THROUGH THE WOOD IN POPPYVALE . . . } an independent and private multimuse blog featuring characters from literature, television, film, celtic mythology, and original lore * cursed by corazón she/they, 21+, est. ━ { affiliated with @rosenvale
¹· carrd / ²· pinterest / ³· memes / ⁴· promo
BY THE LAKESIDE: ronan lynch, moon dong-eun, eimile o'dienne, psyche, felicia hardy
A GLIMPSE INTO — faustian bargains, self-proclaimed justice, accidental magic, crisis of faith, the melancholy of metamorphosis, fantasy as fable & brutality masked by beauty . . .
{ * where am i? ¹· zoya nazyalenskaya ²· buffy summers }
MOBILE MUSELIST }
✳ primary
edith cushing - crimson peak
cardan greenbriar - the folk of the air
midna - the legend of zelda: twilight princess
harrowhark nonagesimus - the locked tomb
galaxy stern - ninth house
eimile o'dienne - original character
kaede miyagawa - original character
ronan lynch - the raven cycle
✳ secondary
delilah bard - shades of magic series
renee walker - all for the game
richard campbell gansey iii - the raven cycle
benicia "buffy" summers - buffy the vampire slayer { * moved to @slaychose
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
gonna be packing up and moving this blog so i can properly join my wife @rosenvale but i know i just reblogged lots of memes so i will be carrying those over to the new blog rest-assured <3
her words were not quite the mockery he might have once credited to her. perhaps it was deserved, too; she was exceptional in her deft work, as slippery as the residents of kerch believed themselves to be. a lonesome thief out on the run with few to challenge her ghost trail. now, he deduces there is more to it than simple thrill. this was the voice of someone challenging him intentionally. ‘‘ would there have been a point in leaving it behind, if you weren't sure i could? ’’ he said, without tone. ‘‘ you do not strike me as lenient with your trail, or careless. ’’ from the shadows he was a vague outline of a man; hooded above a mess of dark and silver hair, a covered mouth below a set of stainless steel eyes. objectively, he was a pale ghost where she was burning in colour behind her vulpine mask.
in a sing-song of silent footfalls, zachariah stands opposite in this cross-fire of careful words between fateful strangers. ‘‘ i wonder what crime you expect a nameless shade to arrest you for. the break-ins, the changing faces, or the emeralds between your fingers? ’’
between them stretched only a glimpse of her craft, all that he has spent months tracking. yet here he stands not as an assassin or spy, but the shadow of a lost name — alive only in fragments, such as the jewels currently in her possession. ‘‘ none persuasive enough for the fox to run, it seems. ’’ his recognition was imminent, yet he appeared unmoved. zachariah stepped closer. ‘‘ that emerald. have you arranged the same fate for it as the last one? ’’
here, he reaches into his pocket; from it he withdraws a near identical piece thieved from the upper echelon of ketterdam it had been sold to, part of a set that had once belonged to noble shu. yet, tried and tested, he and found it was a forgery, a clever and believable deception in his hand as he tossed it her way.
NO ONE HERE WEARS THEIR TRUE FACE, KETTERDAM WAS NOTHING WITHOUT ITS DEBAUCHED MASQUERADE. strange that nobility seemed to make a mockery of their own criminal intent donning their disguises on a night meant for charity ( what a pair amongst the fray we make! ) twin moons; one for harvest and one for the winter. he eclipses his own face with the shade of a hood and she is not offended by this show of a shield. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE, A FACE CAN ONLY GET YOU SO FAR. but his was skewed and hers unreadable. ❛ or perhaps i am simply very sure of my own cleverness! i do believe i have found some formidable competition. ❜ not a note of bitterness to be found in the fox's hum of intrigue. usually charming her adversaries came a few steps before revealing her true intent but with her hands clasped around jewels... it was undeniable what she was here for.
❛ you don't have to be so unkind to yourself ━ i'm sure you have a lovely name. ❜ nothing is revealed past the golden glimmer of her painted mask. in heavy shade there is but a flame, the flicker of irises that kept all their color even in the absence of light.
the timing is near-fated as she dislodges the gem from its clock face holding all while keeping the whole of the mechanism intact. a hand is freed from its machinations and there she catches the perfected forgery. ❛ ah, so you noticed that too. ❜ it was a stunning replica, but it was far more structurally sound than a real emerald. ❛ it's a rather neat trick, don't you think so? ❜ the false stone is placed at the point of extraction; it could serve its purpose one last time.
❛ i could tell you, but if you aren't here to apprehend me then... what reason would i have for that? ❜ she does not fall from her perch so much as she dismounts from the suspensions, cutting all her cables loose. landing with an eerie soundlessness upon polished floors. the dancing glow of the festivities beyond still there in the sheen of each tile; a reminder they were far from alone. ❛ i do make excellent company but i know better than to believe you went to all this trouble for only a chat. ❜ even close the shroud allows for no further insight when examining hiss features ( so we will both be strangers here, not me alone ━ this was new ) the newly obtained adornments are waved about between her fingers and then she slips behind the spy. ❛ so, a chase then? or are you about to make a plea to my good graces? ❜
{ * psyche is primarily an underworld deity considering her aspect is that of the SOUL
➵ because i need more women to be in solidarity in myths after meeting persephone during her trials she returns to the underworld as a handmaiden to the goddess ( think of this as goddess bootcamp essentially ! )
➵ she serves a similar function that hekate does in some myths as being one of persephone's torchbearers when she returns to the surface during the spring
➵ despite this psyche is able to travel freely out of the underworld but there are certain parts that she is barred from. primarily her domain is that of elysium as this is closest to the surface.
➵ first and foremost she is the guardian of the butterflies. some souls arrive to the fields in the form of winged creatures and she must help guide them back to their bodies or keeps them within her personal kaleidoscope if a human form no longer suits them.
➵ i don't think her presence in the underworld is necessarily that of an enduring fixture. the soul travels from life to death so her services are needed in the realm of living as well. she frequently appears in near-death situations to restore "the last breath" of the dying if their time is too soon.
immortality becomes a convention for eventuality, or so he says. nothing waits longer than an oak, remembers more than a yew, collects scars and suffers like a hawthorn. ( then what do you sprout from ? holly, rowan, a dash of flowers like love - in - a - mist, a sprinkling of gentle rue, the chrysanthemum that pretends to be infinite. ) a funerary arrangement for a birdcage of a woman, who looks like she wishes to be anything but a birdcage. the wind whistles an old song that only it remembers and passes by the silhouette of a buck by the shade of the tree. the shadow of the canopy stretches as far as it can, vast fingers from vast hands, like a feeble effort to touch her.
and when it cannot, he shrugs instead, and thinks the gush of water could be blood. ❛❛ when you become older than most forests in the world, mo stór, vehemence becomes second nature. perhaps you would get better practice at it. ❜❜ and he walks ; if there were footsteps, the grass eats it, and as the grass continues to eat, it continues to die as he passes. an acceleration and a falling. rot could come early here, and it would never know the catharsis of winter until it was willed. the oriole remembers being a cigarette and watches atop the fountain.
they do not sit, they do not remember anything that flora does not, but the grass at her ankles springs its teeth and sway by her calves and remember nothing at all. ❛❛ your memories drip like sap over this place, viscous and cloying. at least the loam thinks of it as self - serving. ❜❜ the mirror of the water reflects a sky as grey as its stone and the head of an old stag, gnarled branches for horns without symmetry, with a wolf’s eyes, a wolf’s teeth when it opens its mouth, a wolf’s cackle.
❛❛ she calls for me still ? ah, humbled as i am, she has better tendings and worse wounds yet than a stray child. ❜❜ his words are not black birds any longer with the evocation of the morrígna, because nothing else could be a black bird anymore in their presence, even in words. ❛❛ it is the thick of spring, and the seelie do their dancing and drinking and debauched forms of play whilst they reign. it is not my office nor my care. besides, i hardly think autumn would shed tears over my temporary absence. ❜❜ the buck turns its head, and turns a whole forest atop its skull with it, to look at the moth in the mirror. ❛❛ and you ? i hardly see the need to haunt students in old castle halls like a jilted ghoul. ❜❜
I AM NEVER FAR FROM YOU; AS THE BLEEDING AUTUMN INVITES DECAY. it is i; the houseguest who never leaves ( eternally upon your threshold caught in the transience of the season ) it may be the alderking encroaching upon the phantom's garden now but this domain was disputable. beyond the veil what do we truly own but our intended sentiments to one another? this is muddled practice, the delineation of intention versus action. one may believe time afforded a certain rationality ━ such an idea was untrue. the years unfold into a great unmaking and then a resurrection . the bird on the bow remains first feathered, then cartilage carried, then dust, then blood and bone again.
❛ do not talk down to me, @scythed. lest you make me believe my illusions have gotten to you. ❜ a frequent occurrence is how they scold her as an unruly child and how she plays the part of the precocious youth. hope still ripe in her heart despite it having long-since been buried. the burning remains there in her lungs, the smoke of winged plumes. mayflies and maggots. dragonflies and crickets. the foulness of the underearth trapped in her ribs and if she speaks she must stop grave dirt from spilling over her tongue. that mineral-rich mouth, that betraying quartz smile.
❛ and yet here you are ━ drawn to the saccharine despite all your bitterness. swing low willow tree, shed your pale sugar leaves upon me... ❜ that poetry in defense, the web of candy floss she weaves and he comes forth to her. SURELY NOT SWAYED BY THE PASSING FLATTERY. they cannot resist from coming up close, every branch bends towards her then, boughs heavy with the unspeakable. ❛ cutting words to say at such a distance, i suppose i do not need to ask you to talk freely here. ❜ they spared one another the pleasantries, the postering of titles and what was acceptable to do within such confines.
❛ i am drawn to their humanity just as you are repulsed by it. although, no matter how many years i spend in their shadow... i am nothing more than a constellation of bones that has fathomed itself together with false skin. ❜ a recitation more than confessional, the emotion is flat as her tone ━ a stone smoothed over in the riverbed ❛ perhaps that is why you continue to choose my company over that of your court? an eternal rotting, there is always food for you here at the base of my altar. ❜ this, is not a lofty claim it is simply the position they are in as her hands cup murky water, clouded with enchantment. every drink in her hand an elixir of the departed. raising it up as an offering ━ handmaiden of the gods, touched by the elder folk that same offering palm is held aloft. ❛ go on, drink. ❜
name : (cora)zón
pronouns : she / they.
preference of communication : clown to clown communication
most active muse(s) : who can even say? at the moment maybe eimile, buffy, ronan, and psyche
experience / how many years : easily 10+ years lol
best experience : honestly the last few years have been amazing for me! i feel like the quality of my writing is the best it's ever been and i owe it all to my current group of writing partners that constantly challenge me and encourage me to expand my horizons when it comes to who and what genres i write!
rp pet peeves : people who steal content both writing and graphics are sooo ridiculous, not actually wanting to plot despite preaching about being a plot-centric blog, saying you have the best portrayal of 'xyz' muse while there is barely any writing on your blog, acting like people who care about media analysis over blind consumption are elitists lol.
plots or memes : i like to start with plotting typically! but with my long-term partners i can usually work off a random meme and find a plot there. it really depends on the dynamic and how well i know the person i am writing with.
are you like your muse(s) : lol nah. most of my muses are way more confident and sure of themselves than i could ever hope to be but i guess personality wise maybe edith or even miles who i haven't even written yet but i just Know
tagged by: @scythed / @oddyseas my beloveds <33
tagging: @vipier / @kaeleidoscopes , @notodin, @acataelepsie, and i think everyone else i would usually tag has been tagged so also you reading this rn!
[ passing confidence ] felicia and karen yes we go all vibes all in
{ * the intimacy of hands . . . ACCEPTING!
❛ a profile ━ on me? ❛ summer is a simmer in the city the pavement casting its distortion of heat waves across the sidewalk by they are enveloped in air conditioned glamor of a park avenue cafe. old habits die hard, right? the cat could not be out of arm's length away from a potential spoil ( tiffany always was so tempting! the most generous of all her past dalliances ) yet the hardy heiress had long-since graduated from petty theft but the temptation always remained. eyes wide like jewels.
@rosenvale is the most subdued figure in this almost sterile storm of refinement. it is all chrome and marble and then; miss page. clearly too far up town than she was comfortable being on the day-to-day. they said some people never went above 14th street but murdock and nelson preferred to haunt the theater district adjacent ( the phantom finally leaving the opera with a new mask to boot! ) the coffee nearly matches the monochrome of her clothes sleek and subdued; a sheen of quiet luxury. taking a sip she hums with the bitter taste still on her lips. ❛ wouldn't that just end up being more of an exposé, or you would be jeopardizing your journalistic integrity by playing obvious favorites with me. ❜ the cup comes down on the saucer, an utterly silent motion, a reminder of her capabilities. it was strange to see either of them in the morning hours; night-dwellers caught red-handed.
❛ be honest with me, karen, you're not here for some fluff piece on a new york socialite. your boys make a mess they can't clean up again or something? ❜ felicia didn't do charity work but she was not so subtle when a valuable caught her eye and her hand was draped across the table and the bait was taken ━ however subtly. the larcenist completes the motion like any thief would, making off with a hand in her own.
I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go. ( from eimile i miss my depresso npcs )
ENTRY, CLOSED.
the ether is where they find each other, collected and assembled into one cross-section of the beginning and end here where she reigns above every newly dead thing and they are put into limbo before returning to their rightful post. two soldiers meeting amidst their stations, meeting against all odds of time, and the meeting is never repetitive as it is the rare chance for both to find a familiar face among all the new ones they see each day on their planes of existence. the monk has prayed for safe travel this time and he banshee has arrived all but promptly, the first face the gone and yet freshly invoked face of the shadow has and will see between one door and the next. it is ritual, it is part of the play-book they both adhere to, two different entities and beliefs meeting under the same starless limbo.
the grass is cold under their feet, ever-unchanging and ever fading in its green. yet it is a comfort to feel it beneath their soles, to feel the solid earth of even this in-between as they look into the dear and gruesome face of the only continuing traveller on their own journey. " it is quite cruel, is it not? we only ever see each other for such little amount of time, yet you are one of the people i consider vital for my being, " they say with similar sentiment, gravitas that stitches itself perfectly into hers. she sees them fully revealed and they see her as close to life as she could be - they restore balance to the extremes they have found the other in. " sometimes when i dream , and i see all there is , this place comes to my mind too . but i can never go, and i can never make it stay. it's not exactly fair. "
THEY THEMSELVES ARE THE BRIDGE HERE, THE LIMINAL CROSSING BETWEEN SPIRIT AND TANGIBILITY. it is no surprise she encouraged them to reach for her as she materializes more fully. the mistlands sprawled before them on the other end of the riverbank ━ an alpenglow beacon in the oncoming night, a call home in the dying light. the princess had meant to continue wading forward once linked and yet they dither there in sweeping tall grass and it whips in the passing gale. the rush of it like a third presence betwixt them, the lament she once sang echoing in the air ━ an omen and a beacon. ❛ you give me too much credit. i serve a higher power as you do and as much as i enjoy our momentary strolls through the in between... this is my responsibility. ❜ you are my responsibility, in some contexts it could be written.
❛ but i must confess i would find the time for you even if this task was alleviated from me. ❜ it is easy to call candor to her side here. given the transience of this moment, it is an hourglass turned over, a midnight bell tolling. the next day would come and it would bring a new death and they would repeat this dance again across the ballroom of eternity. it is a solemn thought but it also provides a strange comfort for the grave-singer. some permanence when she was surrounded by flames awaiting the final puff of her breath, an extinguishing that would bring the smoke of them into her arms. ❛ it makes me wonder... am i there as well? ❜ bold in the medium of undeath, more a heroic feathered thing in the element of her own making. ❛ i suppose that matters less than ━ does it bring you some comfort at the very least? most fear my lands but you always come quietly, sneaking in as shadows do. ❜ I remembering herself part way through her wonderings and yet she is there at their shoulder; moth, raven, pure viridity wrapped velvet around bones.
okay but my brain has been caught on the fact that the whole mechanism of the canaan house trials is just an allusion to harrow and gideon’s roles in the overarching plot… like locks and keys… what bigger lock in the universe is there but the tomb and by extension the keeper of that tomb and what more significant a key than the blood of the emperor to release upon him his supposed end? they were always meant to be adversaries always linked by opposition IT WAS BY DESIGN and even despite that they found love for one another!!! i wanna lay down