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@naerwyn
So this blog is essentially dead, because Tumblr got dead. But now with the deadening of Twitter, maybe Tumblr will become somewhat undead.
*Insert Forsaken joke here*
I’m considering just making this a bit of a catch-all general writing type thing, I don’t even know. Finding RP is perpetually and forever difficult on every forum. But I’d love a way to challenge myself with little prompts, drabbles, whatevers, and hopefully re-connect with some people.
At the height of the Midsummer festivities, the Sin'dorei gather to release lanterns by Stillwhisper pond. The lanterns are symbolic; not only honouring the flame of Midsummer, but also casting the hopes and dreams of the individual who releases the lantern aloft on the winds of fate.
Some Sin'dorei choose instead to release an emotional burden along with their lantern. They believe that the phoenix rises from the ashes, and so their troubles will be consumed by the cleansing flame and they will be blessed with good fortune for the year to come.
At the height of the Midsummer festivities, the Sin'dorei gather to release lanterns by Stillwhisper pond. The lanterns are symbolic; not only honouring the flame of Midsummer, but also casting the hopes and dreams of the individual who releases the lantern aloft on the winds of fate.
Some Sin'dorei choose instead to release an emotional burden along with their lantern. They believe that the phoenix rises from the ashes, and so their troubles will be consumed by the cleansing flame and they will be blessed with good fortune for the year to come.
« commission info, ToS, current work queue
A portrait of Naerwyn Sunsorrow by meocraft.
This lovely Paladin belongs to one of my favorite writers on Tumblr. As kind as she is beautiful, Naerwyn is a character I cannot read enough about. MOAR WRITES PLEASE!
naerwyn <3
I...
Hnnngh. Thank you so much Talandriel! I am not worthy of such gifts or compliments. You are such a sweetheart. Again, thank you so much!
I apologize for my small bit of absences on tumblr. This is the hardest time of year for me and it’s been a struggle trying to fight through my art-writing-and-everything creative block. So, I went ahead and did more practice headshot sketches like the last time. Hopefully more on the way if I keep forcing myself.
The victims this round are: blackestfire, halayn, thaeliskaeldorin, talandriel (not her character, but Tellaria doesn’t have a tumblr sob), naerwyn, tarcanusfrostbourne, and lyrinelmorningflame! I hope you guys like them!
Happy Winter Veil. <3
ASDFJK;LA;KLADFJW
Thank you so much! Surprise pretties are surprising and pretty! Look at my gooberdin. Augh, love you eriene~~
Herbalism.
Naerwyn had never had two coppers to call her own before.
They clinked softly against each other in the confines of her hand, chattering in their metallic language about what kind of candy they were going to be spent on. Soft caramels! Jingled one, certain that their worth would be exchanged for a hefty number of the delicious treats. The other was sure it would be hard toffees but said nothing; simply enjoying being out of the crumby, lint-riddled corners of the pockets it had been trapped in.
The girl had come into such riches innocently enough; or so it seemed. The man had come earlier than usual to her mothers’ room, door thrust open in a flourish and a whirl of robes. He had been all smiles and wiles until he glimpsed Naerwyn, who clutched at her mother under the weight of his sudden scowl.
Go, he said, having fished the two coins from his pocket and tossed them at her feet. Occupy yourself for a time. He had not wasted another moment while the child scrabbled for the coins, grasping Vierlyse by the upper arm and hurrying her to the bed. Naerwyn had been long since taught to avert her eyes in the presence of such men, and hastened to collect her ‘prize’ and be gone from sight.
But it was not the sweets store that she sought, perhaps to the chagrin of the coppers she so tightly held.
The scent that greeted her when she opened the door was earthy and warm. A tabby cat, perched on the windowsill, paused in its paw licking to turn imperious eyes on the girl as she hurried over to the newly planted pots; lovingly running the young tendrils and fronds through her fingers.
“Ahhh, back again are we?”
Naerwyn ducked sheepishly; retracting her hand from the plants as the elderly shopkeeper approached and offered her shoulder the weight of a gentle hand.
“They have been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?!” Naerwyn replied, incredulous. “How do you know?”
“I know many things.” The herbalist replied, adept at keeping the humour out of his tone despite the smile lurking behind it. “Besides. They told me so.”
“No they didn’t!” She shot back, stifling a giggle. “Plants can’t talk!”
“Oh, but they can. And they will tell you all sorts of things, if you know how to listen.”
“Really?” The girl breathed in wonder. The man couldn’t help but smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reached out to touch one of the verdant leaves.
“Mmhmm.”
“Will you teach me, Mister Everbloom?! Please?? I even have money, look!” She thrust her open palm up at him and the man chuckled.
“I tell you what. How about you keep these for now,” he said, curling her fingers back over the coins. “And you come by every afternoon. I’ll teach you how to look after these plants here since they seem to like you so much, and maybe, if you treat them right, they’ll let you in on their secrets.”
Naerwyn looked at her closed fingers, looked at the plants, and then suddenly threw herself at the man, arms going about his waist.
“Thank you, Mister Everbloom!”
Light manifests first in the heart.
(via pinxiedust)
Prompt - You've received a package. You don't know who it's from or what it is, but something's in there because it's moving. You open it and you're shocked at what it is.
Frostfire Ridge vexed Naerwyn terribly.
Though Northrend was quite literally a world away, it was more than the biting cold of the Draenic subcontinent that made the paladin shiver. Her imagination had easily gotten the better of her – or perhaps the wind really was whispering secrets long dormant into her shapely ears. Half glimpses of skeletal, ghoulish fingers plagued her peripheral vision; as though they had lain in wait for her to step onto the tundra once again so that they might reach out from beyond shadowy recesses in search of hem or cloak, and the flesh beneath.
Her resolve quickly unspooling, Naerwyn was driven indoors. Ignorant to quirked eyebrows and quiet utterances, her tremulous hands sought refuge around a heavy mug of warm, spiced rum. Here seemed as good a place as any to lapse into old habits, she reasoned, given the circumstances.
Ahem. “Uh, Commander…?” The Tauren shifted uneasily, a box tucked under his arm.
Naerwyn really didn’t know how she felt about being called Commander. It was one thing to be called ‘Champion’ (though these days she didn’t know how she felt about being addressed as that either), but Commander was another entirely. It involved being responsible for other people, when, personally, she didn’t really think she was capable of being responsible for herself half the time.
Olin waited a polite wait before continuing on. “This arrived for you. I took the liberty of bringing it out of the snow, since it, er… Well, it appears to be moving.”
Moving?!
The Tauren gently set the box on the table beside Naerwyn before respectfully retreating. The blonde eyed the slightly sodden cardboard with a wary eye for some moments, pondering on what the contents could be – when a soft rustling sound emitted from within. It didn’t seem insidious, and her curiosity drew her to unfold the cardboard flaps.
Nestled within the box was a small, plush Elekk toy. Naerwyn quirked an eyebrow, struck by a number of questions at once. Who? What? Why?
Then it lifted its trunk, startling her, and prompting yet another question. How?!
Gently lifting the critter out of the box, Naerwyn set it on her lap. It seemed almost sentient, the way it snuffled at her and wriggled about – but it must have been animated through some kind of magic. It was absolutely, one hundred percent made of cloth. And it was soft.
Naerwyn gave the Elekk a little squeeze in her arms, and it squeaked.
It made her feel a little better.
Finally, she said: “I’m lonely” — it’s weird but you tell the wolves things, sometimes. You can’t help it, all these old wounds come open and suddenly you’re confessing to a wolf who never says anything back.
Catherynne M. Valente, from “The Wolves of Brooklyn,” The Bread We Eat in Dreams (via thenatureofsin)
I saw her in my minds’ eye
In the shadow of a shadow’s shadow
But when she turned to me
I found her breath was mine
Her skin fair
Locks kissed by the sun
A mirror image
That bore the mirth of life ‘pon her lips
And when she spoke
Her words resounded as bells would do
“It was, it has, it is, and will be.”
Then she turned off her smile, and put it away
To leave me wandering, wondering
In darkness once more
Genesis.
( Cut for length, I’m sorry! TW: Drug use )
Naerwyn kicked her legs idly, backs of her knees bouncing off the overly plush comforter. Everything about this room was nice, she thought, though it was more than nice. In actual fact the room was in no uncertain terms, grandiose.
Furs stretched out from beneath the four posted bed, the pelt so thick that the girl had been overcome with a fit of the giggles when the soft thickness of it swallowed her toes. Burgundy and scarlet hues dominated the walls, the dramatic effect only ever so slightly softened by the golden filigree adorning the cornices. The enchanted orbs of light that were usually tucked discreetly out of view were now gathered about the vanity, where Naerwyn’s mother sat inspecting her own drawn face.
The golden-haired child was utterly oblivious to what arcane withdrawal actually meant, continuing to kick her legs and gaze idly about the opulent bedroom while Vierlyse pulled resentfully at the sallow, grey skin beneath her sunken eyes. Dry, cracked lips pulled back over ghastly teeth in an echo of what once must have been a beautiful smile.
“Momma,” came the sing-song chirp of a young Naerwyn filled with wonderment. “Anaiah wants to know why don’t we stay here all the time?”
“Hush.”
The word was as ugly as the mouth that spat it out, and Vierlyse did not grace her daughter with a backwards glance. Her reverie apparently broken, the waifish woman set about opening jars and phials; making the room industriously musical for some moments.
Cupping her hand conspiratorially over her mouth, Naerwyn leaned over and whispered into the ear of a very ragged looking doll. Vierlyse paid her no mind, fingers flying in and out of the open cosmetics spread across the vanity, seeking to undo the ravages of her addiction. Somewhere within the belly of the house, a grandfather clock tolled nine.
“Momma—“
“I said hush!”
Naerwyn ceased the swinging of her legs; eyes going wide as the chimera rounded on her. She clutched Anaiah tightly to her chest as Vierlyse returned her attention to the mirror. The girl knew what came next; she wanted to beg her momma not to, just this once. But the words never came.
Vierlyse produced the small silver locket from beneath her elegant gown, her bony fingers making short work of the clasp. Naerwyn buried her face into Anaiah’s straggly woollen hair, squeezing her eyes shut with a child’s irrational logic that it would somehow silence the sound that was Vierlyse inhaling the fine powder of arcane dust contained within the locket.
The silence that ensued was claustrophobic, and the girl did not open her eyes.
The transformation was complete.
“Naerwyn~” Vierlyse trilled, suddenly all smiles and fluttery laughter. “Naerwyn, sweetling, it’s time for you to go out and play!”
The girl peeked up through strands of yellow hair. “But it’s dark out,” She replied, squeezing the doll tighter. “I don’t like the dark…” She whispered to Anaiah, who knew this fact well but could not offer any reassurance just now.
Vierlyse did not seem to hear her. “Come along, time to go and find some of those flowers you love!” The woman’s spindly fingers found the flesh of Naerwyn’s upper arm, drawing her to her reluctant feet.
“But first, what do I want to hear?” Vierlyse cooed, bending at the waist and cupping her free hand around her ear for effect.
“You look beautiful, Miss Vierlyse.” Naerwyn recited dutifully, for Momma stopped being Momma after the locket came out of hiding. The false compliment earned the girl a false laugh, before a knock came at the door and she was quickly ushered through the servants’ entrance and into the night.
Shadows loomed over her, and Naerwyn huddled down by the granite wall. She hugged her legs to her chest to keep Anaiah safe, tightly squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t know it yet, but the one day would-be paladin’s visceral fear of the darkness would teach her how to call for the Light. As she trembled, vehemently wishing the shadows would go away, the blue child reached out with gentle, reassuring fingers to brush soft moonlight across her lonely, tear-stained cheek.
Writing exercise thing:
Pick five of your characters, it doesn’t matter if they’re all from the same story or anything, just five characters that you write.
Naerwyn, Jasolei, Ollie, Sen'jali aaaaannd... Sabrielle? idk.
14. make up a new oc right now based on VIOLET (color)!
The gobliness is only four-foot-two in good heels, and that fact pisses her right off. Constantly looked down upon, she has employed her vibrantly violet hair to enhance her stature. Sprouting out of the back of the crown of her head, the impressively solid pigtails add at least half a foot to her height and not a single, solitary strand of hair is out of place. It's best not to ask how she came to possess this kind of industrial strength hairspray.
For someone who is so often overlooked, Quarki overlooks nothing. Everything and everyone is meticulously analysed, and even while she sits and seems to mind her own business; meticulously filing the nails that match the colour of her hair exactly, she knows you're looking at her.
"Ya could take a picture, toots, it'd last a helluva lot longer. Course it ain't free - time is money an' all that, yeah?"
( dragondreamerart )
Sexy Santa Naerwyn. And I quote, “Wait, what?”
I plan to give people tim tams and they repay me by drawing my character in a costume that she would literally die of embarrassment wearing.
This is friendship?
(Seriously though I love this omg thank)
♗:Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap.
The muted sound of plated footsteps against parched ground preceded Halayn long before he stepped inside the makeshift infirmary. The Blasted Lands took their toll on the once shining knight, who, on cursory inspection, looked as if he’d been rolling around in the dusty, red earth for hours. One ruffling sweep of hand through his fair hair set a cloud of the stuff wafting through the air like a puff of red smoke, and while this sorry state of hair might have been disconcerting in normal circumstances, at present, Halayn was too damn tired to care.
Naerwyn Sunsorrow, a battle-medic not unlike Halayn, had seated herself in a quiet corner of the infirmary while the wounded slept and gave her a much needed reprieve. She became a familiar face in the short time Halayn had come to aid in the fight against the Iron Horde, and in all of that time, he had thought her much more tolerant of him than some of her peers. It was this small comfort that erased any concern he had before he walked to her corner, dropped to the ground with a noisy clatter of plate, and laid his head in her lap. Two slow blinks of his half-lidded eyes and he was already drifting to sleep.
GODDAMMIT eriene!!! YOU COULD HAVE CHANGED IT BACK!!
These are the gems that you people miss when you're sleeping.
