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4 yrs ago
Current got a giant honey pot in animal crossing & honestly i have peaked in life
5 likes
4 yrs ago
@Renny no hate but ging is kinda trash lmao
1 like
4 yrs ago
no its bc dark jace isnt a member of rpg
2 likes
4 yrs ago
@Bee what about one big jace's family
2 likes
4 yrs ago
my friend describing my chars like "pink and girl group/solo female artist kpop aesthetics, either a bad bitch or borderline unbearably bubbly and sweet" .............i've been called out
7 likes

Bio

lame sappy tree-hugger piece of trash who spends too much time on Pinterest and/or clicking thru haute couture collections oops

HMU @ urstyle.com/user/ayzrules or on pinterest @ayzrules pinterest.com/ayzrules

My CS's: roleplayerguild.com/topics/166313-cha…
Personal FC Directory: roleplayerguild.com/topics/172732-per…
Character Directory: ayzrules.tumblr.com/chars
Playlists: roleplayerguild.com/topics/176135-pla…

Most Recent Posts



@Oak7ree thanks! will do!


@Oak7ree tell me if I need to change anything?
@Oak7ree okay, so for our CS's, you want us to have how they developed/acquired their powers, correct? like some cause leads to some power, rather than just noticing when they manifested or something?

also, I was wondering-would it be possible for me to make a character who's more of a politician/spy than a soldier? I had a femme fatale-esque character in mind and I just wanted to okay it with you first
@Oak7ree tag me in the reboot as well, please!

@Lady Selune sorry for sort of going MIA. Life got hectic D:
@Hostile alrighty cool, I'm looking forward to it!
@Hostile everything all good on your end?
​Serenei gave Stanford-Doctor Stanford-a quizzical look. "Logged? I thought you were a physician, not a woodsman," she said in confusion.

Doctor Stanford then proceeded to tell her exactly where they had arrived to. Which, in truth, was not very helpful. Novus. What kind of name is that? What are planets? The late twenty-first century? Goodness gracious. What are "star systems", and what are asteroids?

"The twenty-first century? The twenty-seventh? Since when have we started using the word 'century' for time, my good doctor?" Serenei furrowed her brow. "We are in the two-thousandth and eight-hundred forty-sixth year After the Seclusion...aren't we?" Serenei knew that this couldn't simply be a bad dream. There were too many things that were confusing and disorienting. She didn't know the limits of her mind to conjure up images for dreams, but Serenei was fairly certain that she'd never seen half of the things in this place. Wherever it actually was.

Doctor Stanford had also said something about earth. Serenei perked up. "You mean this is another form of Father Earth that we have been unaware about?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side. "Snow above, that certainly would be peculiar. It's been thousands of years since Father Earth wed Mother Nature."

Sereni looked outside at what was supposed to be Novus. It looked faintly like Almerinte, if one was to shoot themselves miles and miles and miles up above the ground. Meanwhile, Doctor Stanford reached over and unwrapped the bandage that was around her chest-to which Serenei gave a startled eep, because metal and a doctor or not, Stanford was still a man, and it was most inappropriate for him to be touching her like that, especially when she was already married-and proclaimed that her physical health was in an acceptable state.

Serenei quite frankly had no idea what he was talking about, but she nodded and thanked him anyway. "Thank you, Doctor Stanford, for your assistance," she said. She would have curtsied, as propriety demanded, but Serenei unfortunately was not wearing a skirt of any sort. She realized with a start that she had absolutely no idea what she was actually wearing.

Doctor Stanford instructed Serenei to go to the mess hall, where the rest of her "squad" was supposedly waiting for her. For the love of everything cold, what is that supposed to mean? But nevertheless, it would be rude to refuse, so Serenei let herself be ushered out of the room. The metal physician had said that there were signs that would lead her to the mess hall, so Serenei wandered around like a headless chicken for a couple of minutes before she located one of the aforementioned signs and began heading in the right direction.

She stepped into the crowded room, overwhelmed for a second by the lights and the noise and all the unfamiliar objects. Where was she supposed to go now?

*****

Bryce gave Serenei a blank glance, but said nothing about her strange speech patterns. He was slightly puzzled when she seemed unfamiliar with the healing ritual, but it was not in the High Priest's nature to question such trivial matters.

"Most people find that lying down helps to combat the sense of dizziness and nausea that accompanies the healing ritual," he explained patiently. "But if you would prefer to stand, it makes no difference to me."

Bryce procured a satchel from within the folds of his blue robes, which were so dark that they were almost black. Novices were given pristine white robes, the color of freshly-fallen snow, and the robes grew darker as they advanced up the ranks. The fully-fledged priests and priestesses wore robes of snowy grey. The High Priest was given a robe of the darkest royal blue.

Inside the satchel were the items required for the healing ritual. Each realm's ceremonies and methods of worship differed, but one thing that was common to them all was the existence of a healing ritual. In Meraly, priests and priestesses of Ver'lya captured the light of the sun and the fire of the sand and the smoke of sharp incense, while in Cyraine, priests and priestesses collected fresh rainwater and flower buds and morning dew. In Alumnall, the healer-priests trapped the mischievous wind and swept up the deep crimson and vivid orange leaves that fell from their trees. And finally, in Itervia, they collected vials of falling snow and fragrant pine cones and crystalline icicles blessed with Ophelia's cold kiss.

The first thing that came out of the satchel was the vial of falling snow, wrapped in a piece of ivory lambswool to keep it from shattering. The snow had been collected some time ago, and it should have, by all rights, melted by now. However, intricate runes etched into the glass of the vial evoked an ancient magic that Bryce, as a priest of the honorable goddess Ophelia, had mastered during his journey up and down the Inner Wytesias. The next object was a pinecone, plucked from the thick forests of the Outer Wytesias, not far from Lord and Lady Harner's seat in the Valley of Ice-Prince Clarrik's childhood home. He wordlessly handed both of these items to Serenei.

Finally, the High Priest walked over to the window and pulled aside the damask curtains, letting in the crisp (some would say frigid, but that was not the case to Itervians) air. The Itervian palace was as old as Ophelia herself, and it was made of pure ice, held up by ages-old magic. Bryce delicately plucked an icicle that had formed on the window ledge from its place and shut the window before turning to face Serenei once more. He laid the icicle flat across an upward-facing palm while he lifted one of Serenei's hands with his free hand, and began the ritual.

He shut his eyes, and summoned the goddess of ice and snow from deep within himself. The room grew colder. A cloud seemed to pass over the sun. A cold wind began to swirl around the bedchamber, and a thin sheen of ice formed over the wooden floors and the rugs. Bryce breathed in, then out. His breathe misted in the air and solidified into snowflakes that landed on his robes and on Serenei's silk night gown. Bryce tightened his grip on his sister's hand, knowing that this was right about when the vertigo began to set in.

He silently called upon Ophelia to wash away all forms of bodily harm so that her skin was as smooth as fresh snow, unmarred by any scrapes or scratches or bruises. As such, a small paper cut on her fingertip closed up and disappeared. Bryce called upon Ophelia to bless her with the strength of the trees that the pine cone had fallen from and the strength of the mountains from which the trees had grown. Finally, he humbly asked her to fill Serenei with the cleansing coldness of ice, to freeze away any passionate feelings of anger or hatred. And as such, Bryce felt Serenei's fingers grow colder as the cold sensation passed through every fiber of her being.

The High Priest thanked the goddess for her benevolence. He began to withdraw, and the bedchamber warmed up again. The clouds cleared, the thin sheen of ice cracked and disappeared.

But at the last minute, a whisper of the wind caused Bryce to pause.

Listen, the wind murmured. She is not one of us, it hissed.

Bryce's expression remained impassive, though he was disturbed. But he knew better than to interrupt when Ophelia was directly communicating with him, so he listened.

This woman is not the princess. She is not from Itervia, she is not one of you.

The whispering wind was gone as quickly as it had come. Bryce released Serenei's hand and took a step backward, unnerved by what had just happened, though the only indication he gave that something was off was a slight twitch of the eyebrow as he collected the vial of snow and the pine cone and tucked everything back into his robes. "I trust that you have recovered, but I shall send a physician to check for any further injury or illness if necessary," the High Priest told her in a cold voice, before turning on his heel and leaving the bedchamber.
@shylarah she's got a lot of stuff on her plate rn, so I expect that she won't be posting anything super soon
​​​​T​he...the...Serenei had no idea what it was, exactly, but it looked like a...what did it look like? Like a man, except one that was metal. Which was impossible. What made everything all the more impossible was that it...he...could talk. ​

H​e addressed her as "Miss Ashley". Serenei frowned. "That's not my name! I am Serenei Farwynd of Itervia, not 'Ash' or 'Ashley'." The metal man then went on to say that his name was S-7-4-N-dash-F-R-D, but that she could call him Stanford. Apparently, he was the medical chief of the Interloper. Serenei still wasn't quite sure what the Interloper was. He bid her to take a seat, and since he had asked nicely, Serenei supposed that it was only polite to comply with the request. She noticed that many of the men who were also in the room were giving their little group strange looks.

Serenei glanced around for somewhere to sit, and she jumped as a bed seemed to unfold from the wall. Then it turned and shifted until it resembled a chair. Spooked, Serenei stared at it warily before slowly sitting down. Graves and his companion soon left, leaving Serenei with the peculiar metal man.

"Miss Ashley. Now, please, tell me what you know while I take some scans," he said. Serenei swallowed nervously and tried to remain calm as metal objects that moved on their own accord came out of the ceiling and floor. Serenei shied away from the blue light that one of them shone at her.

Serenei took a deep breath. As cold and calm as ice, she reminded herself. "Well, first of all, Mr. Stanford, my name is Serenei Farwynd, not Ashley or Ash," she began slowly. "I am the fourth child of King Lanner and Queen Alaysha Farwynd, the current rulers of the realm of Itervia in the land of Almerinte. I serve as the Lady of the Keep in the royal palace, and my husband is Prince Clarrik, who was formerly Lord Clarrik Harner of the Valley of Ice. My sister is Crown-Princess Marleyna Farwynd, and her husband is a Cyrainese prince named Alran. My oldest brother is the High Priest, and my second brother is Lord Lorgan Icewylle, married to Lady Eyla Icewylle of the Western Icelands." Serenei paused. "I know that I went to sleep in my bedchamber that I share with my husband last night, and that I woke up...here. And I know that the Alumnallen delegation led by Princess Phillipa and Prince Frederick Forrester are due to arrive by midday, so I would very much like to be taken home, if it please you," she finished, her voice breaking slightly at the end.

It was just then that Serenei noticed the light floating in front of her. She frowned. How was that possible? Where was it coming from?

The light seemed to depict a woman with a shapely figure and short, spiky red hair. Her eyes were green, and she was more muscular than a woman had any right to be, though Serenei did have to admit that there were many Alumnallen and Meraliti women who were trained as soldiers alongside the men. Serenei tilted her head to the side and studied the woman made of light. She looked down at her hands, which seemed to resemble those of the light-woman. Serenei's eyes widened, and she patted her hair-it was the same length as the light-woman's.

Snow above...could that be me? No, it can't be. I...I don't look like that!

Before Serenei could say anything, however, a loud, cheery voice came out of nowhere. "Attention, all crew. We will be arriving at Novus in ten seconds," the voice said. Serenei looked from one end of the room to another, finding nobody who could have said such a thing. "W-where did that voice come from?" she asked shakily.

A moment later, the sight of a huge, blue and greenish-yellowish orb caused Serenei to start in alarm. Various objects that looked like rocks floated around it. Stanford glanced out at everything and said that they'd "arrived".

Serenei stared at him. "Arrived? Pray tell, where exactly...are we? This is unlike anything that I have ever seen in my life before."

*****

​Clarrik was puzzled when Serenei began talking about some place in Asgard, but he let the subject matter drop. As long as she isn't actively denouncing the goddesses, he thought.​

Serenei then took up Clarrik's offer to put on a gown, though she did it with an obvious reluctance and an uncharacteristically sarcastic comment. It was quite disconcerting; Serenei loved gowns and dresses. And of course, anyone who could afford to wear gowns wore them. So why was she saying that nobody wore gowns anymore?

​Clarrik quickly forgot about this new case of strange behavior as he watched Serenei take in her reflection. She seemed disturbed. "...Okay. I think...I think I need a lie-down," she told him. Clarrik furrowed his brow. Had she finally realized that something was wrong in the way that she was feeling or acting?​ He noticed that Serenei was shaking, and she was visibly paler than usual.

​Serenei began walking toward the four-poster bed, but she was interrupted by the arrival of Ryne, who immediately ran to his mother and hugged her. Serenei gave Clarrik a helpless, confused look.

Clarrik chuckled and walked over to them, though he could not help but feel slightly disturbed by Serenei's reaction. Normally, she would giggle and hug her son right back. "Ryne! Is that the proper way to greet your mother, the honorable Princess Serenei Farwynd of Itervia?" Clarrik asked the child in a mock-serious voice.

There was a quiet cough at the door. Clarrik looked up to see Bryce Farwynd, the High Priest of Itervia. He stilled. Even Ryne seemed to notice the sudden change in atmosphere, and he hid behind Serenei.

"My lord," Clarrik said smoothly, stepping forward. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Bryce's flinty eyes were the color of the Shimmering Sea during a violent thunderstorm. His head was shaved, as was the custom of all the priests and priestesses of Itervia. "Prince Clarrik," he said stiffly. His eyes moved impassively from Clarrik to Serenei. "Lady Weystermont informed me that my sister was feeling unwell," he continued in a cold, detached voice. "I am here to administer the necessary procedures. I ask that you leave the chamber, once you have a chance to...dress yourself."

Clarrik nodded quickly. "Ah, yes, of course, my lord. " He quickly donned a doublet of silver brocade and pulled on a pair of boots and a pair of trousers behind the screen in one corner of their bedchamber. Then, he scooped Ryne up from his hiding place behind Serenei and gave her a meaningful look. In her current state, who knew what dangerous things she would say in the presence of her brother? Be careful, he mouthed, before turning on his heel and walking out.

​The High Priest glanced at his younger sister, clad solely in a night gown of ivory Meraliti silk. "Shall we begin?" he questioned, striding over to the bed and pulling the hangings aside. ​
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