Faiman || Mental Suggestion || Captain of The Eagle's Flight || Lysaran Noble
About || Biography || Skeleton || Connections
Tags: Visage ; About ; Headcanons ; Selfparas ; Musings ; Music ; Edits

JBB: An Artblog!
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Not today Justin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
styofa doing anything
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin

shark vs the universe
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Today's Document
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Janaina Medeiros

Kaledo Art
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

if i look back, i am lost

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@theportaraceli
Faiman || Mental Suggestion || Captain of The Eagle's Flight || Lysaran Noble
About || Biography || Skeleton || Connections
Tags: Visage ; About ; Headcanons ; Selfparas ; Musings ; Music ; Edits
"I wish I could turn it off .. slip into oblivion .. only I feel as if I have .. I have forgotten someone important and I don't know if any drink will be enough to restore what I have sacrificed." her voice sounds far off, as if she is speaking through a dream and she knows she most likely looks unhinged as she is grieving for what she has lost but what she cannot form shape of. Even though she surrendered the last home in a person that she had, the last remnant of her innocent childhood within the Ironwood Forest, she feels selfish struck with such grief considering what the Legion has given.
"Please remind me of your name, I'm sorry I didn't mean to forget .. I just haven't felt much like myself these days." Her mind is searching for what has been removed, the only way she would ever forget Froy is if it was physically taken from her and her eyes keep searching in crowds for that face that will quiet the insistent demands of her nervous system that things are not right.
A small relief breaks on her face. "Thank you." any drop of kindness felt like an ocean right now with how unwell she felt. "The Dreadnaught .. the horrors never cease eh? We just fought a dragon in Amon Sul and I know work is not done. The blight continues to take. I fear I'm not super positive company right now, what seems to be troubling you?"
A bitter smile draws across Araceli’s lips as Luna speaks, the resemblance of their situations a heavy shroud over them. There are solutions that she could offer, suggestions that could be given, but somehow she doubts that an agent of Minerva would be enough to solve the legionnaires' problems. In that instance, she had been rather lucky.
“They will not,” she says simply, kindly. Seeking refuge in the bottom of a barrel is an easy solution, but it will do nothing to recover what has been lost. At the end of the day, it is only a temporary solution, and one that comes with great risk. Addiction is a slippery slope, and one Araceli knows is always standing at the edge of. With so much weight in one shoulders, one will always want to disappear into a drink, but that will never be the best choice. Not when there is more work to be done. “The drinking will help for a moment, but the pain will return stronger the next day. The best that can be done is to feel it and acknowledge it, unfortunately.”
A hand is raised to wave of her apology, a kind smile on her lips as they speak.
“Araceli, but don’t apologize for not remembering. I am just good with names.” Or rather, she had been trained to never forget a face. It would have been a debilitating mistake to make while playing the game, after all. She wants to say more, but she is drastically distracted by what the other said. Blinking slowly to mask the shock, she glances at her thoughtfully as she files the information away.
Well, that is interesting.
“A dragon?” She says slowly, questioningly, as if to prompt her to speak more of the topic. “I just came back from surveiling Ardentgate’s damage. It’s not pretty.”
Luna is world weary and she has travelled back from Amon-sul with pieces of herself missing, she looked around at the Legionaries that surrounded her, those who had accepted the immediate calling and whose death was promised to arrive, no longer the slow creep of time but quickly as the shrouded figure rode it's horse to deathtouch those who had been marked and who would lose themselves as the blight corrupted and claimed them as a darkspawn or those who had missing limbs, bloodied stumps where a hand had once sat, blood smeared upon cheeks from the hollow socket that the eye once sat in and those who lost their voice and tether to magic. Luna knows that she stepped within the circle to fight to keep Althea for a little longer as none of them had much sand in their time glass, the calling would all arrive eventually.
She does not realize what she sacrificed as she does not remember, she feels an absent ache all the same from days spent playing make pretend in the Ironwood forest with Froy before she had given away the memory of him in sacrifice for the Legion.
Her eyes lift, exhausted with grief and those who she can't fully mourn out of respect for their choice, for Veseniya who departed to die and Aradia who delivered the final blow and gave it all to restore her sister. "Ale can't fix what has been taken but it's one hell of a bandaid, thank you."
If Araceli had thought that she looked rough, that was nothing compared to her companion. Then again, the world is falling to pieces all around, so it is only expected that there will be those who are suffering at the hands of all the events that do not seem to stop. There is no break, just a constant race to stop the world from falling, or to undo the damage that has been done. Such a constant race would drain anybody.
“What better way to stop the pain than to drown it, if only for one moment?” She drawls, the quip a touch too dry to be sarcastic. It’s a moment of weakness, and one she will only allow for the night, but it is a moment of weakness nonetheless. To seek the embrace of oblivion rather than a solution is not something she would usually do, but she is being pushed to the very edge and she needs a break.
“Luna, right? We met at the Dragon’s Draught a while back,” she comments after a quick, thoughtful look at her companion. Then a memory surfaces, and she grimaces a bit more deeply. “And I saw you in the Dreadnaught, now that I think about it. Yeah, one pint is not nearly enough, let me buy you three minimum.”
Adria Arjona
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who? open where? Brewed Awakening when? Post plot drop
Araceli does not stumble into Brewed Awakening, if only because she is above such a thing. Still, she enters the establishment with a dark mood, the memory of Ardentgate seared on the back of her eyes. It’s Aventia all over again, her home wiped away as if it were nothing. The cursed fate had now befallen others, and she once more had been unable to stop it. There is an emptiness at the pit of her stomach, a sense of misery she cannot seem to get rid off. There is little she can do to stop the darkspawn, little else than to have faith in the Legion and hope — oh so desperately hope — that a solution it’s in sight. It is heavy, the weight of this inability. Heavy the realization that there are some things beyond her control, things she cannot fix even if she were to give her all.
She needs a drink. Or several.
Reaching the counter, she slides into a seat and nods at the bartender, recognizing him from when her crew used to frequent the establishment back when her trips to Iskaldrik were more regular.
“Two pints for me,” she says, turning to the side, only to find a gaze on her. Raising a brow, she continues. “And perhaps one for you, as well, my friend. You seem to need it almost as much as I do.”
ADRIA ARJONA
photographed by Greg Williams for Hollywood Authentic (May 2025) Cannes Issue
Araceli showed very little of her nerves after going through something beyond traumatic; it was clear she had been raised in the bosom of Lysara's Game. But even some nobles had trouble hiding their thoughts and emotions. It spoke of skill and, likely, experience in clandestine matters. An Agent and friend of Nightingales heard rumours - but Eridani had always liked to turn a blind eye to the smuggling of magical Iskarans and witch Astorians. Today had nothing to do with what Araceli had done and everything to do with what had been done to her.
"I will need access to your mind by way of touch and concentration. More specifically, the temporal lobe of your brain. If I notice any physiological trauma, I will need to refer you to a Healer first. Otherwise, I will enter into your memories myself. It is an uncomfortable process, I must admit. You will feel as though you have lost control of your thoughts as I gain access. Unfortunately, it is that the more you resist... the longer it may take. And believe me, I know how that sounds. It is unpleasant, even daunting.... but I will give you full transparency throughout the entire process. For the sake of that transparency, your memories of what happened with the Kossith with be considered for The Tower's own purposes as well. The value of your experience cannot be understated, my Lady. It may help the Agents gather ways of countering the Kossith in the future, Gods forbid that we need it... But you are a citizen of Lysara, and a lady of the Queendom. Our duty is to your well-being and so I promise that we will do all that we can to help you"
She nodded once. "Simply by virtue of exploring the entirety of these memories, I suspect they will be unlocked fully. If that does not work, we can discuss other methods. However, I have full confidence it will be enough."
Her jaw tightens the more the Agent explains, and Araceli has to pause to take a measured breath before any decision is made. Her instincts scream for her to say no, insisting that by allowing the Agent into her mind she would be offering far more than she would be getting. Yet, logically she knows that is not true. As uncomfortable as the whole matter is, she did not only lose memories from her time with the Kossith, but beyond. A lifetime of memories is hidden within her head, just out of reach by her own making. Allowing Eridani to peruse her thoughts is a high price, she knows, but it’s a price she must pay. There are countless secrets hidden within her memories, and she doesn’t know if any of them will be important in the long run.
“I did not erase the memories of my captivity alone,” she admits, a muscle twitching on her jaw as she bites out the words slowly, making sure to enunciate each bit. “I have gaps going back all my life. Will getting those back also require you to travel through them?”
The thought alone makes her stomach drop, her discomfort reaching untold levels. She is committed to get her memories back but this? This is not something she would do all too happily.
“If so, I might need your word not to share anything not related to the Kossith with another, for there could be classified information that only the heir of Borderreach should know within what I lost.”
Who: @theportaraceli
He could sense her before he could see her. The lack of a sense of self. Everyone thought they knew despair but the truth was that what most felt was sorrow, grief, fear. True despair was a lack of all of that, it was absolution, oblivion, a certainty that not matter who, what or how you feel none of it mattered. They couldn’t help but stare across the room perhaps to intensely but Pythius thrived off her emotional state it was impossible to resist their nature of watching this one. His lips moved only slightly but the other would be able to hear the demonic trill as if they were inside her mind “who do you think you are?”
Despite the Agent of Minerva’s help, there was still a sense of loss that filled Araceli’s chest as she went through the motions. She now remembered her role as the heir to Borderreach, remembered all that had happened up to her capture and after. But beyond that, she now knew that it meant to have her ability turned on herself. Thanks to the experience, she now knew intimately what it meant to reach out and nudge one’s control away while imposing her own. It’s overwhelming to know that she could take so much away if she truly tried, and she had taken on ending her days on a bar near her home, staring dully into her drink as she weighed whether to reach for the oblivion of sleep or drinking. Usually nothing of notice happens, but that night she feels watched, almost hunted, until a stranger speaks.
Glancing up, she raises her brow.
“Why do you want to know?” She asks tiredly, even as her eyes narrow in suspicion at the odd thrill she hears from his voice. “Perhaps you need to introduce yourself first, if you want your questions answered.”
Eridani caught on to some hesitation, reluctance to trust, a promise to a loved one and determination. None of this was a particular surprise, and she could not blame the Lady for being nervous. She was only grateful and proud of her bravery to offer up this information of her lost memory regardless. Eridani halted any more attempts at touching at the surface of Araceli's thoughts, and instead focused on speaking to her.
"As I understand it, your abilities involve a certain level of mental interference and psychological suggestion," she frowned, concerned and sympathetic. Her tone was gentle but methodical. "I can see how the Kossith would have used this to their advantage. In taking your memories, they would have taken away your emotional ties to a life before their influence and make you into a more willing subjugate... I'm sorry this was done to you, my Lady." She took a breath and pause. "... Fortunately, many cases of amnesia, especially of magical means, can be reversed by trained psionic witches... I will only need to assess the changes before knowing if it's within my own abilities."
It’s unmistakably uncomfortable to divulge as much information as she has been doing to a virtual stranger, even more when that meant getting to hear her current condition put so very plainly. Araceli had known the details of it, but it is an entirely different thing to have them broken down by another so very keenly. If it weren’t for her half-remembered court training, she would be shifting in place in discomfort. Instead, however, she is pointedly still as she tilts her head and nods at the Agent with her lips pressed into a grim line.
“If there is a way to fix it, I would like to try it,” she insists with another firm nod. She needs to get her memories back, and she is willing to go through whatever discomfort it will bring. Likely, she would be more hesitant if it wasn’t a member of the Tower offering the solution, but at the very least she knows that their loyalties are the same. “How would the process happen?”
"In due time," Celaya clarified further, making no attempts to step aside for Araceli. Their interactions had always been rife with conflict, but Celaya heavily assumed, at the moment, that Araceli pre-memory loss would have not given such haste to join in on the interrogations without sitting and thinking of various methods first. "Your mind is one of your most important assets, Lady Araceli, sit and ponder with it a little longer."
“We don’t have much of that,” Araceli comments idly as she settles back down on the floor and begins tapping her finger against the ship’s floor. She wants to move, the urge to be useful surging now that she has been confronted on her inaction, but she cannot trust her own instincts when she doesn’t know herself, so rather than challenging Celaya once more, she sighs and rests her head against the wall. “But very well, I will take my time to sift through the options.”
Well that answers nothing and yet conjures nothing but horrors. There were multitudes of completely logical reasons to have someone's memories erased, he could think of a few situations and information he'd given people that he desperately shouldn't have. It was a matter of ethics, and considering the Kossith had seen through that it was done and he knew of their cruelty, what had been erased? On top of that, she didn't remember his name? Kay tries not to let it get to him, she knew him, that was enough, she'd known to get home. Taking a step back over the threshold and further into the house, he takes a second to look at her, to really look at her and he has half a mind to ask if she's indeed fucking with him. "Lucian." And he grimaces like he always does when he says it, if he ever wanted to scrub that name from her mind now would truly be the time to omit it, but the idea of getting rid of any of the history between them felt like a disservice. "But you, and everybody else, calls me Kay."
The silence is heavy, nearly suffocating, as the man takes the information in. Then, he steps back, and she immediately misses the sense of safety that he had brought with him. But Araceli doesn’t complain, instead she follows him through the threshold of the house, eyes flickering around and taking in the place that seems achingly familiar and altogether strange at the same time. Most of her focus stays with him though, and she catches the grimace when he introduces himself. Somehow, she can’t help but mirror, as if the reaction is as instinctive to her as it is to him.
“Kay,” she tries tentatively, and the name sounds right, feels right. Just as she had felt at home in his arms, saying his name brings a sense of comfort, as if she had said it a thousand times and would say it a thousand times more. “Thank you,” she offers, offering him a small smile. “I know that is a lot. That this is a lot.”
ADRIA ARJONA ELLE Thirst Trap, June 2025
Eridani's brows furrow concern, but she seemed more thoughtful than surprised. It had been said the lady was unfit to return to her duties at the moment, recovering from some significant injury from the ship. As Araceli stood tall and strong in front of her, the Agent now presumed her mind was the source of the injury. The worst sort, in her own humble opinion. And so she felt a pang of sympathy.
"Have you been having problems with your memory? Please, have a seat, my lady." Eridani would sit across, eyeing the faiman with professional scrutiny. With a delicate attempt to begin her assessment, Eridani would attempt a sift through the very surface of Araceli's mind - little enough that most regular folk would not feel her very slight intrusion.
As fragmented as her memory is, practice and instinct remains. Both tell her to be wary of showing any and all weaknesses to those she doesn’t know well. Kay is an exception, as well as a few others, but something tells her she doesn’t know Lady Eridani all that well. Regardless, it is no matter of choice at this point. She is here in an official inquiry, after all, and she has no intentions hiding anything from the crown. Even if even considering speaking frankly feels like an itch she can’t quite scratch.
“You could say that,” she begins slowly, grimacing as she does. A hand settles on the arm of the chair she is settled in and she begins tapping it as she pushes the truth with great reluctance. She had promised Kay that she would try and find a solution to her current problems, and she meant to fulfill that promise. “During my time with the Kossith, I was forced to take my own memories… Not all of them have returned.”
adria arjona via instagram
“Thanks,” he muttered as he forced himself upright, wincing slightly as his legs adjusted beneath him. His fingers ghosted over a bruise on his ribs, then the line of an old burn across his shoulder. He rotated his arm slowly before letting it fall back to his side.
His eyes swept across the horizon, taking in pale sand, jagged rocks, unfamiliar cliffs in the distance. None of it stirred recognition. That wasn’t comforting.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where we washed up, would you?” he asked, voice still raw. His gaze lingered warily toward the treeline. “Because if this is Itzcoatal… we might not be out of danger yet.”
“No need to thank me, not for this,” she denies, head shaking as she speaks. They are in the same boat, after all, both former victims from the Kossith thrown to the sea by their captor’s last attempt to subdue them. Surviving this is the best they can do to spit on the memories of their captors, and she is determined to help as many people as possible to make it out.
“I—,” Araceli goes to say that she doesn’t know where they are, but as she does, her gaze lifts from Froy and settles in the distance. There is the shape of land in the distant horizon, and— And it seems familiar. “I am unsure. I feel like I recognize this area, so hopefully we are near Lysara? But my memories are so jumbled, I could be wrong.”