Miron Lym'ir

" Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me What your sacrifice was for Empty chairs at empty tables Where my friends will sing no more "

[mironlymir]

I will get to my replies later into the night or tomorrow. Going to a game of thrones viewing party after I get off work. I think I only owe Iona and Breena so if I'm wrong message me a picture of dicks

[mironlymir]

the survivors | arian & miron (flashback)

Dirt was still beneath his nails. Dirt was beneath all of their nails.

From where the red-haired faun stood, the forest floor flourished with a colorful, celebration of flora that traced between the trees and over the newly added mounds. The send off, as any they’d ever done, was supposed to be a moment of festive remembrance and joy; a moment not to grieve the departed but to celebrate their memory.

But despite the pretty flowers and inviting colors, all of their arms were sore from the burden of living and spirits low when left with their own thoughts in the newly quieted forest. Beneath each mound and each flower were the remains of a memory, a smile, and lost potential. Blind love dug each grave and betrayal covered their cold bodies.

And to think Cern’s earth might have been feasting upon him right then had he not opened his eyes…

Said eyes flickered away from the dirt that remained trapped beneath his nails and in the direction of the Grove. Was it time to return home? It had been weeks since the elder fauns had returned their spirits to Cern, leaving him as the new eldest. He’d done his part, of course, directing the grieving remains of the community in holding their tears long enough to send their brothers and sisters off.

But once the last bit of soil was patted over the final grave, Miron ran and did not look back. He welcomed the quiet and solitude, using such an opportunity to grieve for the pointless deaths of their kind. But as hard he tried to come to terms with the Event, as it had branded in his mind, he could not get off anger.

And…anger was not their way… It was not Cern's way.

Sucking in a deep breath, the faun turned away from the Grove’s direction and began his trek back into the deeper coverings of forest. The solitude he sought, however, was interrupted when he came around a coupling of trees and found another grouping of graves. It would have been easier to pass by them or cast his eyes towards the leafy canopy above had Arian Sil’mer not been there.

His heart sank and more guilt bubbled to the surface.

“… You did beautifully, my friend,” He murmured softly between the two of them, eyeing one of the few graves in particular as he came to a stop behind the younger faun. 

[mironlymir]

a chilly morning | miron & eilina

[eilinathebeautiful]

It wasn’t that wings sprouted from her back, nor did light crown her each and every movement (although she at times thought herself adorned as such, much thanks to the much exaggerated praise she was given). But she had grown, collectively raised by the village, with love and favor. She had not known hardships. Upon rebirth, Eilina only garnered more attention and preference. What she wanted, someone brought to her, and that wasn’t to speak of the things she genuinely needed. She had been sheltered from the darkness of the world, because the delusion that beauty is goodness is a mighty one. Great hardship had been relatively unknown to her, so to see it in others was puzzling. She couldn’t imagine why everyone was not full of light at all times. With the one exception she never spoke of, she was a bright thing.

And, of course, her attention could have returned to herself at any moment. 

"Our course is decided, than." She nodded with exaggerated derisiveness. Her face was knitted in concentration as she rotated herself once more, turning the right way up and resting her chin on the back of her hands. "I shall have to think of an excellent one, for you. Having lived so long, what haven’t you seen or heard? Surely you watched the first night ever born, and know the stars that became Asena’s eyes by name. A riddle to stump the eldest faun…" As her words trailed off, so did the lids of her eyes slide closed. With the way she smiled, with both excitement and focus, it was as if she knew a secret, or something was flickering across the backs of those eyes. They flew open without warning.

"I’ve decided." She seemed to be gleaming as much entertainment from the telling the riddle as one was supposed to get from deciphering it. For all the bravado that was thrust before Eilina, little excited her more than words. "After you go through a fall, I will take over. All life will stall, or in the least, grow slower. What am I?" Her head canted to the side, profile now resting on one elbow as she watched with anticipation for recognition to cross Miron’s face.

[mironlymir]

Miron laughed at the mermaid’s poetic assumptions, but no other sound uttered forth to correct her. As far as the faun was aware, he was the oldest creature within the forest. But compared to the world and the forest surrounding him, he was only a child. There existed trees that had lived thousands of years, hidden in the deepest reaches of the forest; trunks wide and ringed with age. There existed flora planted by his elder’s elders that shriveled in the cold of winter and clung to life within the frozen soil, only to spring back up again with drops of sunlight.

And Miron, in his long existence within the forest, had never seen the shine of Asena’s eyes in person. Despite his love and admiration for things of beauty, it was questionable how appreciative he might be towards a wolf.

He let Eilina believe her romantic idea of what the ginger faun was with the hope of exploiting such faith later. War was the beat of his heart and even in his calm, jovial rests, its soft drumming remained as the backdrop of his motivations.

 He was not blind to potential and Eilina had not discouraged him.

Fingers tracing the water-worn stone they both lounged on, Miron looked out to the lazy ripples of the lake as he considered her riddle. After the few taps of his fingers to the silent beat in his chest, the answer because clear.

“Winter?” Miron suggested, a questioning inflection pulling the end of his answer away from prideful demand and towards a casual guess.  He knew he was correct and waited for only the smallest of confirmations to propose his own riddle. After all, the best types of games were played by two.

" In marble walls as white as milk, Lined with skin as soft as silk, In a fountain crystal clear, A golden treasure does appear. There are no doors to this stronghold, Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

What is it? "

[mironlymir]

Turn it Up | Event #1 Short-Para | Miron & Henry

[founding-rpg-deactivated2014110]

The cup of sweet smelling liquid (ale? Henry can’t tell by the smell alone) being shoved into his hand took him by surprise and Henry very nearly drops it. He didn’t, though some splattered onto his calloused hands.

"Ummm…" As a general rule Henry disliked personal questions, even rather generic ones like this. It felt intrusive, despite it not really being so. "Wenham." It’s all the information he felt like—and would—give on the matter and he sipped his drink to show that. It definitely was ale yet it was stronger than anything Henry ever had before. As a result he coughed, eyes stinging, and throat still burning.

[mironlymir]

"Wenham...?" Miron murmured with the furrow of his brows, trying to figure out where that was. The Black Forest had always been and will always be his home and he had never been interested in learning anything beyond it. He was familiar with every tree and could coax any of it's resident flora into life by hand and memory. 

But Wenham... That did not sound like a forest nor a pack...

The faun was about to ask about this unknown place when the man next to him fell into a fit of coughs from the ale alone. And in that moment, Miron knew what Wenham was and what the boy was. A wave of massively varying expressions pulled his face in every which way as he tried to figure out how to feel about this sudden revelation. His normal paranoia, which by this point had smothered his buzz, screamed for anger and clawed closer towards the resolve to bail in this conversation.

But... This was not a strange occurrence. Humans occasionally found their way into the grove during festivals and likewise found their way out by the end... If this was Cern's desire then he would not be the one to expel him...

"...That ale does not sit well with humans. It's far too strong," Miron murmured against his cup, whatever jovial kindness he'd expressed toward the boy disappearing.

[mironlymir]

Cern's awakening

[mironlymir]

Turn it Up | Event #1 Short-Para | Miron & Vilkas

[vilkasbyrd]

He watched the crowds around him, his skinwalker kin with their pelts drawn around them, the boarmen with their tattooed bodies illuminated by the glow of the fire, the mermaids who had managed to overcome the pain searing through their bodies to join the festivities.

And of course the fauns, with their elegant bodies and delicate antlers, looking for all the world on this evening like flowering branches with the flowers that prettied them so. The hosts of this celebration, and he had to give it to them, they invested into it everything they had, making it so that the oncoming of Spring would be set dead within your mind, the harshness of Winter now only memories.

So why did he feel so disconnected to it all? Why wasn’t he running off behind bushes and into shadows with a woman at his side like he’d observed other mischievous couples doing? Why didn’t he have ale in hand, getting as raucously drunk as all the rest of them? Maybe he just needed a catalyst to rile his spirits first, to get his mind off wondering what was the point of this all, as enjoyable as it usually was, when it seemed like nothing was going to act as a preventative to the forest’s decay?

In his silent musings he didn’t notice the faun approaching him from behind and… something was placed upon his head, confirmed to be a crown of flowers when he reached up a hand to feel it, petals slipping between his fingers. Milliseconds later he was met with a stare by a solemn looking faun, his red hair and boyish looks somehow making him seem even more so as he spoke with such serious tones.

Vilkas knew who he was. The de facto leader of fauns was a man often spoken about in the whispering words of the forest, and Vilkas had seen him before at prior celebrations, first indicated to by Cathair when he was no more than a pup.

"Miron Lym’ir," he said, the crescent on his cheek deepening his rather faint smile into something that would seem closer to a smirk. "I can assure you, it is not by my intention to mark the occasion so terribly."

His hand was brought back to his head once more, and he reflected on how ridiculous he must look, further impounded by two passing female fauns, their arms linked together as they giggled at the sight of him. Quickly he took the opportunity to take it off and instead reach out to one of them, pulling her to his side for just a moment so he could get it past he antlers and onto her head before he released her, the girl tittering at the slight roughness as she ran to catch up with her equally amused friend, both probably somewhat intoxicated

Turning back to Miron he shrugged, the glint that had been dulled beforehand now returning. 

"I think such gifts befit fauns and maidens before myself," he admitted, shaking his head before continuing. "So what about you? Have your spirits been sufficiently lifted through the celebration?"

It was an honest question, one he truly wondered- did the fauns really hold utter enjoyment in their hearts at their God’s festival? Or was their worry just so cleverly masqueraded, that it could hide even from themselves?

[mironlymir]

"It is not about my own spirits being lifted but those of Cern," Miron murmured as he watched the fauns stumble away, the season's ale carrying them to more welcome company. He paused to consider his own intoxication, especially upon realizing how easily the words rolled off his tongue. But with his age and the reasonable amount of ale that remained within his cupped cup, the buzz did little more than relax his shoulders.

"And rejection of festivities certainly does not lift my spirits, no matter your manly reasoning. If you will not wear Spring with pride then I urge you to eat, drink, and pretend to be merry. The last thing our lord Cern would wish to emerge towards is an unhappy, feral wolf."

Raising his cup slightly in mock salute, Miron smiled, making it near indiscernible whether or not his words held truth or levity.

[ruth-bassinger-deactivated20140]

A few arrows lost in adventure's sake! - Ruth & Miron

[ruth-bassinger-deactivated20140]

Ruth’s death grip on her arrow didn’t relent any upon coming face to face with the one who had followed her. A young man was facing her, short red hair and a splatter of freckles accross his features. One she had never seen before, she tipped her head to the side to better look at him, perhaps memories of a previous encounter would spring to mind. Ruth prided herself on her good memory and observation skills, she was not by far the most outgoing person but she remembered every one of the villagers even the ones she’d only ever bumped into or caught a glance of and this one, this one she had never laid eyes on before.

Her mind was running possible scenarios for the after, for what would they come once the two of them parted ways. The last thing she wanted was for the others to know of her interest for archery, she kept her bow and arrows hidden in the house and did as much when she went out to train, often favouring the late hours of the day to avoid such encounters. Questions would come once someone caught wind of what she was doing and Ruth loathed nothing more than having to justify herself, or be under scrutiny.

The boy stuttered out his response and for a brief second she felt something akin to sympathy for him as he sounded genuinely frightened, however that sentiment was soon overthrown by amusement. No one. He was no one? ” You cannot be no one, boy. Everyone has a name.” She lowered her bow, brushing her hair out of her face with her other hand, her chin raised up defiantly. “I don’t need your help or your protection. I can handle myself just fine. Girl or not.”

[mironlymir]

Through the crawling hatred for her kind and the nervousness birthed through pointed arrows, Miron found himself charmed by her simple assertion. 'You cannot be no one-- Everyone has a name.' It was a poetic thought and probably had a much more eloquent phrasing than what he'd just heard; but  it was an enlightening observation. Even in all his years within the Black Forest, Miron had yet to meet a rock, tree, or creature that did not bear a name.

He looked forward to the day in which he did meet 'no one'.

But what to tell her? He doubted the names of the forest godlings meant anything to the humans of the village, and doubly doubted his name might exist within it's whispers, but was it safe? With his desires and goals, did he want even a girl to know his name?

No definitely not...

"P-Petyr," He lied as a timid, nervous smile pulled across his face, relieved to see the bow drop to her side. If only she'd holster the arrow as well... 

"I was not offering help... I just... You don't look like a hunter and you won't catch much here. There aren't any burrows around this area and the birds nest closer to the river. Why hunt here?"

[ktbear860]

[mironlymir]

a chilly morning | alric & miron

[alric-lighteye]

Alric glanced over to his company as he laughed, silently watching the faun rub his neck in a rather sheepish manner. Temporarily forgetting the mermaids lying several yards away, Alric focused on what the elder faun was saying. Polluted dreams - now that was certainly something Alric could relate to. He studied the faun’s features, wondering what he had dreamed. What he had seen.

"The dreams and forests are not all that is being polluted," Alric said quietly, noticing the agitated shift that the faun had taken. "Truly? None have noticed?" It seemed strange to Alric, how blind some of the other godly creatures were. Despite their roots in the gods, they never could see what was laid out plainly before them. "Much as our young," Alric mused, thinking of the foundlings that did little more than try to learn their skills and play with each other. "Even some of the older pack members are like that." Alric couldn’t stand the ignorance. He was grateful for Amira, for her belief. If the pack had an ignorant Alpha as well - Alric did not wish to think on it.

"The humans, what else?" Alric mused with a shake of his head. He absently crossed his arms, dropping his gaze and focusing on the tufts of fur peeking over his shoulders from his warm pelt. "They’re growing bold, and the pack isn’t taking kindly to it." Nor would they ever. The wolves never seemed to hold much regard for the humans with their stubby nails and their scripture. They were just as the Siklas were - forever stuck with a useless body. At least, that was how many of the pack members saw it. While Alric would always choose the wolves, he tried to be a bit more objective - after all, the Siklas were still a part of the pack, even in their misfortune. "And you? What troubles you awake late at night, Miron?"

[mironlymir]

In that moment, as Alric spoke, Miron appreciated his company immensely. After facing such opposition from the faun community concerning his beliefs and the paths they should take, it was refreshing to hear that he was not alone in his worries; That they were not unfounded and irrational. It was difficult to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his freckled face, certain how inappropriate it might appear when conversation was heading to such a dark location. Instead he only nodded solemnly to Alric's words, brows knitting in worry and lips pulling into a thin line, understanding the frustration more than anyone.

"The young become more and more ignorant,  yes," He sighed, his hand guiding up to his lip and brushing his knuckles against them absently. "They were so young when their family returned to Cern and have yet to understand how terrible an event it was. It sounds poetic and heroic to their ears to hear of so many of our kind falling into an eternal slumber.... but they do not grasp how little effect it has had on our god. How pointless their deaths were...."

Shaking his head, Miron sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and ignored the boiling, liquid anger that flowed in his veins. Through all of his struggles, he had to remember that the fauns could not become an enemy of his. His desire to drive the humans out of the forest originated through the motivation in restoring the faun community to it's previous greatness.  

But what was the point if they were not willing to save themselves?

"The same that worries your pack, Alric. Every day that passes is another day without Cern's presence and another day closer to the extinction of my race. Humanity has forsaken it's most peaceful god.... It will not be long until your goddess and the rest feel such pain."

[mironlymir]

Turn it Up | Event #1 Short-Para | Miron & Henry

[founding-rpg-deactivated2014110]

Strange oddity? The man next to him had antlers on his head and the people around them were cooking outside like uncivilized people all because the seasons were changing just as they always did yet Henry is the oddity.

Naturally.

Unable to think up any other type of response, Henry merely nodded before glancing back down at the flower crown in his hands. It was beautifully made, and Henry could always appreciate fine craftsmanship. He had wandered out here in hopes of finding a quiet place that wasn’t riddled with confusing festivities but now that appeared to not be the case, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The food smelled delicious, so as long as he received some of that he wouldn’t mind staying. But then again it felt a bit wrong to take part in something like this when he didn’t give two damns about the reason behind it.

A bit awkwardly, he attempted to hand the crown back to the man. “It looks better on you.” Henry hadn’t actually seen him wearing it, so he can’t say for sure, but he suspected it was true; the crown went well with the rest of his…err….getup.

[mironlymir]

Miron wasn't sure hot to react to the rejected crown, fidgeting with it in his hands as silence settled between the two. He knew that other creatures of his gender held often ridiculous reluctance towards femininity, but it wasn't often they outwardly rejected gifts, especially from the faun.

Troubled by the boy's empty hands and worried of the repercussions this might have on the spirit of the festival, Miron turned away momentarily and caught the arm of a passing faun. After a moment of quiet discussion, a trade was made. Turning back from the now crowned faun, he thrust a cup of amber ale into the boy's hands.

"Where are you from that you are unfamiliar with our customs?" Miron asked before the cup could be rejected and took back up his own.

[mironlymir]

ashes to ashes | miron / angry, grieving char playlist

i. Bartholomew  The Silent Comedy / ii. I Would Die For You Matt Walters / iii. Bottom of the River Delta Rae / iv. If I Had A Heart Fever Ray / v. Barton Hallow The Civil War / vi. Beat The Devil’s Tattoo Black Rebel Motorcycle Club / vii. Don’t Wanna Go The Lumineers / viii. Follow You Down to the Red Oak Tree Third Star / ix. No Bravery James Blunt / x. Believer Viva Voce / xi. My Name Charlie Winston

listen

[beverlycrushr]

[mironlymir]

Eddie Redmayne in The Pillars of the Earth - Episode Seven

[ruth-bassinger-deactivated20140]

A few arrows lost in adventure's sake! - Ruth & Miron

Ruth had gotten up early this morning, one of the first mornings of spring. Dawn had such a lovely air to it once spring came around, something about the smell of pollen in the air and the way the sun seemed to shine brighter as if in greeting made it all the more easier to get out of bed, even if it was for work. But work was not a word Ruth Bassinger had ever used or would ever use to describe taking care of her goats, from feeding to bathing the animals, she did it all with a brilliant smile upon her lips and often could be heard singing a song of her invention.

However today the blonde had hurriedly taken care of the tasks she had set for herself and made way as discreetly as she could towards the woods, or well as discreetly as was possible with a bow and arrows shoven in a sack. Black forrest had never been a place she favoured or frequented much but after Tessa’s disappearance the necessity to learn to defend herself became clear, the villagers could whisper all they wanted about what they called an incident but Ruth knew better than to trust only she could see. There was more to her friend’s disappearance than it appeared, the creatures were behind it, she couldn’t seem to shake that belief.

Learning archery had proven surprisingly easy a task since as a girl she’d spend more time watchind the older boys then with girls her own age. The bow was a fairly instinctual weapon in her opinion and once she started training she was intensely focused. Today’s exercise was moving targets, she’d try her hand at it a few times before but hadn’t progressed as much as she hoped. She stood hidden behind a bush bow in one hand and the other reaching for an arrow when she heard the sound of footsteps to her right. Aiming the arrow at the stranger that remained unseen, covered by shadows, she called out “Who are you? What do you want?” all the while willing her hand to stop trembling.

[mironlymir]

At the beginning, the faun did not intend on following a random human girl through the forest. On any other day, he would have instead preferred to stay as far away from any human as physically possible. Their scents nauseated him and the danger they presented was both unique and terrible.

His original intentions were simply to wander as close as he dared to the human village and look for signs of their sacrilege towards the forest and it's gods. Since his run-in with the skinwalker Iona and the undeniable signs that the human hunters were venturing outside of their territory, Miron suffered suspicion after suspicion, which in turn led him to where he was currently hiding. 

He'd found nothing, of course, besides of the casual broken branches from treading feet and the hanging smell of humankind, but that changed when he saw the girl heading into the forest with bow in hand. Upon noticing that she was heading away from the human hunting territory, the faun followed behind, curious towards what she intended to do. 

His curiosity, however, undermined how carefully he walked behind her and he soon found himself at the mercy of an arrow's tip. Glamouring away his horns with quick, practiced ease, he stepped from the shadows as a human boy instead of ancient faun, hands rising in defense.

"I-I am no one," He falsely stuttered, his fear masking the irritating prickles of anger in his stomach. "I wanted t-to make sure you were alright. It isn't safe to travel into the forest alone, especially for a ...a girl."

[mironlymir]

a chilly morning | miron + clover

[clover-esmeer]

Although Miron truly flattered the fauness, it was definitely not her favorite side of the leader of the fauns. Clover much preferred the times when the elder faun was passionate yet angry; his hatred towards the humans was one of his most appealing traits. “Dear Miron, you are far too kind,” she let out a small laugh, his play with words only served to flatter the fauness some more.

She knew that every word he spoke, no matter if they were just proper manners, was a truth known by the fauns and most of the forest. Only one mermaid dared questioned the seemingly well-established fact of Clover’s beauty. Not only did it offend Clover, but also the God Cern whose beauty hers are based off of. Even her figurative throne was questionable itself. Clover did have a far more exquisite taste than a former villager would ever have. Her clothes were not second-hand like most of the mermaids, but straight from a masterful hand such as her own.

Her craftsmanship was often shown in her adornments, including her newly made flower crown. She knew that it was a thing of beauty and was in no way surprised by Miron’s wonderment. It was true that Clover would sacrifice a few flowers for the greater good of looking nice. Even with the fauns’ connection with nature, Clover was still apathetic to anyone other than herself.

Her lips turned into a playful pout as she rubbed Miron’s hand against her own, reveling in the softness of his skin. “That is true, but I believe that the lives of the marvelous roses were well spent. You say that the beauty of my crown is envious, and indeed it is. Wouldn’t you agree that their sacrifice was not in vain?” She smiled vivaciously at the freckle faced faun, “I can make you one if you’ll like? I promise it would be a real treat.” 

[mironlymir]

The red-haired faun mirrored her smile as his eyes returned from the crown to her face. "I do not doubt your craft but perhaps for the coming festival. If you are to make one for me, when best to wear it but to honor Cern? He may even return by envy alone," He jested softly, cheek dimpling as his smile widened. 

He did not doubt that the crown she wore now was masterful and gorgeous, but he wasn't sure if he entirely agreed with her. Clover was beautiful without such adornments and it did somewhat saddened him that the flowers would not preserve as long as if they were plucked in their prime.

But the fauns were given their gifts by Cern himself and the freedom to divine what the purpose such gifts be. If a rose was to be bloomed and weaved into a crown for Clover, it was an honorable, short life.

"Perhaps in the mean time you would be willing to use your touch on the grove? The festival is fast approaching and we have barely begun to prepare. I'm certain with your craft and eye for beauty you would make the grove the envy of the forest."

[mironlymir]

a chilly morning | miron & eilina

[eilinathebeautiful]

His laughter might have easily been taken as an assault, each pitch of his spirited laughter a barb to her flesh, if he had not continued on to soothe the almost-wound with his answer. I am not one to be taken by an idea alone. As both the judge and the jury, Eilina decided this to be fair; one who could be enraptured by every rumor or description that passed through his ears would surely meet an early demise. Miron’s capable tongue brought a true grin, her large but ravenous heart filled up for the morning and fueling a puerile shine that came from her bones and set her alight. Perhaps he had cleverly danced around the question, without answering how he found Eilina to be after knowing her true form. But the leaking orifice within the mermaid was sated, having selected the words it choose to hear and diving their own meaning. 

"Then how fortunate it is for us both that the Gods should have brought us together this morn." Perhaps inspired by superficiality had her joy begun, but she was glad for the faun’s presence with a childish purity. In many aspects she remained a child; one that had not been forced to emerge from the soft cocoon of sentimentality, kept warm by favor and love. Of course, this could inspire both the artless luminosity that kept a soul warm, and juvenile attitudes that arose without warning. Regardless, he had proven an excellent companion for her lethargic early morning. "For now you know the truth, and I can lay claim to knowing the joy of your solitary attention." The flirtatious tone that she had begun using and perfected even before her time as a mermaid intermixed with gaiety.

The intention to seduce the faun had yet to fully cross her mind, as Eilina found herself genuinely pleased with their current interaction. But it was in the very nature of a mermaid to play the coquette, having been gifted very literally looks that could kill. 

She listened to him with her full attention - a thing rare in its appearance - and laughed as he spoke of decorative assault, the sound silvery as a birdsong. “Yes, I can only imagine. What a dreadful death that must be, to be weighed down by natural frills and adornments.” She teased, the jest clear in her voice. “I confess to knowing no such burden — though I make my home in the water, I have found no accumulation of trinkets to have weighed me down as of yet.” It was the truth. With perhaps one of the greatest collections of jewelry and trinkets among any of her sisters, Eilina often bedecked herself in a multitude of shiny objects for a day’s accessories. “I shall clap with glee at the next of your festivals, should I find you festooned with a wreath of flowers. Or perhaps attempt to force another around your neck.” A hand reached up to flick idly at his chin. Physical touch was something she bestowed liberally, and with little thought - what reason was there to contemplate it, when she had heard no complaints heretofore?

Although her own exuberance nearly prevented her from seeing it, Eilina detected the fall in his own verve. Displeased with her partner’s sudden influx of negative emotion, she seemed to absorb this through osmosis and felt herself frowning. “Surely the coldness will melt soon.” It was an attempt at comfort, although a halting one at that. She knew little of how the fauns aided the environment, but knew of their great sacrifice which had been made in hopes to save the dying Cern. Still retaining her upside down position, her hands ran over the lines where her smooth skin turned into the scale of her tail repeatedly, distracted by thought. While not particularly close to any, she had shed tears for the sacrifice (while in solitude), and felt sympathy for the remaining few. “It will pass, as all winters do, as is the nature of our world. I do not doubt your people’s capabilities.” 

She remained silent a moment after his reveal, finding the answer to be slightly melancholy. “Then it appears it has become my indisputable duty to keep your thoughts from so dark a place!” This revelation was met with another of her smiles, unfailing bright despite the sun’s sporadic appearance. “I shall be the light that chases away the twilight of the mind; should any dark imps dare to remain, I shall bare my teeth and frighten them off. For as you said, I am a thing to be terrified of.” Her grin fell to a closed-lip expression, but it was perhaps more compassionate than amused. “Would you have a song, dear faun, as my sisters and I are known for? A kiss, or a riddle? What you desire, I shall grant.”

[mironlymir]

“Yes. Bless the Gods.”

Miron could still feel her touch to his chin long after she’d pulled her hand back. But it was no tingle that might push him towards impulsion or desire, having no need for such pleasantries at the moment. The mermaid’s company was sating enough to his tired, old soul.

As Eilina comforted him, to Miron’s surprise, his eyes travelled her face in silent curiosity. For a mermaid who displayed terrible vanity and self-interest to express such outward good will and care was odd for the faun. The faun community, despite getting on well with most of the godly creatures within the Black Forest, had their own deeply ingrained opinions of what the mermaids were like and a lot of it wasn’t particularly kind to the aquatic race. To have a mermaid, who had no due reason to treat him with such kindness, do so... was … flattering.

“…Thank you. We are already preparing for the greeting of spring and it is a welcome distraction to the hanging cold. Perhaps when the week is through so too will the winter chills,” He hummed, offering her smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes. “Should you attend our gathering I can guarantee you will witness my floral crowning personally.”

Her offer coaxed a soft chuckle and a rising hand to his sunkissed neck. Flustered and further flattered, Miron looked away from her and to the water as he rubbed it, cheeks flushing pink. “Perhaps a riddle might continue this lazy morning. Should we meet again and I win your favor for a second time, I will take up your offer of a kiss.”

[interviewpilledvampirecel]

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kingdom dance // alan menken

[mironlymir]

Turn it Up | Event #1 Short-Para | Miron & Henry

[founding-rpg-deactivated2014110]

Henry had hoped that by heading a bit into the woods, he’d get away from all of the festivities in the village. He had no idea what they were even for and therefore it felt wrong for him to enjoy it. Braemer, Henry was coming to realize, was a lot different than Wenham.

However as it turned out, he was completely wrong. If anything the merriment was even greater out here than it was in town! There was singing, dancing, and people wearing the most ridiculous, if, he had to admit, festive, looking costumes (the antlers reminded him of…something though he couldn’t quite place what). He frowned, thinking there was probably no place around here where he could get some peace. It was even more annoying that he didn’t know what any of it was about. When he asked one of the villagers, all they had said was that Cern was returning. Considering how Henry had no idea who Cern was, that only worked to confuse him even more.

He was so busy concentrating on what he ought to do next, that when he felt something bump onto his head and hear someone next to him, Henry jumped, glancing over at the person with a surprised expression. Then he raised an eyebrow—sounds like you ought to do that too—before running a hand over his head to see what this serious sounding person put on him. He took it off and looked; a crown made out of flowers. How…girly. Once more he glanced over at the person who was still staring at him as if personally insulted by Henry’s demeanor despite it not being any of his concern or business. 

"I don’t even know what’s so special about tonight," he muttered before shaking his head. That was probably more than a little insulting wasn’t it? "I…didn’t grow up around here." His fingers fiddled with the crown in his hands.

[mironlymir]

The ginger faun stared at the man beside him, confusion flickering across his face with the light of the bonfire. He'd never crossed another creature who was ignorant to the spring festival and had never been put into the position of having to explain it. Of course, there were the rare foundlings who were ignorant towards the customs of other gods outside of Asena but it was usually up to their guardian to educate them.

All around them the smells of the four types of godlings mingled with the burning, crackling smoke of the fire. Meats and roots roasted over the flames and the perfume of spring flowers sweetened their savory scent. Whatever this boy was, his scent was lost among the fervor and Miron was not inclined to ask.

"Did not grow up around here? Hm... Strange," Miron said as he raised his ale to his lips and turned his skeptical gaze to the fire. "In all my years I've never met an outsider, nor heard of such an oddity. Regardless, this is a celebration of the god Cern and the emergence of spring from Isonade's cold winter. A time of merriment and new beginnings, if you will."