Pose, Click, Repeat

An Infinity Nikki photo blog

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The Star Shepard — She spends her nights gathering the stars that drift too far from home. By morning, the sky never remembers they were missing.

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Vitamin Sea — "I'll only stay for an hour," she said as she hastily packed snacks, sunscreen, and exactly zero responsibilities.

Five sunsets later, she's still here.

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A Fairy of Light and Color — Among fairies, few are as difficult to spot as the Prism Fairies. They appear only when the sky is changing colors, gathering fragments of light before they fade away.

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Fairy's Day Off — Occasionally, on her days off, someone will knock on her door with an urgent request.

"The daisies aren't blooming~" "The fireflies are acting strange..." "A traveler says they saw a dragon!"

Instead of replying, Lielle simply adjusts her glasses and points to the notice hanging beside the door:

Fairy off duty. Please return tomorrow.

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No Flower Left Behind — Whenever she discovers a flower she likes, she quietly adopts it. This has created several problems.

The gardeners of Florawish keep finding rare blooms growing in completely unsuitable places. The faewish sprites have complained that flowers keep appearing around their homes without warning. One very confused Piecey once discovered a ring of blossoms surrounding his mailbox.

When confronted, the fairy always gives the same defense.

"But they looked lonely..."

Nobody has yet found a suitable argument against this.

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Orange Blossom — She spent her days helping flowers bloom, untangling climbing vines from rooftops, and every evening she somehow ended up drinking tea in someone else's garden, offering gardening advice nobody had asked for.

Most of it was useful. Sort of.

Once she convinced an entire neighborhood to sing to their flowerbeds because she insisted it improved morale. Whether she meant the flowers' morale or the gardeners' was never clarified.

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The Flowers Are Not Following You — Visitors began to arrive from all over Miraland. Scholars. Travelers. Artists who insisted the flowers looked different every time they painted them.

She spent most afternoons pointing people back toward the proper paths.

"No, that way leads to the cliffs."

"No, you can't keep that skull."

"No, the flowers are not following you."

The last one was usually a lie. Sometimes the flowers were actually following them. She just thought it was funnier not to explain.

She also kept a running list of things visitors asked in the Boneyard.

"Can souls read? Why are there so many flowers? Are those real dragon bones?"

The answers depended entirely on how entertaining she thought the conversation would be.

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Field Notes — The air was warm. The water was quiet. Somewhere nearby, someone was singing badly and with great confidence. All in all, it had been a pleasant afternoon.

Every day, she sat by the pier, listened to stories, and filled another page. The local Parksolians had stopped asking what she was writing months ago. At first, it had been just names. Then favorite foods. Hobbies. Places people missed. The occasional bad joke. Just small, simple facts about souls she had met who thought someone ought to remember they were here.

"Favorite fruit: peaches." "Afraid of spiders." "Terrible lute player." "Won three pie contests." "Forgot where he left his bag."

She looked down at her notebook, thumbing through past entries. A lopsided smile crept across her face. She was running out of room again.

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Black Veil — When she was younger, she imagined writing both their names on a piece of wish paper and watching it disappear into the sky above Florawish.

That paper remained tucked inside a drawer for years, and the white dress remained folded away in a cedar chest, untouched.

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Cool Beyond Comparison — During candlelit experiments long after midnight, a scientist with frost in her gaze works laboriously despite being tangled in her thoughts.

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A Sexy Soul That Burns a Lifetime — The frightening thing was never her beauty, it was how easy it became to want more of it.

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Heroic Ambition — She is not a warrior chasing conquest, but someone who must become strong enough to protect what matters... no matter how frightening the path ahead may be.

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Floral Leap — Petals unfurl with every breath she takes, as if the stars themselves are learning how to bloom.

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Electrifying Artistry — I thought the tide would wash everything away... but instead, it left me here among the roses.

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Lost Butterfly Traces — At dusk, the butterflies return to the mountains... and by morning, only glittering traces remain.

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Floral Ballad — "The flowers here know my name. They open when I sing, crimson and heeding, drinking every note like it might be their last."

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Chasing a Sunny Day — "I knew it! I knew I’d find it today. It’s everywhere now, slipping through the trees, catching on my sleeves, following me like it never meant to hide at all. I think if I keep moving like this, light on my feet, laughing for no reason, it’ll stay."