---

Have you ever wondered if magic was real? If mermaids…dragons…or even fairies, existed once? Maybe they did years ago, or maybe they still did today.
Well? Perhaps you are right.

Perhaps they still exist in a small of a wise old oak tree that had been hollow for decades, near the bank of a river and a small lagoon, with a large field. But it’s all just stories. Or maybe…just maybe…you’re right.

---

“My Queen…you know as well as I that this darkness is spreading, if it reaches the Hollow-“

“It will not.” A sharp voice is heard through the hall of the council, several fairies, leaders, sit around a table, discourse spreading like a weed amongst them.

“Sir Idris. Have I ever failed this kingdom before? Have I ever failed you all before?” The Queen asks, her voice holding thousands of years of knowledge.

Idris sighs, looking down, “…No,” he says softly as she nods, looking to the others around the table who all voice their trust in Celine. “And I never will. Please, trust me on this. Go about your days, take care of the ones I have trusted under your commands.” She says, standing as the others rise alongside her.

One by one, they all leave, except for Lady Dandelion, Celine’s oldest friends. As the large widen doors close, the red haired fairy hovers to her friend, who had sit back down in exasperation. “I don’t know what to do Dandi…” she sighs, “Idris is right, the darkness is drawing nearer. One that I’ve never felt with before.” She says as Dandelion sighs softly, placing a knowing hand on the Queens shoulder, “Then tell the others. We can help. You did not give us these titles for no reason.” She says, a light English accent ringing her voice as Celine nods. “Maybe…call another meeting for tonight. I need to think. For now, go about the day as normal. Fall is coming soon, we need to be ready to meet the deadlines.” She says as Dandelion nods, giving her friend a reassuring squeeze on the should before moving away, leaving the room.

“What will I do…?”

---

Magnolia inhales sharply, her first breath of the new day, sunlight streaming through the window of her cottage.

She scrunches her nose, feeling a heavy weight sitting on her chest. “Muri.” She whispers, “Muri you’re crushing me,” she chuckles slightly as the stunted frog croaks before hopping off and onto the floor.

“Good morning friendly.” She smiles softly, standing up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Alright, today is…” she trails off, getting lost in her thoughts as she moves to her dresser, pulling out her clothes.

“No that was yesterday…” she mumbles, pulling on her dress and arm bands, trying to remember her job for the day before she snaps her fingers, “That’s it,” she hums softly in realization, “The new frogs, your friends, they need their new little mud alcoves. Yes?” She looks to Muricle who stares blankly, blinking one eyes before the other.

“…that’s a yes,” she mumbles, going to the door, hesitating slightly. Maggie rests her forehead on the wood, closing her eyes tightly.
She hated leaving her home…it’s fine, it’s fine, she finishes her job, then she comes home.

“Okay.” She whispers to herself as a pitiful encouragement before walking out the door.

As the morning light began to softly caress the land. In a small section of the Faries land by the pond was a small (by fairy standards) ramshackle shed. It was windowless and doorless, but it was filled with bodies. Specifically, drake bodies. Four massive Mallard drakes laid about in various positions. Their webbed feet sprawled about, and their thick feathered wings were stretched as they slept. Overall, it was a rather peculiar sight if one knew anything about the normal sleeping habits of a duck.

Maybe they slept in such a manner because they had learned it from their keeper?

Blitz himself was hanging upside down. His long strawberry blonde hair softly fluttering about as one of the ducks exhaled as it slept. Somehow Blitz's leg was jammed under a different duck's bill, and it was keeping him aloft in the air. The tiny fairy was snoring with an intensity that would rival an ogre. His sleep peaceful until one of the tiny rays of sun begun to shine directly in his closed eyes.

A small frown crossed his lips as he attempted to turn but hanging in air, he found no purchase with which to twist himself. As he began to move his legs, he became dislodged and fell headfirst onto another duck's wing. Blitz grumbled slightly but wasn't about to allow anyone even himself from catching more sleep as he burrowed deeper into the plumage.

"Just five more minutes Bartholomew..."

He whispered out to one of his still sleeping ducks as the snoring soon began again.

Rainier Dewdrop stood in a small pond on top of a lily pad, arms stretched above his head, wings fluttering softly behind him. He winked at his own reflection in the water. It winked back, naturally. With a flick of his wrist, a perfect ring of dewdrops rose from the pond, hovering in mid-air around him before gently drifting to their assigned spots, flower petals, spiderwebs, grass tips. Another morning masterpiece. Another flawless performance.

He let out a soft sigh, melodramatic but intentional. “Beautiful work, Rainier,” he said aloud to himself, brushing a curl from his forehead. “And so humble, too.”

A nearby frog croaked. Rainier turned, hand on hip. “Thank you, darling. I know.”

He twirled once, water trailing behind him. Then, for no one in particular, he took his blue water-drop pendant, and kissed it for luck before hopping gracefully from one lily pad to the next. There was talk of a fairy market later. He made plans to stop by once his work was finished. Maybe he’d find inspiration… or at least someone cute to flirt with. Either would do nicely.

Caelum Emberhart woke before the sun, as he did each morning for well over a century. It was a ritual—like most things he did—that went mostly unnoticed. Silently, in the predawn hours, he would ascend to the heights of the Hollow with his personal lantern—a living flame contained within the shell of a walnut. Once there, he began once again tending to each and every one of his lanterns throughout the Hollow until his sweep of the ground level was complete—humming gently to himself all the while

He began with the first flame. Opening the mounted lantern, he waved away the fire with practiced ease. Then he cleared out the soot, ash, and whatever else had settled inside the vessel overnight. He inspected the frame, ready to tend or repair any failing element of its construction.

Today, the first stop finally needed attention again. Caelum fluttered beside it, rummaging through the dark messenger bag slung across his shoulder—crafted long ago by the Tinkers, still sturdy despite its wear and coating of ash.

He went to work, rebinding a corner with copper wire. Various items often got lost along the shore, but they had a way of becoming useful—repurposed into quiet legacy.

Once the lantern had been restored, he moved on. And then to the next. And the next. And the next...

By mid morning, Caelum had completed the first of his daily tasks. Around this time, the others would begin to stir. He used the lull to recover before his later duties. Today, he felt like sketching.

After dropping off his bag in the large, hollow log near the banks of the lagoon, he retrieved a sheet of parchment and a dry, sharpened twig. He settled into a reclined position among the gnarled roots of the log—his chair, bed, hammock, depending on the moment.

Once comfortable, he coaxed a small ember from the tip of the twig for just a moment before snuffing it out with a wave, sending smoke dancing upward. In the distance—behind the rising wisps—he noticed a subtle and familiar stirring.

Magnolia.

His gaze shifted across the lagoon. She emerged from her cottage, the little frog trailing behind her in uneven hops.

There was something in the way she stepped—measured, almost like she was trying not to wake the day too quickly.

Caelum recognized it. That quiet negotiation with morning. A small smile settled in, as he watched her path with the kind of attention reserved for things that ask nothing but still matter.

He let the charcoal rest against the parchment. Not to capture her—just the way the Hollow held its breath when she moved.

@Aurkanthis

Loke O’Toole

Loke woke up to the noise of birds chirping outside and slowly opened his eyes, whistling along to the birds’ chirps. “What a lovely song you sing, little birdy.”
Quickly, he got out of bed and started getting dressed. The night before, he had left the Hallow to explore the mortal world. Spending the night exploring the local bars and dancing with the humans he found attractive. Getting his fill of women, men, and beer last night. Today, he would need to help with painting a few homes that were recently built. As he got out of bed, he noticed a note with a phone number that belonged to someone named “Greg”. Loke placed the note somewhere safe to call this person later.

After finishing his breakfast, which consisted of toast with marmite, butter and green tea, he left his room before heading out to the construction site. He brought with him a box filled with paints and brushes. And in his other hand was his shillelagh. He sang a song he had heard the night before, which was now stuck in his head. Greeting another fae that he was working with. “Hello Odorf, what did you do last night?” By this point, Loke had already pulled out everything he would need for the task at hand.

“I was with you at the pub. But I had to leave early because I wasn’t feeling good. Don't you remember?” Odorf said in a Welsh-sounding accent. The short fae shook his head, unsurprised by how much Loke had forgotten.

“Sorry, Odo, I probably had too much to drink to remember that.” He said as the two of them started to paint some houses. Both fae were singing as they were working, getting about halfway before Loke stopped painting. He noticed Caelum sitting near the lagoon. Always been interested in him and his artistic endeavours. He excused himself before walking over towards him. Ignoring Odorf calling for him to come back, and that Sir Elric would be mad at him for not working. But Loke ignored his pleas.

“Boo.Whatcha working on?” He said with a big smile on his face. Leaning on his shillelagh, Caelum tried to get a look at the parchment he was scribbling on.

@Eviledd1984

As the morning went on, Caelum continued his sketch. He had grown content with his initial muse, and now patiently included the area arround until the page was full, which it was approaching as much.

He continued to hum his usual slow-burning elegy—haunting, restrained, and saturated with quiet emotion. Each breath unfurled the melody like smoke lazily listing across the lagoon.

From off to his left, he sensed a familiar presence approaching.

“Boo!” Loke’s familiar lilt—half melody, half trouble—cut through the morning hush. "Whatcha working on?” He leaned onto his usual shillelagh for balance as he peered over the parchment Caelum was consecrating.

He didn’t hide the parchment, nor did he offer it either.

"Good morning, Mister O’Toole,” Caelum quietly hummed—his voice warm in timbre, gradual in cadence. It didn’t need volume to be heard—low, ember-toned, and deliberate.

It was a greeting shaped like ritual, not mere routine.

“Just the lagoon from earlier,” Caelum murmured, continuing to shade a particular tree. “You know I sketch you all, now and then. When the muse is kind.”

He didn’t look up. The tree still needed its shadow.

A moment later, he was satisfied with the shade, lowered the parchment and looked up into the friendly face above.

”What brings you to the lagoon,” Caelum inquired. ”Is there something the Tinkers need of me?”

Magnolia hasn’t expected to feel the strange chill of someone’s eyes on her, but she knew that…something…was in the wind.
Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she could swear that someone was watching her.

She shrugs it off, feeling no need to concern herself. Honestly, there was no sense of danger that came with it, so there didn’t seem to be a reason to be anxious. Unless of course, she would run into him.

Very rarely does Islwyn work in the same areas as her, but their paths did occasionally cross. It drove her mind to insanity, never know when to be on guard.

Muricle bumps her knee slightly and she turns to look down at him, her hair moving around her like a curtain as she chuckles, “Alright, alright you’re right dear.” She hums, patting his head gently, “You are too involved in my worries.” She says softly as almost an after-thought.

Muricles small croaks sound out in a strand, almost as if he is laughing.
“Oh hush you,” she whispers in a tease before turning to the lagoon. She was appointed to the Northern lagoons of the world, and usually finished her duties in a few hours with time to go to the market.

“Practice your swimming as I am away, yes?” She orders as Muricle stares at her for a while before hopping into the lagoon. Magnolia scoffs a light laugh, diving into the lagoon, the first out of 246 lagoons she was meant to help build homes for the new incoming creatures.

She forms an air bubble around her wings, water encasing her as she swims down, starting to form small hollow mud homes, adding extra holes for windows and small pits for the eggs to go.

@Aurkanthis

Loke O’Toole

” Oh, please don’t call me Mr. O’Toole, you can just call me Loke.” The man smiled, enjoying the process of his drawing so far. ” Your sketch looks good so far. Perhaps one day we could do a private session together.” Loke was enjoying watching Caelum sketching. And as he finished speaking, he gave a flirtatious wink to the other male.

Loke then took a seat beside Caelum, still watching him draw. ” I’m just painting some homes that were recently built. My associate is taking care of it while I am on break.” The fae pulled out a pipe, a small baggie of tobacco. "Do you have a light?" He asked Caelum. After Caelum light his pipe, he started blowing impressive looking smoke rings.

He stopped to wave to Muricle and Magnolia. Having interacted with them and found their company to be quite pleasant.

@Eviledd1984

---

Magnolia makes a few more smaller homes before she moves back, admiring her work. Muricle seems to enjoy it to, swimming around happily, his movements a bit slow.
“Come along,” she says softly, pulling her friend into her arms and pushing her legs off the muddy ground, moving up from the lake.

First she sets Muricle on the ground before pulling herself up, her hair dripping and clinging to her skin. “Well, that was a good starts hm?” She says softly, sitting next to Muri.

Feeling eyes on her and the stunted amphibian, she looks up, and directly across, a good couple of yards away, sat Loke and another fairy that she had seen often but never caught the name of.

Occasionally, her and Loke would talk, mostly if she was in the market, but on certain days she would invite him over for tea.
Maggie smiles softly, waving back with one hand, the other pushing the hair from her face

“Oh, please don’t call me Mr. O’Toole,” he replied. “You can just call me Loke.”

The fellow sparrowman continued to smile, peering over to see Caelum’s work near completion.

“Your sketch looks good so far,” Loke continued. “Perhaps one day we could do a private session together.”

Caelum’s hand slowed to a stop. He slowly lifted his head, as if raising a lantern for illumination. Upon eyeing the mischievous grin, Caelum was met with a knowing wink.

He had been thoroughly illuminated.

Caelum gave a subtle, awkward smile that was equal parts uncertain and flattered, and returned to his work. Loke decided to make himself comfortable in the gnarled roots beside him as he did so. It was strange, but mainly… comforting. Caelum never really had visitors. When he did, however, it was a pleasant surprise that he quietly cherished.

“I’m just painting some homes that were recently built,” Loke began to answer Caelum’s question as he pulled something from his pocket.

Caelum used a shard of a pebble to sharpen the remains of his twig as he listened.

“My associate is taking care of it while I am on break.”

It was a pipe and tobacco. Caelum reached up to lend a hand.

“Allow me, Mr. O’Toole.” he muttered, a slight curl to one corner of his mouth.

He put his palm over the finely ground leaves, then moved his hand away to reveal a faint orange glow. A small snaking trail of smoke began to rise. Caelum then used his thumb and index finger to coax a fresh ignition from the freshly whittled twig. A moment of watching a strand of smoke rise, and he snuffed it with a slight wave from his hand. With that, he began the finishing touches, enjoying the friendly company while he finalized the image.

For several moments, they sat in relative hush. Loke puffed on his pipe, and blew shapes with each exhalation. Caelum actually enjoyed that part a lot. Smoke was always fascinating to him.

“You have quite a knack for that,” Caelum observed.

Just then, Magnolia and her companion emerged from the depths and onto the shore. Loke noticed, too, smiling and waving at the pair after they had returned to the bank. Caelum had hoped to remain unnoticed… but when the light caught her—hair clinging like silk, form shimmering as if shaped by the lagoon itself—his concern faded like the smoke shapes from Loke’s pipe.

Caelum gave the fairy a slow nod when she looked their way, with a tiny smile leaking out as he lowered the incomplete page and took up a fresh one, never taking his eyes off of her.

His muse was especially kind today.

Seemingly without thought, his practiced hand began to dance upon the page, as it roughed out a particular pose he had seen her form take as she had emerged—she was almost one with the waters.

The Lagoon itself, incarnate.

After his dewdrop duties were finished, and now he was free to do what he did best: be admired in public. He gracefully floated to the market. The market was already buzzing. Stalls were filled with all kinds of wares.

He strutted past a flower petal vendor, casually letting a few floating bubbles trail behind him for ambiance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Possibly earrings, possibly a soulmate, possibly a very soft scarf. No matter what, he was going to look gorgeous doing it.

Pausing in front of a stall selling crystal-glass trinkets, Rainier let out a small, dramatic sigh and traced a finger along one of the sparkly orbs on display. “Pretty,” he murmured, just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “But not quite as pretty as me.”

He glanced around, hoping someone would overhear. Preferably a cute guy. Rainier adjusted the pendant at his neck, gave his blonde curls a fluff while looking at his reflection in the crystals.

Sir Elric left the meeting with the queen in deep thought. Giving a subtle nod to pixies in passing and observing the state of the hollow as he went. His dark brown eyes eventually drifting over to the small pond. A frown crossed his lips as he saw the water largely still and duck free. He sighed as he made a beeline to the small shed that housed the ducks they used for long distance travel. As he drew closer a small sigh escaped his lips as he saw what could only be described as a mass entanglement of fowl proportions.

How could their duck friends sleep like this?! How was it possibly healthy for them? No doubt this was Blitz's handywork. His eyes scanning the shed as best as he could in the morning light could see nothing of the fairy, though he could definitely hear him. He was surprised the snoring wasn't heard in the Hollow itself. Elric rubbed his brow as his patience was already being tested this early in the morning. Recalling the words of his queen he balled up his fist and slammed it against the doorframe several times yelling.

"ATTENTION!!"

Each of the four ducks snapped to attention as quickly as they could untangle themselves. Each standing straight and proper. From left to right it was Bartholomew, Nicodemus, Theophilus, and Bill. Sir Elric looked confused as even though the four drakes were lined up, he could still hear Blitz snoring away, but he could still not see him. Before he could give it much more thought Nicodemus noticed that Bartholomew's wing feathers were sitting awkwardly, and he lowered his head and nipped the other duck on his rear as an action of admonishment to straighten up in front of the head boss.

A thunderous honk resounded in the tiny shed as Bartholomew flapped his wings in surprise and a small blur rocketed out of the window narrowing avoiding colliding with its frame. A still sleeping Blitz crashed into the still pond with a splash and almost instantly shot out of the water now fully awake. The tiny pixie was shouting slurs and obscenities that likely would have made the queen herself blush and was also complaining about how it wasn't even remotely time for his monthly bath.

Interacting with: @Aurkanthis@Eviledd1984

---

Magnolia isn’t able to make out the small smile that crept onto Caelums face, but she noticed his nod. It was always…refreshing to have normal interactions with other fairies. Ones that aren’t work related.

Of course, it never was work with Loke, just friendly chatter. He, like everyone else in the Hollow, didn’t know much about her, but she was sure Loke figured it out by now.

She blinked away the more depressing thoughts, humming softly as she stands before hovering of the ground slightly. The dull eyes girl debated going and saying hi, seeing as how she didn’t know Caelum, but maybe it would be…enjoyable.

Or she would make a fool of herself. Speak too quiet, or too fast, act too foolish and ridiculous. Magnolia bites the inside of her cheek harshly. If he wanted to talk with her, Loke had an open invite at all times to her cottage, and he could bring whoever he wants, he knew that. The was no reason for her to possibly look stupid.

She nods to them, looking down to Muricle, “Come on dear,” she whispers, her feeling touching the ground as she walks back home, pausing to pick up her friend, who seemed to have gotten too tired to move anywhere.

@Aurkanthis @Adeline

Loke O’Toole

Loke took a seat beside Caelum, his smile becoming bigger as the other fae paused. He took pleasure in the look of shock or fluster on his face. Being impressed that Caelum was able to conjure fire from his fingertips. It was a neat little trick he would love to learn. He took a few deep breaths and blew smoke into various shapes.

The older fae usually wasn’t one for working. And was really only forced by Sir Elric to paint recently constructed homes. If he didn’t do it, then he would be a wandering Fae. Not that it would be a big issue for him.

“Thanks, hun.” Loke said as he blew more smoke rings. He once again peered over towards what he was drawing. “ She’s quite an amazing muse, I would know from personal experience. You have a very keen eye.” Loke had lived for quite a long time, so he had some inclination of Magnolia’s past.

Suddenly, he stood up, making his pipe disappear. And with a flick of his wrist, a violin appeared in his hand. Starting to play a song, performing an impressive jig while he played. Using his eyes and head motions to signal Magnolia to come over.

Interacting with: @Eviledd1984 @Aurkanthis

---

Magnolia pauses upon hearing the music, her arms wrapped tightly around Muricle who seemed comfortable enough. “Oh gosh…should we go say hi?” She whispers to her friend, glancing down at him.
She didn’t know what Loke could possibly want, but he was a…friend of sorts. Even if she didn’t know Caelum, she trusted Loke.

Muricle croaks, squirming out of her grasp and messily hopping over. Maggie sighs softly, punishing the bridge of her nose. “Alright…” she sighs, walking over to the pair, her hair and dress still clinging to her skin.

“Hello,” she says softly to the pair, but not attempting to interrupt the song.

---

Interacting with: @Tally Dor

Sir Elric lets out a long exasperated breath, his amber eyes narrowing onto the form of the young fairy that was cursing up a storm. “Ahem!” He clears his throat in a sharp and pointed way, his hand behind his back.

“Mr. Blitz. We have talked about this.” He manages through his frustration. “These animals have a schedule. You have a schedule. You cannot simply sleep through all hours of the day!” He states, his tone growing louder with each word, his accent thick and gravelly.

Interacting with: @Azure Bubbles

---

Orion has had an unusually aggravating morning. Lady Dandelion had already gotten into him about not being diligent enough when keeping up with the tree growth in the Hollow, and the group he was meant to be working with entirely ostracized him. It was hardly noon, and he was already done with this whole day.
One day…one day he would leave this place.

As he walked along in the market, a few vendors gave him warning looks with their eyes narrowed. Oh come on…he stole one stupid trinket that he can’t even remember and suddenly everyone’s a critic.

The tall fairy rolls his eyes, his hands in the pockets of his dark mole skin pants, his top a mouse coat vest that he left open, his built, tan chest exposed to the market.

He continues to walk when his eyes land on a water fairy. He can hear his voice but not make out the words…this could be fun…

“You seem interested in that little crystal.” He says, coming up behind the boy with blonde hair

@Adeline @Eviledd1984

---

“She’s quite an amazing muse,” Loke began. “I would know from personal experience. You have a very keen eye.”

I couldn’t agree more, Caelum thought.

Loke had lived several centuries longer. The older Caelum got, the more he found he understood his elder. He did his best to gradually be more and more carefree.

Caelum continued his sketch, his head lowered—hiding a soft smile—over his charcoal sketches, his eyes occasionally glancing up across the lagoon.

A moment later, Loke sprung up, swapped his pipe for his violin in an instant, and began to play and dance. Jarring, perhaps, but not when one was familiar with this particular sparrowman.

Caelum raised his head and lowered his paper, his smile widening at the Lagoon’s sudden bloom of jovial levity. As he watched, he noted Loke’s face beckoning across the way. Caelum’s own darted in that direction as well. Suddenly… something was pulling him across the Lagoon.

The Lagoon Fairy had faltered briefly as Loke began his jig; and with her so did that new feeling. It shuttered within his chest, like the flame of a lantern desperately clinging to life in a strong gust.

The feeling grew once more as the little frog burst forth from her arms and happily hopped its way over with its unusual, determined gait. He watched her sigh with resigned exasperation, and felt the moment settle. Caelum’s flame recovered, that unknown feeling growing anew.

Thanks, little one, Caelum thought, his gaze softening toward the frogling who had carried the moment across.

Caelum became aware of the sketches in his hand once again. He glanced down at the paper, suddenly aware of how visible it was. The sketch—half-formed, honest—caught in the open air like a secret whispered too loud.

His hand twitched, the instinct to shield it rising like a blush. But he didn’t. Not fully. The paper tilted. His fingers lingered. The image remained half-shown.

Because… why? He dared to be more like Loke, even if only a little. After all, he sketched what the Hollow gave him; and today, it had given him her.

Caelum’s face didn’t betray his gently fluttering heart. That was until she had arrived in all her shimmering, soaking glory and barely uttered the word:

“Hello.”

It was as if his sketches had finally spokem back. His typical mask only faltered slightly, and only for the tiniest moment. Her voice—so close now—and the scent of the Lagoon clung to her, carried on the subtle breeze stirred by her vibrant wings. Caelum’s face betrayed the joy they brought, if only for a flicker.

Almost inaudible over the joyous din of Loke’s fiddle, Caelum had instinctively leaned in, unwilling to miss the hushed sound of her voice—one he’d only ever heard in fragments, carried across the water to his home like drifting notes of a half-remembered song. Had he not seen her mouth move, he might have missed it entirely.

“Welcome,” Caelum replied, mirroring her simple greeting in a low tone. His natural timbre—deeper than hers—and a deliberate, slight over-enunciation helped carry his word a little better over the song.

“It’s,” he began slowly, “nice to finally meet you.”

He had been searching for the right words—hoping not to scorch the moment with too hot a flame now that it had finally arrived. His usual demeanor had remained intact, though his words were flecked with just a touch more warmth than he had anticipated. Unintentional... but not regrettable. His sincerity had flickered through, steady and warm.

He now simply watched and listened, with the slightest smile peacefully resting on his face.

Hope.

That was the nameless thing he was feeling. Not new. Just forgotten. Like an abandoned campfire rekindled after a long, quiet dusk.

Interacting with:@Aurkanthis@Eviledd1984

---

Magnolia hadn’t expected her presence to fully be acknowledged. Not for any reason in particular, but simply because she was used to not having to be so…social.
Her eyes lock onto Caelum as he speaks, his voice washing over her like waves of the oceans kissed by the heat of a thousand suns. “Welcome,” he speaks in the same tone as her, although it is not mocking as she may have expected. The delightful sound of Loke’s fiddle fills the air as Magnolia seems to be caught fully in the trance of Caelums voice.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says, speaking a bit slow to make sure his words are heard woven in the melody that floats in the air.

Before she thinks to respond, her eyes are torn to the paper in his lap, not shielded from her vision.
Her mouth parts slightly in shock as she sees the image he had brought to life onto the sheet.

Is that…her…?

Magnolias eyes snap back to Caelums. No. That wouldn’t make sense would it? He is quite talented though, his muse is certainly blessed.

“It is nice to meet you as well.” She smiles, still standing, although her form is more relaxed.“I’m Magnolia,” she says, a honey like French accent ringing out at the end of each word.

And it certainly was nice to meet him. Maggie wasn’t quite sure as to why, perhaps it was the bewitching rhythm of Loke’s fiddle, but she was entirely ensnared in Caelums gaze.
Finally after what felt like much longer than it was, she tears her eyes away, picking up Muricle.

“And this is Muricle…he is a frog.”

What…what the fuck was that?!
Magnolia curses herself on the inside of her thoughts. Well no fucking shit Muri was a frog, the hell?
Internally, she begged for Loke to stop her from making a larger fool of herself.

Rainier didn’t jump. Jumping was for people caught off guard, and Rainier Dewdrop was never caught off guard. Rainier’s lingered on the crystal orb just a moment longer. “Oh, this little thing?” Rainier said airily. “It’s pretty, yes. Shiny, reflective, dramatic. I relate.”

He turned around slowly, too look at the person talking to him, and oh he was gorgeous. Broad shoulders, exposed chest, broody eyes. Yes he would do nicely. “But now I’m wondering if it pales in comparison to the boldness of someone sneaking up behind me without an introduction.”

His eyes scanned up from the exposed chest to his handsome face, and smirked. One hand rested on his hip, and the other brushing a curl from his forehead. “Rainier Dewdrop. Water Fairy, local artist, certified drama king. And who might you be, mystery man?” He leaned in close to mystery fairy’s face. “Or should I just keep calling you Handsome until you correct me?”

@Adeline

Interacting with: @Azure Bubbles as Orion

---

Orion raises a brow, a small amused grin growing on his face as the water fairy leans in. He was…certainly something. With golden hair and an attitude that definitely caught his attention.
Orion liked that. Feisty. A challenge. Maybe useful.

He doesn’t talk for a moment, his eyes very plainly and unapologetically moving down and up the fairy’s body before going back to his eyes. He hums, leaning in along with Rainier.

“Well, Rain I could tell you my name, but I think I like what you’re calling me more.” He states, his voice low, just above his breath before he straightens up, holding a hand out, his posture lazy, “Orion.”