Westfall's Grace

Owner of 'Tumbleweeds' Shelter | Artist | Heart of Gold

[brilliantlybeloved]

[mozelledeliond]

Page of Pentacles - the most reliable and practical youth your character knows.

There is no one Mozelle would call a 'youth' who is also reliable and practical. Teens are stupid as all hell.

@miriam-maybrooke's daughter Adamara is probably the closest to a reliable and practical youth that Mozelle knows, but Mozelle's still expecting her to start making some impractical decisions sooner or later.

[gabytaangeles]

[brilliantlybeloved]

[howling--mouse-deactivated20251]

Atelier des Ours

[easternkingdomer]

Name Meme: Abby or Miriam.

Miriam

Most admirable quality: “Her strong drive to help those in need.”

Most attractive physical feature: “Her hair, it is quite lovely.”

Most annoying habit: “Her self sacrificing nature, she will lose herself if she doesn’t take more time to slow a little.”

Something they would like to do with them: “Take her to the spa again or out for a dinner. She needs some time to relax.”

@miriam-maybrooke

[mozelledeliond]

Winter’s Veil Gifts: The Maybrookes

A box wrapped in simple brown paper arrives for the Maybrooke household. At the very top of its contents sits a cream-colored notecard writ in shimmering blue ink:

Happy Holidays! Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need anything. — Mozelle

Keep reading

[brilliantlybeloved]

[thegoodvybe]

[easternkingdomer]

“!” Miriam (I swear I'll get back to that prompt sometime soon)

( I know you will!! <3 )

“A woman who has seen and been through much. She cares so much for everything and one around her she forgets herself. She is inspiring and her dedication something to follow after. I sense perhaps a great need for independence as many have failed her in the past. Hopefully I can encourage her to slow down a little at a time and take care of herself.”

“Easier said than done...”

@miriam-maybrooke

[aenslem]

KAREN GILLAN as AMY POND DOCTOR • WHO (2005– )

[ana-rosa]

[angelmilk]

my gandmothers old paintbrushes

[easternkingdomer]

Rushing through the city, carrying two large and too-heavy boxes, a familiar short redhead in pink robes bustled her way past a man she knew but would not recognize. Not even as she couldn't see over the boxes and nearly collided with him.

Vorain recognized miss Maybrooke, he watched as she rushed close and nearly bumped into him. He called out to her with a light smile gracing his lips.

"Be careful Miss Maybrooke! Would you care for some help or perhaps another pair of eyes?" His tone and word choice familiar though the face didn't match...

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

Miriam stopped as she heard her name and blinked a few times. She lowered the boxes in her arms and nearly dropped them in the process. She peeked over the boxes and looked one way then the other before looking to Vorain. Hazel eyes searched his face over, trying to recall the man. She didn’t recognize him as one who had come through her shelter, or that she had done business with for the shelter, nor from her time in the 7th.

After an elongated, awkward silence, Miriam remembered proper social protocols. “O-oh. Uhm. Well. I mean, I’m just bringing these to a wagon just outside the city. At the hitching post. If you’re offering.. w-well, I won’t say no, sir but.. ahm.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry-- do I know you? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m sorry.  I just- I think my memory is beginning to go.”

@easternkingdomer​

[easternkingdomer]

Vorain noted how she seemed to stare for a long moment, searching and trying to match. He waited patiently, then as she finally spoke he kept that smile and seemed to cant his ever so slightly at the way she spoke. As if this strange man knew a bit about her and wasn't used to the way she spoke now.

"Here...Let me help. I don't mind at all." He neared reaching his hands out to grab a box. "You do...but not like this. I'm Harris Raymoss." He nodded slowly.

A faint whisper near her ear

'Odum...Vorain...The man with many names.'

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

The box that he took was weighted. Perhaps it felt less so to him, but within were half a dozen thick, and heavy quilts. Supplies to help those at the shelter through the colder months. Supplies that, thank the Light, Miriam had been able to borrow a pony and wagon for.

“I’m afraid I don’t-- I don’t understand. I’m s--” Apologetic words caught in her throat, her eyes opening wide.

She looked him over. At first with confusion, then with some mingling of horror-- one didn’t get a body from nowhere-- before it fell into acceptance. A small nod. Who was she to judge one for coming back from the dead? For one life being lost for another? It was poor form to be a hypocrite. 

“You’re-- I thought you were... I was told you were...” She couldn’t figure out the word to say. She was told dead, but the word felt too harsh upon her tongue. Too insensitive. Yet it was the correct word.

@easternkingdomer​

[easternkingdomer]

He took the box, it certainly had a weight to it and he was impressed with Miriam's strength. Once it was situated he turned his gaze towards her, listening as she took a moment to find her words and smiled gently but said nothing for the moment.

"Removed?" He added before looking ready to step off and he followed if she started off. "It takes a bit more to...Remove me. No one listens I suppose." He inhaled sharply before speaking and seemed calm. Just happy to help for the moment, but he glanced at Miriam on occasion.

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

Removed.

It was a peculiar choice of words. He was viewed as a problem, a danger, and many other things by many other people. She had even thought so once upon a time. He still could be. She knew that. It was why she had insisted and continuously reminded him that his work in Westfall was supposed to be genuine. For a plethora of reasons she couldn’t have him undermine and harm those she had been working to help. She couldn’t see the vulnerable become the target. Again.

It appeared as though he had kept to his word though.

Ducking her head to hide the deep breath she took, she begun to lead the way through the Trade District, towards the city’s main gates. Now carrying half the weight and height, Miriam was able to see more clearly where she was going.

“Do the people that.. did it.. know?” Were they coming back for him? For ‘Harris’?

@easternkingdomer​

[easternkingdomer]

Rushing through the city, carrying two large and too-heavy boxes, a familiar short redhead in pink robes bustled her way past a man she knew but would not recognize. Not even as she couldn't see over the boxes and nearly collided with him.

Vorain recognized miss Maybrooke, he watched as she rushed close and nearly bumped into him. He called out to her with a light smile gracing his lips.

"Be careful Miss Maybrooke! Would you care for some help or perhaps another pair of eyes?" His tone and word choice familiar though the face didn't match...

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

Miriam stopped as she heard her name and blinked a few times. She lowered the boxes in her arms and nearly dropped them in the process. She peeked over the boxes and looked one way then the other before looking to Vorain. Hazel eyes searched his face over, trying to recall the man. She didn’t recognize him as one who had come through her shelter, or that she had done business with for the shelter, nor from her time in the 7th.

After an elongated, awkward silence, Miriam remembered proper social protocols. “O-oh. Uhm. Well. I mean, I’m just bringing these to a wagon just outside the city. At the hitching post. If you’re offering.. w-well, I won’t say no, sir but.. ahm.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry-- do I know you? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m sorry.  I just- I think my memory is beginning to go.”

@easternkingdomer​

[easternkingdomer]

Vorain noted how she seemed to stare for a long moment, searching and trying to match. He waited patiently, then as she finally spoke he kept that smile and seemed to cant his ever so slightly at the way she spoke. As if this strange man knew a bit about her and wasn't used to the way she spoke now.

"Here...Let me help. I don't mind at all." He neared reaching his hands out to grab a box. "You do...but not like this. I'm Harris Raymoss." He nodded slowly.

A faint whisper near her ear

'Odum...Vorain...The man with many names.'

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

The box that he took was weighted. Perhaps it felt less so to him, but within were half a dozen thick, and heavy quilts. Supplies to help those at the shelter through the colder months. Supplies that, thank the Light, Miriam had been able to borrow a pony and wagon for.

“I’m afraid I don’t-- I don’t understand. I’m s--” Apologetic words caught in her throat, her eyes opening wide.

She looked him over. At first with confusion, then with some mingling of horror-- one didn’t get a body from nowhere-- before it fell into acceptance. A small nod. Who was she to judge one for coming back from the dead? For one life being lost for another? It was poor form to be a hypocrite. 

“You’re-- I thought you were... I was told you were...” She couldn’t figure out the word to say. She was told dead, but the word felt too harsh upon her tongue. Too insensitive. Yet it was the correct word.

@easternkingdomer​

[brilliantlybeloved]

[easternkingdomer]

Rushing through the city, carrying two large and too-heavy boxes, a familiar short redhead in pink robes bustled her way past a man she knew but would not recognize. Not even as she couldn't see over the boxes and nearly collided with him.

Vorain recognized miss Maybrooke, he watched as she rushed close and nearly bumped into him. He called out to her with a light smile gracing his lips.

"Be careful Miss Maybrooke! Would you care for some help or perhaps another pair of eyes?" His tone and word choice familiar though the face didn't match...

@miriam-maybrooke

[miriam-maybrooke]

Miriam stopped as she heard her name and blinked a few times. She lowered the boxes in her arms and nearly dropped them in the process. She peeked over the boxes and looked one way then the other before looking to Vorain. Hazel eyes searched his face over, trying to recall the man. She didn’t recognize him as one who had come through her shelter, or that she had done business with for the shelter, nor from her time in the 7th.

After an elongated, awkward silence, Miriam remembered proper social protocols. “O-oh. Uhm. Well. I mean, I’m just bringing these to a wagon just outside the city. At the hitching post. If you’re offering.. w-well, I won’t say no, sir but.. ahm.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry-- do I know you? I don’t mean to be rude, I’m sorry.  I just- I think my memory is beginning to go.”

@easternkingdomer​