((This is an inspiration board for my characters "Kharris" & "Khaeris" on WoW's WrA server. Face claim: Deepika Padukone Look in the "Tags" menu to see posts specific to alts. So many alts also live here. Character mini profiles My Art My personal Tumblr is http://jennmcstuff.tumblr.com/ ))
'Different kingdom…same nobles. They could shake up some habits. For me…little variety and all that. Don't suppose anyone has every told them about variety being the spice of life…'
Raxwel exhaled, unbothered by the plume of smoke, and appeared to be more interested in inspecting the cigar he held than the those passing by the spot he'd chosen to settle in for the afternoon.
The reality — as it often was — was something very different.
After several weeks in Silvermoon he'd come to the rather boring conclusion that whether it was nobility in Stormwind, nobility in Gilneas, or nobility here…they played all the same games, and they had all the same rules. Though they all wanted everyone to think it was different.
It really was quite disappointing.
They tried to dress it up and make it look a little different…but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck then…well…
He huffed, bringing the cigar to his lips once again.
Kyden had wandered off with Finn — a little adventure of his own (he'd gone to visit his mother and had taken Finn for emotional support…and also for help in case he got lost), and he could only do so much people watching when all the details were so painfully similar.
He was getting bored, and he tended to find trouble when he was bored.
The last thing he needed was to be chased by the city's guards…again.
Another exhale, another plume, his thoughts drifting — there was one possibility, though…how long had it been? Two years? Three? It had to have been longer than that.
The last time they spoke he didn't know about Reynault…he certainly didn't know about Kyden.
Raxwel hummed, considering what remained of the cigar for a long moment before disposing of it. He had…disappeared for no small amount of time. Perhaps a conversation was a bit over do.
T,
I seem to have found myself in your neck of the woods, if you will.
It's certainly no Dalaran, but at least this time I'm not scaling the walls to evade the guards…yet. Though I'm sure that will happen, given enough time.
You know me, given the time and opportunity I will find trouble. Or create it. One or the other.
If you've an interest - perhaps an opportunity to catch up? Since it's been no few years?
Let me know — I'll be in the city a few weeks longer.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks
Their personality
And who they are to my muse
+ Etc!
___
Khaeris & Pyraelia
Khaeris was her favorite bright spark. You could always hear her coming before you saw her; her steps and graceful movement jingled and chimed. How lovely it was to always be surrounded by music! It suited her, though. Her radiant friend always danced through life in a way that Pyraelia admired.
She hadn't been the best friend to Khaeris lately. Part of her felt like it would be disappointing to be so much of a downer around the other woman. Not that Khaeris never had her moments or periods of melancholy; there was always some time after Pollux deployed where she'd go a bit blue, but that made plenty of sense.
Still, the colorful silks she wrapped herself in — from skirts, to tops and brilliant bangles — were always cheerful. It wasn't hard to see why people were so drawn to her. Khaeris had a sunny sort of magnetism and a gorgeous smile. Plus she was a clever alchemist to boot.
The perfumes she made Pyraelia were always delicate and decadent. She'd figured out the first potion that really helped to keep Pyraelia's auto-immune disorder in check.
Perhaps it was time to invite her to the beach. They both enjoyed it; not necessarily swimming at the beach, but it was a nice place to be companionable together. The way the sun kissed K's hair with a sort of raven feather iridescence was always fascinating, and it was fun finding and comparing shells and sea glass.
It is the 10th Anniversary of the Succulent Tart's Fire Fest
Come out to enjoy the vendors, performers and raves on Friday and Saturday nights.
Thursday, June 18th - Saturday, June 20th
Mar'at, Uldum
Hosted on Wyrmrest Accord
Please check our Carrd for more info!
Join the Fire Fest Discord!
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse + Etc!
___
Pyraelia & Mesandrèaux
Mesandrèaux was kind. And a little awkward. Pyraelia wasn't sure how much of the latter was the language barrier and trying to find her way in a different elven kingdom that was so different, but still much the same, from Suramar.
Her own family had never been religious. Arcane was less fallible than gods and goddesses. Her pilgrimage seemed to make her happy, though, even if it had been stymied by the unrest. It was probably nice to see so many new things, and experience so many new people.
Was it strange, at all, to be dark haired among the shining silvers and pastels? Pyraelia, and Fiorenze, had grown up brunette in a sea of platinum and strawberry blondes. At least now, well outside of the Court of Nobles, things were a bit more diverse.
It would have been nice to be better friends, but that seemed so beyond reach now. Between the interruption from the Terrace, Dawnwell and general chaos and whatever Pyraelia had done to upset Keyalin, the gulf seemed too wide to bridge. It wouldn't do well to push in and potentially cause more problems.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Tinnaire and Laeynna
Hello, little friend.
She'd thought it as she was sizing up a flowerbed of stone and dirt that she'd put outside on the front steps leading to the apartment. In the collective of talandra roses that was growing upward, she'd found a unicorn beetle. Tinnaire could probably tell her a lot about them. The most Laeynna knew was that she thought they were pretty darn cute.
Most beetles were. Most bugs were, in fact.
As she sat down to observe it waddle along, she admired in quiet and her thoughts turned onto the woman with the hair like it had been kissed by the very sun. Tinnaire, Tinnaire, Tinnaire. That sure was a name. Sometimes thinking of her filled Laeynna with dread. Sometimes it filled her with anger. Sometimes it filled her with something very sombre and wistful.
It was a strange thing. Things could have been different. Should have been. Laeynna hated that they weren't. She also hated that she couldn't just fix it and it had taken a lot of time for her to understand and accept that it wasn't her situation to fix. She had been nothing more than an innocent bystander pulled into a situation she didn't ask to be involved in and was blindsided. And afraid of the consequences of it she had offered multiple times to step aside, only to be met with reassurance that... probably came with the best of intentions but was mostly untrue.
It was really hard not to feel betrayed and lied to, though there was no actual betrayal or lying that had occurred. Only a withholding of information and an inability to predict the future.
Tinnaire, she thought, was a woman of contradictions. Laeynna always tried to be thoughtful and polite. Tried to be conscientious and considerate and kind. And once, she'd been told that in order for the relationship she now found herself tied in most seriously to be celebrated, Tinnaire needed to see it. So Laeynna had been brave and tried to be more in the public eye. Except then came the commentary within earshot. Then came the looks.
Not once. Not twice. Three times. Over the course of one year and then some. Three separate occasions. And Laeynna gave up. The message was well received. She wasn't welcome in public galas and soirees with him. They could go separately, probably, but that defeated the point. They could go and stand on opposite sides of a room, but that also defeated the point.
It felt like Tinnaire set her up to fail on purpose.
It was aggravating. Laeynna liked her. As Laeynna got to know her more, Tinnaire made her think of Alcilia, who had been so formative to her adolescence and many of the things that she liked. Sure, she'd idolised her father, but it had been Alcilia that really got Laeynna into plants and flowers, bugs and spiders, and so much of the natural world.
Laeynna set her jaw a little. She liked Tinnaire so much. Loved her free spirit. Loved that she liked things that other people might have found strange. Knew they had so much in common. That they were accustomed to being misunderstood by many around them. That neither of them really fit into the moulds that had been set for them by older traditional standards.
She didn't like being angry. She didn't like what it did to her. She didn't like how it impacted her. She wanted things to be different. Didn't know how to make things be different. Definitely couldn't force things to be different and she was never going to ask or expect Tinnaire to change how she felt about anything or what she wanted. People didn't work like that and Tinnaire deserved that respect and consideration.
She could have asked, but Tinnaire was contradictory and gave mixed messages and Laeynna couldn't determine what was the truth and what was a lie. Would she just get trapped again? She didn't want that. She didn't want to keep trying only for it to proverbially get thrown back in her face.
She just wished she knew what the secret criteria was, because clearly she hadn't hit it yet. Kindness, consideration, being polite, being amicable, none of those things had seemed to work. Maybe there wasn't anything she could do. Maybe nothing Laeynna would do would ever be good enough for Tinnaire.
The botanist's expression twisted up a bit. She didn't like thinking like that either. As she eyed the cute little unicorn beetle as it moved along across the soil of the flower bed, she knew there was still a little hope remaining in her heart. She wanted them to look at flowers together. She wanted Tinnaire to share more of her taxidermy with her. She wanted to learn what Tinnaire knew about bugs. She just wanted them to spend time together. To get to know one another without being coloured by things that were out of their control. They deserved that, she thought. Even when it felt like everything was against her, she didn't want to give up.
How much did she really believe in surrender, anyway?
~Sign-ups will be open DAY OF!
~You MUST be present at time of raffle drawing to win!
~Raffles are drawn Friday and Saturday AFTER performances at the main stage!
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Braedyn & Laeynna
As Laeynna leaned onto the counter and looked between the recipe for umbernut cake next to the bowl that she had mixed in the required ingredients, her nose scrunched right up. She was pretty sure whatever she made was definitely not the way it was supposed to be.
How the hell did Braedyn make things so flawlessly?
Practise, probably. As Laeynna sank down onto an elbow, she cradled her chin in the palm of her hand, gaze drifting absentmindedly. She had been baking for years, but had she always baked? Laeynna didn't know. She didn't ask, but it occurred to her that she felt like she hadn't taken more initiative in asking more. What did she really know about the proprietess of the Fancy Cakes Bakery?
She was married. Her husband's name was... Fortune, right? And she had kids. How many, though... Two? She was almost certain she'd asked about that. She sometimes blushed that soft pink that kissed her cheeks and when she did, it was extremely endearing. She hadn't ever dyed her hair, which she had recently learnt. But she didn't need to. It would have been difficult to picture her without that bright blonde hair.
Had Braedyn ever thought about doing something other than baking? Maybe it had been her life's passion and dream. Not very many people were able to follow that or to obtain it, but Braedyn seemed happy. She was good with people, Laeynna realised, but that probably came with running her own business and being the face of it. Sometimes people who weren't good with people or particularly sociable were still put in places like that out of necessity.
She worried sometimes that Braedyn didn't get enough conversation that wasn't on a professional level. Would she be receptive if Laeynna visited her during the week just to stop by for conversation that wasn't completely business-related? Would she be too busy for that kind of thing? Running a business, running a household... It was probably a lot. Maybe she didn't have time for that kind of thing.
The only way to know for sure, however, was to ask. There was no harm in it. Laeynna's expression grew firm. No. She would ask at the next open house if Braeydn would be open to some visiting time together. No bakery talk. No cake talk. No admitting that she completely was botching the umbernut cake mixture currently sitting on the counter.
She just wanted to make Braedyn the focus. And maybe learn a little more about her.
Our annual Fire Festival is back! Come and join us for our Chillin & Grillin BBQ on Thursday, before the Festival opens on Friday & Saturday!
WHEN: Thursday, June 18th - Saturday, June 20th
WHERE: Mar'at, Uldum
!! THIS IS HOSTED ON WYRMREST ACCORD !!
ANCHORS:
Horde: TBD
Alliance: TBD
🍖🍹THURSDAY EVENTS🍹🍖 (Begins at 6pm WrA/PT - 8pm MG):
Chillin' & Grillin' BBQ Social
This is a laid-back 'calm before the fire storm' event, there will be NO vendors, performances, or raffles today, but there will be A LOT of food, drink, swimming, dancing, and general fun! BBQ provided, bring a side/dessert/drink to share!
🏳️🌈FRIDAY EVENTS🏳️🌈 (Begins at 5pm WrA/PT - 7pm MG):
Vendors, performances, raffles, Pride party, and camping!
🔥SATURDAY EVENTS🔥 (Begins at 4pm WrA/PT - 6pm MG):
Vendors, performances, raffles, fireworks, and the Heat Rave 'til the sun comes up!
For more information, please check out our website: FireFest.crd.co
Or our Discord link: tinyurl.com/TartFireFestServer
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Mesandrèaux and Marint!
He was fairly certain he could do some, at the very least, vague sketches from memory.
Marint certainly had looked at her face long enough and often enough to have the idea of it in head. Part of him was amused that she humoured him. At least, she seemed inclined to. He couldn't even say when he'd begun to think on that project of his. That collection of moments frozen in the stones of time that would convey thought and emotion alike. He just knew when he was considering concepts and ideas he wanted to portray that Mesandrèaux would be perfect for it.
She didn't see what he did. Not at all. Didn't know she was beautiful. Didn't know she was charming. How had no one ever told her these things before? He had joked and said it was because they must have found her intimidating, but... She wasn't. At least, he didn't think so. She was so easy to speak with. So easy to spend time with.
Mesandrèaux always seemed to ask him a lot about himself. He never knew if that was a good thing or not. Could have simply been her curiosity. He suspected it was really that. People in the past had expressed such things, but considering the lines of work he was in, he'd never known if they just wanted information or if they were genuinely interested in him. In how he thought. In how he felt. In how he perceived the world. He thought Mesandrèaux was genuinely interested in him and that was a nice feeling.
As he sketched, thoughts of her swam about his head. Sharp features. Wide glowing eyes. Dark hair. Dark skin. She had said that she didn't think she was particularly pretty based on those features. Marint wanted to know who'd given her such an idea, so he could give them a solid right hook in the face. She didn't seem to think much of herself at all. Maybe a result of being so sheltered. That humble demeanour of hers was charming. As much as it was when she seemed completely befuddled by the idea that he was interested in her. As much as it was when she softly blushed that shade of violet each time he said something kind to her.
She must have thought him full of so much flattery. That wasn't the absence of truth, however. Flattery could be honest. When he gave it, it usually was. He didn't think himself the kind to flatter for no reason at all. If he'd been a more terrible man, he supposed he could have done that with purely the intentions of capturing the Moon Maiden's heart, but he didn't work like that. Mesandrèaux had no reason to believe it, though. She was right to be wary. Uncertain.
If she was to give him any of her time, Marint wanted to earn it. He wanted to be worthy of it. He wanted to bask in it, as if her time and any sliver of potential affection was moonlight. And of course, anything she did give him had to be of sound integrity. There had to be trust.
She made him more nervous than she knew. Marint wasn't an easy guy to do that to either. He could talk to people without breaking a sweat. He could even cunningly threaten in the most gentle way without ever shifting from that facade he sometimes had to play. He was a fairly calm, composed, level-headed man when it came to some of the work he did. He didn't worry about keeping his hands clean for he had clear lines there. And yet he worried a little when it came to Mesandrèaux.
Worried she'd get hurt. That he wouldn't be able to protect her the way he wanted to. Worried she wouldn't want him to protect her. Worried she'd think he wanted anything of her that she couldn't give. He liked her, of course. Was fond of her, without doubt. But he prioritised what she wanted above all else. As he had reassured her, his respect for her wouldn't change. It wouldn't shift. He would still see her the same way.
A curious young woman who spent so long sheltered that she viewed the world with no shortage of interest and fascination. She worried over how others perceived her. Worried that her habits others would find off-putting. Worried that she lacked the social grace she wanted to have. She worried so much.
It was likely that Mesandrèaux would never see the version of her that he saw. She didn't realise how perfect she was for that idea. Reverence. He revered her, in his own way. A gentle sort of fashion that was inconspicuous. That wasn't what made him think it, though. It was the way she looked at certain things. Statutes. The sky. The way he thought she saw things that no one else could.
She didn't know that she had reverence in those eyes of hers.
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