Moments of Tangency

I'm craving for my hiraeth. In the tears that float on the rims of your eyes. Like paper boats in a puddle right before they capsize and trickle down, down. Onto dry earth, misplacing as minuscule a dust cloud as the heart of the one you weep for.

[veldrea-anwyn]

Clearing the Air, an OOC Post.

[[ A lot of people have seen me on Raethelia and are wondering some things. So I am going to clarify for all those who are curious with a FAQ section specifically for her.

Q.) Where has she been for thirty years in character?

A.) She has been searching for J’unas to no avail. Unfortunately this tends to leave a lot of holes in her story, which will further be developed through interacting with her. The reason they split, where he went, their final moments. All of these things will be cleared up through none other than Role Play! That is all why we are here right?

Q.) Is she still the same Raethelia from seven years ago?

A.) Yes! She is still the same character with the same experiences. If you feel like you know her from an extended past please don’t hesitate to walk up and recognize her.

Q.) Is Raethelia going to be your new main? Are you going to shelve Veldrea?

A.) Absolutely not! Veldrea is such a pleasure for me to write and she has a lot going on in her story right now I wouldn’t just drop all of that because I chose to bring back an old flame. 

Q.) Why did you decide to bring her back after all this time of inactivity?

A.) My beautiful huntress has always been there in the back of mind. It doesn’t matter how many mains I switch through I always model them off of a watered down version of my Rae. She is my one true muse, she is my inspiration, and I truly don’t think I would be the writer I am today without seeing the world through her eyes first. I decided to bring her back because she was necessary. I was talking to a really old friend and she suggested it. She told me I should go back to my roots to try and get that fire back. So here came Rae again, making a guest appearance in some of my writings. I know she was retired but maybe I was a little hasty about the entire thing? For a long time I was really bitter my old writing partner leaving me for BDO. I am done being angry and I am ready to grow through her again.

Q.) Will a Tumblr be made for Raethelia?

A.) Probably not, but maybe? I am really uncertain at this point in time.

Thank you all for tolerating this OOC post and I really hope this answers a lot of the questions I have been getting lately. I wish all of you happy writings and long lasting story lines!  ]]

[declinate]

[amespeciale]

[veldrea-anwyn]

~still wonders to self what happened between Archwizard Purdue and Lady An'wyn~

Her leftmost hand gathered the wine glass, liberally so the Magistrix began swirling the contents with a formally dormant sashay. Life was breathed into the crystalline chalice as liquid stained the color of the finest scarlet dye coated the inner bulb of a grail she deemed righteous. 

“Why does it matter? It has been some time since my stay in Ambermill. I have a life among my people, a loving husband, pure children, and a purpose. I was naive to believe my life among the humans would last long; they are all so fleeting creatures. Never having ambition that captures the grand scheme of everything, I mean how could they? Humans only live eight decades or so..”

Softly her voice trailed and she allowed the glasses base to begin its slow drag against the terrace’s banister. Gradually her lips drew into that of a flat line, and she whirred about. The fringe of her satin robes fluttering in her wake as she began to saunter away from a view of which she fawned. 

“Perhaps we loved too much, or not enough. Maybe we never even belonged together in the first place, we were so different after all. There comes a time where you get so exhausted from combating destiny that you give in. You wilt because the burden is just too heavy and before you know it everything is falling apart and you can’t do a thing about it. I will never forget Alranon Purdue, or the things he taught me. He is one of my more fond memories after all. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again. As different people, in different stories, perhaps then we’ll share a life together.”

[veldrea-anwyn]

DXXXIII

Winters brittle chill had nearly expired; in the crux of her palm melted several flakes of snow. The Borean Tundra would see such powdery crisp all year, but when spring came the sun still glazed over the coastal seascape in a warm glow. A blanket of golden fleece that would soon spread across the frosted arctic cline. In her admiration she had gathered a handful of the pearly veneer and held it so lovingly so. A gardener tending to her conservatory of arctic flora; snowflakes being the most rare creation that nature birthed from the weeping skies.

He had emerge from beyond the arched threshold, from the comfort of their shared chambers to the harsh region. Along her side he strode, wrapping an arm around the Sin’dorei and fanning his fingers against her waistline. Beneath his other arm he toted a parcel. A scarlet box with a white bow so massive its ends curled and tapered into a lopsided flop. She hadn’t been one for blessings, surprise gifts being her least favorite. Veldrea’s eyes captured the present and its near pristine sheathe of scarlet filigree. Gradually her brow began to rise and before she could speak words of protest he placed the wrapped offering upon the banister. He had been grinning, wide and poised. For a moment she was caught off guard - enthralled by the way the corners of his lips curled with a splash of dapper suave. She found herself studying his face perhaps longer then she should, and when it became apparent her features turned a blind eye to the generous tribute. It wasn’t until the package began to move on its own that both ears perked with mild interest. With elongated lobes wavering and head spinning all she could hear was

“Happy Birthday”

Before she peaked beneath the lid of the box, and began to smile. Dipping both hands into the inner workings of taffeta and velvet she eventually pulled from within a wolf cub who began to wiggle around theatrically and wagging its tail wildly. This was a day worth celebrating, she thought.

[sotick]

By  Giulia Bersani

[adrenaline]

[veldrea-anwyn]

Moments of Tangency

They sat on the fringes of societal crumble. Spires erected in perpetual namesakes, buildings reared to shelter the wicked from prying eyes. They sat on the fringes of a culture eradicated and risen in the image of shambling horror. Men and woman alike shuffling about with a lack of purpose, a lack expressive delivery.

The first crack of the skies flare was enough to pull Veldrea from her remiss thoughts. Nolan had been seated at her side, hand intertwined with the noble’s.  She watched as beacons of vibrant color sputtered into the sky and bleed into a series of chromatic fireflies. A dusting of splashy motle that consumed the twilight and turned evening to dawn. each deafening roil a carnival of lights.

"It is easier when someone passes and you mourn their death. Because you know wholly that they are gone. You may visit their place of rest and pay tribute in beautiful flowers. But when you mourn the loss of someone who is still breathing; still animated, you have to imagine them living their life without you in it. They’re off living their life and happy with someone else  ..”

She exhaled softly, tears freely gracing her face as they rolled down both cheeks.

“And all you can think to yourself is ‘that was supposed to be me.’“

The forsaken wrapped one arm around the slender hostess. Pulling the weeping woman closer into his embrace. He too would be gone soon, and she would return to her life of royal normalcy. Nolan was only her guide after all, never a permanent fixture. His chin burrowed into her crown, and the other limb soon wreathed around her. 

“Veldrea, my poor naive child. You were never intended for his story, and we all knew it from the start. You were among humans trying to live a life that wasn’t befit of a Sin’dorei. You can don a disguise and fool everyone else, but we knew, your true companions knew, it was only a matter of time. We grow from hurt, we prosper from sorrow, and most importantly we bloom even among adversity. This is only a stepping stone to your future, not the end. A lesson learned and a tale to tell over far too many glasses of wine. Now dry those tears and give them hell, we return to the Capitol in the morning for your newly appointed orders. You do not get the luxury of moping, chin up and eyes forward. You can’t move on if you are too busy looking beyond your shoulder.”

[gosh]

by rosie.prosser

[veldrea-anwyn]

What happened with you and the Archwizard?

As if the palms of indifference cradled her cheeks her chin lifted with somber plight. In hues vivid with the tapestries of a garden that had been well watered, within them one could see hurt. Her eyes the shoreline, and her pupils the tumultuous current of the sea. Delicate fingers came to squeeze the reins of her stallion as her and Nolan plodded along through Silverpine’s Grove. The query came like that of a pandering thought; never vocally ushered but ever present.

“I do not wish to speak about it ..”

Murmured petals flattened by sorrow. The curve of lips stained in gloss were weighted in a permanent scowl as her thoughts swam around the fish bowl of her mind. A moment was offered from the forsaken, from the dirt path and to her his gaze lingered. Inhaling deeply if only to animate the depth of his emotional farce. She was mostly speaking to herself, and he knew that, but watching her exude inner turmoil caused him to shift uncomfortably.

“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, Lady An’wyn.”

She turned to him, distant in gander.

“I know, and I am choosing not to.”

Silence befell the pair, and her slender legs came to heed her yearling. Tongue snapped against her pallet, soon creature and mistress were sent off down the path at a labored gallop. Hands released the reigns and palms turned towards the vault of stars. Perfectly balanced her arms outstretched towards the dome of twilight. She was free, she was free at long last.

[knowing]

[knowing]

[books-n-quotes]

If the girl had been worth having she’d have waited for you? ..‘No, sir, the girl really worth having won’t wait for anybody.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via books-n-quotes)

[veldrea-anwyn]

Swan Song

"It is time, Veldrea."

Hues never migrated from their place along the mantle. His words hung like that of humidity; her vocal folds stifled by the sudden thickness which permeated the arid countryside of Silverpine Forest. The evening had come with haste, and so had her means of departure. Such had the intention to vacate her humble abode, but she was halting. Her swathed stride heavier, her shoulders burdensome in slouch, it all happened so fast. A delicate hand came to meet the decorative veil in a strike of resentment. Passionate outrage seeping through her outward expression, and she had no one to blame. She needed someone to begrudge, she needed a reason to harbor venom, but when she turned up empty handed she loafed. 

Nolan shuffled uncomfortably at the archway to her chambers. He knew that words would never mend the wounded elven dowager. Fumbling with a coin between his digits he thought to occupy his mind and allow her a private moment of grief. She mourned for the loss of possibilities. She lamented over the fragile structure of her life, and how it came crumbling down without heed for Veldrea, whose gentle hands would be left with fragments of the past. The Forsaken's barren crown tipped skyward and he sighed; not in annoyance but in observation. To whatever divine existed beyond his understanding he showed piety; devoutness that in his undeath he could empathize with the proverbial break of hearts so frail. 

The Matriarch began neatly folding a parchment, the imprimatur of her personal emblem sealing the missive. Heated wax carelessly dripping down the tucked vellum as she ran her thumb against the scarlet droplets of personal regret. There was no turning back, not now. Vows were made, and promises were shattered into thousands of reflective splinters. It was in the fleeting moments of dusk she crossed the room, placing the letter neatly atop the satin bedspread. Turning to Nolan her countenance paled and she became slighted. Vulnerable beneath the heft of his hollow orbs from golden currency to her. There they shared an intimate moment, a long stare followed by tears which seamlessly cut into her face like whetted talons. Against her fair complexion droplets of weep contrasted so, and even as her eyes became vivid seascapes she rose her chin and began in stride.

They journeyed through the home side by side. His arm looped through hers as his thumb came to roll over the flush of her palm. Even in undeath his touch felt warmer, it felt so unbelievably real. Their pace was steady, never dallying but not too hasty, and once they breached Ambermill she peered to the sky. This was the last time she was going to view that violet dome which eclipsed the sunset. The last time she was going to set her sights against the faint panorama of a forest consumed by malfeasance. What the letter said? Only the Archwizard would know, for she was taking those words to her grave. The only readable notation was a lonely sentence, it read: ‘Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.’

[down-the-rabbith0le]

[soracities]

Winter’s Tale (2014) dir. Akiva Goldsman

[adrenaline]

[adrenaline]