pinned.
taliesin vanderbilt ⟶ intro .
Xuebing Du
One Nice Bug Per Day
Sweet Seals For You, Always

tannertan36
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kaledo Art
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Andulka
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Show & Tell
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

No title available

No title available
todays bird
seen from T1
seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
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seen from United States

seen from Australia
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seen from Algeria

seen from Malaysia

seen from Canada
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@tolvajok
pinned.
taliesin vanderbilt ⟶ intro .
☾ ― magic does wonders to stave away the chill in the winter air, it's something the female is more than thankful for. though as much as the magic had been doing it's job there's still a chill that reaches into her core. a shiver that she can't quite shake as she consumes another glass of wine left out for everyone to enjoy. the wine definitely added a layer of protection for the chill surrounding them. as she takes another sip from her glass her eye catches the sight of the other wandering off from the party.
☾ ― following behind the familiar party, observing where exactly it is that they are wandering off to as they venture further away from the charmed, heated space. chill setting in more despite her warm layers the further away that they walk from the event space. ❝ i think i am more curious how stabbing you would leave you to wish to dance with someone. ❞ head turning to the side as she ponders the idea. ❝ yes it is cold, why would you venture away from the line of magic meant to keep us warm? ❞
he should be mentioning to her how following people around without their knowing isn't necessarily polite, but then again... neither is stabbing people. "well, I suppose it's more the promise of danger rather than the stabbing itself... would be quite the hindrance, wouldn't it?" with his hands clasped behind his back, he slowly saunters over to her, an easy (drunk) smile on his lips. "however... since it's you asking—" she isn't asking anything. "—I could be convinced with a mild threat or two." at her question though, taliesin's smile twitches with a hint of mischief. what's better than responding to a question with another question? "why would you venture away from the line of magic meant to keep us warm just to see me?"
crossing her arms over her chest, mihika shook her head. "no, i will not dance!" she continued to shake her head wildly, her curls going each and every direction. "do you have any idea how many others are watching? what if they laugh at me?" she wasn't fond of fae looking at her, especially when everything felt off. mihika couldn't tell you why, but she felt like she wasn't supposed to be so cold. and alcohol would make it worse. "do you have other suggestions about how to enjoy this party? i'm all ears."
it takes everything in him not to start laughing. who comes to a ball not wanting to dance? "how endearing of your to assume people care about anything but themselves." he hides his smile behind his cup as he takes a long sip, watching her hair practically move on its own in her upset about people laughing at her. case in point. "dancing's for one's own entertainment! I know a place we may enjoy it without prying eyes." suggestive. improper, even. not like he cares. "come with me!" he doesn't even wait for a response, he just turns aroun d and starts walking away.
the confusion built up more and more by the moment. jin couldn't tell you where he was a second ago, but he wasn't sure why he didn't know that. all he knew was that the drink in his hand needed to be finished before he could process anything. trying to wrap his head around why they were at this party or how he'd gotten there, jin grumbled to himself, wishing he'd brought something to write with. keeping notes had always been helpful to him and now, in his party clothes, he felt even more useless. when he sighed loudly, he hadn't expected someone else to respond. because in all honesty, jin hadn't even realized there was someone else standing next to him.
"dance? i wouldn't know where to start," jin explained, his voice dripping with confusion. in regards to moving his body to any kind of rhythm or music was astronomically awful. his coordination was only related to anything fighting or war related, not dancing. "it'd be the opposite, me trying to drag myself off the dance floor." crossing his arms over his chest, he looked the other up and down. "i'm trying not to think about the cold, simply wondering why i don't know you or why we've decided to host a party here."
"starting a dance usually consists of putting one foot after the other. quite like walking. except... better, because there's music." he doesn't know what it is about all these fae and their reluctance to dance. he cn't possibly be the only one here to be in the mood for it. of course, he enjoys dances to more upbeat music, one he would hear at the taverns more than a castle, but with enough wine in his system, it doesn't really matter after a while. "please stop, now you're only making me want to see you dance." it would be quite the sight to behold, indeed.
"you don't know me? impossible." he shakes his head with a grin, hands clasping behind his back as he starts pacing around the man. "everybody knows me. the spirit of the winter winds." he whispers, just about at the same time he steps behind the other, to really send the act home, even if he is holding his laugh back in the middle of it. "we? we haven't decided to host any party. the high family has. unless... are you a part of the high family? if so... marry me?"
DIVYA DID NOT FAIL TO NOTICE THE SCOFF, BUT NEITHER DID SHE CARE MUCH TO COMMENT ON IT. She knew the majority of the High Fae found her preferred company to books over them to be questionable at best, rude and disrespectful at worst. However, she also did not fail to notice the hint of curiosity that, undoubtedly, reflected in her own eyes.
she lightly hummed, fighting a soft smirk.
"I can only guess, but I do not doubt their content to be ... most intriguing. Perhaps they hold secrets to other courts or a personal magic keyed to one of the High lieges." she offered the idea, though she doubted it would be the case. Knowing her streak of luck as of late, the so-called secret tomes are probably just agricultural receipts or secrets of the trade -- which are not that secret to begin with.
with a soft nod, she followed.
"I hear the library spans for two whole floors beneath the floors of the entrance. I wouldn't be surprised if they had some strange ice sentries guarding the entry." Divya chatted. "I'm not sure if I'd like to meet one of those sentries. I get frost bitten as easily as a wilted flower."
"perhaps..." he speaks, already making up a far more intriguing story than it would actually be. "...there are tomes telling tale of a long lost magical artifact that was found by a brave soul in a crystal cave labyrinth brimful of riddles and dangerous creatures, only for the artifact to corrupt their soul once they finally got their hands on it!" apparently, taliesin doesn't need to read any of these books. he simply must write one. whether it is the truth, or all make-believe, it shall be up to the reader to decide.
"two floors? wouldn't be the best idea to have it underneath the entrance-- ice sentries?!" he gasps, whipping his head towards the other fae. "I must meet these sentries. I shall shield you from the frost bite. I can take it." and promptly, a shiver runs down his spine. still, he does not relent, he simply keeps walking, trying to find a staircase that would lead them downstairs.
TO BE ENTIRELY FAIR, DIVYA FOUND HERSELF A LITTLE LOST, TOO. Being a librarian to the Public Library ( not even the royal one ) meant she did not frequent the royal palace as often as one might have thought. When the ruling lieges of the Winter court announced everyone was free to roam as they wished -- if they did not care to join the dancing -- she found it the perfect opportunity to vanish into darkened corridors and hunt down the royal library.
well, that did not go according to the plan.
Huffing though the nose, her golden-and-rose-gold mask shifting slightly with the motion, Divya turned corner after corner until she near collided with another fae coming from another direction. Swiftly smoothing down her olive green dress woven with golden threads, she offered a slight incline of her head. An apology or a greeting -- whichever soothed the spirits more.
"Believe it or not, I was actually looking for the library. I hear they have rare tomes on their hands, open for the public and I simply yearn to gaze upon them." yet, the comment alerts her to her own chilly attire. "It really is. I fear the heating charms might not work as well in this part of the corridor. Perhaps they don't wish for us to venture further. I don't recall being this cold in the courtyard." she added.
"the library?" a scoff escapes him, brows knitting into a frown of confusion. who in their right mind would try to hide among books at a ball? sounds awfully quiet. and spending time in quiet with someone else's thoughts written down on parchment bound in leather sounds... boring, compared to all the fun one may have people-watching, drinking, and telling each other stories.
nonetheless, taliesin smooths his frown out, and swallows the urge to make a joke about the fact that no matter whether it is for the common folk, or the highborn, libraries look quite the same everywhere. "rare tomes, you say? do you know what they could be about?" they wouldn't be open for the public if they were, in any way interesting, but one could always hope.
the thought of anyone not wanting them to venture further into the castle merely brings a stronger sense of curiosity out of taliesin. now, he simply must go further. "I know where the library is." no, he does not. "come with me."
open . (3/3)
the more one drinks, the less cold the air around them shall be. at least, that's what he's telling himself after each glass found empty in his hand, quick to search for a new one. taliesin finds himself stumbling down a dark hallway by the open courtyard after having parted with a group of fae in a fit of drunken laughter. it is only once the music somewhat subsides, and a particularly disembodied sigh snaps him back into reality, realizing that he is apparently lost.
lost?
however could be lost in a place he's frequented his whole life? perhaps he's had too much to drink. perhaps, someone is playing a trick. "not fair-" he's usually the one doing the tricking, after all. "not funny, either! if you wish to dance, there are much better ways to ask me, like... dragging me on the dance floor or... stabbing me or-- fuck, it's cold."
. ⭒ — 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙊𝙎, 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳-𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝙎𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸
shhhhh ignore everything under here uwu
it was safe to say, the wild young wolf of laicestre was impressed. he always asked achara of what her home was like. was is it as gloomy or as cold as the black keep? but it was different. it was bright and maybe yes it was hot but he was a northern man. any other region to him would automatically feel warmer to him be default. nevertheless, he felt like he was losing himself and as such it seemed to be the case for him as he ended up in a courtyard with a magnificent fountain. "Not what I imagined." rickard said so eagerly when he heard the footsteps echoing as shadows of dusk made his own disappear. "If we tried something like this in geimreadh, there is a possibility it would be frozen fountain in a fortnight or longer. this place is beautiful."
{ open to everyone | some courtyard with a fountain }
ambrose stumbled out into the courtyard, just about inebriated enough to stop himself from feeling naked without any of his furs or leather armor strapped close to his frame. he despised the heat. at least one could fight against the cold with more layers, a fireplace and thick walls. here, however? all one could do was stay still and wait for the sun to go down. "give it one particularly bitter blizzard and it'll be frozen in the matter of a night." cup of wine placed to the outer rim of the fountain, ambrose took a seat, or more like crashed into one, balance compromised with his muddled mind. "would be even more beautiful on a painting at home where we may breathe proper fresh air instead of whatever they've got here. warm and... inconsiderable... n-no, that's not the right word, is it?"
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 & 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 , 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 : 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞 , @tolvajok
moonlight peered through the window of the main room they had been appointed to for the duration of their stay in belveil palace, illuminating the silhouette of the wraith as she slunk through the door. it wasn't unusual for verena to return well past the witching hour, usually tipsy after spending the evening at a tavern, and tonight was no different. though instead of a tavern she could thank her state to the bottle of wine she had taken from the kitchens, now nearly empty as it dangled from slender fingers. “ oh darling, i'm home. ” the normally smoky caress of her words dripping with a saccharine lilt as the door shut behind her with an uncerarmonious click. ambrose wasn't darling, nor was this home. not even the black keep could truly claim that title, not when it had the unforgiving landscape of the geimreadh wilderness to rival, a place that was currently out of reach. though for a moment, the hauntingly beautiful beasts that had caused such calamity gave her an inkling of the feeling of its comforts.
blade of a knife pressed between thumb and index finger as it was held in the air, and aimed at the corner of the intricately designed wooden vanity screen in the corner made much less intricate after the half a dozen throwing knives wedged into it, courtesy of ambrose's little drinking game he made up for himself. the knife that was in his hand landed badly, bouncing off of the screen with a thud and falling to the floor, which was exactly when the door to their chambers closed, and the temperature seemed to have blessedly dropped with the presence of her in the room. finally. ambrose's head tilted to the side out of frustration of his throw not hitting his aim, finishing the cup of wine he had in his other hand with a little stumble as he turned around to face verena. "well, would you look at who decided to grace me with her presence!" his gaze dropped to the bottle in her hand. "do you ever share?"
ambrose's presence was of a comforting quality, when he longed for nothing more than to rewind time, find himself within the wintry embrace of geimreadh once more. he had found warmth there, in a select few of its people -- reminded of the very fact now, as he sat before the lord. "is that so? something tells me they are not so far off your own." surprising, perhaps, for a leal subject of vithel -- but not surprising, for those who had witnessed cedric carve green boy into warrior. misgivings, traditions, sentiments, from the coldest fragment had long since woven into what vithel had taught him, and what the nobles of his homeland would have him believe, now. "we may put it to the test, another tankard and fewer onlookers in." the hall might have been bustling, but the fairvale would not underestimate how easily ears could sharpen, to treasonous thoughts exchanged. "something tells me your stories of old will feature my failing on the black keep's training grounds, on multiple occasions." a coarse chuckle rumbled in his throat as he shook his head at ambrose's sing-song, knowing there was no evade affectionate mockery, if the other was so inclined. "in remarkable detail, no less."
"something tells you?" he hummed, amused as his head tilted to the side. "I must become better at not letting my thoughts be so easily read from my expression, then." nonetheless, cedric was right. the two of them did indeed share the same sentiments about the state of the realm. a breath of fresh air, to have the fairvale lordling in his presence once again after so many years. ambrose could still remember the youthful features the other wore when he came to the black keep. the bashfulness that he so readily took upon himself to exorcise altogether. the skinny limbs of his that could barely keep up on the mountains of the northern fragment. ambrose was halfway into finishing his drink when cedric spoke again, brows raised. he did not look around them, but he knew there were eyes upon the two of them. ears sharpened to catch any unfortunate sentiment roll off their ale-addled tongues.
"oh, but I have such stories of the noble lord of fairvale, from the lands of colors, and sunshine, and warmth, and the sweetest wines one could ever taste upon their tongue! speaking of... remember that one time half your face got stuck to the ice upon the gate after attempting to eavesdrop on a conversation between the cook and the butcher? you were aching for a proper feast. if I remember correctly, you almost cried asking for my help."
his question is amongst the ryu's favorites - for was it not such questions he could answer truthfully ? to not hide behind whispered desires of breaking free of a cruel kings grasp or another man's greed for a throne he could never fully fill ? " what every man , woman and child from ceago have always been taught since youth - " there is a wickedness within the ryu , a devotion perhaps not even from within his household , but from where he originated . perhaps he was supposed to be greater than this , perhaps he had been born into something he could never control but taken away from it . " to see our almighty get restored , for our homeland to once more become one , for the deities to merge back into where they belong and we all once more are underneath enerin's loving gaze . " it was no lie . it was the truth and no matter how absurd it might be , it was the ultimate goal for the faithful man , who would never forsake the creator .
there is a darkness in the lord's eyes, one that ambrose had rarely seen before, and even when he had, it was in the gazes of some of the most feral beasts he'd ever laid his eyes upon. one could learn the nature of the beasts of geimreadh after a while. their instincts, their reasons. food, shelter, protecting their cubs. this, however, was dangerous. unpredictable. zealous. ambrose was a man of plans. and strategy was difficult to build when one would mostly rely on the judgment and strength of a deity. nevertheless, ambrose would entertain the thought. he leaned back in his seat, arms folding over his chest. "a noble purpose indeed. tell me--" he started, choosing his words carefully. "would it be the almighty that chose your next monarch, then?"
There's a gentle laugh achara breathes out at the thought of her youngest. it had been her hardest pregnancy, however ambrose was right, cahir carried the strength of the winter in him and the character of those of ceago. "that is certainly true," she had come to notice her children too after atesia or itris, cahir was her only child that seemed to take after both. she wondered if he would carry the blessing of the sereen. "underestimating, them, or anyone could be a deadly mistake. ambrose, do not ever forget that." she says with a serious hint to her voice, but the amusement in her voice never faltered.
there was a slight tinge of envy in the smile ambrose offered his good sister, for he so wished to learn to be half as wise as her someday. she knew him well, perhaps better than some of his other siblings, better than even himself. all he had to offer was wit, and charm, and the frigid stubbornness of the mountains. "I shall not." as they walked by the stairs that led to the kitchens, ambrose faltered, nose urging him to turn his head towards them. "perhaps... the cubs would enjoy a sweet treat?" he asked, as if his own sweet tooth wasn't the one aching for some sugar. "we'll be so quick, I promise. just a bit of a detour."
scent of spiced meats and honeyed pastries linger in the air, weaving through the lively chatter of merchants — bartering voices and laughter a jarring opposite to the silence that had filled the castle's walls. lyra moved between the stalls, hints of gold highlighted in the mid afternoon sun as fingers trail against bolts of silk dyed vibrant hues. the simple act usually enough to turn her thoughts more pleasant yet the weight of recent events linger too firmly for it to soothe as its meant. the heavy sweetness of fruit wafting through the air gives her pause, lingering in front of a vendor selling fruits that smell better than any she'd had before. ‘ what do you recommend ? ’ questions of the next patron over, turning flecked hues onto them. open to @tolvajok
a glance thrown over a shoulder, dark eyes searching for anyone with an air of suspicion around them, a hand on the hilt of a sword, or a dagger, a hushed whisper to another, anything out of the ordinary. it became a habit of ambrose's ever since the attack happened. he'd managed to perfect the looks to seem nonchalant, even though there was an underlying tension in his jaw as he walked down the streets, as if nothing was wrong in the slightest. he was pretending to browse among the many fruits he'd never seen before, considering the lack of color or warmth one would need to grow them back home. that was when he heard the lady's voice, expression softening right away. "recommend? I wouldn't know, my lady... I didn't even know some of these colors existed before." he jests, tapping at one of the fruits. "how about this one? with the color of the sun setting on a day clear of clouds."
She laughs, throwing her head back at the thought of all her children climbing a top him, which they would if only he asked him. "well, all but cahir. he is still too young to be meddling in your shenanigans." she chuckles, a year or two more and he might be able to chase after his siblings too. "one day they are going to truly give you a run for your money and you won't know how to handle it." she laughs, they will grow even if she did not wish them to. they will grow and they will team against their uncle and he will come to laugh and regret taunting them all at the same time, as will she.
"just you wait sister, cahir shall outgrow them all. give him a couple of years and he'll be the one carrying me." his youngest nephew had the blood of winter coursing through his veins from the moment he breathed the frosty air of the black keep on the day on which he was born. he would grow up to be a fierce protector of their house, ambrose was sure of it. "if there is anything I cannot handle, I'd rather it be my own flesh and blood, rather than outsiders. still... I feel as though I could find a way to manage the situation. once they think they've bested me." the sound of achara's laughter brought warmth to his core as they walked down the hallway. he adored his nieces and nephews, enough to skip his duties to spend time with them instead.
and as the devil smiles , the demons dance . there's nothing more wonderful to the ryu than to see someone on the verge of treason , of wanting rebellion against those cast out by enerin , forsaken by their god and divinity . " the king leans upon his council , but they are puppets as well playing the tune his majesty wants to hear - " citrine hues searches for cracks in the laicestre's armor , for an opening to slither within and use the man to his full potential , release whatever hatred and horrors he can find to his own gain . for does he do this for the people of ardora ? no , he does it for the almighty , the one who was forsaken and broken by mere mortals . " should we let a man without a clue nor reason , sit upon that throne ? "
the king had done everything in his power to surround himself with people that wouldn't dare defy him. it was the smart thing to do for one whose soul was slowly being eaten away by paranoia. a wise monarch would build a high council of people that can be trusted, yes, however, what good would each member of the council be for if they didn't have the courage to tell the king that he was in wrong? a slow inhale was taken as ambrose contemplated. if the king had to go, so did his high council. each day spent here breathing the putrid air of the lowlands (for anything south of the mountains of geimreadh was considered just that), the third born laicestre longed for home, free from the hold the king had over them. "...no." he finally admitted, voice hushed. the only way to separate from the rest of the realm was to cause unrest. a dead king would surely help with that. he looked at the other man. "what do you wish to gain from this?"