in the will of the Old Gods.

Confessor: What led you down such a dark path, my child?

Traveler: Their promises were… attractive. I was lonely, sad, and lost. They promised me a home in the darkness where I wouldn’t be judged. My veil and cloak would hide my scars… all it would cost was lending an ear and keeping an open mind.

Confessor: Such powers prey on the vulnerable, my child. They target our insecurities and use them to control us. They present us with easy solutions to difficult problems; and there is no problem more difficult than the self.

Traveler: It was the only home I knew…

Confessor: Or the only home you were told. You were manipulated, as many were.

Traveler: Am I not accountable for the actions I took? Shouldn’t I have been stronger?

Confessor: Do you regret the actions you took?

Traveler: Yes, of course.

Confessor: Do you consider yourself a different person now than you were back then?

Traveler. Yes.

Confessor: Then you have changed and grown stronger. You cannot color your whole life on your actions in the darkest moments of it. That is the first step towards reconciliation.

Traveler: What is the second step?

Confessor: Putting in the work to undo the pain you have caused others. To not just say that you are a changed person but to prove it through works and deeds. It may take years to find peace, but only through action will your heart truly mend.

Traveler: What if I never find peace?

Confessor: Then you will die knowing that you left behind a legacy of good deeds to weigh against your misgivings.

Traveler: That… I can abide by.

Confessor: Then go forth, my child. Find where you can do good and make it your home.

Traveler: I shall.

Confessor: Light bless you

Traveler: And keep you…

The traveler would go on to become a medic in the Sentinel Army. Even in the most dire of situations or under the heaviest of fire, she worked without hesitation to save as many lives as possible. When the fighting was over, she retired to live a pious life among the Sisterhood of Elune. She learned to show her scars with pride instead of hiding them from the world, for those scars were an indicator not of who she was but how much she had grown.

This is not the end

[joskinar]

About the Mun

Star sign: Taurus

Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first four songs that pop up:

Ocean - Lauren Aquilina

Cellophane - Sia cover by Steam Powered Giraffe

Insane - Korn

Can’t Sleep Love - Pentatonix

(What a delightful range of songs I enjoy)

Grab the nearest book to you and turn to page 23, what line is 17?

This child was not in the least attractive, being thin as a wraith, grubby, and shabbily dressed, with bare legs and bare feet and the peculiar and distasteful odor that only small and sweaty children emit.

-The Soulforge by Margaret Weis and Don Perrin

(Moment where I realize this might have been the subconscious thing that led to the name of Jos’s band.)

Ever had a poem written about you?

Yes, the only one that comes to mind is that my fiance proposed to me via poem.

When was the last time you played the air guitar? 

Oh God, well over a decade.

One sound you hate and one you love:

Open mouth chewing is probably the absolute worst sound for me and I love the sound of a sensual growl (probably tmi but it’s legit the first sound that came to mind).

Do you believe in ghosts?

Yes.

Do you believe in aliens?

Yes. Do I believe they’ve contacted or interacted with us already? Not so sure.

Do you drive and if so have you gotten in a crash? 

I do and I haven’t *knocks on wood repeatedly*

Do you like the smell of gasoline? 

Yes, but knowing it kills brain cells I tend to stay away from it.

Last movie you’ve seen?

Worst injury you’ve ever had? 

Thinking about it it was probably when I broke my leg when I was little. (TW for those of you that get queasy over stuff like this) I was playing with my step dad in the car, kicking and pushing the back of his seat as he had it unlocked and he’d playfully pushing back against my kicking feet. Well, I locked my legs because I was a dumb kid and because my dad was a dumb young guy he pushed back with more force than intended he broke my leg, snapped it millimeters away from my growth plate.

The funniest part of this story though is my mom (not realizing the extent of what just occurred) went to a gas station and bought a pack of band-aids and put one on my knee and it actually got me to stop crying.

Do you have any obsessions rn? 

Game wise, Warframe is probably the closest to what I’d consider an obsession. Artistically, one of my best friend’s characters has absolutely been my muse as of late.

Do you hold grudges?

I try not to, but sometimes it takes me a little bit to calm down. If someone hasn’t genuinely apologized for boorish behavior or hateful comments then I tend to not believe they’ve changed, so if it’s a grudge to avoid them or even warn people I care about about them, then I suppose that is my line.

In a relationship? 

I’m engaged as well as in a poly relationship with a couple of people who are very dear to me.

Tagged by @riizev2

Tagging whoever wants to do this! Seriously I’m terrible about tagging folks.

[lost-prince-of-corona]

Please reblog this is if you would rp with trans muses.

I see a lot of people unwilling to rp with me because my muse is trans, and because of that I feel nobody in the rp community ever will. So, yeah, reblog if you would rp with trans muses (nonbinary muses included).

[actionjaxkol]

All the time, most of my friends are trans. Please don’t be afraid to hit me up to RP. 

[riizev2]

First Flight

It has been some time since I last recorded my thoughts upon these yellowed pages. Not from lack of activity, no; some things are better left lost to history. Things finally feel steady again. Stability is hard to come by, especially in times of war.

I’ve found myself within the aerial unit the Wings of Kalimdor. Their Commander, Naelir Moonblade, sees potential in me as a rider and skirmisher. Taking my oath and affixing my uniform, I cannot help but reminisce on times long past. How many oaths taken? How many uniforms worn? Yet this one feels different. It is something distinctly kaldorei, and that is special. It feels like maybe, just maybe, I have found the way back to my people.

We were called to fight not long after my oath was taken. Members of the Silver Circle and the Wings fighting side by side to protect the few safe outposts along the warfront. Readying my hippogryph, Diomedes, we rode north. She has taken far better to me ever since I was rehabilitated. I think there is some smell or aura that she detects that I cannot. There is confidence in her motions where previously there was suspicion. We are finally a team instead of wary allies of circumstance.

The fighting was hit and run and lasted into the night. The act of taking another life is never pleasant. Each swing is deliberate, etched into your mind as you snuff out the flame. Even against the damnable Forsaken that took my family from me, I cannot pretend I enjoyed fighting them. And yet, side by side with my countrymen, I felt serenity. Memories of being a part of a unit rise and fall in my mind like the cool waters of the tide. Is this peace? Have I found my new home?

I miss my partners. Joskinar and Aurelia are surely dealing with their own struggles while I find myself. Still, I do not want to feel broken any longer. I want to find all the missing pieces and put myself back together. I want to feel whole.

[Mentions: @joskinar @smoke-and-stilettos ]

[smoke-and-stilettos]

In Swift Response...

{{ in response to to my beloveds… }}

Dearest Riize,

The letter has reached us perfectly, though you may find a direct address on the reverse side of this paper. We are well taken care of, so if you are, do not fret over our safety here.

I apologize for what has happened with Sordasa Academy. I am directly responsible for the displacement of all its members, and that is a heavy cross to bear. I feel awful about it, but I believe Joskinar and I came up with a solution. For the meantime, don’t trouble yourself with the issue. 

I understand your feelings of darkness… There is one coming and for risk of this letter falling into the wrong hands, I don’t wish to discuss it here. Perhaps we can find a neutral ground to meet on to discuss the matter in person. I have some things to tell you.

I am pleased to hear of your successes in Feathermoon. Being around the Kaldorei is good for you, and I look forward to seeing the woman you become upon your return.

I love you very much. Don’t ever forget that. And you above all know I cannot control how Joskinar behaves.

Love always, Aurelia

[joskinar]

[scrawled in his absolutely atrocious handwriting there was another piece of paper sent along with Aurelia’s]

Riize,

I'm so glad you're doing well, I know I've said before that you should be proud of everything you've achieved and I will again. You've always had reason to stand tall, but I'm happy you have found yet another.

I love you, be safe, Joskinar

P.S. I absolutely will not behave myself. I cannot be tamed.

@riizendraconis

[smoke-and-stilettos]

Dark Holiday

{{ this post takes place prior to to my beloveds… }}

Something Aurelia always loved about Quel’Danas was the mild weather, despite the changing if the seasons.  Unfortunately, she;d been unable to enjoy the sunshine, though she;d spent the better part of a week exposed to it.  Even now, as she sat on the balcony of her room, overlooking the town, it was tainted. The news of Sordasa Academy’s complete dissolved weighed heavily on her. More than half a year of work had gone into bringing the Academy up to par, and with work yet to be done, she had thought it would be in capable hands following her demotion. Of course, she was wrong.

And on top of that, the now constant violet tint in her eyes was a growing concern.

The com device sat silent in her hands, even as the whispers if the void chatted away to her.  They’d gotten louder since her arrival in Quel’Danas. She assumed it had something to do with her lose proximity to the Sunwell. The sorceress had kept her distance, remembering what had occurred when Alleria Windrunner herself had visited the font. Aurelia did not wish to be the reason for its complete corruption.

The tendril sprouting from the back of her neck, however, were another matter entirely.

She’d noticed them the night Riizen had left. Upon their discovery, the whispers had suggested she keep them a secret. She’d done so, fashioning her stone-colored tresses around them, covering them completely.  She knew she should tell someone, but with Riizen’s recent purification, Aurelia didn’t wish to rain anymore darkness upon her family. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Joskinar found out about them, either through his own discovery , or Umbral filling him in.  She wasn’t completely sure how his connection worked with Joskinar, only that they each felt what the other did,  She didn’t know if Umbral could keep secrets from Joskinar. And if he could, would he?  Something as potentially dangerous as this could make or break Aurelia.  The Void entity inside Joskinar shared an emotional connection to him, and the byproduct of that was Umbral actually loving her.  It wasn’t likely the secret would stay a secret for long.

Honestly, what Aurelia needed was something to focus on. Something she loved, once.

Hurried, she rushed back into the bedroom, digging out parchment and a pen from the desk.  It flew across the paper as she wrote, and was sealed and brought down to the innkeeper immediately to be mailed.

Once she was safely in her room, she sat down on the bed. A choice had been made, and with it, an odd sense of relief.

Dear Lady Draconis…

{{ mentions: @zarabloodstar, @riizendraconis, @joskinar, @strixena }}

[riizendraconis]

rest

“Use the time you have between now and then to thoroughly consider the path you wish to walk –– the road ahead is neither for the timid nor the unsure.”

The pillow beneath Riizen’s head was utterly heavenly. Never had the rest at the end of a trip been so welcome than this one. It felt as if the world she had known in Easterly was so far away. It could have been on Outlands or Argus. Feathermoon was different. It reminded her of her childhood and a home now burnt to the ground.

And yet, even in her tired form, the words of her sister rang through her ears. The communications device she had been granted all those months ago sat lifeless on the bedside table; she could not bring herself to wear it. The news of the Academy’s dissolving had brought more worry and pain than she could manage. Had her talk with Aurelia pushed her to leave, knocking over the first domino? Had it been her fault? 

The buzzing in her mind threatened to overtake her, only silenced by the words of the Sentinel captain who had found her on the road. “You are home, sister.” Riizen repeated those words back to herself, curling up around the necklace she had constructed. Aurelia’s ring and Joskinar’s earrings brought with her a feeling of peace.

There would be more fighting to come, but for now there was stillness. Time to heal.

OOC: I’m going to take some time to reevaluate Riizen and her place in the wide world of World of Warcraft between now and 8.1. I will still be making updates about the path ahead, but it will be in places we haven’t been before and with new people. I want to stay, but to do that sometimes you need to reshuffle the deck and add a new log to the fire.

Mentions: @joskinar @smoke-and-stilettos @strixena @rhenelle-nightblade

[joskinar]

Just like @riizendraconis I decided to make Joskinar in SoulCalibur VI. Of course I couldn’t forget to add the all important tramp stamp in the best way I could.

[smoke-and-stilettos]

A Brief Farewell

Dear Lady Draconis,

I am writing this with my sincerest apologies, but I am resigning from my post as Headmistress of Sordasa Academy. As it is, my heart just isn’t in it anymore, and rather than have the Academy and the House as a whole suffer, I wish to be moved into a subordinate position. I will gladly assist you in finding a replacement for me if you wish it, as it was a great honor to help you build the Academy up from where it was prior to my appointment. I want to see the Academy thrive, and I think the only way it can is with in the capable hands of someone with fresh ideas.

Should you need me, I will be taking a short sabbatical in Quel’Danas with my sister. All letters will be forwarded to us there. We will return in two week’s time, if not sooner.

Best regards, Lady Aurelia Voidsong

The letter was sealed with wax and sent off nearly immediately after Aurelia finished writing it. She didn’t wish to keep anyone waiting on her. Even hours later she remained at her desk in her study, nothing but ghosts to keep her company. She was numb, feeling no sadness or remorse.

Her packing was completed. All that waited was the single letter sent to Strixena, and now that that was completed, she had nothing else to do except don her cloak and begin her travels. The ship would be leaving shortly, which she was thankful for; she never liked waiting around. Zara had been informed, and had elected to join her. Joskinar had also been told, and a letter had been sent to Riizen as well.

Following everything that had occurred, Aurelia felt like she needed the short vacation. While Quel’Danas wasn’t exactly the trip she had envisioned, it was the only location she was sure of. And of course, she would stay out of the Horde’s way. Thankfully, she still had a few friends that would keep her presence a secret.

As the clock struck five, she rose from her chair. Without ceremony, she donned her cloak and slipped her shoes on, already hearing Zarastra in the doorway.

“Come on, Aurelia. It’s time.”

Plastering a smile on her face, she followed her sister out.

{ mentions: @strixena, @zarabloodstar, @joskinar, @riizendraconis }

[riizendraconis]

The closest thing I’ve done to peer-reviewed work all semester

@saidelia-draconis @smoke-and-stilettos @priestessthyruah @claret-chorus @dralavashsilverguard @celestare @malaashava @geraldcreed @musings-ofa-madman @strixena @absinthe-and-sin @joskinar

@housedraconis

[riizendraconis]

The people have spoken and edits have been made. I guess I don’t know all of you as well as I thought.

[joskinar]

Appearance - Joskinar Soulshred

[Art done by @jademerien]

BODY

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Toned thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Toned arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Athletic frame, Voluptuous frame. Curvy frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Small waist. Average waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Narrow shoulders. Broad shoulders. Average shoulders. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

HEIGHT

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180 cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Moles. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scars. Birthmarks. Burn marks.

EYES

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Violet. Pink. Green. Gold. Yellow. Hazel. Silver. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Deep-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Dark sclera. Dark Iris. Light Iris. Shaded Iris. Dark Pupil. Light (lambent) Pupil.

HAIR

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Afro. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Past hip-length. Buzzcut. Bald. Weave. Hair extensions. Jaw length. Mohawk. Dreadlocks. Box braids. Faux locks. White. Platinum Blonde. Golden Blonde. Dirty Blonde. Ash Blonde. Honey Blonde. Blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Almond brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Raven black. Ginger. Red. Auburn. Dark Purple. Cobalt Blue. Dyed. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows. Shaped eyebrows. Long eyebrows.

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. Back tattoo. Shoulder blade tattoo. One tattoo. Face tattoo. Hand tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoos. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Cupid’s Bow piercing. Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercings. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Top of the ear piercing. Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretched out ears. Navel piercing. Chest-bone piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

COSMETICS

Eyeliner (kohl). Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red Lips. Pink Lips. Nude Lips. Dark Lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears war paint from time to time. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Rarely wears make-up.

SCENT

Floral. Herbal. Earthy. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Fur. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana (bloodthistle). Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain.

CLOTHES

Jeans. Tight pants. Over-knee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Robes. Tight/Form-fitting dress. Cardigans. Tunic. Blouse. Button up Shirt. Band Shirt. Sports-Shirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop.  Cut off Shirt. Designer. High street. Leather jacket. Thrift.  Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sundress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. High-slit dress/skirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Waistcoat. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Sport shorts. Boxers/Boxer-Briefs.Thong. Hot-pants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Cotton. Linen. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Light colors. White. Black. Dark colors. Fur/Fauxfur. Revealing clothing. Heavy armor. Medium armor. Light Armor. Cloak.

SHOES

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Cat heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high boots. Platform heels. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes. Plate Boots. Leather boots.

Tagged by: @olivia-lovecraft and @riizendraconis

Tagging: whoever might wish to do this! Just tag me in it :3

[riizendraconis]

⚔️- To hear what drop you receive for killing my muse || 🏹 - To hear what drop I think my muse would get for killing yours (I'm greedy and wanna know both)

⚔️- To hear what drop you receive for killing my muse 

“Jos… Jos listen to me.”

The bullet had struck true, piercing through Riizen’s chest. What little time she had left would need to be used wisely. Blood curdled inside her mouth as she reached into her coat pocket, searching for one final parting gift.

“This is not your fault.”

[Time-Lost Wedding RingsEpic TrinketUnique-Bind on Pickup+150 AgilityEquip: Upon taking lethal damage, negate that damage and heal 20% of maximum HP. (300 second cooldown)A trio of moonsilver wedding rings in a velvet container. Bought for a day that never came; it would feel wrong to separate the set.]

🏹 - To hear what drop I think my muse would get for killing yours

“But… why?”

It took every ounce of strength Riizen had in her to not start crying. She pulled upward with the blade, giving a gasp of effort as she wretched the weapon from her lover’s fresh corpse.

[Icon of the Vulpine RogueEpic TrinketUnique-Bind on Pickup+450 EvasionUse: Gain 600 haste, diminishing by 60 each second for ten seconds (30 second cooldown)An onyx charm from a dashing scoundrel. It still carries with it some of his charm and good fortune.]

[everythingfox]

This is what the fox says (🔊)

[riizendraconis]

death throes II

Continued from here

And then, a sudden stop. A splash of salt-water as her body collided with the ocean. Too heavy to move and too overwhelmed to react, the kaldorei drifted listlessly against the tides. As her body floated to the surface, her ears flickered as sound began to return. First, the lapping of waves. Then the creaking of wood as a ship approached. Finally, a familiar voice; an older woman with a Darnassian accent.

“Come on, sailor. It isn’t your time yet.”

Riizen’s eyes flickered open, gazing upwards from her reclined position. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the wind was blowing a steady stream into the east. The soft rocking of wood beneath her was familiar; it was a sensation she would know anywhere and in any time period.

She was on a boat.

“Ah, you’re awake. I thought you might have actually crossed over for a second there, kid.”

The kaldorei rotated her head downward, meeting the gaze of her old mentor. Ophelia Seastrider was the kind of kaldorei woman she had wanted to be growing up. Her smile could have launched a thousand ships, and her muscles wooed more than a few into service. Riizen included. Even with so much time between their last interaction, she knew every detail of her face. Ever strand of her braided white hair. Even the very minor imperfection in her claw-shaped facial tattoos.

“Don’t try to talk; you took quite the fall. Besides, I need pretty much every second we have left together.”

Guiding the dinghy forward, the naval officer left her spot at the mast and took a seat before Riizen. Their eyes met as the younger kaldorei couldn’t help but blush, breaking the contact first. That brought the smallest of smiles to Ophelia’s face as she began speaking.

“Most of the people I fetch out here stay out here; I don’t usually get to sail people back to the shoreline. You should count yourself lucky. You’re getting your second chance, Riize. It isn’t your first one, but what is life but a string of mistakes and attempts?”

A shudder passed through Riizen as she looked out towards the water, making out shapes in what had previously been only abyssal depths. They were in shallower water, for certain. Against the ocean floor she could make out massive stone shapes. Oceanic shelves lined with intricate patterns of softly glowing crystals.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’ve made my own mistakes that I’ve had to come back from. I’m more trying to help you learn a lesson. One that I think you really need to internalize.” Ophelia sighed softly as she waited for Riizen to look back to her before continuing.

“You need to let go of the past. You carry around every mistake you’ve ever made like an open wound. You need to let yourself heal and get over your hang-ups.”

As if prepared for Riizen attempting to open her mouth and question her, Ophelia answered her question immediately. “Yes, that includes with me. I don’t really care that you used my name for a while. I was kind of already dead and not using it. You’re kind of a drama queen, you know that right?” The older kaldorei gave a playful laugh as she got to her feet, taking the sails once more. The first glimmer of land was on the horizon.

“Either way, you’ve got a lot to think about. A lot to do. I’d recommend not doing it alone; figure out what’s important to you and move forward. Or don’t; I’m not your mother. Or your sister” Another laugh, though this one was utterly bereft of humor. Gazing at the shoreline, Riizen began to recognize the combination of ships and buildings. It was Easterly. It was home.

“Either way, I’ll be watching you, kid. You’ve got a spark; use it.”

———

Gasping for air, Riizen awoke with a start. The familiar lighting of her workshop-apartment came into view, windows currently shuttered with their blast-proof hatches. She was in her own bed; she was in her own body. Her first instinct was to get up and explore, but everything ached.

Looking down her chest, Riizen examined herself as best she could. Her skin tone had brightened considerably, now with some red where there was once only grey. A large Y-shaped scar had been sewed up; her fingers idly traced upon it as she closed her eyes and listened to a sound she had so desperately missed.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

[riizendraconis]

death throes I

You feel the coldness start at your fingertips and toes, slowly proceeding to overtake your hands and feet.

Your breathing slows. The mechanical rhythm of your body grows quieter and quieter.

From that cold comes numbness. It encroaches upon your limbs, beginning to claw at your chest. Your senses fade one by one.

You are dying.

There were so many stars. Riizen’s eyes reflected them as she floated effortlessly among them. No matter what direction she turned, she could make out more and more lights in the boundless sky. Their patterns danced and shifted, illuminated by the glow of chromatic nebula and spiraling galaxies. The infinite rotations of a universe so much bigger than she could ever comprehend.

The kaldorei drifted silently through the expanse between worlds. She hadn’t brought anything with her that she could carry. The only baggage on this journey was what resided in her heart. It was so strange; she could not feel it beating. Not even the hollow thud of the diseased husk that resided in her chest cavity. There was nothing. More nothing than she could even imagine.

Gliding effortlessly, Riizen rotated to look above her; or was it beneath her? It was impossible to gauge her orientation without points of reference. There was something out there, something she needed to see. Accelerating, the worlds began to pass by faster as she glided through space. Spheres housing countless inhabitants and endless possibilities whizzed by like trees against the trails of her homelands.

As Riizen explored further, the lights began to twinkle out one by one. Before long, there was no ambiance at all beyond the soft glow of what had passed behind her. There were still worlds, but they were enveloped in foreboding purple clouds. The stars had all burnt out, leaving behind barren cinders. The radiant warmth of the cosmos had given way to a lifeless chill. There was no comfort this far from home.

Among the inky blackness, figures began to move. Their eyes were burned out stars and their bodies crafted from the debris of long-forgotten worlds. They stared unblinking at the kaldorei as she attempted to orient herself, though the action proved fruitless. They were had surrounded her. No matter where she glanced, eyes stared back.

From among them, one voice spoke through an infinite number of mouths. Its qualities were impossible to comprehend, each individual characteristic muffled through the sheer multitude of sounds. After an eternity of silence, the sensation was deafening. Riizen wished to cover her ears, but her hands did not leave her side. Her entire body felt unresponsive

“You have arrived, my child. Your time has come; free from the mortal coil, you may join your brothers and sisters in harmony.” Though they spoke of reunion, there was no joy in the voice of the Void. “You seem resistant. Is this not what you wanted?”

“No.” Riizen’s answer was a whisper against the chorus of long dead worlds, barely audible even to herself.

“No? Did we not give you everything you wanted?”

“What I asked for wasn’t what I needed.”

The stardust began to encroach upon Riizen, tendrils of powdered rock and ice brushing against her barren skin. Her tattoos were brought into stark focus as the voices returned. Their words seemed so much closer now, practically inside her mind. They spoke with authoritative purpose as their collective eyes bore into Riizen.

“You do not know what you need; we do. You are but a child in the face of beings that have outlived your world. We have forgotten more than your pathetic world has ever known.”

From the powder, a malevolent sapphire energy began to trace Riizen’s skin. Starting at her hands, her tattoos began to lose definition. Those markings she had spent so long crafting faded, leaving behind the tendrils but stealing away the scripture. They were wasted on a non-believer. The distinct hue of the ink faded to black, growing inert and lifeless. As the energy progressed through her body, a fine cloud of particles began to emerge from Riizen’s mouth. Her cries of pain caught in her throat, forced to suffocate as what magic she could wield began to vacate her body.

“Maybe you were not ready for our gifts; maybe you never will be. It matters not; you are not and were not ever special. You are utterly replaceable” The particles from Riizen’s lips began to form another figure among the endless masses, eyes of black flame emerging from within the silhouette. Riizen stared into that fire, seeing only a familiar visage.

“A part of you will always be here. Even if you turn your back on the truth, you will always know our touch. You will always hear our voice, even if your ignorance muddles our words. You have given something that can never truly be reclaimed.” There was a pause as the stream of particles finally ended, permitting Riizen to breathe deeply again.

“Broken things always yearn to be whole; you will come back. You will fall upon your knees at our altars once more. Until then, enjoy your ignorance. Enjoy your ‘freedom.’ For when your master arises and calls upon the faithful, they will not be so kind nor so forgiving. You will serve all the same.”

The drifting kaldorei felt a sensation of weight began to pull at her body. The weightlessness she had enjoyed disappeared in an instant as an invisible tether began to pull her backwards. Away from the darkness and the death of the universe and towards the familiar. The ticking of countless lives and equally infinite worlds darted by as only millisecond long smears of color before fading. The sheer speed of it all threatened to rend Riizen’s body in twain.

And then, a sudden stop. A splash of salt-water as her body collided with the ocean. Too heavy to move and too overwhelmed to react, the kaldorei drifted listlessly against the tides. As her body floated to the surface, her ears flickered as sound began to return. First, the lapping of waves. Then the creaking of wood as a ship approached. Finally, a familiar voice; an older woman with a Darnassian accent.

“Come on, sailor. It isn’t your time yet.”