#destinedrose

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@destinedrose

"Nonsense,” breathes he, coming to Oscar in the Barracks with long, confident strides, silent as the breeze. His face is concerned, and he comes near Oscar without a thought for amiable propriety, the careful, hovering hand at their elbow; the a’waited Sentinel, the opened shoulder.

“Why art thou crying?” asks Roland, so softly. He hath settled down at Oscar’s side--- remembering that he did indeed shut the door behind him on the way In--- looking into Oscar’s face for the entirety of his true Path, the auricular Center of his cosmic storm.

Roland’s expression is beyond contrition, borne in a very real heartbreak at the very Idea of Oscar crying, by the Infinite Mother of Nature. He a’waits patiently for them to speak, with his hands in his lap.

[blackwingcd-blog]

@destinedrose man I AM NOT OKAY

           “Oscar. Have you received good news?”

     The world was silent.  This young woman did not die alone at least, surrounded by those who loved them. The Mother approached and extended one hand towards them with a smile, as warm and genuine as a smile could possibly be. This person had fought bravely through a life that was full of different struggles, and fought valiantly. Their time to rest had come, time to leave behind the fighting, the struggling, the lies, the violence, the suffering, everything. Time to stand up and leave this bruised and battered body behind, it had served well and loyally until their last breath. The soul would make the last stretch on its own now.

    “Stand up, Oscar, I am here to bring you peace.” Such was the nature of the mother: she who would bring comfort, she who would console those who were tired of fighting, those whose souls were bleeding raw of a life that was too hard on them. Her touch was gentle, nurturing, meant to ease the pain of those who would pass on into eternity soon.

                     “Do not be afraid of me.” 

[goldenvelleityarchive-blog]

@destinedrose

           “Good afternoon, Lady Oscar!”

The foreigner who charmed the court was a bold woman, this Johanna of Tawaststjerna, a finnish noblewoman who, one day, appeared out of what felt like nowhere. Now, she pranced about as though this was her home, and something about her uncanny charms made her get away with it too, protected by her own sweetness and the grace of her Majesty, who seemed to have found a friend in the Finn. 

      This encounter in the Gardens was entirely a random one, though she had not actively sought anyone’s company, Lady Oscar, a most interesting case, was not an individual she had spoken to before - at least not in such a private setting. A few politely exchanged words for formality’s sake did not count in her opinion.

      “It’s a wonderful day for a walk in the gardens, is it not?” 

[edelweissmage]

@destinedrose

“Are you sure this is all right?” Vailintin steps out and twirls in their dress. The airy fabric floats upward as it spins with Vailintin’s movement. Despite the finery of the fabric and the intricate embroidery, the outfit is simple. Vailintin wears no jewelry or sash to denote their rank as Child of Spring, and their hair is braided up as it usually is.

“I feel a little underdressed when I stand next to you, Oscar.” Vailintin gestures to their guard, clothed in a fine tunic and sashes to indicate their rank. For a moment, Vailintin wonders if Oscar’s rank increased since Lady Isleen assigned them to guard Vailintin.

“I haven’t been to a ball before.” Vailintin tugs on their braid, their gaze darting around the room. Downstairs, the elves and their allies waltz together, drink fine wine, and mingle. Vailintin can hear their merriment even through the walls and floors of their room. “Shall I change? Do I look all right? Oh Oscar, what if someone wants to dance with me? What do I do?” 

[viiorels]

@destinedrose

Mihai is one of those people who simply can’t get stress out of his body through calm meditation or conversation. He needs to burn it off. It starts in the nape of his neck and spreads to his shoulders, down his arms and into his fingers like a rash. 

He’s dying to scratch it.

Armand isn’t allowed in the Hunters’ compound after dark, so most of his comrades took advantage of the Dauphin’s absence to actually get some work done instead of following him around like a crowd of unwilling sycophants. They signed up for double patrols on the wall and around Avignon, and others are preparing for tomorrow’s missions. 

Mihai heads to the training grounds to work off this itch. It’s completely empty in the crisp, autumn night air. He brought a light jacket to ward off the chill, but after a few minutes of sword practice, he’s too warm for it. Mihai takes it off and discards it over a nearby stool.

When he goes back to the center of the grounds, however, he sees an unfamiliar figure at the entrance. He tenses for but a brief moment until he spies their face as they draw closer towards the moonlight. Mihai recognizes them as one of Armand’s guards. He sympathizes with the prince’s guards; they often bear expressions similar to that of long-suffering eagles being harassed by a particularly fiendish pigeon: noble and elegant, but tired and exasperated.

“Good evening to you. I, uh, suppose you’re here for the same reason I am...?”

[vojvode]

confettiguts: 👀

👀

fukainoumi: but he bites :|

coward !!!

destinedrose: but… oscar’s perfect shoujo aesthetique… ;n;

Weak

ithilys: I'll f i g h t you!! let me like the posts in peace!! we're a shy people

H Y P E R  W E E N I E

[eritvita]

[eritvita]

continued from x ;

@destinedrose

Roland blinks rapidly, and scoffs and turns a heady pink. “I beg thy pardon,” he says openly. “But--- yea, dost thou still keep the fine glitter in the roots of thine hair--- but, verily, I find thee attractive.

“More than attractive: thou art a Rose of the Garden ne’er meant to be plucked, ne’er meant to be seen. An effervescent beauty hidden only the the glow of the supernatural nature, and I hath seen This oft. Thou art beautiful, Oscar, and I would only hope thou wouldst find me naught obtuse in such verse.” And Roland winks and sips his drink, champagne in champagne’s flute.