la symphonie.

Talia Wells. Crowned Regent. She is neither pink nor pale, And she will never be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine. She loves me all that she can, And her ways to my ways resign; But she was not made for any man, And she will never be all mine.

[jonaswpoetry]

Depths & shallows

Dare I dream of some

slightest breeze taking away

this winter slack water? My

—

depths & shallows both

are too coldly prepared

to swallow even corpses

—

with not a single ripple

quivering across the body

shared — they stand serene

[taliawells]

rinaxjaguar​:

“ don’t worry, I have the smuggle part covered.”  and free of expenses or else she would need to have a serious conversation with her cousin afonso. wannabe dealer. what is the use of having the means without the brain? “ feys are no fun here at south dakota. some of my oldest friends besides my pack are fey. best partners in crime gotta tell you.”  talia´s attempt at evading the question was cute. just like when her father asks rina when she was finding a mate and having a few cubs. after decades she ran out of excuses and now simply redirects the conversation in a not so subtle way. " that’s true, but I wasn´t going to mess with my chi or whatever the hell it is that the teacher calls it.“ yoga classes at the local gym seemed a good idea since she had to find better ways to control her  chaotic energy without bringing attention upon herself.  ”what kind of motorcycle are you going to get?“ the weyr imagined talia dressed as a biker. a laugh echoed in the cottage.” picturing it in my head and damm we would look hot as hell, like a scene out of a movie.I have an extra tight short leopard dress that would make it perfect. you can play the badass biker and I´m the hot bimbo.“

--

“then I will have the drinking part covered,” talia affirmed with another sip. “I’ll take your word for it.” Friendship had been one of the newer oddities talia had the pleasure to investigate. she had left behind the gilded life of social climbers and poised niceties given to her based solely on her status. she was known in the farthest, deepest corners of every ocean yet could not deny she reveled in newly found anonymity. her truest friends had been scaled or shelled and found in warm, shallow tide pools. oceanic creatures had been traded for human ones, and everything she had yet to discover. her knowledge of other species was an ongoing learning, but a study in genuine connection offered remained a curiosity. one of the strongest was rina. “If that loftiness suits you, more power to it.” talia had her own inner fire, though was undecided how a grounding would suit her. “I don’t know yet, perhaps we’ll have to go see which one you look the best riding on back of.” she offered a wink. “definitely something powerful. maybe even one that purrs.” 

[kyloren]

There’s this expectation for actresses to look good all the time, which is not what being an actress should be. It should be about playing a role. So why should all actresses have to be stick-thin and look beautiful all the time? Every director is like: ‘We really have to fall in love with this character.’ Why does theaudience have to fall in love with her? What if she’s a serial killer? F**k that s**t.

Sophie Turner for Net-A-Porter, photographed by Yelena Yemchuk | May 2019

[taliawells]

rinaxjaguar​:

where: dell rapids, rina´s cottage,

when:  very late at night.

who:  @taliawells​

after a couple of caipirinhas  she had to commit the atrocity of replacing good old brazilian cachaça with rum bought at a store. catarina made a mental note to ask for it to be shipped from home along the other not so legal products that found their way to south dakota. “ tastes fake without the real ingredients but will have to do."  momentary sadness was replaced by a big smile. rina never quite understood the expression crying over spilled milk but she would feel sad over a bottle of cachaça. ” is it too sweet for you? my usual drinking buddy is a fey and likes sugar, besides he does need some sweetness to balance his pissy self.“  like the big cat she was, rina kicked her shoes and got herself comfortable on the sofa. ” get comfy talia, it’s time for some girls talk. I can start…so last night I picked a dude at a bar but once he opened his mouth I had to control the urge to smash a beer bottle in his head. fucking ruined my mood.“

--

“You’ll have to show me how to make it sometime, and I’ll see if there’s any at the bar I can smuggle out for you.” In her own mixology endeavours, she was never opposed to letting star ingredients sing. There was a delicate balance of flavors with the simple ones and little room for error. There was a brightness to the drink, much like the one that had made it. More complicated and layered cocktails could turn murky, and the same could be said for people. “Feys are an .... interesting bunch.” Delicate. Flighty. “This will tame my bite, don’t you worry,” she amused herself with offering a slight smirk as she sank into a chair. Though she could be vicious when warranted, bared teeth were more befitting of her present company. “We’re girls, we’re talking,” she demurred with a shrug. “You know what I’ll say — you should have done it. They almost always deserve it.” Aiming to deflect from her own follies for a bit longer, Talia continued. “Do it, say the word, and I’ll whisk you away on a motorcycle. I think I am going to get one, after all.” 

[rp-meme-glaceon]

For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory.

[taliawells]

GEMINI ; twins. june second. Lucius Belmonte && Ariadne Du Plessis

I’ll see you in my dreams if you don’t see me first.

[taliawells]

alexkovar‌:

Indeed Talia was right, but, the last thing Alex wanted to do was to cause the gym to get some attention because she killed someone and honestly, she could do it herself while the guy was in a dark alley and all that will remind of him is his face on a missing poster but, the less Talia knew the better. “It was great, I didn’t learn anything new but it’s always good to train your body.” There was a warm smile on her face. “I hope the man didn’t interrupt your workout in any way or I can go grab him right now and we can chop his head off together.” She chuckled.

Abandoning tact and no longer feigning the emotions of seeking to be looked upon in a favorable light had been incredibly freeing. It was seldom a figurehead could claim such anonymity but Talia had settled into the role of ‘aloof force to be reckoned with’ she had written for herself quite nicely. She nodded along as Alex spoke. There was a rawness coursing through her, and sometimes strength wasn’t the main focus. “Not at all. Today was about control, though I suppose more so in the case of the control it took not to bash his head in with a dumbbell,” she offered lightly. “Name a seedy bar with a dark corner, and I’m all yours. Or a less seedy one if you’ve got nothing going on tonight ??” 

[taliawells]

blairkrasimir‌:

It never ceased to unnerve him how wrong it seemed to meet another meyr in these circunstancies. Almost as if they announced to the world how wrong Blair’s very presence there was too. And yet, he couldn’t help the feeling of recognition, understanding. Something you can only share with an equal of sorts. But was she, though? An equal of any level? Yes, she was a meyr. And sure, one of great interest to him at the moment. The question to be answered here, then, was whether she could offer more than just the same species. More than the feeling of recognition when, in reality, they hardly seemed to be alike in any other way. 

“And here we are, indeed,” Blair let a half smile raise his lips, eyes going from her own to the people surrounding them. Half of him questioned the choice of place and time to have this conversation, and the other half wondered if there was, at all, a right answer to the previous question. Maybe they would be heard. Or maybe their conversation wouldn’t be worth their own time, so who would want to hear it anyway? He only knew his curiosity to be far too sharpened by her presence. The coincidence of so many meyrs in the surface frankly too much for him to swallow. Kam did seem to be around because Kam. And Nimiane… well, there was no figuring her out. In the end, Talia was the most reasonable choice of subject. The one he didn’t know, wasn’t involved with in any way, and could potentially have information he would want to have. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he took a deep breath, eyes now fixed on her. There were no cracks, no small places to poke, no wounds visible. He couldn’t bargain with pain, nor could he see violence as being adequate in the situation. The one thing left to explore was pleasure. A possibility as remote as any when she was the goal. It had been some years since he was this clueless around someone. It both unsettled and amused him. To be challenged. To want more than he probably would get. “Surprise me, Talia. You look like the kind of woman who can figure out other’s choice of poison. At least, the ones we drink, anyway…” because, in the end, Blair had to know if she could see more of him than he could of her. Was he the only one playing with a puzzle or was she too? 

Talia couldn’t help but offer an amused half-smile, though her eyes gleamed with the rest of what she didn’t offer fully. She didn’t intend to present herself as an enigma, and certainly didn’t enthuse herself or others with the notion of being something to figure out. She had her layers and depths, as she was sure most beings had some semblance of. Her role as Regent, as a future Matriarch, had come with the burden of curating herself for public consumption. She had never belonged to herself and had settled with that knowledge, but coming to the surface had offered her a chance to breathe. 

She was hiding in plain sight if one only knew what to look for. There was enough cloaked precautions to provide a vague layer of safety. Aethalia Nirem became Talia Wells -- a panicked stab in the dark at a proper surname. She herself ran deep, though she was more of a bottomless abyss and it took considerable effort to draw from. 

“What brings you here?” It was a loaded question, and one she would certainly be asked in return. Talia knew why she had been called to the surface, as had the others of her sort. She had been asked, but otherwise, it was a dangerous game to play. Too long out of the water? You simply couldn’t return or risk life and limb. It had been a pleasant happenstance to stumble upon her exbetrothed, but would Vik have chosen South Dakota if not by circumstance? Had the Society plucked the meyr before her from the depths, as well? Kam had chosen this, and cordial kingdoms had landed her a cordial residence. Talia contented herself with Kam’s company. Such a spitfire matched Talia’s own intensity and spark, though Talia tended to maintain an aloof exterior. She could burn cold to the touch. 

Talia pushed off of the bar and took pointed steps backward. If he was going to look, she might as well provide a clear picture. “A virgin. Got it.” Her tone was light, jovial, though a jaw clenched against despite a smile. She rarely let herself indulge in being tested, and testing in return. If they were going to play, so be it. Talia let a discerning eye rake over Blair’s form. She seemed to be well-matched. Talia fetched a champagne flute and made quick work of acquainting the golden liquid with absinthe. “A Death in the Afternoon. Upscale with an edge,” Talia presented it. “How did I do?”

[taliawells]

●︎ when: april 17, 2020 ●︎ where: vik’s apartment, sherman lofts. ●︎ with: @viknaerth​

She never liked being touched.

She didn’t care for a lot of things, but at every turn, Vik was the exception. Back below the waves at court, Talia had kept Vik close, albeit at arm’s length. he had a dedicated spot at her side -- dedicated out of duty and by Vik's own desires. If it was to be occupied, it was to be occupied by Vik alone. At times it was to keep guard of her own space yet others offered a guiding & grounding tether. Little touches and taps were read between the lines, unspoken questions and answers volleyed between the pair. they otherwise went unnoticed in their careful choreography of empty embraces and chaste kisses. Talia never wanted to take what was offered, choosing to reserve deeper actions should Vik be gifted deeper affections elsewhere.

....and they were gifted elsewhere. 

Talia awoke with a languid stretch and let her eyes flicker open to the dimness of Vik’s bedroom. It had stopped being so jarring, unsettling waking up here, even if only felt for a split second. It was almost comforting. Endearing. Almost. Some hesitancy was still to be found, but she was doing her best to banish it from their shared warmth. She was draped around Vik’s form; her body a pale crescent shield protecting his. She let her gaze bloom into focus and watched the slow rise and fall of Vik’s chest. Talia shifted slightly. Did she dare to revel in this dream? A tentative hand crept forward and let a blond strand of hair silk through her fingers as she brushed it from the visage before her. A small smile overtook her features as she slowly propped herself up, though she let her fingers lace with Vik’s for a brief moment as she lingered. A small peck was offered as a temporary farewell to the sleeping form as she made a move to extract herself.

[yennerys]

sophie turner photographed by john russo, june 2019.

[taliawells]

alexkovar‌:

It seems like one of her regulars came to the rescue before Alex could do anything, if Talia didn’t trust someone in her gym than Alex isn’t going to argue with her. “Yes he was.” Alex said before the man could say anything, a low growl spoke. “You make a scene in my gym, you can get the fuck out.” She added, watching the man turn around and walk away, her receptionist seemed finally calm as the stranger left the place. “You both okay?” Her worker nodded and Alex went to Talia, “I’m sorry for this, I’ll have them banned and they won’t dare step foot in my gym unless they want me to bite their heads clean off.”

Talia uncurled her fists, white-knuckled in an attempt to keep them subdued. She always hung on the precipice of rage but tried to keep it on a leash. A temper didn’t serve her well, but strong reactions and convictions did. She was unwavering -- as was a low tolerance. She let out a pent up huff, not particularly aimed at anyone, but let herself ease up as she watched his form disappear through the door. “No need to apologize, though biting their heads off is a PR Nightmare I think we could all get behind, given the circumstances.” She gave a small shrug -- it would be understandable, really. “How was your workout?”

[taliawells]

alexkovar‌:

●︎ when: april 3rd, 2020 ●︎ where: alex’s local gym, sioux falls ●︎ with: anyone

“And stay down.” Alex smirked at her defeated opponent in the boxing ring, one might try to deny is as long as they want but nothing feels better than knowing you’ve succeeded in something, the rush of adrenaline is addicting and especially with the knowledge that once again you’ve cemented yourself as the top woman in the food chain. Alex took off her gloves and went to grab a towel, wiping the sweat off her forehead as she went to the reception to grab her cellphone, she was waiting to hear from her siblings, but as she closed neat she could hear her receptionist clearly arguing with someone else. “Hey, hey. What’s the problem here?”

“Get.your.hand.off.of.her.if.you.still.want.your’s.attached.or.so.help.me.god.” A threat through clenched teeth was ushered. The redhead gave a quirk of her brow was raised to question compliance. Dark tipped nails were coiled around a barbell that she set down with just a bit too much force. She stepped forward in a subtle challenge as he stepped away. “Haven’t we all learned not to put things where they don’t belong?” Talia tended to stick to herself and was about to replace an earbud when another voice spoke. “Nothing, nothing. The creep was just getting ready to leave, right??”

[brittsmemes]

Send 💭 + a topic and my muse will tell you what they think about it.

[taliawells]

blairkrasimir‌:

where: bacchus. who: talia wells.

It was quite familiar to Blair. The trap so well built that walking in seemed only reasonable. He had seen his people lay it out countless times before, watched as humans sank and never came back to their feet. It was unsettling. Dangerous. Interesting. And all of it could be said about both Bacchus and meyr that worked there. At this point, limits seemed rather blurred. But Blair soldiered on, as he often did when the rope was given to him. He couldn’t remember one single time he didn’t tie it around his neck. After all, the art of self-sabotage was one of many details, carefully developed throughout the years, deeply cultivated. No one could deny him the pleasure of being his very own executioner, that much was certain.

And as he walked through the entrance, making a straight line to the bar, it did feel like this time around there was no avoiding the meyr, regardless of what surrounded them. Third time was definitely the charm. For there had to be an explanation to what she was doing this deep into the country, far from any court or sea. He knew he had his own. And if mother dearest still had any say in his life, her words about meyrfolk in the surface and his ignorance about it would be infinite. A possibility Blair wasn’t quite ready to confront. The more he knew about the bartender, was the less he heard from the matriarch. An arrangement with no flaws whatsoever. Pure perfection.

The only problem was getting her to talk. So Blair sat down in front of her, taking her every move, every line of expression in. She was a fortress. There was no denying it. “So, are we gonna pretend that this is perfectly normal, or are we going to admit there’s a limit to how far our ignorance can go?” and he smiled, his best charming smile, as if beauty and charisma could conquer the world, even when he knew the woman serving drinks wasn’t ordinary. Even if he felt, at the same time he stared her down, that she could probably see right through his little tricks. More often than not, there was no charming your own kind into doing anything. A lesson to be learned and a rope to be tied. Shame he didn’t care about either. “I’m Blair, by the way.”

Sure as the sand meets the sea, it had only been a matter of time until a certain pair of eyes would meet her own once more. In truth, Talia usually took little notice of those that filtered in and out of Bacchus. It held time and its patrons captive, robbing them of hours that bloomed and withered. It was cast in a vague, neon glow. A bar’s dimness concealed many things people wished to turn a blind eye towards, yet illuminated pallid faces in a grim light when caught at the right angle in a garish flicker of the lights. Moments of clarity were to be found poking through the thick haze. 

Watching reality strike was a favored thing Talia had found on the job. It was akin to watching someone come up for air — little did they know their lungs were burning. A whole demeanor could change on the turn of a dime. It was up to them to cling to that clarity, to wade through the current trying to drag them back under. Many surrendered themselves back to their vices, be it their own personal demons and doings. Sometimes it was easier to attempt to drown whatever plagued them, but Talia held the knowledge they would only stay buried for so long. Things would always find a way to the surface, always find a way to confront their victim. 

Things beneath the surface of their inky realm have washed ashore, be it a fond & corporeal ghost of her past or saccharinely barbed letters from her own matriarch. Talia had deferred the rigidity required of her in court. She had left it beachside as she extracted herself from the waves, left its bones to become bleached in the sun. She had acquired a sense of freedom and reveled in the anonymity land had to offer. Talia could draw a lustful gaze when she sought it, but she had let preconceived notions drift away into the ether. She was as unbothered as she allowed herself to be. She was as unbothered as others allowed her to be.

Aethalia Nirem had been pulled from the sea by the Cerulean Society, but she could not be certain if the same could be said for another meyr floating about town. They had come face to face twice prior. An innate otherness had sparked down her spine in recognition and the same feeling surged and swelled as he poised himself in front of her. Talia gave a barracuda’s smile as knowing her depths wouldn’t be so easy. “You know as well as I that this isn’t — and yet, here we are.” She gave a languid shrug. The whys of things could be hashed out later. “I’m Talia. What can I get to make this worth your while?” Better yet, what he could he offer to make it worth hers?

[taliawells]

astartemyers‌:

where: amarna nightclub, rapid city

when: night 

who: open

the last couple of months traveling between juneau, alaska and south dakota exhausted her mentally. never physically, her body felt very little nowadays. but more often than not, the mind was the prison of the body. she was both avoiding certain imbeciles and missing parts of her soul. wrecked beyond repair, astarte was fighting to keep what was left of her sanity intact. like the queen of denial she was, the vampyr kept it all inside. bottled up. hidden from sight and from the ones that would capitalize on her weakness. let them try and she would make an example out of them. sending a message was all about timing. from time to time, it was useful to make people remember that the blood queen of the east wasn´t a tale. she walked right besides them, but was far more civilized. bloodbaths and murder sprees were bad publicity. and she was all about marketing done right.  amarna was another of her strategies.

 a nightclub was the perfect place to see and be seen. plus the amount of information intoxicated people shared was astonishing. playing with their minds and planting suggestions was entertaining. and one of the favorite hobbies of her entourage. humans and supernatural alike weren´t immune to manipulation. while others visited her nightclub with the intention of talking with the first chairman of the high council without the proper procedures and formalities.  most of them just wanted to unwind and be themselves. amarna was know for satisfying every whim of the supernatural clients. humans had their memories erased by the vampyrs that handles security. astarte runs a well built machine. or better yet, her entourage does. after all, this place was their playground and like every mother she only steps in when her children misbehave.

“ you can take a seat, I don’t bite that hard.” she said to the newcomer. “ besides i’m more interested in tequila right now. one of the only things i envy about humans is their ability to get drunk.”

The regents had been tasked with finding another of their sort, but Aethalia Nirem has taken a penchant to discover things more suited to her fancy. She had found someone long lost. Lost to the sea, lost to the kingdom, but not someone she’d be inclined to let slip away once more. The closeness she longed to keep him at was still being explored, though Talia had found she was not above living a magpie existence. She was a moth drawn to the flicker of beauty, to the flicker of something shining and captivating. Be it the people she chose to pluck from the mundane and allow into her world, or the memories and strong cocktails she crafted for and with them, she stitched her days and whims together as she saw fit. 

Some days it was a dull needle, threading through monotony and tediousness she longed to forgo. Other days it was sharp and as pointed as her words, swift and barbed. She warred with her head and her heart -- never quite sure which one to root for in a particular moment. Her curiosity had brought her out of her usual places. She had learned to leave expectations to the wayside. Her life had been spent defying and evading them, and life was to be lived. 

The redhead dropped onto an empty barstool when a voice spoke. “I wouldn’t trade a thing for the speed it takes them to get there if their level of fragility comes with it,” Talia offered idly. “I don’t think they know how flimsy they are.”

[taliawells]

viknaerth‌:

“That makes perfect sense to me.” To ask for anything more from her would have been belligerent on his part. For Talia to offer the idea that she liked him plainly and clearly left Vik rather taken, happily over-encumbered by avocados. 

Did he have a type? Her hair was silk but eyes like Medusa, turning Vik to stone at her leisure; rigid and trying to recover from the content of the question. 

Aethalia Nirem would and always had been his type. Composed, strong-willed and the first woman to ever wield reddened locks that only every left Vik feeling weak in a most welcome way. She’d sun herself in the tidepools making nice with the neighbors til her shoulders freckled. And he would burn blush just trying to peer over rock clusters for a chance to watch her. They’d return back home, she radiant as ever while Vik was near charred. They laughed together, cried together and worked together. Their we was much more of an us, an intimate embrace between two hesitant people. To have a type at all was to regard Talia and then to dismiss all those who weren’t Talia.   

“I do have a thing for self-awareness. Being unapologetically self has always been incredibly attractive to me.” And he’d seen that from her, the slices through the thin veil of her courtly duties, the glances that spoke of wants beyond prissy events. Talia would always be the most powerful person he’d ever met, even if he met divinity themself. Gods knew nothing of what she’d been through and deities were just embued, they knew nothing of earning their place. The syren platelets in his blood boiled hot, rioting for fairness. They culled and turned away their own to manage pure seas and ruined those who threatened the ocean to live in a harmonic melody. To fight, to war and to win; she was all the sea could ask for. And he? A pitiful excuse for a proud syren. 

Vik looked to his owner and then to the cat. “Cat, I doubt I’d be fit to name her, I think she’d refuse me.” He looked down at the produce and knew that he needed to make himself useful. Cat’s bright eyes didn’t waver from their new guest, moving to sit upright in front of Talia; a sign of respect or even just acknowledgment that Vik had never been important enough to receive. The hand offered was all she needed to cozy the top of her head into Talia’s palm. “I’ll make you something.” Vik wasn’t sure if it was the shock or the need to be a decent host that compelled him but he turned on his heels and made for the kitchen. 

Talia offered a grave nod of her head as she diverted her attention back towards the small creature. She vanished an almost imperceptible pursing of lips as she locked her eyes with a pair so similar to her own. The gaze was equal parts defiant and curious ⁠— two things that counted against A Crowned Head, but two things she had little qualms of trying to twist to her advantage. Self was such a loaded word. Such a loaded idea. A loaded notion. So much of it was tied to a name. 

Their language strung vowels together like pearls. Chosen, cultivated. Beautiful things strung together into something more desirable as a sum versus the parts. Aethalia Nirem flowed and boasted a stately matronym. It conjured power and privilege when offered, even before discerning eyes could pass over her figure. It commanded things before she even could, though Aethalia always sought to earn what was already given. Evikaia Naerth spoke of ancient, heraldic syren blood that flowed through his veins. So many things were thrust upon them in their stations, though she longed to claim, conquer, and command of her volition. 

Aethalia and Evikaia belonged to the sea. They were a paired match, but she had never fought to claim it. Evikaia had surrendered his being to her, but she could never offer herself in return. Aethalia belonged to the kingdom, her people. She didn’t belong to herself, and couldn’t wholly release into the embrace that kept her together when she shattered. It had never been an outright refusal. 

Aethalia Nirem and Evikaia Naerth ceased to be when they last parted the waves, and it was now a matter of discovering the fate of Talia and Vik. 

Talia’s gaze only flickered over Vik’s retreating form for a hesitant second before she made a move to lessen the height distance between her newest acquaintance. She perched herself on the edge of the couch, offering a smile as the cat nuzzled her offered hand. “Did Vik find you, or did you find Vik?” She held her hand aloft, an open palm for her kindred to explore. She noted the proud, defiant air the creature exuded. Talia was sure she was from the same ilk as herself  ⁠— commandeering all of the attention of a room, making herself scarce, or retreating with displeasure clear in the wake she left. She gave an exploratory stroke over the smooth coat and soon found her lap occupied as a throne. After some time she angled her gaze towards the kitchen, Talia delicately lifted the creature into her arms as she stood, letting the cat abandon the crook of her arms should she wish. Contented enough, Talia started their journey towards the kitchen and back into Vik’s company. 

“We thought that we would join you.”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

She carries the coastal wind in her teeth / and the furious sun in her mane.

Annie Finch, from Spells: New & Selected Poems; “Rhiannon,”