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Caelius'levyath Fáelán Ethiriel

"Nothing in dreams can hurt you."

0 · 859 views · located in Roinnte, Ireland

a character in “The Fair Folk”, as played by Layla



teardrop; chouchou XXXXX water me; | Artist XXXXX elephants; rachel yamagata


XXXCaelius'levyath Fáelán Æthiriel; redemption

XXXÉmeric Bellerose; leader, guide

XXXCaelius, Cael, Levy

XXX315; January 1st, 1700


XXXSyreli; hidden in the deepest depths of the world's oceans in what mortals know as the Mariana Trench, Syrel is the third largest Fae settlement in the underwater realm and the largest of the Western Pacifc holdings. Neither light nor human eyes have ever penetrated the Seelie territory, as many of its inhabitants are highly sensitive to sunlight.

XXXThe majority of Merpeople in Syrel, that is, those possessing the bodies of fish and man, are descended from Kaia'Raen Emrys, who was the first Asrai. Nearly all Syreli are of mixed-blood, as unlike some underwater communities, Syrel is home to all types of Water Fae, though Merfolk and Shapeshifters represent the majority. Most have fair skin, dark hair and blue or grey eyes.

XXXMates for life

XXXDialogue: #659EC7
XXXThoughts: #C79F87

“When a person tells you that you hurt them,
you don’t get to decide that you didn’t."





XXXDragons have existed on earth, air and sea for as long as the oldest of Fae may recall. Some even say they are not Fae at all, but some ancient species that coalesced with the first grains of sand, the first drops of water. Knuckers were at first water dragons, namely three warriors named Lancing, Shoreham and Worthing, mated and united as The Petrichor. The pure-bred dragons were shapeshifters who had neither sex nor gender, but instead chose the bodies they wished to possess when they took human form.

XXXBefore them, winged creatures could not swim, just as water creatures could not fly, for the weight of water drained them of their buoyancy. A battle in the skies brought Seraphim crashing into the oceans, winged beings of fire and light whose demise inspired the first stories of fallen angels. They sank as surely as anchors, their wings spanning nearly 12-feet on either side signatures of death when weighed with water. Many more might have drowned had it not been for the few Water Fae who took it upon themselves to rescue them, though most were slight and some intangible, and alas, they could not carry the weight of the Seraphim.

XXXOnly the dragons could withstand the weight of innumerable Seraphim, for they could grow to nearly 500-feet in length. The Petrichor took it upon themselves to save the Seraphim, by coiling their bodies around one another and forming a landing for the plummeting Fae. There they stayed as the flames scorched their bodies, but the worst of the impact was felt by the biggest of them, Worthing. When the Seraphim were saved and they unravelled their bodies, Worthing sank into the bottom of the ocean, and he never rose again.

XXXIn their gratitude, the Seraphim named the remaining Petrichor and all their children after them friends of the Seraph, and granted them the gift of flight. They became the first of the underwater Fae who could fly, their wings forged not of feathers but of the same essence that formed their bodies. Though even that could not soothe their grief, and Lancing and Shoreham descended into hibernation, protecting the body of their fallen mate with their own for a thousand years.

XXXAlthough a hybrid between Dragon and Nixie, Caelius possesses scarcely any of his mother's or his sisters' gifts, though he has the ability to grant another the ability to breathe underwater with a kiss and to transform into a half-man, half-fish. He has superior night vision and can sense the state of the ocean and of its inhabitants, though particularly of those close to him. He has a near impeccable knowledge of his twin sister's physical and psychological state, and seems to always know where she is, or at least that she is not in his vicinity.

XXXDragons have a significantly longer lifespan than Nixie, able to live tens of thousands of years, though it is uncertain still if he and Laira inherited the lifespan of Nixie or Knuckers. He is able to transform into a winged water dragon, though being very young in dragon years, he is only about 100-feet in length. He is even stronger than Merfolk who live in areas like Syrel where the water pressure is extreme. His consciousness morphs in his dragon form, and he may lose his sense of self the longer he retains the form. Shapeshifters have been known to lose their memories and identities, even their ability to return to their Mer or human forms, when they wear the skins of beasts too often or for too long. Because of this, he uses his dragon form only as a last resort, though his skin is nearly impenetrable in that form.

XXXCaelius is able to manipulate water, though not create it. He can alter its form, turning it into ice and back. Although unable to control human blood, he understands the state of it, and can sometimes sense a disease that is prevalent in the bloodstream. The only aspect of partial-transformation he can accomplish is his ability to sprout wings. Whatever form he is in, the presence of iron weakens him, and an injury caused by iron is more fatal and takes longer to heal. The removal of his wings or a severe injury caused by iron between his shoulder blades where they emerge results in instantaneous death.

"I would give anything, anything, to be the man to whom this has not happened.
I cannot accommodate myself to it. In a lifetime of trying, I cannot accommodate myself to it.
And now I will have to be that person forever."

XXXheight; 6'2"weight; 146lbsXXX
XXXeye colour; aquamarinehair colour; ash brownXXX

XXXSkies, seas, ice and snow are apparent in his pale gaze, a crystalline blue so light they appear translucent. A sheen of green renders them the faintest aquamarine, encircled in midnight blue. His has the Mer's gaze, and their ethereal beauty. Long lashes skim the edges of his brow bone, razor lines mirrored in high cheekbones. A cupid's bow marks a perfect pout, set above a smooth jaw with the faintest dimple in his chin.

XXXAndrogyny marks the features of most Mermen, and Caelius epitomises the species' soft femininity. Dark hair falls in shiny waves to his shoulders, long strands dangling over his eyes. Wiry muscles are evident between the ridges of bone, straight clavicles and arched ribs, his slim build only exaggerated by his great height. Unlike most Mer, he is not flawless. Scars litter his body, the worst beginning behind his left ear, cleaving a jagged line across his chest and abdomen, as if someone had tried to tear him in half.

XXXHis Mer form is characterised by deep blue scales that begin below his navel. Unlike Laira who inherited the traits of Nixie, he possesses a tail carved of dragon scale, a near impenetrable substance vulnerable only to fire and iron, each is razor-sharp, thicker and wider than the thin, smooth scales found on his twin.

XXXIn his present dragon form, he stretches 100-feet in length. His hard azure scales expand and stretch across his whole body. His irises darken and devour the whites of his eyes, two dark orbs reminiscent of the flaring nostrils on the tip of his wide snout. Four claws stretch from each gnarled paw, obsidian lengths comparable in size to a human child. He is considered slight for most dragons, being relatively young, but he is easily the size of the largest whale in the world.

XXXA set of raven blue wings sprout from his back, both in dragon form and when he transforms partially. Its edges are lined with the same hard scales, but the sheet of his wings are a texture similar to a bat's, but significantly more durable. His wings are stronger but heavier than most, making him slower in flight but tougher in fights. Each wing measures 6-feet, and emerge from just between his shoulder blades.

"I like it when it rains hard.
It sounds like white noise everywhere, which is like silence but not empty."

XXXdiplomacy; be it mediating conflicts, entertaining guests and coercing the reluctant, Caelius has always had a gift for making others feel as if he is on their side, which he is. He has a remarkable ability to see every side of a story and consider alternatives that would benefit all, or at least the majority. His voice flows like calm water, each syllable more soothing than the last, managing to calm without a need for magic.

XXXsuperior strength; despite being a pacifist at large, he possesses the physical strength inherent to Dragons few other species can rival. Although not the speediest airborne creature, he can carry nearly anyone without his heart so much as racing a fraction faster. He can mediate his strength extremely well for the most part, having had to his whole life.

XXXempathetic; he has no need for some supernatural connection to understand another's feelings. He can read subtle shifts in eye contact and changes in expressions as if they were indelible excerpts from a diary. It is perhaps both a strength and a weakness, for he is sensitive to the moods of those around him and often experience what they do as if it were his own sensation. It is difficult to lie to Caelius, for he seems to look at everyone as if seeing into their souls.

XXXPTSD; perhaps it is a quality inherent to all Fae, all Mer, or just him, but Caelius struggles to forget. He relives the 11 years - as short as they might've been relative to his fragment of eternity - as if he were still the same helpless prisoner. The memories attack when he least expects them to, and he feels himself slipping into the tangle of his Draconic form, where he cannot tell friend from foe, and his body does not do as it is told. He is awake most nights than not, unwilling to succumb to the Lich that waits for him in the dark, but even then he cannot escape. He feels the madness crawling beneath his skin, the agony embedded in the scars littered across his body. It would be a blessing to succumb to oblivion, but the abyss hides his demons.

XXXiron; dragons are one of the Fae vulnerable to iron. They heal faster than most when struck with any other weapon, but the compound of iron stifles their healing process, and is the only weapon besides fire that may be used to kill them. The mere presence of iron can be nauseating, though less so considering his youth, as he has not been exposed to it for as long.

XXXnaive; despite everything that has happened, Caelius is still remarkably trusting. He's gullible and has minimal knowledge of things relating to carnal desires. He believes anyone can be redeemed, and the thought drowns him in guilt, because he once stripped someone of the possibility.

XXXDalia Amaryllis; he'd known she was his mate from the moment he'd heard her laugh, a melody more alluring than any symphony ever performed. All the passion he had ever felt for anyone else seemed pale in comparison, as if he'd been watching black and white films all his life. She was a gold thread, and everything from that day onwards was stitched with her colour. Laira may untangle him from the jagged edges of his memories, but Dalia keeps them from entrapping him at all. There is little he would not do for his Dalia.

XXXnudity; strip away the clothes he wears on nearly every inch of his body, and the smile he grants at nearly every moment, and he is nothing but mass of scars. His scars have scars, and he feels more often than not like one big scar of love gone wrong. No one besides his sister and the one Shaman they found when she wrestled him out of Hell has ever seen beyond his collar, not even the nude Mer who see him underwater. The scars are his greatest shame, not only because the Seelie treasure beauty but because they are evidence of his foolishness.

XXXentrapment; he remembers the iron collar. It had been heavy, even for a creature such as himself, and it had burned through his scales, its narrow width scraping his neck raw. He remembers the low ceiling, the four walls, the room that was too small to contain a dragon. He avoids small rooms, blankets over his head, crowds that press him in, and anything that might suffocate him. Yet he feels suffocated anyway.

XXXhis draconic form; his brothers and father do not seem to find the violence and bloodthirst that grips them in their dragon forms, but he does. He remembers the sanity slipping from him as surely as his sense of self. He would never transform into his draconic form if at all possible.

"Why shouldn’t art be pretty? There are enough unpleasant things in the world."

XXXstill waters; soothing and patient, he exudes an aura of tranquility, a stillness epitomised by his element. He is the sound of flowing water, a light drizzle and the damp earth after. Comfort flows from his lips as easily as water from his fingertips. He is eloquent in his vocabulary and in his actions, imparting a wisdom more akin to one thrice his age. Nothing seems to phase him, nothing except that which is in his head, at least.

XXXwhirlpool; beneath the stillness is the pull of a darkness he has never been able to escape. It is unpredictable, and drags him beneath the surface as abruptly as it spits him out. He would do anything, anything to not be that man. The one whose fear blinds him to anything beyond the need to escape. He is extremely dangerous in this state, his strength unchecked, his powers unmediated. Many have been injured in their plight to appease him, and only Laira has been able to pull him from it, and not without consequence. The panic seizes him by the throat and it does not let him go. Rage devours him, and fear keeps him under.

XXXtide; yet apart from the instances when he is not himself, he is extremely amicable. There is no one he is unwilling to help, no instance when he will not offer himself as a shoulder. He is the friend who drives hours to come bearing ice-cream and an open ear; the one who will tuck you into bed and care for you late into the night. He possesses a maternal instinct and a desire to help in any way he can.

XXXclarity; there is an almost childlike innocence to his perception of the world. He is of the belief that the good will always outweigh the bad, that the bad are only misguided and that forgiveness should always be offered. He is not one to hold a grudge and few have ever seen him angry. If anything, his disappointment and anger seems to flow inward, as if it were his fault for being an easy target.

"Insomniacs know better than anyone how it would be to haunt a house."


XXXSand sculpting ✦ Musical instruments; namely piano and violin ✦ Tea ✦ Morning dew ✦ Winter; mostly for the thick clothing ✦ Spring; mostly for Dalia ✦ Brushing hair ✦ Cooking ✦ Turtles ✦ Animals; especially furry ones ✦ Picnics ✦ Feeling of being washed away by a tide ✦ Cleaning ✦ Early starts ✦ Comfort; his bed, Laira's bed, Lien's bed, Dalia's bed, a bed ✦ His sisters ✦ Rain ✦ Sculpting with ice

XXXSlavery; including that of humans by Fae ✖︎ Leashed animals ✖︎ Aquariums ✖︎ Violent readers; bending book covers, folding pages ✖︎ Large crowds ✖︎ Small rooms ✖︎ Coffee ✖︎ Loud snoring ✖︎ Clock chimes ✖︎ Pigeons; and other birds that stare too hard ✖︎ Pollution ✖︎ Violence ✖︎ Sleeping ✖︎ Absent grass-plucking ✖︎ Mirrors

"Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood.
You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated."


XXX1699; they had almost forgotten he'd been born too, so mesmerised they were by Laira's eyes, blue-green-grey-brown. Discoloured azures were almost a sure sign of a Nixie, as it determined that they had inherited enough of their paternal makeup. He hadn't minded being in her shadow, and never in his life has he ever been envious of his sister. He loved her more than their parents, their siblings, all of them combined. He had experienced for a brief time what it was to be illuminated, to be coddled and revered, when he first transformed at the age of twelve. Dárgh'kaelos had been ecstatic, as only two other sons of his - at least the ones he had with Faira'alaya - could accomplish a full shift into their Draconic forms. They'd rushed him into training with The Tempest, fussed over him as if he were cotton that might shrivel if so much as a drop of water collapsed on him. He'd hated it, the suffocation.

XXXTheir admiration would not last, as they would come to realise no amount of coercion or punishment would instil him with the aggression necessary for an effective warrior. He was more interested in reading ancient scripture than he was in learning the various pressure points for inflicting maximum suffering. His brothers have disapproved of him since the beginning, considering his gifts wasted on a pacifist like him. He soon learned to swap with his more confrontational twin, seeing as they could scarcely tell them apart anyway.

XXX1718; he had known before she'd planned to leave that she would eventually leave. He felt Laira's discontent as solidly as he did the ridges of a seashell. He'd let her sneak away, alerting no one, not even Laira herself, of his knowledge. He missed but did not mourn for his sister, because he knew with a certainty that she had never been built for the isolation Nixies were subject to. His only great worry was that he would not be able to perform at the standards she'd set disguised as he.

XXX1729; at the time, he'd believed it to be fate that brought him to Caelius. The Tempest would at times train on dry land and it was one such occasion that led him to his first love. Always, the Syreli elders warned them to stay away from Land Dwellers. There were other Fae, barbaric Fae, Fae that looked just like them but harboured within their lovely shells, monsters, Fae who were as demonic in appearance as they were internally. Stay under the sea, they told him, where it's safe. His flippant disregard of their warning nearly cost him is life, it certainly did his sanity. He thought he was falling in love, and he'd snuck away and chance he could, a young dragon who had not yet learned what rare commodities his kind were.

XXX1730; the days bled into months that bled into years, a pool of hues that turned into mud slipping across his vision. His consciousness had been reduced to the ability to experience agony, which came in abundance and came with no pause. He had no control over his body, over the form he would take. He felt only the weight of the iron collar at his his neck, the violent pull as the man yanked on his chain, the burning that devoured every inch of him when he did not kneel, sometimes even when he did. In the haze of blood and metal, he saw a stream of dark hair, a gentle hand, fleeting glimpses of a girl as much a prisoner as he.

XXX1742; when Laira came, he nearly took her head off. He hadn't recognised her, not before the Phylactery shattered between his claws, and not after the life bled from his captor like air from a popped balloon. He'd killed the Lich unintentionally. The rage had devoured him when he saw the man crumple the two figures he knew, in some distant echo of sanity rousing in the back of his mind, that those were two people he cared for. His sister had gripped him with hands bloody from where she'd touched the wound on her head from when he'd thrown her through a wall, and slowly, slowly, she reminded him he was not a beast, and slowly, slowly, he returned to a form he'd forgotten he possessed.

XXXHe let her take the blame. It was and would always be his greatest shame. She'd used her wounds to plead manslaughter, though the only wounds she'd sustained had been inflicted by he himself. He allowed his sister who wished for nothing more than freedom to be chained to the place she had fought to escape. He'd enabled her to be ostracised for a murder he was responsible for, because he could not bare for the truth to be exposed.

XXXThey deceived the community into believing that those years he'd been absent had been an act of delinquency, much like Laira herself. He could not bear for it to be exposed that he'd been imprisoned by no fault but his own. They had warned him not to leave, to be weary, but he had thought love worth the risk, if it had been love at all. The worst was that he felt her guilt, and she his. He understand that she was punishing herself in a way, for having left at all, and he told her that it had never been her fault, that if it had, 200 years of imprisonment had more than made up for 20 years of absence, but she would never listen. She'd done enough, he wished to tell her, he'd hurt her enough. Once, when she'd found him thrashing in his sleep, she'd tried to wake him. He'd crushed every bone in her arm.

XXXEnough, he would say to her, and she would tell him, not yet, meaning never. I'm not leaving you again, meaning better my arm than the arm of someone who does not heal as easily. She thought it was her fault and he thought it was his, and that was all they would be from then on: two people who spent their whole lives mending a relationship that was never broken.

"Remember you are half water.
If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does."

So begins...

Caelius'levyath Fáelán Ethiriel's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dalia Amaryllis Character Portrait: Caelius'levyath Fáelán Ethiriel Character Portrait: Kazimír Šťastný Character Portrait: Kane'takragh Demarcÿs Ethiriel
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#, as written by Layla


song; take a fall for me XXX hex; #659EC7 XXX outfit; sleek


    XXXXXHe watched the sun fall into the ocean and be torn apart by waves.
    XXXXXCaelius' hand collapsed into itself, the globe of water hovering above him shattering into a thousand droplets at his command. None grazed his skin. Again, he unravelled his fist and the liquid filled the gaps between his fingers, dancing like koi fish in a fathomless pond. He held them suspended before him, and for a moment the water danced as if it had consciousness.
    XXXXXTears coiled in a weave of hair, framing a heart-shaped face. Transparent eyes stared at him, though he could never capture their likeness. She gave him a watery smile, lips colourless where he knew they were an enduring pink. He held his breath, bleeding his concentration into sustaining her lovely face, trailing the water down her neck to form the demure arch of her shoulders, the gentle protrusion of her clavicles-
    XXXXXShe disintegrated before his eyes as the air escaped his lips in a white haze, exuding the heat that seemed to permeate his body regardless of his environment. Dalia; the name flowed soundless from his lips, evanescent as his ice sculptures. He gave her a rose once, the perfect one of innumerable attempts. It had dissolved in her hand.
    XXXXXCaelius followed the trickle of sunlight on the horizon, eyes open against the flames. They illuminated the cracks in his irises, silver slivers radiating from black pupils, the surface of a pale blue sea. "Eyes like broken glass," his mother had told him. "Your grandmother's eyes."
    XXXXXYour grandmother who ran for her mortal love at noon, and came back a puddle of tears, was what she had not said. Quickly devoured by the tide, never to be seen again. Sometimes he thought the Nixie were not cursed with disintegration by light, but with a terrible taste in lovers.
    XXXXX"Why are you sulking?" came a low rumble. Kane appeared beside him, joining him in his intense battle of the unblinking with the fountain situated in the centre of their drawing room. The glass dome stretched above them, filtering the light that came in to drench the plants emerging throughout the hall.
    XXXXX"Because Laira is."
    XXXXX"Well then, you may as well give up now," Kane teased. "I'd imagine it difficult enough to have Laira by choice, but to be her Half by default," he shivered. "May the tides have mercy on you."
    XXXXX"It isn't so bad," Caelius said, a small smile teasing his lips. "Most of the time I'm just hungry."
    XXXXX"Her stomach is an insatiable void that preys on the weak," Kane agreed. "Once I claimed in jest that she would eat a small child if she was hungry enough, and you know what she told me?"
    XXXXX"'Only the red-haired ones because they preserve my youth'?" he ventured.
    XXXXX"Close. She said blonde."
    XXXXXCaelius laughed and Kane grinned, but slowly their mirth became a ripple in the water. They stared into it, their reflections shivering on its surface. The oldest and the youngest of their family bared little resemblance, save for their dark hair and sterling blue eyes, though Kane's was marred by a jolt of brown in his left.
    XXXXX"You feel it, too, don't you," Kane murmured. It was more a statement than a question, but Caelius nodded nonetheless. "The water is uneasy. The alliance is precarious. The Unseelie are outraged with recent events, and we are no better." He turned to his brother. "It is impossible to prepare for a war we wish to prevent, and yet we do." Silence excised his speech, until Caelius spoke in turn.
    XXXXX"Do you believe we will come to that?" Caelius asked, though he already knew Kane's response, a thought affirmed by his reply.
    XXXXX"I believe we must prepare for anything."
    XXXXXCaelius turned away from his brother and stared into the waning light. He spread Kane's previous words before him and spun them into his own response. "Then I suppose we cannot prevent a war," he said.
    XXXXXKane paused before he next spoke, and when he did, he wore a quiet smile, almost as if Caelius had impressed him by revealing his contradiction. "Perhaps not. The Seelie is blessedly run by some less cynical than I." He buttoned the cuff of his crisp oxford shirt, the tailored material stretched over his muscled forearm. "Aegle is a wise and fair leader. She will do what is best."
    XXXXX"What about what's right?" Caelius murmured. Kane paused, before shrugging his suit jacket over his broad shoulders.
    XXXXX"Careful, little brother. You're starting to sound like me," he joked.
    XXXXX"Lord forbid," Caelius said in mock-horror. "Anything but that." Kane thumped him on the arm. A mortal might have flown across the room, but Caelius merely stepped.
    XXXXX"I need to attend the celebration at the opera house," Kane said, sobering. "There is likely to be discord with tonight's festivities." He grasped Caelius' shoulder. "Be careful tonight, brother."
    XXXXX"Always." He rested his fingertips on Kane's temple and received the same in return. "And likewise."

    ・ • ● • ・

    XXXXXIt was like being submerged in the ocean. He felt their heartbeats, vehicles pumping blood through their systems, each a different cadence vibrating in the bodies around him. He felt Dalia as surely as if she were a tide washing over him, cool against his burning skin.
    XXXXXHe moved towards her like water around ocean debris, smooth and unyielding. Her laughter trickled towards him like a flash of his name in a sea of murmurs. He resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the poison that permeated the purity of her blood, infusing it like molasses. He had not known what it was when he first ventured on land after-
    XXXXX"Dalia." Her name unfurled from his tongue like a prayer, a low vibration beginning in his chest and ending in hers. "You look beautiful, as always." He stood behind her, his chest pressed against her back in the crowded space, lips hovering by her ear.
    XXXXXHe turned to the Avian Fae who occupied the space beside her, and gave her a smile. The girl turned to him, transfixed as his set of dark lashes grazed smooth cheekbones in a blink that seemed, for her, to last a small fragment of eternity. "Forgive me," he said. "Would it be alright if I sat beside my friend?"
    XXXXX"Oh!" the girl said. "Oh, no. No, of course not. Here." She jumped out of her seat and nudged her friend hastily, waving for her to move across so she could take her seat. Their gazes darted towards him, before returning to each other, giggles bubbling behind their hands.
    XXXXXCaelius rested his hand for a brief moment on Dalia's naked shoulder before reaching to tug at the chair that had been recently vacated. He pulled it out and slid into it, propping his head on a fist as he turned to gaze at the nymph. "You are about to become quite inebriated in a few minutes, love." He smiled. "Can I get you a drink? I suppose I'll be carrying you home either way."
    XXXXX"Caelius, Caelius," Llyr teased from across the table. "What would Dárgh'kaelos say? Using your looks like that."
    XXXXX"Pardon?" Caelius asked.
    XXXXX"Oh, don't act innocent. We all saw what you did."
    XXXXXCaelius furrowed his brows. "What did I do?"
    XXXXXLlyr sighed, smiling as he returned his attention to Kazimir. He slipped the bartender a few notes as he bought the Luck Fae a drink. "Still, Caelius has nothing on you," he whispered.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dalia Amaryllis Character Portrait: Laíra'alethya Celessí Ethiriel Character Portrait: Caelius'levyath Fáelán Ethiriel Character Portrait: Kazimír Šťastný Character Portrait: Caolán Dáithí Character Portrait: Kasumi Ao
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attire│ x
attire│ [url]x[/url]

The afternoon had melted into evening, and the sun hung low in the sky; a golden-faced babe cradled by the prismatic furrow of clouds that spilled over the horizon. Its waning light caught in the forest's entangling verdure, and shattered, scattering pieces of lustre across the woodland floor like shards of glass from a broken mirror. The mist was a constant, and even as the fragments of luminescence pierced it, fronds of muted fog licked softly at the wounds made.

Glades were spread sparsely throughout the small wood; little clearings in which the light would spill, phosphorous and pale. Wildflowers grew thick and varied; a sundry assemblage of bluebells and foxgloves and wild angelica. The floral profusion circled around the centre figure of the glade -a solitary alder tree- like a gaudy necklace, its many-hued state making up for the tree's own dull appearance, struck bare by winter.

A fair-skinned leg swayed leisurely to and fro as it dangled from one of the alder's outstretched branches. Its pair was folded, knee used as a crutch to support the owner's elbow. She herself sat upright; back against the alder's bole, and as her dangling limb swung in fainéant oscillation, her focus was completely set on the words in front of her.

She'd been sitting there for the past six hours, studying. Studying the words that lay in laddered lines on each smoothly glossed page. Around people, her expression rarely faltered in its deadpan consistency, but whilst she read, her face was raw and as readable as her beloved novels. Now, her brow furrowed as her gaze drew across a particularly harrowing delineation.

"Hey-yup, Blue, time to get going!"

Her leg froze mid-sway, and the prior quietude crumbled in an instant. She turned her head slightly to face the speaker, slowly and deliberate, as though the action pained her.

Or perhaps just the person.

He looked as he always did; stupid. Or such was Ao's opinion. His eyes framed by thick kohl, his peridot irises flickering with mischievous vexation, and his hair styled into that ridiculous mohawk-y look that had gone out of fashion at least two decades ago. The omnipresent smile was there, too; directed at her as though expecting her to return one back.

She'd have thought he'd have learnt by now. "'Get going'? Get going where?"

Caolan scoffed as he looked up at the wisp, rocking back and forth on his feet with a cheerful vigor. "Wanderlust. Duh."

"And why would I want to visit that hormonal cesspit?"

Caolan stared at her a brief moment, as though stunned by her stupidity. He snapped out of his blinking stance with a wild wave of his hands, which he threw up in seeming exasperation. "Um, hello? Any clue what day it is?" "... The twenty second of December. Get a calendar." "It's Yule, you muppet!"

His outcry was met with a blank stare, and his chagrin flared. The dark curls that crowned his brow fluttered as he blew them from his eyes, and he jumped upwards, fingers catching on the alder's lowest branch. Grunting slightly, he hoisted himself up, swinging one leg over as he turned to face Ao. "The Winter Solstice! Jól! The Longest Night! Come on, Blue, I thought you were supposed to be clever." "Why do you think I'm ignoring you?" "How do I love Yule? Let me count the ways. Drinking, partying, shagging..." "Why are you inviting me, again?" "... gambling, smoking, more shagging..."

Ao sighed censuredly, and she looked back to the publication in her hands, pointedly turning the page. Caolan halted in his listing, noting her lack of interest with a dash of distress. "To summarize, Yule is fucking fun. Something you aren't exactly privy to all that oft-"
He faltered as his gaze fell upon the literature Ao was reading, and he snatched it from her grasp. Reading the cover, his expression turned into one of humored incredulity.

"Are you reading fucking Cosmo?" "It provides a fascinating perspective of the human psyche." "Psyche my arse." He flicked aimlessly through the pages, before pausing on a certain article and reading out the title "Ooh, Twenty One Leonardo DiCaprio Movies..." He glanced up at her with a sultry expression, and finished with a hushed tone, "... Ranked by hotness."

Ao snatched the magazine out of his hands. "Let's just go to the damn club."

The so-called 'hormonal cesspit' that was Wanderlust smelt particularly strong this evening, an intoxicating concoction of incense and perspiration and spice. The building was flooded with fae, Unseelie and Seelie alike. Imbibing harlequin cocktails, exchanging conversation over the raucous din, pressing against each other on the dance floor, whispering sweet nothings in one another's ears.

Suffice to say, Ao was out of her element.

Caolan swung his arm over her shoulders, leading her through the crowd as he tossed out greetings here, and avoiding gazes there. The latter action was of no surprise to Ao, as Caolan had always had a knack for inspiring murderous thoughts. As they crossed the dance floor, Caolan gripped Ao's shoulders tightly, swerving her in the opposite direction as he sneaked glances behind him. "Shit. Uh... avoid the feathered bloke with the aviators, 'kay? I kind of owe him money."

Caolan's eyes caught on a familiar pair, and his previously nervous expression evolved into a wily grin. "Well, if it isn't my two favourite Seelie." Ao followed his gaze, and although her face did not crease in the slightest, a feeling of pleasantness blossomed. It truly was strange, that two of the people she was supposed to be enemies with were in fact some of her closest friends.

Well, perhaps the turn 'friends' was too strong. After all, she'd never exactly been adept in the art of friend-making, and 'friends' sounded so perpetual. So indefinite.

And as Ao knew more than any human could possibly, 'eternity' was a very long time.

Closing the distance between them, the odd pair walked up to the Seelie duo. It took only for the bartender to heed the identity of the oncoming customer for him to pour a whisky for the inky-eyed kobalo, and as he slid it across the bar, Caolan caught it deftly. Hopping lightly into a stool, he perched his elbow on the hard surface of the bar, and took a sip from his drink.

"Uh, shouldn't you two be slughtering some helpless human slave in bloodthirsty vengeance right about now?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dalia Amaryllis Character Portrait: Caelius'levyath Fáelán Ethiriel Character Portrait: Kazimír Šťastný Character Portrait: Caolán Dáithí Character Portrait: Kasumi Ao
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#, as written by Cloud




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hex: #cdbb7c




Dalia’s hand falls to her side as the crowd coalesces into a throbbing mass of bodies, blocking her view of the female mer-twin. A hopeful smile – surely her frantic signalling had garnered some attention – marks Dalia’s face as she returns to a more relaxed pose. Dark green eyes fall on the young Luck Fae sitting opposite her, that hopeful smile turning into a smirk and a bubbling laugh as she watches Kaz listening to a quiet joke whispered into his ear by the ethereal Llyr.

Kazimir can feel the warm hand of his companion on the small of his back and he grins at the blonde figure beside him, muttering a borderline dirty joke in reply that has Llyr chuckling under his breath. Kaz catches Dalia’s gaze, grinning at the nymph when he sees her smirk. His golden eyes pass over her shoulder, catcing sight of a slim, dark haired figure navigating his way through the crowd. This is not the nixie whom Dalia had been madly waving to a minute ago, but the water fae’s twin brother. Kaz makes eyes at Dalia, attempting to signal their impending visitor. The wood nymph’s eyes narrow and the blooms in her hair turn a mustard yellow in confusion, her mouth parting to ask Kaz what he means when a warm presence comes to rest behind her back.

Her name is pronounced like a musical note, slipping from between rose lips like a song. The nymph’s smile broadens as she recognises the deep voice, turning her face up to meet the startlingly blue eyes of the newest addition to their small party. His compliment only makes her happier, the petals in her hair developing into little bluebells and delighted, miniature sunflowers.

“Cael!” She says brightly, waiting for him to take his seat. As always she warms to his touch, her grin strengthening despite the assertion that her levels of intoxication are about to rise. There is truth in the statement, and in the possibility of Caelius having to take her home. This wouldn’t be the first occasion that has had the water fae supporting an intoxicated and silly nymph, yet Dalia is happy to note that she at least always remembers her night and manages to survive without too bad a hangover the next day. Dalia can’t say the same thing for Kazimir, who has been left crippled for a day after drinking in excess the night before several times.

Dalia giggles at Llyr’s interjection before scooting over in her seat so that she’s able to slide an arm around Caelius’ slender waist. Dalia has always been a person who craves contact, seeking it out whenever she’s with someone she knows well. Hell, she’ll give a complete stranger a hug in greeting if she thinks they need it. Caelius, however, is no stranger, nor is this the first time that she’s rested a rosy cheek on his shoulder. He’s just as comforting now as he’s always been; warm and stable, his smile sending flurries of happy flowers throughout her hair… or was that the alcohol?

“I’m glad you came tonight.” She tells him, head tilted back so that she can both rest it on his shoulder and attempt to meet his eyes. They’re a stunning vivid blue, her favourite colour. The arm wound around his hip gives him a squeeze, her eyes suddenly alighting with energy as an idea bubbles to the surface. “Let’s dance Cael!” She entreats, her head leaving the comfort of his shoulder as she slides off her chair.

The green fingers of Dalia’s hand lace their way through his, pulling lightly at his arm as she calls him to the dance floor again. A new song has come on, it’s a tune she’s never heard before but Dalia is determined that she will dance to it with Caelius. One could argue that the alcohol flowing through her system is increasing that determination, but then again where there is dancing one can always count on finding any nymphs present in the midst of it.

Across the table Kaz lets out a snort of amusement. “We’ll save your seats if that’s what you’re worried about.” Kaz teases Caelius, “Unless they kick you out for scaring everyone off with your terrible dancing.” The joke is meant kindly rather than harshly, and the response from the nymph is a laugh and an extra tug on Caelius’ hand,

“You won’t be that bad, not when you have me to help!” Dalia grins, almost bouncing on the spot, “I’ll show you how to move.”

Kaz opens his mouth to reply, the smirk on his face no doubt indicating that whatever his comment is will not be for innocent ears, yet before he can form the words his attention is stolen not by the fair haired Llyr, but a drawling Irish voice that has him turning in his seat to face the bar. He’s greeted by a fairly familiar sight; his favourite Unseelie, a glass of whiskey in his hand, dark kohl marking his eyes, and a cocky smirk decorating his face.

“Caolan you ass, you’re lucky it’s just me that heard you say that.” Kazimir replies, greeting the Unseelie fae with a smirk of his own. Certainly that kind of comment could cause more than a scuffle should the wrong pair of ears catch it. Kaz’s golden eyes pass the male fae and find the will-o’-the wisp standing beside him. “Nice to see you out Ao.” He tells her, that cheeky grin not quite leaving his face. “Shouldn’t you two be at some fancy Unseelie shindig at your headquarters? Or did you want to have some actual fun?” Kazimir only waits a second for an answer before nodding his head towards the seats that Dalia and Caelius were leaving vacant, “Pull up a chair if you like.” He offers, regardless of his earlier promise to save the chairs for Dalia and Cael.