- ̗̀ worldly.

tamlen, 2246, summer warder to laer, turned celestial elf.

[katherine-mcnamara-archive]

[greggedwardsulkin]

@greggedwardsulkin

[raffaelexfiore]

"Right, anime. I wouldn't want to offend your rich elvish traditions of watching," he glanced towards the screen at the paused figures before he looked back towards Tamlen. "Anime."His fingers tilted the other's chin as Raffaele leaned in and gave a sour expression at the comment. "So you're saying I look tired." Raffaele was vaguely amused because Tamlen wasn't wrong, "It's a busy time of year for mortals around funeral parlors." He closed the short distance between them to press his lips against Tamlen's before he smiled, stood up, and started to worm his way across the buttons of his shirt. Thankfully, he hadn't been embalming anyone today, but Raffaele was still death-adjacent for the last eight or so hours. "You should come by sometime, I can show you around and introduce you to the ghosts." Still playful, as all over the place as Raffaele had been the last couple of months at least Tamlen had been consistent throughout; truthfully it felt like more than the witch deserved these days.

[tamlenx]

"I have to trust that Nirvaan knows what he's talking about; you never know when you're making a tradition out of something," Tamlen was certain that Switch device he carried around the entire troupe was going to be solidified within Aurora's royal vault for new generations to look back upon. The Worldly had scorned the Chosen before and wasn't about to make that mistake again anytime soon. Raffaele's expression soured and Tamlen's nose scrunched in silent awareness that he perhaps wasn't the best at delivering a soft blow. Death clouded the Scar, this stark miasma that was hard to ignore; something that seemed to be a consistent mark within the halls of the funeral parlor. It was a bleak imbalance to the potent celestial nature that seemed to burst at the seams of Tamlen's golden frame, the Worldly's brows raised at the playful comment. Shaking his head, there'd likely be no manner of convincing the elf to venture into the parlor, still he'd play along, "And would you hold my hand? Attempt to protect me from the vengeful spirits?" That brow remained quirked, there were plenty of phantasms that lingered in the depths of and crevices of Faerûn but that embalming scent and the lingering fumes of death were something Tamlen wouldn't be cashing in on witnessing.

[hidinghesperia]

Date: January, some time Location: Audele, but the center tree area Characters: @tamlenx & @hidinghesperia Notes: you reacted and i decided we need more elf/elf vibes together

When she was little, Hesperia grew up under the golden, glowing tree of Eden. She wanted to be one of its protectors when she grew up, wanted to help the attendants care for the branches and the magic that sustained the humans because she loved nothing more than playing under its branches with her siblings, the pixies, the other fey and the humans. She'd never gotten old enough to see that dream come true and her dreams changed dramatically since then. There was no Eden left and this was the only Laurelin that Hesperia had seen since then. They said that the Archdruids had protected the seed of this Laurelin and that a Celestial elf had grown it and now protected it as it existed to sustain their new elven realm. The world was so different. In fact, this was a different realm now altogether. Hesperia had built her little home for her and her sibling in the outskirts of the Dusk Field's border that was closer to the Lunar Mountains. Their home touched one of the largest Laurelin roots that protruded out of the ground near those Courts because she hoped it would remind The Tranquil of their old home.

But she spent more time outside their new little house regardless, coming closer to the center of the tree to look up and imagine what it might have been like if Eden never fell. This wasn't Eden but it was its own magnificence. So Hesperia sung a gentle song as she placed a hand over one of the thick roots that she sat upon. A song not to hurt or even help the tree at all - a song only speaking of her love and appreciation for it so that it might hopefully know how she felt. She figured it would do nothing at all with magic but another elf emerged from nearby as her song faded away. The elf did not emanate any seasonal magic that was familiar to her. They also spoke of other strange elves here besides the Celestial like Astral elves and Sanguine elves and other's that she'd never met so Hesperia couldn't be sure what sort this was. But his power was very... uplifting. It was a strange but wonderful feeling. "Are you a guard or caretaker? I was only singing and thanking her," she said softly and calmly. "I swear it on the Gods."

[tamlenx]

"There's no need to bring the Gods into this," a tamed grin was the only inkling that Tamlen did not see this Dusk elf as some supposed threat. Abyssal elves, dark elves, traitors, and deflectors riddled the edges of Audulë but there was no threat which resonated from her someone who spoke of magic more antiquated than his former summer tether. An elf who seemed on the caliber of Laer, in age of course, for none could come the be an equal to the Sun Chancellor. "I am her guardian, yes," Tamlen slipped forth, lounging comfortably atop a massive root that flanked the western side of the tree; his respect for the Laurelin was immeasurable but the Worldly often doted upon the World tree as though it were a coherent companion. Laurelin often was a listening ear for his curious thoughts and ideals, a canopy of golden leaves often shielded the Worldly when he dared to lounge within it. Sune had taught him that the utmost respect could radiate from the love and compassion given to the world around them and so the Worldly did not venerate the tree in some cold show of veneration; he offered it a piece of his heart. The other pieces belonged to Laer, the Sun Court; love was an instinctive part of the elven world, it would crumble if there happened to be a great void of it.

Tamlen's grin faded to a smile, legs kicking back and forth from the considerable distance the massive root of the golden tree had placed between him and the ground. "You've been a witness to other Trees before, have you?" Eden, this one screamed of having bore witness to the Ulthar's concocted paradise before it had crumbled before the trees had burned and before the faerie court was rightfully established. Tamlen came into this world upon the fringes of this, his magic had supported the court, instilled into it's very foundation before the dark elves had stolen that from them, too. "More hide in the realms outside of our reach, but this one is ours to fight for, to protect, to love." His smile bled of fondness, Tamlen slipping from the root to stand before the other elf.

[chancellorxlaer]

Dutiful to the end, Tamlen agreed but Laer kept his eyes trained on the man, there he kept note of any dissatisfaction or hesitation. "Like any song, it will no doubt take you lifetimes to understand and to master, but time flows differently in the Astral, which might be to your advantage while you're searching. I would prefer you ready for Summer, we have our traditions to observe and I can't be without my warder through them." Laer needed Tamlen ready, willing, and able to receive the many bounties that the Sun and those personally invited by the chancellor would bring. It was no secret that Laer was deeply in love with Tamlen, just as he was in love with Cloud, Logon, and all the members of his court. He was thoroughly tied to them in ways that transcended what words could not convey; it was all just another reason for why the orgy was so important to him.

[tamlenx]

No longer of the Sun Court through his celestial ascension it wrought great comfort to know that Laer still insisted upon Tamlen's attendance to such summer rites and traditions. "No matter my progression, I wouldn't leave your representation in the hands of Logon and Cloud," though the Worldly supposed that Cloud had earned their right as the notorious bucket holder; it was a great honor, actually. The Merfolk was an architect in which Tamlen venerated but the Worldly always garnered an air of self-importance and found it would be a disservice to his chancellor and wardee if he was not in attendance. "The Sun Court will be the last stop on my journey, I may know it's song well, but consistency is a vital tool," through all he'd learn through the other courts, within the Astral, the Sun Court would forever be his home, no matter the celestial aether that now ran rampant within.

[warderinan]

Ambient magic flowed off of the celestial; there remained a surrealness to the other's presence. Inan felt powerful, though the danger imposed when he'd indirectly channeled from Tamlen was no longer present. The party was a surprise; chancellors mingled with commoners, witches, druids, vampires, and humans alike. Inan caught sight of seraphim and demons: through it all, there had been relatively little bloodshed, even with the presence of the drow. Inan wasn't the type to dwell on emotional resonance. He spoke his mind plainly and kept everything else well-guarded. Inan felt the corner of his lips lift because training was his preferred method of dialogue anyway. "Of course." Inan rigged the apparatus to fire, then let loose a series of woodland projectiles cascading through the air.

[tamlenx]

Guilt was not often found within the Worldly, a blind spot which often offended many he'd come across but the End had changed things, in indiscernible and completely palpable ways; none were the same as they'd been before it. His magic had become a difficult song to control, this amass of power that had burned out those he'd cherished, those he'd respected; Tamlen had no ability back then to command it, he was a vessel for it as had been the other elves who'd become consumed by it's force. Overtime, slowly, Tamlen was picking apart the aether he could manipulate, the binding of the four basic elements that'd he'd exhaust until he felt not only comfortable but perfectly proficient in it's castings. The Aether was gathered under a silent draw, a calculated direction as it seemed to cut through the air towards the woodland projectiles, splicing the majority of them into two even halves. Two of them were almost missed, the aether splicing through the top bit of them as the projectiles fell to the ground, an exhale of disappointment left him, but Tamlen wouldn't let his confident bravado be completely desecrated by his newfound abilities. "I've better control since the war but it may be some time before I recommend using me as a conduit again." The Worldly was always good at faking it till he really made it, the raw celestial energy which flowed through him now was no different as he learned to navigate it.

[raffaelexfiore]

@tamlenx location: Raffle's Love Nest notes: kiss kis sucki sucki

Tamlen didn't have a phone, an Instagram, an email, or an address that could be located via carrier pigeon. Raffaele never really knew when the elve would show up, so for convenience, the witch had a key made so that Tamlen could let himself into the apartment whenever he was around. Wards let Raffaele know when someone was inside; Tamlen, specifically, was an alert he'd get wherever Raffaele happened to be at the time. Tonight, the witch had been witch Efigenia after work, practicing and learning what she'd started to teach him following the holidays. While Raffaele had already closed the frequently reopened wound over his palm, the skin still felt tender: raw, red, and angry.

Their relationship wasn't long-distance, but in the absence of having the ability to send someone a you-up text, knowing when Tamlen was in his place was necessary. It was impossible not to smile when he saw the silver-haired celestial sprawled across his couch like any mortal might be, TV blaring a Japanese dialogue as Tamlen kept pace with the subtitles. Raffaele wasn't part of the anime crowd, he'd grown up the witch equivalent of Mormon so seeing Tamlen like this was incredibly amusing. "....Are you watching cartoons?" Raffaele loosened and pulled out his tie before tossing it towards Tamlen.

[tamlenx]

Tamlen never had any prior purpose to acclimate to this world, he'd only recently been run out of the Otherworld, forced to come to terms that he would be indefinitely apart of the mortal realm until something shifted. Audulë broke open on the fringes of the End, a secret realm, something that imbued the celestial with newfound appreciation for his kind; under the former Queen's end was a new beginning. Appreciation was abundant but there was also this strange feeling within him, how easily he could turn away from the mortals again, revert back to that feeling of superiority he garnered when in the presence of other high elves. The Otherworld had been forever changed, a precarious place of higher stakes now that demons and other abyssal creatures found placement within Faerûn, but it still resonated as a place once thoroughly explored by the Worldly. Tamlen felt great reassurance in knowing he'd explored, he'd invested time in many troupes, and that perhaps dipping into a more mortal lifestyle while the Scar was still a prominent fixture he was fond of. Raffaele's life was mere minutes in comparison to the celestial being but Tamlen refused to think on that as the Japanese Manga series played through on the screen.

"I heard it's unwise to call them that," Tamlen shrugged, he'd been so enraptured that Raffaele had actually momentarily surprised the elf; that was no good, he was supposed to be tuning into his powers on a deeper resonance not blocking them out completely. The Worldly hit the pause button, shifting their entire frame to face Raffaele, but staying comfortably in a criss-cross applesauce position, arms outstretched as he beckoned the witch forth, his fist immediately closed around the tie that had been tossed his way. "Seems like you're working hard." A kinder way of saying Raffaele looked tired; Tammy was making progress on being more tactful, now if only he too could truly tap into his powers he'd feel better about it all.

[imafanboysoexcuseme]

[raffaelexfiore]

Good humor was something the witch possessed in spades, though more often than not, he used it to get under Tamlen's skin whenever possible. He liked to see the other blush, to feel the rise in the temperature as blatantly sordid words curved around his tongue. It started as a joke because he'd say something out of pocket and would hear Kaan sigh so loudly that it had to take years off his life. Maybe too many. Raffaele shook the thought from his mind; the habit of compensating or deflecting with humor was probably something the witch wouldn't be able to shake anytime soon.

"See, 'maybe' I can work with. Maybe is a good, strong chance." Raffaele shifted the embrace to sling his arm loosely around the other's shoulders; at least with Tamlen, things didn't feel complicated. There were things that the witch needed to learn and power that he needed to obtain, but they couldn't come from the elve. Whatever the celestial was, his story, and his place among his people, it wasn't meant for Raffaele. As fleeting as the witch's tale might someday be in the longevity of what Tamlen would ultimately become, he hoped that this part was a footnote that the man could revisit in the years to come. What previous years the mortal had, he'd decided to devote towards what mattered most to him now: vengeance. To Raffaele, that was something Tamlen, who'd been so spiteful towards the drow when they'd met, could understand.

[tamlenx]

None would come out unchanged from the End but the bitterness towards what they'd all endured burned brightly when he'd seen the light within Raffaele's eyes shift and burn out. It'd been replaced with something dark, a tenebrous wanton which Tamlen could not yet decipher; it spoke of his grief, his anger, it hinted at his troubles with his own mortality. When faced with tragedy, mortals often shifted to their usefulness, what they could do if only they were stronger, fiercer, garnered an otherworldly vigor. Tamlen made a silent promise, however, as his tanned arms wrapped around the witch, that he'd protect and aid Raffaele in whatever was needed to heal the broken fringes of his soul. Pain bled within the Scar, that which even a blood witch such as he could not drain and expel no matter how deep a wound Raffaele cut. The thought alone allowed the celestial elf to smile a little brighter despite the expression being dampened by his own sorrow upon the situation. "Then we should get going and maybe you'll be able to convince me on the walk back," the despondent smile turned into a more rueful grin as Tamlen's hand slid down to grip Raffaele's in his own, tugging the witch from the balcony to navigate through the dense crowds of the party and get to the fresh air of the outside world below.

end.

[xxerxesx]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Xerxes knew he had no right to interfere. He was speaking on matters that literally had to do with a realm he would never see, yet he promised himself that he would never be held hostage again and that he would liberate anyone he came across who was trapped. It wasn't his place, but he had enough encounters with the fey to understand their intent. Guardian? Xerxes had to actively suppress a scoff when Tamlen's title was announced before the new Senate. He knew all too well the cost of imposing responsibility on someone who didn't ask for it. And regardless of what Tamlen said, Xerxes couldn't accept that he would ask for this.

"Ok, so what? What does it matter if you aren't interested in drowning yourself in frat pits or chugging the ice bath of a football team like I am? The point of freedom is that you get to do whatever you want. If my realm bores you, then explore another. I mean, traveling to someplace new can't be that hard for you. You're glowing for crying out loud!" The principle of it all made it impossible for Xerxes to let this go. Tamlen, like anyone, deserved to choose for himself how he got to spend his eternity. "Just because you're unable to see the cage you've been locked in doesn't mean it's nonexistent," he says softly, visibly hurt. "Same thing still applies even if you were the one to put the cage up in the first place. I was happy to serve at the behest of a bastard for over two thousand years. My service to him was more important than anything. He made me feel special and important like what I was doing for him mattered. But you know what I got out of it in the end? My own thoughts stripped from my head and two thousand years down the drain. He abandoned me when he had no more use for me." Once Xerxes realized he started rambling, he took a moment to recollect his thoughts. "Tell me then, if you were to walk away from your post indefinitely to do anything else, would you be permitted or stopped?"

[tamlenx]

Tamlen blinked, almost appalled to be placed in such box; or perhaps it was exposure, the box being torn from around him to place him starkly at Xerxes' behest of scathing truths. The Worldly was coined a relic of the Otherworld, a creature who'd been born off the fumes of the fey's former legacies, elves transformed to lesser eladrins who would be established into the faerie court as the war between mortals and fey came to a close. Fey were susceptible to more than rot and spellplague, Titania had established the court, imbued with Tamlen's magic and many others within the realm, as a means of protection; a fortress which no mortal nor vampire should cross. He'd once been so sheltered, a fey weaned off of stories and past glories from his warder parents. Revas may have thought himself to be damned by exile, but it was through his father's exile that he'd been able to travel to Logon's realm, to experience life in a way Tamlen never had. He'd felt the damning bars of a cage before, it was what the former glory of the faerie court had represented; but the Worldly had also known what it'd been like to establish freedom. His destiny was presaged as being a warder, but it wasn't until the faerie court fell to the drow, along with the Otherworld, that he was allowed to collect on such destiny. Laer was the first, and with Tamlen's fierce determination and resolve towards the title, the Sun Chancellor would likely be the last, the only.

Xerxes' demanding words, his impassioned retort which clearly struck very closely to home, had Tamlen, the ever egotistical celestial, blinking in a wordless retort. "I... don't know.'' A pause of frustration came next, Tamlen was always so passionate about his title, his duty, this supposed cage that he'd built with his own two hands, "Xerxes, you were a mortal who became monstrous," no matter how he bonded with the rebels, many of whom were vampires, he couldn't ever bring himself to give a vampire any ounce of humanity, "I've always been related to something divine, gods and goddesses of the Seldarine are in each elves blood. This is my duty, my calling, that which I was born for. Where you see a cage devised for me, I see great discipline." Tamlen frowned, what he said was the truth, but it wrought great sadness within him to discover that some looked upon him and saw a celestial creature trapped and caged. "I've traveled the realms for many years, lost to the wilds of the Otherworld, navigating the treacherous paths between the realms, I know what may be out there for me," he nodded to the mortal realm, to Rome, behind Xerxes, "But I can't say I know what is waiting for me there any longer." Fifteen years of torture had been what the catacombs provided, but what else was Tamlen avoiding within Rome; the Rome that had not bee ransacked and destroyed by cataclysmic war? "What did you mean about chugging the ice bath of a football team? And frat pits?" These were terms he'd never herd before.

[naturesesme]

Esme bared the faintest ghost of a smile, thinking how perhaps Tamlen was right. Revas would have said he didn't care what his brother thought; he would have loved her anyway. But Esme had always been so close with her own brother - making Tamlen like her would have been a goal of her's regardless. The faint softness of her expression faded away as quickly as it came.

"He was my first love. I guess things like that aren't always meant to be." Esme mused, her eyes on the shifting grass as she hugged her arms against the chill she felt. It was perpetually a perfect temperature of warmth in that place but she felt a chill anyway. Finally, she looked back up at Tamlen. "Thank you for speaking to me Tamlen," she said quietly. "But you don't owe me anything. It's okay." She had always adored the fey for the nature of their magic and Revas' association to them but the princess had been all too knowledgable of the species' aloofness and their ever-growing distaste for mortals. Tamlen was old, older than Revas had been, and she didn't expect him to change if he hadn't already, nor would she put that on him to do so. "I was never going to belong here but I wanted to just say bye once." At the moment, Esme didn't see herself returning to the home of the elves.

[tamlenx]

The sadness of this druid was lined within each faint smile and quirk of her expression, it was a devastating mirror to Tamlen's own grief and the Worldly forced himself to peer away despite what was united between them currently. "Esme, I have been alive for over two millennia, perhaps the blink of an eye for an elf like myself, but my life has been one of solitude, of adventure," he'd lived a long time embraced by the courts, a young fey sheltered within Titania's established realm within the Otherworld, but the Worldly had desperately needed to escape the sequestered bounds of the realm. Revas and he had been strangers until they were both well into the adult lifespan of fey, bonded by their planned meets within the mortal realm; it was here they spoke of the beauty of the realm Revas cherished, the advancements made, the courts within the Otherworld, and somewhere between, he spoke of Esme. Thessalonike as she had been, something Revas reminisced on, someone he had lost. It burned to know they had found each other again, it burned worse to figure it had been too late for them to have enjoyed it. A bittersweet reunion torn asunder by his untimely disappearance, his death. Tamlen would not know of what happened to Revas, but it couldn't have been anything that warranted his cruel demise.

"-What you had with my brother is something I have not yet been able to understand because I myself have not experienced it. You may feel as though you could have never belonged amongst the elves, but take great care to note that I would welcome you if you ever needed refuge from your world, your troubles." Revas may have been gone, this may have been a goodbye, but should the druid find herself in murky waters, Tamlen left the door open for her to return if she needed aid from a celestial elf such as himself.

[warderinan]

The part had shown debauchery in abundance, but when Inan thought about vampires, he immediately thought about violence. "I was surprised that there were so many people there, everyone, from all over the city. So many species, I've never seen anything like it." Inan had seen the mingling of species at Lupercal and in smaller demonstrations over the years he'd walked this world. Never so many, though, and indeed not so many varieties. He'd been afraid that within the castle's walls, he would run into his brother again; that fear had been paralyzing in a way, but Inan and Somniar had not crossed paths. The warder's resolve wasn't weak, and every action he'd ever taken was one that he stood by without a second thought; when he came to look upon Somniar's face again, though, he couldn't be sure what he would do. "It wasn't for me." His cock had stayed dry until he and Connor had got home that night; that was better. "Did you have fun, though?"

[tamlenx]

"You're correct about that, I don't think I've ever seen such unity when it comes to a vampire party," it was all under his imagination, of course, but when Tamlen thought of vampires and their debauch parties, he thought of far more blood, violence, and thralls. Even Raffaele had seemed reigned in and resigned to what the Worldly had expected, but that was mostly due to the fact the witch was in a severe case of mourning as of current. "I tried to," and he had, but the Scar had shown a new side to Tamlen that he hadn't quite been expecting; it seemed the affects of the war, it's atrocities and sacrifices, were still trickling out upon everyone who had witnessed it. They'd fooled around, made faulty promises with silent bearings and offerings, but Tamlen hadn't expected the brunt of such grief, it took the Worldly by surprise. "But like you said, it wasn't for me," Tamlen hated where this was all going, so dreary and dark, the celestial elf stood up a little straighter, shaking off the bad juju, "It's my turn to hit the targets, yes?"

[chancellorxlaer]

As the elven hybrid of two courts did cartwheels in the background, sending bolts of fire, lightning, and wind in all directions as she did, her noble guards chased after her almost comically. Naturally, in Laer's eyes, she could do no wrong: spirited was the term that the chancellor would have used to describe his daughter. Though there was truth in there that her carefree nature that bordered on recklessness reminded him so much of his sister, asking her to change in any form was simply out of the question.

"You're a part of me, Tamlen; what piece of me that lives inside of you benefits just as much by your advancement." Laer had extended his hand towards Tamlen as he spoke, then gestured broadly across the palace's chambers as he continued. "As does all of the Sun Court." His smile was bright, warm, and ever-present as he stood from the throne where he sat; clad in little more than stray clouds and golden flames, neither did much to conceal his form. Laer descended the steps to stand before his warder, faithful friend, and beloved bottom. "Aether is the breath of the Gods, the amalgamated expression of all the courts in one. When you harness it, you're tapping into all of them at once, but at present, it's just raw power. I think if you can figure out a way to isolate each, you'll be that much more formidable on the battlefield." Peace was nice, but Laer had lived long enough not to delude himself; if they wished to protect this future that they had created, then the chancellor would not repeat the mistakes of the past.

"Therefore, I'd like you to travel and spend some time among each of the courts in our realm." Warmth radiated off of Laer as he extended his hand towards Tamlen and placed it upon his cheek. "The decay of the dusk court, the cold of the lunar court, the nature of the dawn, the transmutative physical magics of the lythari, the esoteric power over blood that the sanguine possess, hellfire of the fey'ri, perhaps even the astral above. You'll only be able to harness your fullest potential if you understand its many aspects entirely." Laer knew how Tamlen felt about his time sequestered away, all those years where he'd been kept like a prized prisoner of war rather than the frontline soldier he'd been trained to be. "What do you think?"

[tamlenx]

No matter the changes wrought within him, Tamlen was eternally apart of the Sun Court, until the day came where the wardee was without his warder, but that was a day the Worldly would never think upon. A relic of times passed, Tamlen had trained himself to ensure he'd be the very best warder, he'd navigated the Otherworld, transcended through the Wilds and other places which were proven to be tough terrains; of any he may have come to ward over, Tamlen would offer no less than perfection. Difficulties only arose as he bore the bounty of Sune; aether was the breath of the Gods and though Melpomene had aided in the fine tuning of his song, even she could not properly decipher it. Tamlen would have never allowed himself to believe a treacherous and murderous drow, but the End had changed them all in a swift ascension, and it was through that he'd come to accept Felandaris' knowledge and apply it to himself. The dark elf had spoken of the differentiation of his aether, how each who possessed this magic was distinct from another. Laer resonated this thought now, the reminder of such scathingly raw power hard to swallow.

The celestial elf had burned through Inan, had allowed suffering to his chancellors, all because his power had burned too brightly for the elf to contain it. He'd be better this time, he'd ensure the raw elemental power would remain under control and Tamlen would master it before he was ever forced to use it for the salvation of the worlds ever again. Laer's hand fell upon his cheek, this nurturing guidance that was indicative of Laer's fondness towards his warder, "I will ask of each Chancellor to guide me through their courts," an affirmation as the Worldly nodded his head, "I will search for the sanguine and the fey'ri and hope they allow for me to learn from them," Cloud had spent plenty of time off in some cave and Tamlen could only hope it was enough of a reprieve for them to get their bearings. Meryasek would be, hopefully, easy to chat with and learn from; he was once their monarch, a King of Fey, and his reawakening would hopefully not change this tether to their courts.

[bemybaebaebae]

Gregg Sulkin

[raffaelexfiore]

"I'm not trying to pretend that I'm okay." He furrowed his brow and cleared his throat, continuing, "I'm just trying to figure out how to exist in a world that doesn't have him in it." The witch had hoped for a fun night, but the heaviness of his grief had cast a dark cloud over everything. He longed to enjoy himself, but it felt too soon. Every time he looked at the people he had called family for so long, he felt burned by the memories of his loss.

Tamlen was good; the Worldly in all his ego was one of the few perfect things that Raffaele still had in his life. Maybe the only one. Every other connection in his life was soiled in some life or otherwise seeped in depravity or illegal activities. There was a moment of silence that bled into another while the quiet of the night hung over the balcony, winter's cold, and the unusual snow that had followed.

Raffaele reached towards the silver-haired elve, wrapped his arms around the warmth of the other, and pulled Tamlen against his chest. "Will you still suck my dick if I'm depressed?" Raffaele's attempt at a joke as he rubbed the other's back wasn't really a joke. "Hop on top and do all the work?"

[tamlenx]

Maybe Tamlen was suddenly projecting but he frowned quietly as Raffaele corrected him and explained what he was truly feeling. It seemed obvious once the words had left the Scar's lips but Tamlen simmered quietly as the residual of such lachrymose extempore washed over him, nodding almost sullenly. It was hard to believe that death bonded them now, the loss of two influential people within their lives; family that could never be replicated.

Where once the celestial elf was a furnace who was the very antithesis to snow, he now instead burned quietly, lamenting silently as Tamlen attempted anything that wouldn't sound falsely poetic or cringe-inducing from him. The Worldly had faced loss and death before but never on such a personal scale, never with those who felt bonded to him in such detrimentally shared experience; he'd never imagined losing his brother and of witnessing somebody he cared about lose their father.

The Scar broke this suffocating blanket of silence that had encroached upon them, tugging Tamlen into an embrace as he attempted to shift the mood to a more sordid resonance. Tamlen grinned, though he'd become albeit distracted too since Raffaele's emotional confession about attempting to endure. "Yes, I think that goes without saying," a beaming smile, though one that was not at it's full potency, using it as a small pause as he pretended to mull over the latter of the request, "...And maybe." A teasing lilt swarmed his retort, punctuated by a kiss upon the crook of Raffaele's neck. He was like a pillow princess who'd went through the trenches, he could throw it back but he did his time; maybe true love for them was Tamlen living a power bottom dream to prove he cared for the Scar.

[springlia]

In a sense, Lia can't blame him for his held-fast ideals with keeping with the old ways, it does hinder a bit of progression and allows prejudice to seep in but he has guarded her brother for long and so it is best that she seek to align with him instead of build resistance. "I love seeing my brother's work in Audulë, there's no architect quite like him." Sunlight had always resounded within Lia, with the spring new life would begin again with the blooming of the roses and even in her most darkest hours, she sought to nurture the innocent and turn towards the radiant light, it felt as if her years of uncomfortable searching for where she belonged had finally ceased and with the reclaiming of the dawn, she felt more like herself than ever.

[tamlenx]

"It will never be what once was," experiencing the splendor of the spyres and crystalline projections being created for the first time, but it was always a figment of beauty to oversee, something which was bittersweet to endure. Tamlen had been born after most of the original faerie court had been established, but fragments of his magic had still been instilled into the buildings, his song still resonated within the bones of a place that was no longer the high elves to stake claim over. Logon had built a realm fit for exiles, a place of underwater enchantment but through the drow's overtaking, the architect had been put to work repetitively; forced to think outside the box over and over again. "But he always seems to find new ways to outdo himself."

[wardernirvaan]

"I'm sure we can figure out how to leave." Not that he needed to at the moment. There was an entire wedding, Aurora's birthday and a party to attend. There were plenty of things for Nirvaan to do and it felt like not enough time to do all of it. That was okay though. He would end up doing all of it and then he would just have to be tired at the end of the day. "As far as I'm aware, the snow is just as bad in Rome. The mortals might not be able to handle it. Which is pretty sad, but they'll be able to understand that the solstice is upon us and it's just a necessary part of our lives." He looked down at his axe at his side, hand on the hilt of it as if something could go wrong at any moment. Even though the two of them had made it to the end of the world, it felt like they couldn't have been more apart recently. Which meant that Nirvaan was always worried about how Tammy was doing. What he hadn't expected was the apology that came from the celestial elf's mouth. "My birthday passed. Barely any snow. I didn't get to celebrate because of...well, you know." He paused. "I don't expect you to be nice to me all the time, Tammy. You haven't been a bad friend. We've just both gone through a lot. Fifteen years is nothing to us, but it still felt like an eternity, didn't it?"

[tamlenx]

It was a miracle that the wedding could go off without a hitch, the last he'd heard of King Meryasek had been when they'd returned from their troupe, forever changed, to discover that he'd been executed. Really, though, it'd just been a rebirth considering it had tapped him into this daemonfey potential and wrought an end to the monarchy of the fey/elf court. Where once the celestial elf had been brazenly confident and unable to be shaken, he now twitched with apprehension, a sense of anxiety that the End of the world could come around again as though it was an inevitable orbit. The Worldly had once been blissful in his confidence, a warriors strength and a history of the Otherworld prattled out to him in his youth; he felt as though he'd not ever meet his match. Who would have thought that such match to crack him would have merely been time spent in idle; fifteen years was nothing to a fey, an elf, but it'd been unbearable and it'd aged them all beyond anyone's genuine comprehension.

"Yeah, but you'll be 333 next time around, I'd like to think that's a bigger deal than 332 has been," a grin for it couldn't technically be a lie if the bigger deal was hopefully a chance at Nirvaan's peace and happiness compared to that which marked his elven soul currently. "It felt like a few eternities..." a sad retort as an almost pitiful smile graced the Worldly; he was often viewed as a bully when it came to his domineering attitude, but Nirvaan was one of the few who mediated it, and had never been afraid to call him out upon it. "Maybe I'm not a bad friend," calling himself a bad friend did seem to be a bit extreme, "But I've not been considerate."