#oh hello!!

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL as Harry Castillo Materialists | ph. Atsushi Nishijima

[coffeeshib]

sending you a forhead kiss, have a lovely day ms shib

[connorjesup]

[thepallas]

"You... Remind me of someone... Hmm.." (trappeddemoness) //rules have been read

  “Oh? Would love you to elaborate on that, Darling.” her energy was enthralling.. reminded of his own, yet unfamiliar. How he hasn’t met her before? New connections were always exciting and most importantly - beneficial.

@trappeddemoness

[etwahlian]

@clairdxlune​

the maiden was restless from word of flame, of war, spreading its hold across the land of her origin (the orphanage, the place she had called home before her life was turned into that of demacia’s highest standards, luxury and privilege draping her just as easily as fine silks) ... the idea of that beautiful land; elegant magic whispering through every tree, every rock, so in tune with its lifeforce... sona dearly longed to feel less like a caged bird behind magic-draining demacian walls. considering the current upheaval behind those stone fortresses, however, she doubted such peace would be known any time soon. ionia’s fate, despite its great sadness in its conflict, demanded priority------for how could she, a mere performer, a mage deemed acceptable to show in public... to be adored and praised and how demacia thought mages should be; utterly silent.

she could fight those battles once she could rest easy that her aid could reach ionia in time. perhaps this was out of avoidance for the plight that now seeped into the most loyal of mages within demacia... but she wasn’t ready to face such a dilemma, that much was certain. a true demacian was she, yet the pleas for help grew louder and louder in light of her surrounding stone walls refusing to help those deemed too dangerous.

and traveling alone was no simple feat----the roads to ionia were treacherous, especially in light of noxian infiltration, conquerors roamed the hills and forests surrounding, seeking to stop supplies, seeking to cut off all circulation----to crush any aid sent, any hope. sona knew it would not be easy, but she knew she had to try. sitting idle in her dressing room, surrounded by peace, flowers, gifts of suitors and adoration from audiences that traveled far for her, for that serenity she offered, flowing upon grand stages, plucking at strings till spectators sighed and all was forgotten, all was misty and wide-eyed, numbness, a willing ignorance----these were not things a healer ( a supposedly forbidden MAGE ) should be doing during war upon so many people like herself.

in the light of the moon she then take a her gleaming mare from the stables, quiet in her dressing of her beloved equine, smoothing ornate reins, then fashioned etwahl at the horse’s right. Thankfully, the weightless instrument obeyed its tethered state, rather than fought at restraints that often, during her childhood, occurred in a test of its link to her. draped cloths, fabrics tied, the signature object of her fame was obscured----perhaps even to be mistaken for an elaborate bow when concealed. pleased with her work, she took upon her meager items for travel, wrapped her lengthy hair within a more suitable bun to cease any interference, and hoisted herself upon her dear companion. horseback riding was something almost all demacians, especially the wealthy, took to in their luxury. sona did so, and she made sure to do so while still in the elegance akin to etwahl’s carrying of her----upon a horse she remained in her fine dress, fabric light and flowing, thighs displayed with no worry, she so very enjoyed the freedom of being carried so powerfully. in her departure, sona nearly smiled at the delight, the adrenaline, but immediately quelled herself. according to her research, an outpost not far from demacia existed for funneling ionia relief--and would clear her safe passage. that was her goal.

she took off into the night in a gallop, and hoped, as she left the grand marble and stone walls of her home and its promise of safety, its promise of strength, justice, and morality... that she was doing the right thing.

swiftly, the maiden navigated through the trails leading from demacia----unfamiliar, yet she weaved, cutting through the forest upon a trail for merchants, supplies, that would surely reach her to her destination at the outpost. sona aimed to leave all proximity to her city before any private guards noticed her absence in the morning.

she flew,  for even a caged bird knew how to fly once given the wingspan.

by the cool dawn, low light kissing the horizon, sona could see the outpost and a sole man standing to await arrivals. slowing, she approached.

[a7estrellas]

PAUL MESCAL Cartier V&A Gala Dinner | ph. Charlie Gray

[dermondistaufgegangen]

the haunting of hill house, episode 1