brave enough to dream

Sylvie De Bellis ⦁ 26 Halfblooded ⦁ Empathy Faiman ⦁ the Altruist

[theliteraryjournals]

She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.

Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke & Bone (via wordsnquotes)

[harrv]

[sylviedebellis]

micahwright​:

@sylviedebellis​ location: Mutat Domun notes: flowers for the grieving

Flowers kept coming, Micah imagined Thistle House was booming. They were all over the city though, Mutat Domun wasn’t special. Micah would walk past the old home of the Amaranthus and see collections of flowers piled high against the door. Whomever remained within lingered at the window, watching but not able to bring them in or move them away. There were more at Thistle House for the departed woman who was meant to be queen, and at the steps of Mutat Domun there were photos to enshrine everyone that had been lost. Micah’s sister among them. His mom had come for the funeral but there was no body to bury, so she’d left with some of Emma’s favourite things. A bracelet that their mother had given her, a hairbrush. Her perfume. Things were different now, he felt different. Micah wondered how long it would last. “Help me bring some of these in?” He asked the person next to him as he grabbed a few of the more recent bouquets. The faiman couldn’t stand to watch them wither and die on the sidewalk.  

-

Rows of colors mixed with various religious talismans lined the space in front of Mutat Domun. A not all too uncommon scene that was happening in other locations all across the city as the community began to whisper that this was now New Rome. But it was difficult not to feel the losses of every halfblood that littered the halls she came back to stand in, as if the ground around them was stained. They had asked to be seen, asked for a seat at the table, and that cry was heard. Just not in the way any of them had hoped and a lot of that weight fell on her own shoulders for advocating for such a place. Sylvie had started to see the cracks under the surface that only solidified that they were all way in over their heads. “Oh, sure— absolutely,” the fellow halfblood finally answered back, eyes gripping onto an arrangement that she remembered working on the previous day before shuttling herself back into reality. Grief hung all over the man that spoke, though it was shock that she took in from him first before willing herself to move towards the florals. “You’re Micah, aren’t you?” But the way the question was formed suggested Sylvie’s gut instinct was correct, arms now filled with flowers as the two made their way inside, “I knew your sister from a fey party. Not well or anything, but she still has a beautiful spirit.” Had, yet the fellow halfblood made no effort to correct her wording, instead slightly wincing before allowing her eyes to meet his own, “I’m so sorry.”

[sylviedebellis]

acolyterose​:

@sylviedebellis​ location: Thistle House notes: Porn Shame

Atlas liked flowers, they reminded him of home. The good parts, not the gay trauma parts. Wildflowers grew in abundance over the hills and there was a time when Atlas used to pick them for his mom. Elmira was gone, he didn’t really know how… Or why, but there were instructions left for the staff to bring flowers to some guy’s grave every week. Kadir Osman. Some pharmacist that had died in the fall. There was a lot of death lately. A lot of funerals, which meant they were busy and Atlas had to put in more hours than he would have liked - it was cutting into his content creation. 

“Did you know him, Elmira’s friend?” Atlas asked as he finished wrapping the flowers for Kadir so he could move onto the next arrangement. Elmira died on her wedding day, he didn’t really remember the day - there had been dancing, drinking, and then things had gotten kind of fuzzy. When he woke up the next day it was the middle of the afternoon, he was in bed, tired, and felt compelled to drink a lot of orange juice and stuff his face with cookies. His cleanse didn’t allow for cookies, but he’d binged on orange juice and wheatgrass instead. “I just wonder how long we’re going to have to do this for.” 

-

“No, I didn’t personally know him.” Though over the on and off months of working in the shop meant having not just heard the name Kadir, but laying eyes on him strolling the space. All that didn’t exactly qualify her as having known the pharmacist, nor could she justify keeping up with the flower arrangements as Elmira had intended her employees to do other than for the same reason they did it for any of the other orders. Not only was it a job, they got paid to craft the display and even deliver it to the tomb, but Sylvie could recall the anguish within the vampire over the loss. So, in the halfblood’s eyes, there wasn’t much reason to complain unless it had to do with the elaborate after-work hour. She let a soft shrug fall from her shoulders as her onyx irises stayed fixated on an elaborate array that required a skipped lunch break to complete, and allowed a sorrowful exhale escape her lips. A wound was still deep within the halfblood’s usually tough skin, especially at reliving the realization that Elmira wasn’t heading out for some long honeymoon and would eventually be back. This was all permanent.

Her fingertips continued to lace up the bundle with twine as she allowed too much time to pass before speaking again. Some may have looked at it as hesitation, though masked depression might have been a more accurate lens as she looked up to Atlas without any conviction. “Money’s money, right? Adding one more order is the least we can do for someone that is keeping us employed even beyond the grave,” her voice was borderline sappy, “I can always go with you or go myself if you have other plans.”

[sylviedebellis]

thiefnathan​:

@sylviedebellis​ location: The STREETS notes: on the run

There was the sound of a lock unlatching as a hidden path between this realm and the next opened wide, manifesting in an alley somewhere in Rome where previously there had been none. By now the paths in and out of the city were being watched by one faction or another, changelings - either eldritch or fey - hunters from The Eye who’d come to learn how they worked. Drow. Witches. It was getting harder and harder to tell who was on what side but if the thief knew anything it was that just about all of them wanted to see him behind bars. The senate was against him, whatever sanctuary the halfblooded might have sought out at Mutat Domun was gone. There were few friends that he could rely on now, his lifestyle hadn’t lent itself particularly well to making meaningful connections. 

Through the gate Nathan sauntered forth, all but oblivious to the halfblooded that was standing there, mouth agape, when the cambion walked out. The path closed behind him as he stared, wide eyed for a moment, “Um,” he started, “you didn’t see that.”

-

They closed off all the connecting points, an easy way to keep even those such as herself from entering the now Drow overtaken lands, and looking for fresh entrances was something Sylvie mostly tasked herself with. Though it was a no brainer that if she found out any kind of way to infiltrate and gain access to the other side, the halfblood would want to use it for some kind of peace treaty. After all, the further loss of life was her main concern after so much death had already befallen the fey and could sense every bit of their suffering. But it wasn’t just the fey that seeped into her spiritual shield, the entire community would be different from this moment forward and there was difficulty in holding onto hope for what she would find on the other end of the chaos. No one would come out of this unscathed and the halfblood wanted to make damn sure that her wounds were well earned. So while she was aware that knowledge came from essays and research materials, there was a wealth of information out on Rome’s old cobblestone streets and at times that meant being there to greet Lady Luck.

Her insides bubbled as she perched herself around the corner of a dead end street, connected to what looked like various employee entrances and overflowing dumpsters. The whole scene was a bit dirty as Sylvie continued to hug the shadows, a wave of senses overcoming her as she listened closely and watched as thick boots scuffed the ground below them. Eyebrows furrowed as her body unconsciously led her from her little corner and into the alley’s lamp light, “Hard to say I didn’t when I just did.” That pesky faiman trait, knowing this small accident wouldn’t exactly be easy to conceal if asked the proper way.

[sylviedebellis]

wadecalhoun​:

          a gift for @sylviedebellis,

          Ever since being contractually obligated to work with The Eye he had toed the line of respecting them but found himself occasionally clashing with what they vied for Wade to do. Introspectively, he had to remind himself that their end goal was the same and remained tight lipped on whatever bellicose protests he tended to have when it came to certain tasks, biting his tongue to garner his own silence. This was one of said missions, filtering out into the woods to hunt down another wolf; the glimmer of the full moon the only light which struck down upon him. He’d never cared to gun for werewolves, they’d never slighted him, but he discovered certain ones with a penchant for violence that he certainly found hard to stomach and so he teetered that line of morality, a crossroads he found himself at time and time again. Nothing was black and white but in times when he hunted someone whose name was just scrawled onto a blotch of paper, Wade had to pretend that this was not someone who could pertain to any sense of humanity.

He’d done his homework, tailed the lycan in question, awaiting the next full moon to strike and bring them down. The Eye always had strange requests for obtaining their subjects and Wade was never into the science or semantics of what they desired. Howls echoed throughout the forest, a chasmic reverberation that should have humbled Wade yet the archer sternly pulled out his crossbow instead, the arrowhead lined with silver. He was certain the lycan he was tailing would have remained in this quadrant in the woods, most wolves in Rome desired a remote place where they could respectively transform into such beast, sequestered away from the city streets. Some stayed within their packs and some wandered off alone, Wade eyeing a flash of fur tear through the trees as he squared up his weapon to fire.

The arrow released from the bow and a curse escaped him at the sight of some fucking human waltzing through the woods, Wade fumbling as the arrow was now sent of course, splintering into some random tree. This changed everything and he was dreading having to come back to The Eye empty handed but he jumped down from his own perch, jogging over to her now, “The hell you think you’re doing out here?” An incredulous look was shot her way, gripping the base of the arrow to tear it from it’s landing spot in the tree, Wade grimacing.

-

This had been going on for weeks, months— years. A ritual of going out into the local woodland areas that she found herself around and just wandering until something felt a bit different. It wasn’t exactly the most scientific way of going about it, but over the years she had gained more insight into what she was actually experiencing when the presence of a portal was near. Especially since her childhood plagued her with the constant understanding of the circle of life within the forest itself and the need to control what affected her so deeply. She’d never received any kind of formal training on how exactly to deal with the various traits that came with having fey-tinged blood, let alone felt personally connected with any that she had come across and found her bounds in those that also rested somewhere between. Like most halfblood’s, her father had been absent for the majority of her life to the point that Sylvie is well aware her memories of him are formed from the rare stories her mother would share about their time together. For the longest time, it had saddened her that there was so little that her mother actually knew about the man that staked his claim on half of her child, but time had shown her that her mother saw it as a blessing. Even the faiman trait had never allowed room for Sylvie to ask if her mother had actually preferred it his way all along. An encounter with fairies in the forest wasn’t exactly uncommon in the thick forests of Italy, but having a tempestuous romance with one had once meant disobedience in the eyes of the court.

And with the breaking of Tatiana’s glass house, the overtaking of the Drow, Sylvie had whole new reasons to be caught up in the forests at all hours. With the two on the brink of war, keeping tabs on crossover points was even more important than just making contact with her father. A childish hope that she could one day discover a little more about her own connections that hardly seemed worth the time as of late.

Backpack filled to the brim with essentials, though still light enough for foot travel, the halfblood made her way into what seemed like a bottomless forest. She was lost in a feeling and a desire to see if the Drow’s would start establishing fresh portals near the ones they had already blocked. Other locations had turned up with no luck, but Sylvie couldn’t stop herself from making yet another attempt. Each plant and tree almost felt supercharged as she did her best to scan the area, only having what tech a masters student could afford on a part-timer’s budget. Which meant not a lot, though thus far she had been able to work alone on just her fey-tinged traits and a bit of wit, so confidence was hardly lacking. But the darkness brought the unknown and at the sound of splintering, Sylvie discerned suddenly that she wasn’t exactly solo. ‘The hell you think you’re doing out here?’ A seething face emerged from the tree that only reflected more of the tone in his voice that housed skepticism. “I could ask you the same thing,” she rebutted calmly, though parts of her sensed the sting of the arrow as the stranger tore it from its new home within the tree’s bark, “but by the look of it, you are doing illegal hunting on protected land.”

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @wintersaurora​ location: anywhere yah want

It almost suffocated the famian, this overwhelming sense of misery and sorrow. A type of melancholy and resentment mixed together in the most complex weaving that practically brought about shock to Sylvie’s untrained empath trait— intricate lacings that only years of relationships and simply existing could cause. That’s what happened with immortality, wasn’t it? Bits and pieces of bitterness would leak into the bones regardless of how much care was put into never allowing that seed to grow. No one creature or species was exempt from those kinds of attachments. A firm lump formed in the halfblood’s throat as she approached the winter fey, as if Sylvie had just left a warm space for the frigid blast of the arctic, and she attempted to choke out well-articulated words, “Aurora? Do you remember me— Sylvie?” Broken speech as she settled on the ground before the winter fey, though there weren’t many parts of her that actually felt stable. So much had happened since the last time the two had laid eyes on each other that she wouldn’t have blamed the eladrin for any kind of confusion at the famain’s presence, especially now that the Drow had officially taken their rise to power.

But it appeared that Aurora forced a smile nonetheless, as grim and almost foreboding as it felt to look at, there was always reassurance in knowing she carried no hostilities towards the young, furrow-eyebrowed halfblood. “You took on a more moderate stance during the talks,” which took Sylvie by surprise given the passionate feelings that seemed to radiate off Aurora even now, “I can’t imagine not having more remarks given your position in the court.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked for answers from a fey when she hadn’t asked a single thing other than remembrance. There’s no way it could be enough, not now when it was clear to Sylvie that the fey would be going to war.

[sylviedebellis]

edeliexii​:

             Without a doubt, Èdelie loves halfbloods. Her support for them hasn’t change after her transition into an eladrin despite the small pushback from their community. There’s courage in being a faiman, and there’s courage is rightfully fighting for the representation deserved. The accomplishments of faimen might’ve been slim, but still major to sum including her. While halfbloods are incapable of undoing the purposeful infliction of harm on them for numerous centuries, current times can bring forth a good conversation on how to mend the bridge of pain. Èdelie, even if feys express wrath at her actions, will always publicly express her warmth for halfbloods. A physical change will not diminish her absolute adoration for them. “Sounds about right,” the brunette hummed, smiling at the sound of her name. The dramatic decision she partook in nearly casted her as a household name, partly for good reasons and the other part poorly. She’d like to hope whom stood before her has decent intentions as Èdelie’s not usually one to participate in the theatrics. “Sylvie de Bellis… Sylvie, I like that. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And she’s pleasantly surprised by her affectionate greeting, too, with flesh reddening within seconds as she struggled to articulate the right words. “Is this how you normally introduce yourself to others?”

-

The whole exchange was probably a bit too forward, but the culture of Italian greetings and the sense of feeling as if she had already known Èdelie her whole life filled every inch of the halfblood. Maybe it was familiarity, like when the sun is shining brightly through the snow encrusted pine and spruce within the Alps she had grown up around. A lot of the winter fey gave her this feeling, though that hardly meant that they weren’t a force to be reckoned with and could hold onto a bitterness that rivaled even Tatiana’s. She’d always known not to make an adversary of the season, much preferring most fey to be her ally anyway. “Sorry— overzealous is what my mother says is my greatest trait, but sometimes most fatal flaw,” instinctually, Sylvie bit at the inside of her cheek as nerves did their best to eat at her insides, “I think that’s just a nice way of her saying my little faerie traits perplex and mystify her.” Her statement followed a gentle shrug as her obsidian irises peered softly at the eladrin. To Sylvie, she supposed, the woman that stood before her was lionhearted, a champion at still bringing a voice to what halfblood’s could be and an almost unwavering moral compass.

[sylviedebellis]

location: outside mutat domum starter for: @praetorleal​

“Keep your eyes closed,” the fellow halfblood stated as the two made their way to the land that was designated Mutat Domum. All that stood now were various pillars that had once accompanied walls and ceilings, along with an emptiness that Sylvie couldn’t quite explain. It had been well over a week since the destruction of the house and clean up was still underway, though the time gave them all plenty to mull over as rumors became facts around town. The Drow’s had overturned the Fey’s and while that would typically give the empath some kind of delight at Tatiana’s fall, there was a sickness in her gut that told her there was something still wrong here. She’d share her feelings with Cloe at some point, now not feeling like the right time. After all the pain and hostility, all she truly wanted was to focus on something good— even if just for a brief moment. “Absolutely no peeking,” which she knew to be difficult even for a half-fey, onyx hues fluttering from her friends clasped hands to the last bundle of plants that had been delivered. She had left some unplanted for the fellow halfblood, knowing that they both shared that strange Faiman need to stick their hands into dirt. 

Sabina and her had been working on it since Cloe had discovered their newly gained faction completely decimated, taking as many clippings and overstock from Thistle House as she could to fill a fresh greenhouse. It wasn’t a lot, but she hoped it would be enough of a happy surprise to ease some of the suffering they all endured. Especially one of her closest confidants, all smiles as she finished leading Cloe to the best spot just outside the gazebo style greenhouse. “Okay, okay, you can finally open your eyes,” her voice was overly enthusiastic and cheery as she waited for her friend's reaction.

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @sabinabrutus​ location: outside mutat domum 

“Cloe asked me to bring some over,” a soft statement as her eyes looked down at the handful of sprouts as she approached the area that was Mutat Domum. It was an understatement to say she was, in spite of all those little self-care tips, unraveling underneath it all and trying her best to get a grip. She had already been back into Thistle House to straighten up the place following the city's destruction and found its need for repairs to be minor. A flower shop was hardly the place for much of anything nefarious and soon the place was running once more. But even though there was a sense of flow back within not just the shop, gaping holes could be found throughout the city that only reminded the community of the turmoil and frenzy. That frenzy stayed put inside her mind as she felt every bit of the tide and couldn’t seem to fully escape her empathic abilities.

So many people were affected, so much of the forests she once explored freely were touched by an ache deep in  her belly that Sylvie couldn’t get over. She wore it all over her demeanor, this almost exhausted strength. “There’s more on my scooter if you could help me,” her head nodded back towards where she had parked before her arms bent outward, “or you can take these.” In all honesty, she couldn’t recall a time that she had asked if Sabina even enjoyed greenery in the same way most fey she had come across. Even Faiman seemed to have some kind of subtle attraction towards plants and specific seasons, but was that the same for Cambion? Or maybe some kind of parallel?  A nervous smile tugged at the corners of Sylvie’s cherry stained lips, that silly little honest trait poking at her, “I’m sorry- I should have asked how you are first.”

[senatushq]

The Altruist ~

NAME. UTP. AGE & BIRTH DATE. UTP. SPECIES. Halfblooded BLOODLINE. Faiman OCCUPATION. UTP.

They told you that your faerie blood made you beautiful, that you had their eyes, and their smile. What you really wanted was to see them in person, to hold up this visage you were constantly compared to and gaze upon it like you were looking into a mirror. Sometimes you imagined it late at night, painting childish dreams in your mind’s eye of the world that half your blood came from. Whatever rules and laws that kept you apart would bend when they met you, you were sure of it. You spent years looking for these hidden paths, you looked for the ways that ran behind the world unseen, but never found them. Those that said they could help never did, they made off with your coin or your treasures after they promised a service rendered and weren’t ever seen again. Somehow this didn’t bother you, money could be made, treasures could be found, but someday you’d see your real home at long last and beseech the Queen who banished your kind. Rome became the place for you because it was here where old knowledge was gathered, where creatures like you could be found and dealt with. Fey were capricious, but you were always diligent.

THIS SKELETON IS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

[draumas]

SYDNEY PARK BY NADJA AMAHN (2021)

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @wintersaurora​ location: faerie queen’s forest

“I don’t remember seeing you at the Queen’s little masquerade,” the faiman’s eyebrows furrow slightly as she looks at the Eladrin, formalities having already been met as her onyx hues practically studied the other, “did you attend that, too?” Sylvie’s voice still gripped onto youth, the small naive bits that wanted to believe that she would find more virtue in the world than sin. Winter, just like all the seasons, had dual sides of themselves that brought laughter and pain. She could feel that within all of them as they passed her by, paying her no mind as centuries of time together meant mingling among those who understood the rich histories. This was hardly her season, the crisp snow falling elegantly yet never fully touched the most important spaces within the forest gathering, but she carried a firm appreciation for it. Winter in the Italian Alps was something the halfblood claimed to be more than used to, having spent a good amount of years carefully footed behind her mother as she looked for evidence of her own existence.

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @edeliexii​ location: fae forest bash

Other people hardly ever made the halfblood nervous. Usually it was situational things, like most would encounter, but presenting herself and getting to know another individual came a little more naturally when faiman blood ran through the veins. Her power was, for lack of a better term, weak comparative to what she knew she could be if given the right opportunity. Sylvie had enough capability to fight back against the Leech, save another vampire that may have called her a snack in a different setting, but the thought of approaching Edelie to pry about how it felt to now be called fey. It felt like a century had passed since then, but that only added confusion and gave life to Sylvie coming up with her own stories as to how it all happened. “Edelie, right?” her words are delicate as she finds a place seated next to the woman, fur scarf wrapped just tight enough to cause some of its hairs to block the smile that’s beaming, “I heard about you through some mutuals.” Creepy, she knows, but it’s not as if lying is something she’s capable of, “Sorry, I should introduce myself— Sylvie de Bellis.” A swift cheek kiss before onyx hues meet the others with a warm grin, “please call me Sylvie.”

[mimis-memes]

🍎 ｡:*• ─ THE WINTER DATE.     ›    ( a symbol meme for muses who want to do something special & fun together this winter. )

send a symbol for our muses to:

⛄️  ─  build a snowman ❄️  ─  have a snowball fight 👼  ─  make snow angels ⛸  ─  go ice skating 🛷  ─  go sledding ⛷  ─  take a skiing trip 🍪  ─  have some hot cocoa and cookies 🍿  ─  stay in watching movies, wrapped up in a blanket  🔥  ─  have dinner by the fire 🥧   ─  bake something together 🧑‍🍳   ─  take a cooking class together 🛖   ─  take a cabin getaway  🌲   ─  go on a walk through the woods 🧶   ─  knit something for each other ✂️  ─  start a DIY project together 🎡  ─  visit a winter wonderland 📚   ─  have a coffeeshop & bookstore date 🛁   ─  take a nice, warm bubble bath together 💤   ─  have a pajama day 🕯   ─  have a “no electricity” date night ⛺️   ─  build a blanket fort 🃏   ─  wildcard !  choose your own activity !

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @emmaxmicah​ location: faerie queen’s forest 

“It’s like something out of my childhood fairytales,” her onyx irises were wide as snowflakes gently fell upon the Queen’s forest, yet managed to only gather along certain surfaces as if a guise covered the most important parts of the decor and food. Ever since the masquerade, the idea of consuming faerie food left a vile taste within her mouth but still clutched firmly onto a spiced mulled cider that’s vapors flooded the apples of her cheekbones as eyes continued to peek around. Parts of the halfblood house had been decorated in a similar fashion, though Sylvie wasn’t sure she would ever get over her breath escaping her when she peered upon anything the fae touched. For a long moment, she was back within the Italian Alps and could hear the crunch of her mother’s snow boots just up ahead as she staggered behind— lost in wonder and looking for any winter blooms. Nostalgia quickly filling her as she looked back at the fellow haflblood before moving her glass to the air, “Buone feste, my friend. We made it.” A warm grin fluttered onto her lips, “Cin, cin!”

[sylviedebellis]

starter for: @xremusx​ location: front room, thistle house

Though the young halfblood had felt his presence before, there was never a moment that allowed her to put a name to the face to the feeling— so to speak. Entrances and portals was where the spark first showed itself before it quickly disappeared again, but Sylvie could never have known that something beyond her understanding was at work and ripping itself through spaces that she was hunting. “The amaryllis makes for a beautiful centerpiece,” she stated as feet made their way to the stranger, bits of the feeling slightly amplifying as her hues glanced to the brightness of the red flower that was accompanied by several other winter breeds, “unless you are looking for something more specific.” Which when it came to Thistle House, it was more than likely that those specific needs would be met. The vampire that called the shop theirs carried what Sylvie would refer to as a deep obsession for various types of flora, able to care for even some of the most exotic and delicate kinds.