#wc 501

[dawningardea]

A combination of snow-white hair and a navy scarf is something that would draw Alear's attention in even the thickest of crowds-- after all, she could never forget the visage of those who fought beside her through the most vicious battles of Elyos's war… and even though she knows that the Emblems won't remember her in this world, there's no way she could pass up the chance to get to know them all over again.

Emblem Micaiah is no different. No… Lady Micaiah, she should say. A quick jog is all it takes to catch up to her, Alear's voice ringing out above the commotion of everyone else.

"Oh, excuse me! Lady Micaiah, sorry to disturb you…!" By the time she falls into step with the other woman, there's a fondness and familiarity that settles into Alear's gaze; something she can't help but to show, even as she bows her head slightly in greeting. "I apologize for the sudden shouts! I just, uh…. I've heard some stories about you, and I wanted to introduce myself. I believe we're also heading out on the same expedition team, if I'm not mistaken!"

"I'm Alear, of Elyos. If there's anything I can help you with, please let me know…!" To repay all of the times she'd been saved before, but also to form a new bond.

All of the seasickness that has managed to evade Micaiah for the first half of the voyage has at last descended to punish her hubris. She finds herself waddling above-deck at a random hour of the day in as steady of a posture as she could, gaze fixed on the horizon to anchor her sense of balance which has begun to lurch with the ship itself. For all the reading and studying she did on maritime travel prior to boarding, it seems that nothing can prepare one for raw immersion itself. An immense admiration for full-time seafarers grows exponentially in her with every swing of the keel, and she makes a mental note to express it personally the next time she visits Daein's mariner's guild at Oribes Bay. Seriously, how on earth did humanity endure this for hundreds of years, and likely hundreds more to come?

Such aimless thoughts course through her head—anything to distract her from the nausea rushing her in waves—when a burst of blue and red enters her vision along with an upbeat friendly voice. The unexpected greeting jolts her out of her stupor and leaves naught but one immediate thought at the forefront of her dazed mind:

"Oh, wow. Your hair is... incredible."

The realization that her musings have audibly slipped from her tongue arrives a beat too late. A horrified gasp quickly follows, "O-Oh my goodness, I sincerely apologize for my rudeness! I do not know what came over me. I assure you that I did not mean any offense, Miss Alear."

The burning embarrassment of the situation shocks some of the seasickness out of her, brain fog clearing just enough to properly dissect the words of the woman before her.

Elyos. She has vaguely heard of the land before, and has since made the connection between it and the tales of Emblems and rings thanks to the few other Elyosians she's interacted with—that would explain the similar recognition of her by Alear. She bows her head to mirror the other (with no small amount of regret as her stomach protests) alongside a warm smile of her own.

"Ah! You hail from Elyos. There is still much for me to learn about your homeland, but I am truly honored to be known among your people—and a little flustered, haha!"

"And indeed, I do recall your name next to mine in the team roster. I look forward to working with you and getting to know you better! And likewise, I would be happy to give my support in any way you may need."

Micaiah's gaze darts around before she leans farther in and whispers, a hint of bashfulness sparkling in her eyes.

"And, um, about my comment earlier... I really do admire your hair, Miss Alear. I'd like to try dyeing mine similarly some day, but instead of being known as the Silver-Haired Maiden, I might become something like... the Bisexual-Haired Maiden instead. That sure would be interesting..."

[idsuran-blog]

climb.

@idpuck produce project episode two in which suran has put her sneaking skills to good use

it feels like a lifetime ago that suran first met paris - puck - as heroine’s song suran, but she supposes a lot of things feel awfully distant at this point.  she remembers galaxy’s debut, something fresh and bright in the midst of a landscape dominated by imperial and olympus- undoubtedly moodier acts. their debut had been a stark contrast to the other boy group entering the scene - atlas, with their hip hop and vigor, with all the fervor of furious young adults. galaxy hadn’t taken off then, but truthfully suran had never really understood why not.  their songs were catchy, dances and choreography legitimately impressive, and their performances brought something new to the table that not many others were doing. 

they became casual friends, in the way that idols promoting at the same time often do. adn in that same way, when suran was locked up in obscurity, they drifted apart a bit. msg had infinitely more resources and, further more, the power to use them. so galaxy continued a steady climb as suran’s beloved her.oine sank slowly, slowly downward. after that it had been an endless string of instagram stories and pictures. moody and suggestive and a little bit alarming on occasion. whatever it took to push her forward, to remind people that she - that her.oine - existed. it was working too, in small ways, and it was at least a scheme to take up the endless hours of free time spent unpromoted and unused, while her youth languished, slipping away like water between her fingers. 

she sighs. 

here she is desperate for debut number three. all she wants is a chance to show that she has talents. that she’s not just her father’s daughter, that she’s not just that strange but pretty girl on instagram. this is supposed to be her chance to show she has real skill. she’s a well rounded performer and she’s worked so hard for that. and yet all they can talk about now is her chanel deal. as if she hadn’t been waiting five years for an opportunity like that. oh, its not fair, is it? what’s not fair is being put through the wringer like this again. what’s not fair is five years of uncertainty, only to find out her company has closed through an article on the internet the week before it goes live. to find out it’s been bought out - she’s been bought, like a commodity. 

at least paris can understand some of that, which becomes the reason she’s sent him a text tonight, to meet her in the run down practice room on the second floor, beside the janitors closet. it’s not got good lighting so its designated off limits. suran confidently ignores the sign that proclaims this, collapses into place regardless, puts a soothing playlist of lo-fi hip hop on her phone and lets it fill the air until she hears footsteps, pushes upright to grin sleepy towards the door. “hey, man.” she drawls easily, “long time no see, center boy.”