I tried to find a dark academia esque blondie, but I'd already chosen auburn before the other sheets were submitted and the search wasn't going well. Consider Emmy a redhead for the plot lol
Analytical Thinking ⫻ Emmy is able to analyze situations, problems, or social interactions quickly. Emotional Intelligence ⫻ Emmy is great at picking up on the emotions of others or her own emotions, and can use this to resolve conflicts, communicate effectively, or regulate her emotions in response to stressful situations. Adaptability ⫻ Emmy is able to adapt to situations quickly in order to fulfill her needs. This includes learning information or a new skill, or simply figuring out how she can physically accomplish something that her body normally couldn't.
Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "My father sees her every time he looks at me."
Born from an Elven mother, Emmy possesses the fox-like features of high cheekbones, long and slender limbs, slanted eyes, and pointed ears that are associated with Elves. Besides her human nature, the only thing she has inherited from her father are his dark green eyes and his button nose. Her figure is slim, with subtle curves where her long torso meets her hips. What little muscle she has is held in her legs because she prefers to walk when her body allows it. Her skin is fair, yet it develops a tan during the sunny months of summer. The only scar on her body is faded, sitting on her left temple from a fainting spell as a child.
Her hair, like her mothers, cascades in sleek, auburn waves down to the middle of her back that flashes red in the sunlight. She braids it to protect it from tangles on windy days, pins it up with a clip, or ties half of it back with a ribbon when she wants it out of her face. As for makeup, Emmy prefers to keep her face clean. She simply brushes her slim brows out and applies mascara and she's ready for the day.
Although she stands at 5'4" in her comfortable ballet flats or sandals, in the colder months Emmy often wears boots that add an extra inch or two to her height. Her style overall screams student, as she prefers timeless academia pieces that add layers to basic tee's or button-ups. She'll layer these basics with sweaters, vests, cardigans, or jackets. She wears jeans and short skirts in the warmer months, and opts for trousers or long skirts in colder weather. She prefers to wear modest pieces, but will occasionally layer a jacket or blazer over a satin tank or dress in the summer. The color palette of her clothing sticks to neutrals, with pops of reds, blues, and greens mixed into her wardrobe.
Emmy has recently started pairing thin gloves with her outfits, and if anyone asks, she tells them that her hands are just cold.
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Appreciate what you have, because the future is always uncertain."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ For now, Emmy wishes to finish her literature degree. Beyond that, Emmy is unsure whether she wants to teach or open her own bookstore in Twin Peaks. She'd love to travel the world, but her condition has kept her from straying far from home. Perhaps one day she'll brave the unknown despite her limitations.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Emmy lives with a quiet strength. Her condition has taught her that time is precious, so she lives each day as it comes and practices patience with her body's needs. While she's been well taken care of by her father since she was a child, she knows that she must be independent in her own struggles in order to begin her own life. She often pushes herself to live as normal as possible despite her needs. She's also aware of the privilege she has, and is grateful for it, but she does her best to be humble despite it. She believes that everyone should be treated with the same kindness and respect no matter who their family is or how much money they have.
SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ Emmy doesn't like to talk about the points of her ears because she believes that her mother left because of her illness. She often covers her ears with her hair or hats just to avoid the conversation.
Emmy is also afraid of heights.
Not so much of a secret if you look at her wardrobe, or know who her father is, but Emmy isn't forthright about the status of her bank account.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight, but her eyes have been known to wander
WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ It was fortunate that Emmy's magic awakened in the evening, while she was resting by the window with a book in hand. It was equally unfortunate that within one minute, the book began to rapidly decay within her hands. The pages began to yellow, the ink began to fade, and the binding came undone and cracked where it had been bent. It disintegrated between her fingers and fell into her lap like ashes.
She was stunned, confused, and horribly disappointed that a relatively new book was suddenly destroyed. Still, what was she to do but clean up the mess and plan to buy the replacement the next day? Something must have been wrong with the book, right?
Little did she know, it wasn't the book that was to blame.
Over the next few days, she noticed subtle changes in the things she would touch. Her toothbrush, near the end of it's use when she began, suddenly looked brand new after she brushed her teeth. The wooden handrail she would hold onto while going down the stairs looked shiny and new in some places, and worn in others. Her slippers, well-worn but with plenty of life left to them, fell apart the moment she put her feet inside of them. She even noticed that she was able to predict the time on her watch before she'd even looked at it. She could feel how much time had passed since she'd laid down for a nap. She was also much better at being on time for class.
When the mysterious envelope arrived a week after the first bizarre incident, everything clicked into place as the letter slowly disintegrated into her lap. Just like the book had done a week earlier.
FLAWS ⫻ Her illness plays a huge part in the flaws that Emmy presents. She's been humbled by her condition many times throughout her life. Unable to play sports or engage in many social events, Emmy has become a bit of a bookworm and has grown comfortable living quietly. It's become hard for her to break from her usual routine, so she hasn't tried anything new in a long time.
Backstory ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Twin Pines is all I've known."
The Longwell's have been a consistent name in the history of Twin Pines. The family business has dabbled in many areas within the city. It began first with the fishing docks, hiring boats and men to bring back a catch worth a profit, and then began to invest in the many tourist spots like restaurants and museums in the town. It has always remained a family name that carries respect within the business owners of Twin Pines. By the time that Emmy's father began to step into his own father's place within the business, the family had enough investments and property ownership that they were within the top percentage of wealth.
Emmeline's mother was travelling through the states when she found herself staying in the lakeside city. She loved it's rustic and cozy atmosphere, and even found love with a human man during her visit. She extended her stay in Twin Pines indefinitely, and soon the two were wed with a little girl on the way. They purchased their own home at the top of the hill that borders the fishing docks and ensured that little Emmeline would be comfortable in life. Her father put all of his efforts into the business, while her mother collected many books and pieces of art that would enrich Emmy's mind from a young age.
Emmy grew up well-fed, well-taught, and as happy as she could be. It was only when her illness began to present itself that the troubles began. She quickly tired, and suffered from headaches, shortness of breath, dizziness, and fainting spells. Her parents took her to many doctors, but it would take a year for them to get a proper diagnosis. By then they had already chosen to homeschool Emmy, and their happy little girl had become a shell of who she once was. They'd run themselves ragged looking for answers, and it had put a strain on the marriage that they couldn't return from. Emmy's mother left after a few months, leaving her father to pour himself into his work so that he could provide for Emmy and her condition.
With his love and constant support, Emmy soon began to find a balance between her illness and leading a normal life. With little to do otherwise, she became an exceptional student and eventually found friends through the other homeschooled children or in the bookstores or cafes she would frequent. She applied for college, and began to slowly work on her degree by taking classes part time to avoid overworking herself. She is now on her final year in her degree, and must decide for herself what her future will bring.
Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Please don't ask about the gloves, please don't ask about the gloves..."
MAGIC ⫻ Chronomancy The perception and manipulation of time.
MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻
Perception: The ability to feel and perceive time passing like an internal clock. This is a passive ability, but it is useful when applying other chronomancy skills. The user is able to perceive how much time they are manipulating or how much time has passed since they began to use their magic.
Manipulation: The ability to manipulate time by reversing, slowing, accelerating, or freezing time. This can apply to anything the user comes into contact with. If ink or paint has been erased or smudged, the user can reverse time to make the word or art readable again. If something has broken or aged past it's usefulness, the user can reverse time to restore the object to it's original state. If the user wishes to dismantle the object, they can reverse time on it to return it to the separate parts that make the object a whole. Also, if they wish to destroy an object, they can accelerate the effects of time on said object and it will decay within their grasp.
LIMITS ⫻
Perception: At the moment, Emmy is only able to sense time passively or through her use of magic. Because her magic has just recently awakened, she is still getting the grasp of perceiving how much time she is manipulating on an object. This means that she may not achieve the desired aging or de-aging of said object and could potentially alter it too much or not enough.
Manipulation: Emmy has not been able to slow or freeze time. She also has not been able to affect the space around her nor anything living. She is only able to affect tangible objects at this moment, and she must maintain physical contact with the object she is manipulating until she has finished. She can only affect one object at a time, and is only able to affect an object as large as a small car. The amount of time that she manipulates, and the size of the object she manipulates, affects the energy levels she has or can cause her to develop a headache. Emmy also wears gloves when she is out in public because she is not yet able to control her magic.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ Once an object has begun to undergo this time magic it is hard for Emmy to stop it. As well, without further practice and control she runs the real risk of accidentally aging something too much or too little. For example, if someone needed to be reverted five minutes to heal a fatal wound she could accidentally send them back five years.
Other ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "This is where the acknowledgements would go."
Aesthetic Inspo: Click Here Faceclaim: Blanca Soler Color: 7B68EE
Analytical Thinking ⫻ Emmy is able to analyze situations, problems, or social interactions quickly. Emotional Intelligence ⫻ Emmy is great at picking up on the emotions of others or her own emotions, and can use this to resolve conflicts, communicate effectively, or regulate her emotions in response to stressful situations. Adaptability ⫻ Emmy is able to adapt to situations quickly in order to fulfill her needs. This includes learning information or a new skill, or simply figuring out how she can physically accomplish something that her body normally couldn't.
Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "My father sees her every time he looks at me."
Born from an Elven mother, Emmy possesses the fox-like features of high cheekbones, long and slender limbs, slanted eyes, and pointed ears that are associated with Elves. Besides her human nature, the only thing she has inherited from her father are his dark green eyes and his button nose. Her figure is slim, with subtle curves where her long torso meets her hips. What little muscle she has is held in her legs because she prefers to walk when her body allows it. Her skin is fair, yet it develops a tan during the sunny months of summer. The only scar on her body is faded, sitting on her left temple from a fainting spell as a child.
Her hair, like her mothers, cascades in sleek, auburn waves down to the middle of her back that flashes red in the sunlight. She braids it to protect it from tangles on windy days, pins it up with a clip, or ties half of it back with a ribbon when she wants it out of her face. As for makeup, Emmy prefers to keep her face clean. She simply brushes her slim brows out and applies mascara and she's ready for the day.
Although she stands at 5'4" in her comfortable ballet flats or sandals, in the colder months Emmy often wears boots that add an extra inch or two to her height. Her style overall screams student, as she prefers timeless academia pieces that add layers to basic tee's or button-ups. She'll layer these basics with sweaters, vests, cardigans, or jackets. She wears jeans and short skirts in the warmer months, and opts for trousers or long skirts in colder weather. She prefers to wear modest pieces, but will occasionally layer a jacket or blazer over a satin tank or dress in the summer. The color palette of her clothing sticks to neutrals, with pops of reds, blues, and greens mixed into her wardrobe.
Emmy has recently started pairing thin gloves with her outfits, and if anyone asks, she tells them that her hands are just cold.
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Appreciate what you have, because the future is always uncertain."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ For now, Emmy wishes to finish her literature degree. Beyond that, Emmy is unsure whether she wants to teach or open her own bookstore in Twin Peaks. She'd love to travel the world, but her condition has kept her from straying far from home. Perhaps one day she'll brave the unknown despite her limitations.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Emmy lives with a quiet strength. Her condition has taught her that time is precious, so she lives each day as it comes and practices patience with her body's needs. While she's been well taken care of by her father since she was a child, she knows that she must be independent in her own struggles in order to begin her own life. She often pushes herself to live as normal as possible despite her needs. She's also aware of the privilege she has, and is grateful for it, but she does her best to be humble despite it. She believes that everyone should be treated with the same kindness and respect no matter who their family is or how much money they have.
SECRETS AND FEARS ⫻ Emmy doesn't like to talk about the points of her ears because she believes that her mother left because of her illness. She often covers her ears with her hair or hats just to avoid the conversation.
Emmy is also afraid of heights.
Not so much of a secret if you look at her wardrobe, or know who her father is, but Emmy isn't forthright about the status of her bank account.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight, but her eyes have been known to wander
WHAT WAS THE FIRST DAY WITH MAGIC LIKE? ⫻ It was fortunate that Emmy's magic awakened in the evening, while she was resting by the window with a book in hand. It was equally unfortunate that within one minute, the book began to rapidly decay within her hands. The pages began to yellow, the ink began to fade, and the binding came undone and cracked where it had been bent. It disintegrated between her fingers and fell into her lap like ashes.
She was stunned, confused, and horribly disappointed that a relatively new book was suddenly destroyed. Still, what was she to do but clean up the mess and plan to buy the replacement the next day? Something must have been wrong with the book, right?
Little did she know, it wasn't the book that was to blame.
Over the next few days, she noticed subtle changes in the things she would touch. Her toothbrush, near the end of it's use when she began, suddenly looked brand new after she brushed her teeth. The wooden handrail she would hold onto while going down the stairs looked shiny and new in some places, and worn in others. Her slippers, well-worn but with plenty of life left to them, fell apart the moment she put her feet inside of them. She even noticed that she was able to predict the time on her watch before she'd even looked at it. She could feel how much time had passed since she'd laid down for a nap. She was also much better at being on time for class.
When the mysterious envelope arrived a week after the first bizarre incident, everything clicked into place as the letter slowly disintegrated into her lap. Just like the book had done a week earlier.
FLAWS ⫻ Her illness plays a huge part in the flaws that Emmy presents. She's been humbled by her condition many times throughout her life. Unable to play sports or engage in many social events, Emmy has become a bit of a bookworm and has grown comfortable living quietly. It's become hard for her to break from her usual routine, so she hasn't tried anything new in a long time.
Backstory ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Twin Pines is all I've known."
The Longwell's have been a consistent name in the history of Twin Pines. The family business has dabbled in many areas within the city. It began first with the fishing docks, hiring boats and men to bring back a catch worth a profit, and then began to invest in the many tourist spots like restaurants and museums in the town. It has always remained a family name that carries respect within the business owners of Twin Pines. By the time that Emmy's father began to step into his own father's place within the business, the family had enough investments and property ownership that they were within the top percentage of wealth.
Emmeline's mother was travelling through the states when she found herself staying in the lakeside city. She loved it's rustic and cozy atmosphere, and even found love with a human man during her visit. She extended her stay in Twin Pines indefinitely, and soon the two were wed with a little girl on the way. They purchased their own home at the top of the hill that borders the fishing docks and ensured that little Emmeline would be comfortable in life. Her father put all of his efforts into the business, while her mother collected many books and pieces of art that would enrich Emmy's mind from a young age.
Emmy grew up well-fed, well-taught, and as happy as she could be. It was only when her illness began to present itself that the troubles began. She quickly tired, and suffered from headaches, shortness of breath, dizziness, and fainting spells. Her parents took her to many doctors, but it would take a year for them to get a proper diagnosis. By then they had already chosen to homeschool Emmy, and their happy little girl had become a shell of who she once was. They'd run themselves ragged looking for answers, and it had put a strain on the marriage that they couldn't return from. Emmy's mother left after a few months, leaving her father to pour himself into his work so that he could provide for Emmy and her condition.
With his love and constant support, Emmy soon began to find a balance between her illness and leading a normal life. With little to do otherwise, she became an exceptional student and eventually found friends through the other homeschooled children or in the bookstores or cafes she would frequent. She applied for college, and began to slowly work on her degree by taking classes part time to avoid overworking herself. She is now on her final year in her degree, and must decide for herself what her future will bring.
Magic ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Please don't ask about the gloves, please don't ask about the gloves..."
MAGIC ⫻ Chronomancy The perception and manipulation of time.
MAGIC DESCRIPTION ⫻
Perception: The ability to feel and perceive time passing like an internal clock. This is a passive ability, but it is useful when applying other chronomancy skills. The user is able to perceive how much time they are manipulating or how much time has passed since they began to use their magic.
Manipulation: The ability to manipulate time by reversing, slowing, accelerating, or freezing time. This can apply to anything the user comes into contact with. If ink or paint has been erased or smudged, the user can reverse time to make the word or art readable again. If something has broken or aged past it's usefulness, the user can reverse time to restore the object to it's original state. If the user wishes to dismantle the object, they can reverse time on it to return it to the separate parts that make the object a whole. Also, if they wish to destroy an object, they can accelerate the effects of time on said object and it will decay within their grasp.
LIMITS ⫻
Perception: At the moment, Emmy is only able to sense time passively or through her use of magic. Because her magic has just recently awakened, she is still getting the grasp of perceiving how much time she is manipulating on an object. This means that she may not achieve the desired aging or de-aging of said object and could potentially alter it too much or not enough.
Manipulation: Emmy has not been able to slow or freeze time. She also has not been able to affect the space around her nor anything living. She is only able to affect tangible objects at this moment, and she must maintain physical contact with the object she is manipulating until she has finished. She can only affect one object at a time, and is only able to affect an object as large as the wheel of a car. The amount of time that she manipulates, and the size of the object she manipulates, affects the energy levels she has or can cause her to develop a headache. Emmy also wears gloves when she is out in public because she is not yet able to control her magic.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)
Other ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "This is where the acknowledgements would go."
Aesthetic Inspo: Click Here Faceclaim: Blanca Soler Color: 7B68EE
Human: #5.069 I’d Love You Without Any Wings Attached
Interaction(s):N/A
Previously:Growing Vanes
The crackling of fire in the hearth was gentle as it reached Haven’s ears. Daylight warmed her bare skin where she laid across the bed. Her head rested flat against the mattress. Rory’s firm chest had been replaced by the cotton sheets beneath her.
Sleep had fallen onto her like a heavy blanket last night. No nightmare touched her in her peaceful sleep. If she’d had any dreams, she couldn’t recall them. Her mind felt rested and at ease; her body languid and loose throughout. A stark contrast to the usual tension she held in her shoulders and back since coming to the cabin. She hadn’t even felt Rory leave the bed, she realized, as her hand splayed open to search for him beside her.
Her eyes opened slowly, blinking once as they adjusted to the bright light streaming through the window. Outside the sun shone down through the yellow and green treetops. The forest wall was brightly illuminated by the afternoon light, save for the few shadows the branches and leaves cast on the ground beneath them. She’d slept longer than she expected to. As if her body was catching up on weeks of interrupted sleep, exhausting days of travel, and an eventful night of growth and rekindled passion.
The sound of wheels rolling over wood caught her attention then, soon followed by the soft clinking of silverware in the sink. It brought a smile to her face to hear Rory moving within the cabin. It grew wider as she remembered the feel of him last night, and the words that they’d shared with each other before she had closed her eyes.
Had he heard her say them? Did the admission carry him into the same blissful rest that had come over her?
Haven roused from her position on the bed to go to him, to remind him of those words. Only for her muscles to ache and protest the movement in a reminder of the display of her hype gene so many hours ago. She groaned softly as she sat upright. Her legs shifted to hang off the side of the bed. Before she even dared to stand, her hands moved to rub at her sore shoulders and back. The muscles there had taken the brunt of the development. In an effort to test the pain, she stretched out her arms and wings beside her. Her eyes fell shut as she felt the shifting of her muscles beneath the integument. Her small wings weighed heavily on her back; their muscles fully developed for their size but not yet trained to hold themselves up naturally. She’d have to work on honing them like she’d done many years ago. Which, she could only hope, would be a lot easier this time. Her feathered limbs returned to lazily rest at her back as she ran her fingers through her messy hair.
She’d gotten enough sleep to rest her mind, but it seemed like her body needed more time to recover. The thought sparked the usual million questions within her mind. Questions that wanted to ruin the happiness of last night and the quiet of this morning. Questions that would make the tension return in her shoulders.
Rory called her over for lunch, then, having noticed she was awake. His voice easily calmed her mind. She stood from the bed, moving to pull on a clean shirt and underwear, and was surprised to find that the dirt was gone from the floors already. She looked Rory’s way, and her smile returned as her heart warmed. Her worries faded into the back of her mind. The ache in her muscles dulled with each step she took to get to him. Her gaze turned to two plates he set on the table, each of them adorned with a sandwich and a pile of chips. A pang of hunger hit her in her stomach like a fist and her stomach growled in response.
A sheepish grin formed on her lips as Haven looked back to Rory, which seemed to be contagious as he gave her a goofy grin in return. The sight distracted her from her hunger, easily. She leaned down to greet him with a gentle kiss upon his lips. Her hands lifted to rest on his broad shoulders, and she soon felt his fingers graze her hips. The sensation that spread across her skin had her kissing him deeper. His hand firmly took hold of her hip now as the other moved to push her hair back from her face, gently pushing it to the back of her neck where he pulled her further into the kiss. She moved closer to him on instinct. Her hands squeezed his shoulders as she lifted one knee and rested it beside his leg. All thoughts consumed by his touch, by the need to get closer to him as she felt a different type of hunger take hold of her.
Her stomach growled louder, as if it was annoyed by the delay.
Their kiss was broken by soft laughter, the two lovers taking a deep breath as they reigned in their desires to focus on the meal. Rory positioned his wheelchair at the head of the table while Haven took the seat catty-corner to him. She wasted no time pulling the plate closer to her. Her fingers took the soft bread into hand and she tried her best to eat it slowly.
It was a simple sandwich, with mayo, a slice of cheese, and two slices of sweet ham placed between white bread. Somehow, to Haven’s current appetite, it tasted like heaven on her tongue. She had always thought that sandwiches taste better when someone else made them for her, anyways. So she happily ate it, and took her time eating the chips as Rory finished his lunch.
She thanked Rory for lunch by crawling into his lap.
Haven brought in more wood for the fire as Rory cleaned up the mess from lunch. Rory finished before her, of course, because she’d gotten distracted by the beauty of the fall colors outside. The forest seemed to call to her now, more than it ever had before. She brought in more than wood, having gathered a few lingering blooms among the aspens and pines. She cut them small, and placed them in the tallest glass with a bit of water at the bottom. One particular flower stood taller than the rest, resembling a paintbrush that reminded her of her sister.
Harper.
She wondered if anyone had answered her texts yet as she sat at the table, admiring the flowers she’d brought in. If they truly didn’t have service at the cabin, she’d have to wait until she went into town to find out. Aurora surely would have texted back by now, but Harper? She wasn’t even sure if there was a cell signal beneath the waters of the Atlantic. How could she know that Harper was safe there? That anyone that had chosen to go to The Foundation were welcomed with open arms?
Rory’s touch on her shoulder brought her back to the present. As if he’d seen the way her face fell and thought to pull her out of the darkness of them. She turned to him, offering a small smile, before she distracted herself from what had been bothering her by suggesting they tackle the laundry. Thankfully, he accepted the deflection.
Hand-washing laundry wasn’t new to Haven. She may not have done it right when she lived on her own, but she never let her clothes get entirely filthy. For Rory, though, it was a new experience. Haven sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, smiling at her partner where he placed himself in the same spot as last night. Each of them thinking of what they’d done together in the bath the night before, and trying their best to focus on the chore instead of the temptation to recreate it. She started scrubbing with him, sharing the story of the first time she’d washed her own clothes in a cabin similar to this one. Once they’d gotten through enough clothes, Haven carried the damp fabric out to the hearth where she hung them on the chairs and laid them on the table to dry by the heat of the fire. In between trips she’d linger to place a kiss on Rory’s forehead, or his lips, or allow their hands to wander across each other as the tension between them grew.
By the time they finished, the sun was setting. Haven made grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. One of her specialties, she explained to him. It had always been a cheap and easy meal to make, for both her mother and herself when she was younger. The two ate together by the fire. She’d pulled the rocking chair over to face him, with her feet resting on the space between his legs as the two enjoyed the cheesy meal.
Haven cleaned the dishes while Rory ran another round of hot water for their bath. They repeated the routine of last night, the two of them undressing each other with tender kisses and wandering hands. As Haven lowered herself into the tub once more, she was gently surprised by Rory’s hands against the skin of her back and not her feathers. He massaged the sore muscles with firm ministrations that had Haven melting into the water. Soon his hands were replaced by a soapy washcloth, as he washed away the day’s sweat for her. She turned around when he finished. Her hand took the cloth from his and she set to treating him to the same luxury he’d afforded her.
They managed to make it to the bed before the tension broke between them. The lovers exchanged those three wonderful words many, many times, before their shared exhaustion pulled them under.
Location: Elysium Island Interactions:Lily, Ruby, etc. @Mixtape Ghost N
The black hairpin, now holding the power of a titanic apparition within it, was carefully tucked into the pocket of her skirt as Liz listened to the cheering of the others. She would have felt their joy, but her mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she’d even managed to seal it in the first place.
Her body, which had buzzed with raw energy only moments ago, now felt almost hollow as she returned to her natural state of being. Her disappointment in her own strength flashed briefly on her face until she felt the dreaded woman’s arms wrap around her in a celebratory embrace. This time it wasn’t as awkward as before, and yet Liz didn’t return the hug as she looked up to the amplifier with her lips spread in a half-smile as she heard Broseidon compliment her work.
She’d just successfully sealed an apparition on her own. Lyss would have been cheering too, if she were here.
The bittersweet thought only lasted a moment before the air on the island sent a chill down her spine. She immediately frowned, knowing something was up before that something came into existence. Her head turned to survey the field, preparing herself for another attack, before the sound of water crashing onto sand drew her attention towards the island’s small beach.
Just beyond the sand, the sea began to convulse where an unnatural mass of black and purple emerged from the depths. Liz stared at the energy with wide eyes, somehow knowing that this was the work of the necromancer that had summoned a horde of undead to do their bidding, and couldn’t control the inferiority she felt gurgling in her stomach at the sight of what he summoned.
Her body tensed as yellowed bone emerged from the water bit by horrifyingly large bit. She took a step back as only a hand emerged, realizing just how big this undead was going to be with a small gasp as it continued to rise and rise from the ocean. Her head tilted back, back, back to follow the empty sockets that glowed with an unnatural light as it rose to full height. She could hardly hear the Holy Fuck! that her thoughts shouted, let alone the words of the dreaded woman beside her, as it released a roar that shook her bones.
Get rid of that? How?
The best she could offer was to give it something to fight until they could escape from this hellish island and get far, faar away from both the skeleton and the black lux user that had summoned it. Even if she knew how to banish the black lux freak, it would take about two or three of herself to do so even with the amplifier’s help.
The skeleton stomped its feet, and Liz felt the ground beneath her tremble. The roar shook her to her core once more. Her body was telling her to run and yet she was stuck in place. Her mary janes frozen to the ground by the awe and horror of what she was facing. The adrenaline left by the power boost was replaced by an unsettled feeling in her chest. Not quite fearful, but also not confident in her own ability to stop the skeleton before it unleashed itself on them.
She really needed to get her hands on the Burns Spellbook if she was going to face a strong magic user like this again.
“I need another boost–”
Her request was cut short as the colossal undead plunged for the island. She reached for the amplifier’s arm to pull her backwards, desperate to keep her only hope of stopping the skeleton from being crushed by its bony fists, but she didn’t make it before the fists impacted the dense sand of the beach with a sudden boom.
The island jerked beneath her feet with the powerful blow. Liz, already weak in the knees with shock, lost her balance and found herself falling the short distance between her full height and the earth. She landed right on her ass as her hands hit the grass behind her to keep her from tumbling further.
“Hound, save us!” She blurted out, her composure shattering for a moment. She couldn’t believe she was still alive. That the skeleton had aimed just short of them. She knew they didn’t have much time left.
“Boost me, now!” She shouted to the dreaded woman as she scrambled to her knees. “I’ll give it something to fight while we get the fuck out of here.”
Her palms pressed into the earth, crystal blue eyes filled with an instinctual need to fight or flight already closing as she prepared herself to summon the largest golem possible with the energy that the amplifier would provide. Hopefully soon.
Otherwise she would surely meet the Hound before she was ready.
Location: Elysium Island Interactions:Lily, Ruby, etc. @Mixtape Ghost N
Liz blew her sigh of relief out through her nose the moment that the group’s amplifier spoke up. Her faux confidence had already started to crumble under the other woman’s narrowed gaze. As the dreaded woman began walking her way, she felt her shoulders straighten with a newfound determination. She nodded as her eyes locked with the amplifier.
“I’ll take care of it.” She had to, or they really were all going to be cooked.
She hadn’t expected the dreaded woman to embrace her. Her expression went from determined to downright awkward for just a moment as she allowed herself to be engulfed in a stranger’s arms. Her body only relaxed the moment she figured that the woman needed total contact to use her abstraction. She took a breath, sent a prayer to the Hound that she would succeed, and braced for the power boost.
The power flowed endlessly and lit up every nerve in Liz’s body in a dull flame. She gasped softly as her entire being filled with raw, magical energy. It was strangely addictive, in a way that Liz knew would overwhelm her quickly if she didn’t dispose of it before it consumed her. She watched in awe as their skeletons glowed within them like an x-ray image, her eyes widening just so.
For a moment, she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Would she be able to handle the power? Would her few lessons in sealing apparitions be enough to prove herself to this coven?
She thought of the times that Lyss showed her the spells she’d learned from their grandmother. How Lyss had explained them to her, and even gave her a few lessons of her own. Lyss had believed in her, and that’s all that mattered now.
Her confidence skyrocketed just as she felt the energy in her body reach a heightened state. As the woman pulled back from her, Liz lifted her arms in front of her as if she could see the magic running through her veins.
It was power she’d never felt before. A power that could easily burn her as much as it could make her into the woman she was working towards being. She wondered if Lyss had ever felt power like this before.
Her head lifted to look the dreaded woman in the eyes, then she looked at the woman who had scrutinized her.
“Leave it to me.” She began before turning to face the apparition. Her steps began to carry her towards it, each movement teetering between control and chaos with the energy flowing within her. She reached a good point in front of the apparition and aimed her palms towards it. The energy within her began to transfer to her channeler, flowing rapidly, nearly at a dangerous rate.
“I’m Liz Burns, by the way.” She tossed over her shoulder.
Her icy blue eyes bore into the apparition with an intensity they’d never displayed before. A translucent veil of black energy began to emanate from her, spreading out, around, and above the titanic apparition until it was completely surrounded. She held her breath as she focused on her spell, held onto the feeling that Lyss had guided her towards many years ago, and felt her muscles tense as she held onto the control that was keeping the energy within her from burning her out.
She expelled that energy, encasing the magma monster in a trap that it couldn’t escape from, and focused the raw magic on keeping it there as one hand lowered to reach into her pocket and pull out a large hairpin that ended in a black rose from within it. She held it out in her palm facing the sky, and transferred most of the flow of magic into that hand. Her free hand shook slightly with the power granted to her as it threatened to overwhelm her, but she gained control by curling it into a fist and dragging it towards the hairpin in her palm.
As her fist moved, the veil around the apparition began to shrink around it and drag it towards her. It forced the apparition to shrink, its lava and rock exterior crunching and sloshing within it as it fought against her spell. Her amplified state was no match for it, and it lost the battle as it was sucked into the hairpin within a second’s time. The hairpin trembled as Liz squeezed it between her hands, finalizing her sealing spell, putting every ounce of the raw energy into it to ensure that it was successful. The hairpin glowed with a black aura within her hand before returning to its original state.
The hand that held the hairpin trembled as the adrenaline finally hit her. She ran her other hand through her hair, and pulled it forwards as she inspected the new streak of white that hadn’t been there before. This one was thicker than the rest, and she figured it was thanks to the power boost that more of her black strands had lost their color.
“Well, that was intense.” She breathed, honestly just thankful that she hadn’t lost control, and tapped her cheek just to make sure it had been real before turning back to the group behind her. Her gaze found the dreaded woman. A brief smile crossed her pale features as she gestured towards her with the pin in hand. “Thanks for the boost. Really came in handy.”
Not sure how I handled it, but thank the Hound I did.
Location: Elysium Island Interations: Lila @NoriWasHere, Broseidon @Atrophy, and the Greenwood and 317 Nearby
It felt like the attacks were neverending as Liz waited for her opportunity to make a difference in this fight. The sheer power of Schmidt’s cult-ish friends, to her dismay, made a small ball of damning fear begin to form within her chest. Sycamore was strong as a group, but were they strong enough to overcome being outnumbered? Because if they couldn’t get a handle on the situation, Liz was sure that she’d meet her end just by being associated with them.
She had to get a fucking grip. She wasn’t sure who Lyss had become after joining this coven, but she sure as hell knew that her cousin wouldn’t be feeling this way.
So, when she heard a familiar voice shouting something about riding lightning, and Lila finally got a chance to move off of her, Liz was determined to live up to Lyss’s legacy.
Crimson skin stretched taut where she put energy into the muscles beneath it. Her dry blisters cracked open with each movement as Liz pushed herself into a kneeling position, but she bore the pain with only a grimace to show it. If the healer couldn’t reach her, or was otherwise occupied, she’d have to overcome the pain for now. Relief would find her eventually… right?
Her head lifted, two-toned tresses falling back from her face. The annoying knot of fear in her chest melted rapidly, soon replaced by a swell of determination that made her eyes narrow.
Except the slivers of her pale blue eyes then widened the moment she laid eyes on a large man, bald and bare everywhere as he ran towards them. She didn’t even register the gold cup he sipped from because her eyes were occupied by the state of his injuries, and his l-
What the Hound happened to him?
She could only wince for him as he threw himself at the ground, and her eyebrows knitted together as he stood once more and looked them over. Her eyes took in the gold cup, and suddenly it made sense why he seemed hurt but wasn’t in pain.
Is this supposed to be the-?
“Never fear, the juice man is here! Lila! Cuz! Baby bird!”
Yup.
She flinched the moment he threw water towards her, but her mouth still opened so that his holy water could cleanse her of this burnt flesh. It wasn’t the kind of offering she usually accepted on her knees, but she’d take it either way. The moment the water hit her face, splashing onto her tongue and lips, Liz felt relief pass through her like a cooling wave as his healing magic rejuvenated her crispy exterior.
She breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at her arms and the exposed skin of her thighs. The color of her skin had dulled from scarlet to a tan she would have never gotten naturally. It probably wouldn’t last longer than a day or two, with her genetics. Her hands flexed, before pressing into the earth to push herself up onto her feet.
“Thanks, Broseidon.” She said to the muddy man that still towered over her before she turned to offer Lila a hand. “And thanks for the cover. You kinda saved my ass, there.”
Even though the winged woman had taken her into the line of fire in the first place. Water under the bridge, or whatever.
Liz’s attention quickly turned to the chaos in front of them as she felt a feathered hand take her own. She was quick to note that the dragon was being shocked into nonexistence, and felt another wave of relief the moment it fell into a hole in the sky. One apparition down… one more to go, and it seemed that the coven’s attacks were keeping it on its back for now.
She looked towards the gathered group just in time to hear a bearded man call for Drake. Her feet began to take her towards them, running between the barriers that were cast around the field to avoid the bullets that the necromancer’s goons fired her way.
Who the hell summoned them, anyways? She thought bitterly as she reached the closest barrier to the group and knelt behind it. She looked through it at the molten titan. It was on its back now, thanks to whatever massive stone dropped on its head as she was dodging bullets. She couldn’t think too hard on how that had happened. Someone will explain later.
Her thoughts were occupied as a plan began to form in her head. She wasn’t exactly a professional at trapping or sealing apparitions, but she’d done it with lesser beings before in her training. It would take an amount of energy that Liz wasn’t sure she’d be able to summon. Yet the Lord of the Brocean’s water left her feeling refreshed and powerful.
She could do it. She’d have to, or it would probably end them all.
The shield she’d hidden behind faded, and she took it as her chance to run towards the group standing nearby that seemed to be making their own plans.
There was no time to explain who she was or how she'd gotten on the island. With the titanic apparition down for the count, she'd have to explain herself later.
“One of you boosted the adept that can summon the sun, right?” She asked suddenly, her eyes darting between the muscled woman and the others gathered once she stopped before them. “I can seal the apparition, but the size of it means I could use the help.”
Her chin tipped upwards as she tried to embody her cousin’s confidence, because it looked like the group was too busy wondering who the hell she was to answer quickly. “We have to act fast while it’s down, so do you have an amplifier or not?”
Location: Elysium Island Interations: Lila Blackwood, @NoriWasHere
The woman’s head tilted at unnatural angles, and when she came nose to nose with Liz, the necromancer felt her body painfully tense in preparation for whatever might come next. Her muscles went slack as the woman shifted back and smiled at her instead. She was not in the mood to defend herself with blisters on her skin.
Then suddenly, without any warning, she was scooped into feathery arms. Her teeth grit as she suppressed protesting the assistance. She knew she was small, and injured, but she wasn’t helpless! She could have had a golem carry her. Or a hellhound, if she needed to be fast.
“Broseiden, huh?” She managed to utter with a strained voice as her hands held onto the woman for dear life.
Thank the Hound they have a– Holy fuck!
Her thought had been interrupted as the winged woman shot into the air. The movement jolted her within the arms of her carrier and left her stomach back at the mansion. She would have been nauseous if a sudden realization didn’t distract her.
She’s taking me right into the line of fire!
She wanted to say it out loud, but she couldn’t get the air into her lungs as they zig-zagged between the horde of undead. Bullets whizzed by them, and Liz cringed as she heard the thunks of metal hitting flesh. It was astonishing that the woman didn’t feel the pain of them.
It wasn’t long before the woman dove, and they both landed in the dirt. Right in front of the volcanic apparition. Liz was too busy gasping for air to question it. A few of her dried blisters had cracked open somewhere between the mansion and the rough landing. She was grateful for the protection the woman had provided her, of course, but the way her skin burned because of all of the jostling made it hard for her to thank the feathery friend yet.
She looked around, peeking out through black feathered wings, to search for this Sully. He was handsome, huh? There were a lot of handsome faces around them. Lots of powerful Coven members, too, she noted. Liz’s attention snagged on a muscled up woman as soon as the sun seemed to multiply in brightness, and she flinched with a wince as a beam of energy blasted the apparition.
So that’s who cooked me.
It didn’t even hurt the apparition, either. This place was truly fucked if none of the Coven could land a decent blow. Even more fucked now that it was joined by an attack from above, bright cyan ghosts raining down upon them as a large, golden dragon apparition appeared from a portal in the sky.
She would have been a goner if not for the winged woman. Her hands curled into dry fists of frustration as she made herself as small as possible underneath pale arms and black feathers. The hits came, and she was shocked that none of them breached the shield that the wings provided them.
Liz looked up at her savior with wide eyes in their cocoon and murmured. “Your abstraction is incredible.” She could sense that the woman was adjoined, and it made Liz wonder how it had come to be.
“Let me up when the hits end, though. I can trap one of the apparitions long enough for one of your hard hitters to weaken it.”
Hopefully. She just had to decide which one to target first.
The ground suddenly shook underneath them, like a bomb had gone off.
“Whatever the hell that was might have made the job easier.”
His voice crawls up her spine, passing through the patch of feathers on her back, and digs itself into the soft spot at the base of her skull. Her muscles tense and lock into place, expression twisting into a wince, and she tilts her head in an attempt to free herself of the feeling. It’s no use. He calls her name again, and this time his voice digs into the joints between her shoulder blades. Pain blossoms there, like a festering wound, and her shoulders shift against it. No matter how she twists, the movement does nothing to ease the ache.
She’s helpless against this torture. Suspended in the dark as he does what he wishes. The futility of it weighs heavily on her chest with each poke and prod.
She stands alone in the center of a large room lit only by flickers of starlight in the night sky that shine through a gaping hole in a metal roof. He calls her name over and over. Lovingly, at first, beginning as simple as a gentle caress along her cheek, and then building more malicious with each touch. His voice snarls by the end, saliva dripping from his lips that splatters against her cheek as she feels his hands rake themselves through her plumage. Feathers pull loose between his knuckles and fall to the ground around her feet. She endures it with fists clenched tightly at her sides.
There’s a glimpse of a twisted smile in the darkness, but when she blinks it’s gone.
Another voice chimes in just when she thinks the torture is over. This one is low and grumbling. It reverberates throughout her bones with the two syllables it speaks.
“Mother.”
A desperation fills her now. She wants to run. To hide from the monster that calls her kin. Her body strains itself, and yet her feet are planted firmly in place. She can’t move. Her very being is frozen by fear that grips her heart and squeezes it until it shrivels within her chest.
Screams follow the name given to her. The agonized cry of her lover in pain. She won’t reach him. The wails of a woman, of a friend, in distress. There’s nothing she can do to ease the suffering. Horrified shouts come from the crowd within the dark.
Voices she recognizes, and voices she doesn’t.
The sound of bone snapping and sinew tearing fills the space above her, and suddenly crimson ichor falls from the sky to drench her where she stands. She nearly drowns in it. As the downpour subsides she’s left gasping. The air that fills her throat is thick and muggy in her lungs, and it leaves a metallic taste on her tongue.
She knows who the blood belongs to.
The monster speaks again, and this time the voice is closer to her.
“Mother.”
Her eyes go wide and wildly search the darkness in front of her. Her heart beats a ferocious rhythm, threatening to burst from her chest, until she sees it. Glowing, red orbs glare at her from the dark.
Her heart stops.
The outline of a horned brow is illuminated as it steps into the light. Its grey skin is stretched taut over its enormous body. Batlike wings rise behind it as if to mock her blood. Her blood. Frigid air puffs from its flared nostrils as it stalks closer and closer.
Its skeletal fingers emerge from the dark and reach for her, and something within her fractures. Her arms go limp at her sides, because she knows what happens once it touches her. She knows the pain that it causes. How it leaves her a shell of who she was before.
A single tear draws a line through the blood on her cheek.
There’s nothing she can do as those fingers cradle her skull and tilt her head up to look into–
Location:Home - Debolt, Alberta, Canada
Human: #5.049 Growing Vanes
Interaction(s):N/A
Previously:Place to Nest
A shuddering gasp escapes from Haven’s throat as she awakens with a jolt. She shoves herself upright, feet kicking the blankets off of her legs to free herself of any pressure against her skin, and she whines as her hands reach for her head. Her eyes are wide, but they are blind with terror. She’s still stuck in that room. Phantom fingers still clutch her skull where she presses her palms against the sides of her jaw. She feels the fear, the hopelessness, and the desperation all at once.
Sweat coats the t-shirt she wears at the center of her back and chest, and her hands are clammy against her face. Her baby hairs are stuck to her temples with sweat. Every part of her burns. Her back aches as if the injury had just happened. She needs air. She needs to breathe.
She flings herself out of bed and heads for the closest exit in their cabin. Her bare feet stumble past the boots she left by the bed, forgetting she had even placed them there in case of times like this. She releases the hold on her head only to palm the door, one hand sliding down until it reaches the lock. Fingers fumble for a moment until it turns, and she yanks the door open carelessly. Too consumed by the torment within to notice if her partner had woken up to her outburst, she pushes against the screen door until it allows her enough space to step past it.
The air outside is crisp and blissfully cold against her skin as she steps out onto the portico. The screen door knocks against the frame, but she’s already stepping out into the openness of the forest by the time it comes to a stop.
The ground beneath her bare feet is damp and cold. The detritus is familiar to her toes. The forest around her is quiet except for the rustling of leaves in the branches above. She walks away from the cabin, past the shed, and into the darkness of the night. Her feet slow to a stop about ten yards from the perimeter of their new home, and she falls to her hands and knees.
Her breath finally comes in ragged waves as she feels the tightness in her chest loosen. She stares into the fallen leaves beneath her until tears blur the vibrant colors together. She sobs once, for the pain in her back and the terror of her nightmare, and then again for the loss of her wings and for the suffering those closest to her endured that night.
She’s lost to her grief among the trees, until the aching intensifies. Her breath hitches in her chest. Teeth grit together, brows furrowed in a grimace, and her hands grab the leaves beneath them and squeeze the foliage between closed fists. Her body tenses and trembles as she tries to get some semblance of control of it, and she gasps as it overwhelms her.
It feels like the skin on her back is stretching past its limit. The muscles underneath flex, tearing at the center and spreading until her entire back is aflame. She feels it creeping into her shoulders, neck, arms, ass, and legs. All the way to her toes and fingertips. The pain is familiar, and yet it’s entirely new. A shrill whine fills the silence of the forest as she feels her nubs pop. It takes all of her willpower not to faint from the sudden nausea it brings.
She knows this sensation. She’s felt it before. It’s as if months of growth have been crammed into minutes.
The burning. The aching. The stretching of bone and sinew. It wasn’t a symptom of her trauma, nor was it the healing pains.
It had been growing pains, all along, and somehow it all built up to this moment.
All of it reaches a crescendo, and when she feels the edges of her vision going black and truly thinks she’ll lose consciousness, the flame flickers out. She breathes a heavy sigh of relief as the temperature of her skin drops with it. Her head hangs between her arms while the sensation fades into a dull throb in her muscles. The nausea subsides, and she takes a few deep breaths as she’s overcome with exhaustion instead.
Disappointment slowly sets in as she realizes her back is not as heavy as it should be.
She pushes her upper body away from the ground until she sits against her heels. Her hands grip the bottom of her oversized t-shirt, slowly tugging the damp material off of her full hips and up her short torso. Her shoulders throb as she pulls it up and over her head. Her upper body is fully exposed to the night air as she sets her shirt down in her lap.
Her hands rub at her sides, working their way up to her pectorals, and then to her shoulders. She closes her eyes as she works on her neck first, and slowly, slowly pushes her hands down her spine until they brush against the softness of her feathers. Her fingers flex, reaching for the base of her joints.
She explores further, and what she feels between her fingers makes her laugh.
It’s self-deprecating in its nature. It brings on more tears that trail into her sweaty hair as she looks up at the starlight peeking through the treeline above her. The sound is similar to a laugh she heard recently. A trill utterance from a woman with three names. It’s madness, it’s sardonic, it’s sorrow and joy combined, it’s borderline hysteria… but Haven couldn’t care less how it sounded to the trees.
He took her wings. The monster ripped them from her body. She survived, and though she still feared that Deadalus would find her no matter how far she hid within the mountains, she was still breathing…
And her wings were growing back.
What once had been nubs of flesh and downy feathers, remnants of her beautiful tawny wings that stretched taller than a man on each end, now settled against her back as adolescent organs of flight. She unfurled them as she tested the muscles that had rapidly grown. Everything seemed to be in working order. The tips barely reach her elbows, but size didn’t matter to Haven now. She was sure that they were beautiful, and she was equally sure that they would continue to grow.
Relief etches itself onto her features, and she closes her eyes and basks in the moonlight. The forest seems to return to its normal hush now. The gentle breeze caresses her skin and feathers as she feels a sense of calm pass over her. She’s tempted to remain there for a while, in the peacefulness between the trees, but her mind drifts back to the cabin. She remembers how she left the backdoor open. How she left without a word, and without her boots. She thinks of her partner, and is suddenly overcome with a need to go to him.
She takes a breath, relishing the cold air in her lungs, then slowly rises as she clutches her shirt to her chest. She turns, her bare feet traveling over the leaves. They step back onto the path that connects the shed to the cabin, and to her home. The fire needs tending, and Rory definitely needs to know she’s okay, but at least she has something good to share with him.
13 years and going strong.
I'm waiting for the moment someone in my city mentions roleplayerguild as their hobby.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">13 years and going strong.<br><br>I'm waiting for the moment someone in my city mentions roleplayerguild as their hobby.</div>