#orios

[wetfluffycat]

[zeiteldraws]

I drew my oc because I'm trash and I needed some self indulgent art. (Yes he's a jojo oc and hes my son)

Also a crappy doodle of his stand. It's like the size of a small dog and spits out pocket dimension rooms c:

[asktheneverfairies]

Helios/Orren ideas:

Orren is the most classically stoic mining fairy we’re introduced to, and Helios is the most self-obsessed light fairy. This is far from a match made in heaven, but my greedy heart loves the character development potential!

SO we start with Helios and Orren meeting. They don’t really pay attention to one another at first because they’re each absorbed in their own worlds, but then their mutual talent friends just keep introducing them to each other. Helios mistakes Orren’s name for Orion, “like the constellation?” and Orren is like “...No.”

They start to have a real distaste for each other because of this forced interaction they keep having with someone they consider so opposite to themselves in the first place. Orren thinks Helios is absurdly interested in his own appearance and is annoying, while Helios thinks Orren is ridiculously unconcerned with his style and has a boring personality (pun?)

At some point they have to spend more time together, because the firefly and light fairy availability is thin and Helios is assigned to accompany the miners on an expedition. He keeps getting distracted by his reflection in gems, making the whole thing very difficult, but he complains that he’s missing out on the fairy dance because of the mining so they’re both unhappy.

Orren thinks the whole concept of going to the Fairy Dance and flying/dancing around and dressing up to socialize is extra, which is partly why the miners always go underground during full moon nights--to avoid it. In a conversation about this, Helios manages to convince him to attend the next moon’s dance whether he ends up enjoying it or not, just make an attempt, and in return he does his lighting-the-way-through-the-tunnels job perfectly without getting distracted once, leading Orren to believe he was totally faking it earlier and is more clever than assumed.

This is like Rosetta’s Daring Day where they each got one day to do what the other wants, right? It’s good. Only they weren’t exactly friends before, just acquaintances who made a deal because they got annoyed with the other’s attitude.

The month starts going by with Orren perfectly happy to forget about the whole thing, but because the rest of the miners were there when he agreed to push the mining expedition so they could go to the Fairy Dance and Helios keeps winking at him whenever they happen to see each other around the kingdom, he can’t. Helios is really looking forward to it and decides to look his very best for this particular dance.

Orren literally doesn’t own nice clothes, and many of the mining fairies who have decided a night of festivity couldn’t hurt are having trouble finding things to wear, too. Enter the sewing fairies who are gracious enough to provide some lovely garments last minute. Orren in normal-fairy wear is as akin to cleaning-up as other talents wearing especially fancy party gowns tbh, and he DOES IT.

When this danged group of mining fairies walks into the party, classy and refined, jaws drop and conversations stop. Rosetta probably passes out or goes weak in the knees. The light fairies are especially excited. The mining fairies are still mostly apathetic, but it’s not as bad as they really thought it would be, so it’s considered a success.

Meanwhile Helios attracts Orren’s attention and tries to get him to admit that looking good, getting attention, and dancing is fun. Orren steadfastly denies it, and Helios is getting really bothered that this stubborn fairy won’t approve of the lifestlye--but why does he care so much for his respect anyway?

Helios points out that Orren isn’t even trying to enjoy the party to begin with, and that having fun has most to do with WANTING to have fun, so why hasn’t he seen him chatting or dancing yet? Orren says that no one has asked him to dance--and he hasn’t asked anyone because he doesn’t like to invite conversation--so Helios is basically like “We’re already making conversation, so you should dance with me and see how fun it can be.”

Then they dance, of course, and for his build and lack of experience, Orren is not bad. I mean, he’s still a fairy after all, and they’re naturals. As Helios expected, Orren had fun, even though he stated so without a change of tone.

They leave that night with some things to consider on both sides, like why Orren felt so alive dancing with Helios and not like they were rivals at all, and why Helios feels like he might care about having Orren’s attention more than he realized.

At breakfast the next day they make eye contact in the tearoom and a hint of a smile passes on Orren’s face, which blows Helios away and has him overthinking it the rest of the day--like did he really see what he thought he saw, and if he did see what he thought he saw, did it mean anything? And if it meant something, what did it mean? For a record amount of time, Helios isn’t concerned with his own smile but someone else’s.

Sparkle and Glory wonder why their brother is acting so strange, and get to questioning him about what’s happened to change his tune recently, and they eventually wheedle enough out of him to realize that he possibly has a crush. Sparkle tries telling him how he needs to proceed, and Glory cries that she doesn’t have a boyfriend so it’s unfair. (don’t worry, it’ll be her turn soon.)

Helios reminds them that he does NOT have a boyfriend and isn’t even sure Orren likes him as a person, let alone a love interest. Though he might be the only fairy in Pixie Hollow who’s not attracted to him! (mhm)

Meanwhile, the mining fairies are recovering from their night of excess and some of them have incorporated pieces of their high fashion into their ordinary wardrobes. Orren doesn’t talk about his feelings, naturally, but when he saw Helios in the tearoom that morning he remembered the joy of their dancing and it showed on his face, so he’s a bit concerned about that--does that mean Helios is going to gloat forever? But it’s okay, really, because the thought of Helios’s smirk doesn’t bother him like it used to.

...Except now that it’s not being directed at him anymore. In fact, Helios seems to be avoiding it, as if after finally proving his point to Orren, his interest in their uneasy acquaintance was lost totally. And that suddenly bugs him, as much as he can bother himself to be bugged by things.

Now things are weird and tense for the opposite reason they were before, when they didn’t care for each other and knew the other didn’t either. They both care a little too much for comfort and don’t know if the other does at all.

Over the next stretch of time, Helios stops paying as much attention to himself as he used to, and Orren starts paying more attention than ever before. Precious talks to Fira about the subtle change she’s noticed in Orren, Sparkle and Glory talk to Fira about the change in Helios, Fira puts two and two together and just laughs with delight.

......

I’m gonna level with you...

I wrote this much a few days ago but couldn’t get back online for real until now...and I’ve lost steam and where I was going with this, so it’s just gonna cut off there. I’m sorry for the inconvenience!

[wally-b-feed]

de lla vic orios

[gavbon]

Speedlink Sicanos RGB Mouse & Orios RGB Mousepad Review

Speedlink have today sent over the Sicanos RGB mouse and Orios RGB mousemat for us to review. Let's see if they are worthy of your hard-earned money

Speedlink isn’t a name that is commonly referred to when talking about peripherals, however, they have been producing some stunning examples and today we take a look at the Sicanos RGB Gaming Mouse and the Orios RGB Gaming Mousepad, yes you heard that right, an RGB gaming mousepad! More below… Speedlink Sicanos RGB: Specifications

USB gaming mouse with RGB lighting

7 ergonomically placed…

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[deathstroke-wilson]

[cazablanca6268-blog]

For @kayseraburlyq #Orioficionado #orios (at Wegmans)

[strawnillas]

You Are Not The Only One

a vent writing of sorts+warm-up. its of a warrior woman in a mass fight/kill arena, i suppose?? i didn’t think much of the setting, wanted to focus on the fights.

of course, there is blood.

time taken: 35 minutes??? give or take idk

-

Her breaths are laboured, hard and heavy. Her arms ache and tingle from the effort of holding her weapon up—a brass staff, worn and bent slightly in the middle.

She doesn’t know where her chest plate has gone to ever since the clasps snapped. Blood is dripping from her waist, trickling down her thighs. Her armour is mismatched and missing pieces here and there from the beatings she endured, but she has to go on.

She has to go on.

A war cry from her left startles her into motion, a sword missing her by inches as she spins to her right. She hits the man on the chin with the end of her staff hard, shocking him, before sending him stumbling back with a kick to his gut.

His weapon is discarded onto the sand as he lands into a lump.

She doesn’t hear the joyful cries of the spectators—her mind too focused on staying alive.

Running forward, her staff held in a deathly grip, she avoids two women fighting their way to her, and jumps over the fallen lifeless body of another.

She halts to a stop as an arrow flies past her, hitting one of the women fighting earlier just as she claims victory over the other one with a sword through her chest. They both topple to the ground, unmoving.

Another arrow embeds itself into the sand, so close to her feet, and she starts moving again. Her vision, though distorted by the strands of her long hair, searches for the archer intent on taking her down.

She runs and runs, her body moving solely on adrenaline, her mind jumping from one survival method to another. Her eyes search, and search, and she doesn’t see the flying arrow before it’s too late.

It lands in her left arm, and her cry of pain is the only thing she hears.

Tears mix with her sweat and dirt on her face. She would take cover for a moment if she could, but the ground of the arena is open, and there is no place to stop and rest.

She rips the arrow out of her arm and runs again.

For a moment she wonders if the arrow is poisoned, but she will deal with that later. Or not deal with it at all, if she’s lucky.

Flitting in between other fighters, other gladiators, other warriors, other prisoners, and other criminals, she spots a hooded figure with a bow running parallel to her—an arrow already knocked, pulled back, and ready to be let go.

She dives for the dirt to avoid the shot, her arm flaring on fire from the earlier arrow, and quickly makes her way towards her opponent.

Alarmed upon being found out, her assailant runs away from her. Undisturbed by this, she rips out a knife she sees protruding out of a dead man’s head, and without a drop of hesitance throws it towards them.

The knife punctures the hood, and the figure falls over the other bodies.

She doesn’t take a moment of celebration though. She can’t take a moment to breathe.

Another war cry echoes in her ears, and before she knows it she’s sent tumbling across the ground from a hit to her face.

Her staff flies out of her hands, and she has no other weapon to fend herself with from the oncoming onslaught of fists and kicks. She can’t see who’s attacking her, but every hit chokes her, every blast of pain paralyzes her and makes her scream.

A violent stomp on her hand smashes her right wrist, and white hot searing fire blinds her vision. Her voice doesn’t function anymore. Her throat is too dry and overused to make any other sound.

Numbly tying to pull herself out of her suffering, she spots at the blackened corners of her eyes her staff, and desperately reaches out to it with her left hand.

Her fingers grab hold of it tightly, and just as she takes a kick to her stomach, she whips the attacker across the face with her staff.

The other warrior stumbles, not by a lot, but enough for her to painstakingly raise herself to her knees. She brings her right arm close to her chest to ease the violent shaking from the shattered bones inside.

Her staff is warm in her left as she glares at the other warrior, much bigger, and much taller than she is. Her heart sinks a little, but her determination keeps her gaze strong.

The warrior glares at her as well, as if offended she dared to live. As if appalled that someone like her is still fighting and breathing, while many other greater fighters had failed.

She knows she might not make it out of here alive.

But she’ll at least god damn try.

Spitting out blood at the other’s feet, she leaps forward and swings.