eluviannaa

[eluviannaa]

Anon things never said to her face... "You do not know me. At least not by name, but perhaps you would find me familiar all the same. But I know of you; whispers speak often of those who study, who strive to learn instead of repress a shadowed nature. I wish I had your courage."

The words touched the Ren'dorei with a knowing nod, “Perhaps courage will grow with time.”

She lifted her palm, listening to something just out of reach. Then, a dark wisp curled from the flesh—a soft shadow that shimmered in defiance of the light.

“The voice begins small, a desire hidden from those who would seek to wield it against you. But even as a spark...it is never less than truth.”

A smile ghosted her lips.

“Hold on to whatever shape it takes.”

Thank you for the ask anon!

[eluviannaa]

Closing day of @tartfirefest! 🔥 @dawn-blossom

[eluviannaa]

As usual, the door of Curses & Curios stood open to the markets of Tiragarde Sound. Ozzie liked it that way. The day's brine and bustle of trade drifted in as the older Kul Tiran—more spindly than most—hunched over a small worktable near the entrance.

He was often alone, save for the company of an Ethereal who managed the shop’s more mysterious inventory in the cellar—its entryway marked with runes and barred by a length of rope. Though Ozzie hadn't seen him, the freshly scattered crates suggested Zevvix was working below.

The proprietress was away on fieldwork or some such. Still, should business require, a modest portal chamber tucked near the docks would ferry her back at a moment’s notice.

Engrossed in his tinkering, Ozzie had forgotten her mention of returning today. His usual eyepatch was shoved up over one brow, replaced with a mechanical spectacle that clicked softly as he adjusted the lens. He squinted through it, focused on a bit of scrap in his palm, hardly noticing the figure now waiting at the door. 

@safrona-shadowsun

+ @nixalegos for the introduction!

[eluviannaa]

"You are beautiful, surely, but I want to know your mind "

Well, you are in luck—the latter is offered far more often than the former.

Anyone can state the obvious. I, myself, prefer to prod at what is not. Fancy of the trade, I imagine.

But I will take either as a compliment, dear stranger.

Thank you anon!

[eluviannaa]

Inviting an Entity into one's home was never without consequence. Darkness, ritual, it was all very needful. But even so, she hadn't unexpected it to...redecorate.

There was a slow exhale. Mild amusement, mostly annoyance. A squeak of agreement came from beneath her cloak—her mindbender. Yellow eyes blinked at the hem, peering at the curious additions to the foyer.

Things dripped. Wonderful.

Vibrated.

Rearranged themselves with an obsessive fuss, unsatisfied with something oddly specific.

Not exactly noteworthy, but deeply overwrought. Frankly, it was all a bit dramatic. Much like the Entity itself.

“Well, Feo,” she said, chin lowering with a pointed glance, “there will be...words.”

@allasticus

A letter finds its way to your hands by means of a strange Raven, or was it a demon with a glamor hiding its true form? He’s sure to know it’s true form, but who would send him a letter line this?

“There are whispers going around about you, and those whispers have made it to my long ears. While I do not know who or what you are, it peaks my interest either way. As one who is tired to the void since birth I both fear and respect your power. I can feel it, but I do not understand it. It’s old. Too old for my mind to comprehend. I simply wish to say you are an interesting one. Perhaps one day our paths will cross. If and when that happens I’m sure there is a lot one could learn from one so well versed in certain magic as you. Till the day we meet, or you find me, I bid you farewell.”

The salt-heavy Kul Tiran air invaded his senses like a sickness—briny, cloying, and curdling in the back of his throat. He loathed it: the damp wind, the reek of fish and rot, the dockhands who staggered drunkenly through streets soaked in seafoam and sin.

How he longed to see the cobblestone paths and buildings replaced with spires wrought from ancient malice and forgotten purpose. Structures carved not by hands, but by whispers older than stone.

But for now, this was sanctuary. The Scholar’s home—offered, accepted. A reluctant accommodation, but sufficient. The void pulsed through its walls like veins through a dying mind, each thread a thought the Scholar once dared to think, now unravelling beneath the weight of him.

The entity stood outside the threshold, testing the skin of the world with his presence. Clad in the Vessel’s shell, his true form twisted beneath void-kissed armour... coiling, shifting, smoke made flesh. His gaze swept the street, pausing only when a winged thing cut across the sky.

A raven?

No. Something in a raven. Something hiding behind feathers and glamour. Demonic.

It landed with no ceremony, eyes glinting with something borrowed. It offered a letter. He took it. Read.

“There are whispers going around about you…”

Quaint.

Veiled praise. Respect wrapped in mortal awe. Admiration painted as curiosity. Fear softened into flattery. The writer didn’t know what he was—not truly—yet still they dared reach out, as though proximity offered understanding. Or safety.

Allasticus’ brow lowered not in anger, but in amusement. A lesser thing had felt his shadow. Traced it. Found him. How?

He cast a slow glance toward the hovel. Then, with no more thought, the letter turned to ash, consumed in a hiss of void and flame.

Inside, he shed the Vessel’s mask. Shadows surged like breath held too long. His true form unfurled—shifting, indistinct, a silhouette stitched from memory and madness. He moved with purpose, overturning relics and books, inspecting every item, arcane and mundane. Her sanctum.... his sanctum had been touched. Someone had whispered.

Her?

The thought curled through him, not as fury, but as intrigue.

A smirk pulled at his lips.

“Oh, sweet one... are you trying to rattle the cage being built around you?” he murmured, letting the darkness bleed from his limbs. Sigils reformed. Wards rewove themselves tighter. Hungrier.

And then, in a voice that scratched beneath the skin, he spoke:

“T̶̠͕̱̯̪̦̰̳̖͒͑̑̕͝ḧ̵̡̘͔͚́̎̄̅͑̑͐́̓ê̴̛̟̺͓̦̒̌̓̓̕̕n̷̢͕̖̬͛̉̇̋̇̿͜͝ͅ ̶̢̡̖͚̬̻̻̠̃̈́̿̊̐͐̉͑͛̚͜ͅľ̸̪̗̗̩̙͈̅̊̈́͜͜e̶̋̀̈ͅẗ̵͇́̕͝ ̷̗͎̻̃̈́͐͝͠ṵ̴̞̼̳͉͂́̒͆̾̄ͅs̵̨̜̼̩̊̄̔̕͠ ̶̛͇̳̜͓͇͆̉̾̄̎̈́̂̉̃͜f̵͖̫̬̥̜͂̓͒̏̇̾̊̒͂͜͝ͅa̸̧̛̜͐̉̋̽̋̾̓̾s̸̩͍̣͙̯͆̓ţ̸̞͕̲͂͋͆͋̔͌̔͋͝ę̸̢̼̬̱̰̙͕̲͒͌͝n̷͇̖͋̒̇͝ ̸̢̧̬͉̺̰̞̖͓̇͒̿̈͛͗̌̆̓̉͜t̶̛̬̮̃͋͑̄̈̓͘͝͠ḧ̵̹́͊̋͋̅͂ë̷̢̢̧̞̦̭̣͉̽͂͛̍̿̕͜͝ͅ ̴̨̰̝̩̦̜̝̫̬͗̈́l̸̨͙͕͙̰̫̝̏̈́́͒̑̍̕͝ò̷̡̬̠̦͂̔͐͆̂͒͛͐c̸̢̡̭̖̯̟̮̜̦͋̀͜k̴̡͔̟̳͙̻̯̩̫͙̓͐̚͝,̸̧͓̼͇̹͊̀̋̈́̕͜͝ ̸͚̈́͠s̵̥͒ḧ̷̙̯̆̎̌̏̒͊̎͝a̶͔͓͓̜͂͐͗̈́́̒͒̍l̷͎̓̉͊l̵̛̼̅̑̀̎̃̾̂̒̑ ̶̮̣̦̠͙̋w̴̪͔͈̞͍̜̪̮̩͋͊͋̊͠͠ẹ̵̡̜̺̈̐̂̆̂́̽̕͝?̵̯̝͎̺͔̗͊”

When it was done, he opened the door and gazed into the street beyond. Whether the messenger still lingered or had already vanished was of no concern. His voice spilled into the air like oil across water, slick and heavy, searching.

“Curious little thing… You fear me, yet you wrote. You do not understand, yet you invite. You admire what your mind cannot contain. How... exquisitely mortal.”

A breath. A pause.

“You say I am interesting. But interest... is the first step into the maw, is it not? When your mind begins to fracture beneath the weight of me, will you still call it curiosity?”

A response—not penned, not sealed, but carried in shadow.

The Raven would feel it. The sender would hear it. And if they listened too closely... they would never unhear it.

@eluviannaa mention (I renovated! yay!)

[eluviannaa]

Oh god...

Anonymously tell my muse something you'd never say to their face.

[eluviannaa]

Nodding, the Earthen idly looped the reins around each saddle horn. With nary a glance up, he adjusted the stirrups to suit both human and elf—a ritual done countless times before.

Behind them, a trio of Kul Tirans were making their final ascent up the stairs. There was a moment of raucous laughter and buoyant shouting before they paused to take in the sunlight, just as Avalear and Eluvianna had.

Their eyes quietly settled on the pair of Stormrooks. Mutters followed. A few groans came as they gathered in a loose circle, fists waiting over open palms.

One chiding, “Now...no cheating, Merris.”

The accused immediately barked his offense, “Oi!”

The Earthen chuckled and carried on. “Aye, adventurers or no, it be a long haul!” He gave the birds a pat and offered up the reins.

There had been no mention of payment, but Eluvianna would fuss at her belt, exchanging a modest amount of coin for the leather.

The dwarf's eyes widened at the gold in his hand. Then a grateful smile.

“Ah, service o’ Donogal, ma’am—but ‘preciate it.”

Eluvianna nodded politely. Steadying a foot in the stirrup, with a small hop she swung a leg over the rook, settling into the saddle.

“Thank you,” she said, now able to better see the Kul Tirans waiting from a respectful distance. One looked particularly annoyed.

“Seems it will be a long day, still.”

Once both were mounted, the Earthen saluted, giving each rook a firm thwack at the haunches. A sharp click of his tongue sent the birds off on their route.

As the scene grew smaller, they would see him wave with a grin and a shout, “SAFE TRAVELS!”

@dawn-blossom

[eluviannaa]

Okay, but this is the perfect caption...

@allasticus

just relapsed on seeking knowledge

[eluviannaa]

FIREFLY PATH Crystal Cape if you want to support this blog consider donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways

[eluviannaa]

Void official 💜

[eluviannaa]

Renathal taunted me in the Venthyr Sanctum for the entirety of Shadowlands with the hand gesture (previously unused from way back when.) Then they gave it to Alleria in Dalaran with the lean.

Now, it's our turn and I am absolutely crying...

we do get a /lean emote though, which probably makes up for this

[eluviannaa]

Jesse Draxler

[eluviannaa]

Lamplighter's Pauldrons, Stave of the Harbinger, Radiant Vestments of the Heavens

My headcanon is Elu technically has Ren'dorei heritage armor, but it never felt exactly...right. Still looking for something a bit more her. Maybe this one?

[eluviannaa]

There was no recoil, only a chuckle—a gentle tide dragging and releasing into silence.

Her voice hollowed the space between them, “perhaps...something familiar, then.”

The blade flickered and dimmed, finally disappearing into nothingness. In its place, a single spark flared—splintering motes of violet once more. They drifted. Spun. Then, unseen fingers wove with purpose:

The Scholar.

A corporeal form. Yet, an illusion. A past touched by warmth. A veil of muted gold sweeping across her shoulders. Eyes cast in a glow of blue. There were no tendrils. No corruption.

“I tether what was lost…what has slipped from consciousness.”

Restraint pressed against something sinister.

“Oh...but my dearest Entity,” the words curled around him but did not touch.

“I am her.”

A hand lifted.

“This place, it holds what the Void could not consume. Not will,” a hum, “but time and memory. Sanctuary.”

She turned a shoulder with a tsk. A faint beckon.

“And what is here will reveal more than words alone.”

@allasticus

~

Headcanon:

It's been such a balance to write this.

The blade isn't Elu. It's corruption personified—the focus used in her transformation. But it's not trying to corrupt her. It's just its nature to be dark.

The memories in the pendant act as a kind of failsafe. Instead of losing these positive fragments because of corruption, they've been archived. But she doesn't know any of this...yet.

What you don't know can't be taken. In theory.

[eluviannaa]

Thank you Saffy!! I will always be absolutely smitten with anything from their discography, but loving your pick so much. And we do have some very lovely things in common, it's true. 💜

💿 *claps in ST but it's okay if it's something different too* 🖤

Send 💿 for my muse to choose a song that matches your muse's vibe.

Eyes rose on the vision that was the Archivist, regal and delicate. As Eluviana wore her careful smile, Safrona reflected it. "For another burdened and gifted with the Void at the same time? I...feel in my soul that you'd appreciate this Offering as much as I do."

'And we are exhausted by all this pretending, we just can't resist the violence'

{ @eluviannaa - I attempted to grant your wish ;) Enjoy }

[eluviannaa]

Send 💿 for my muse to choose a song that matches your muse's vibe.

The decay is slow like a hymn. Creeps like contempt. A bit elegant, a bit feral. Sung with breath drawn from the hollow of nostalgia.

♪

I'm on my bed

My bed of stones

But in the end of the night

We'll rest our bones

Thank you @sanguinesorceress! Had to go with haunted...anticipation (?) vibes. Honestly, the entire album has it.

[eluviannaa]

Also, hello? These coats from the BfA Timewalking vendor, my heart...

Would love coats maybe as a dual slot mog—back or chest. The tabard was nice for the colors I was going for vs. the attached shirt. But imagine.