icehaloed

[icehaloed]

Patience was a virtue, but Ur had known few fire mages who could confidently claim this virtue as theirs. She supposed it was rather . . . antithetical to their powers. She had never dabbled in fire magic, but from her academic knowledge of it, it required a quick, decisive hand. When working with fire, the books had claimed, hesitation meant destruction, and consequently, those who used the element needed to have a keen understanding of when to call it quits, when to withdraw their flames. Ur was very confident that any type of magic, if left uncontrolled, could spell destruction, but she supposed that she could admit that fire was as suited to destruction as it was to creation. Strange, how these things sometimes went.

To her, it just meant that while patience might not be a coveted quality in fire users, insight and perceptiveness were important traits.

"I haven't been to Carnation Town often enough to be an expert on this place, but very few things are set in stone," she said calmly. "I think my father used to do business here, before I was born." She was fairly sure her mother had not liked to meet with the mayor of Carnation Town, but from her understanding, that had been a personal disagreement and had had nothing to do with the air of . . . snobbishness that enveloped the city. "Adina, my sister, she's coming to Carnation Town to check up on an old acquaintance of hers."

What was Adina like? An excellent question. Stubborn, yes, but that was a bad thing to lead with. Diligent, but that might make her sound too serious, which would almost be a lie. Adina was a lot of things, occasionally even two (or more) contradictory things at the same time. "She's not a mage," Ur said, because that was not just true but also easy. Defining Adina by the traits she did not have, by the absence of negative qualities was . . . an approach. A weird approach, maybe, but hey---an approach nevertheless. "It's difficult to describe, but she's never cruel and never boring. She has a distaste for people who abuse their power and influence. She likely still doesn't take good enough care of herself, but I have been told I am sitting in a glass house and really shouldn't throw stones."

@icehaloed - moved from legacy post

Even with the canine accepting Ur’s presence and seeming to be happy and relaxed, Frankie kept herself attuned to him, just in case. She grinned as he wagged his tail, his gentle bark almost sounding as if it was in agreement to the ice mage’s words. Pride and affection warmed her as she watched the pair interact.

“He really is the best.” They hadn’t always gotten along, truth be told. He’d barked excessively when she’d first encountered him, driven by the need to protect the building and what he’d viewed as ‘his’ territory. She’d taken her time letting him get used to her, and before long…they were inseparable. Her years of self-isolation in the forest had taught her great patience, as well as respect for animals and the natural world.

Beginning to integrate herself back into society was no easy matter, particularly with Carnation Town as her starting point. The location of the guildhall made it easier, being on the fringes of the town, close enough to the forest so that she never felt too confined. One might think it strange, that she felt more alone among the townspeople than she ever did on her own in the wilderness.

“Carnation isn’t that bad,” she said, perhaps more to reassure herself than as any passing comment, “I think everyone will come around to him, and me…and magic in general…after a while.”

Hope rekindled her smile, images of her guild and the townspeople getting along fuelling it. They would come to depend on each other, respect and care for each other, the benefits of such a relationship causing them both to flourish. The future shined brightly in her mind. It would just be a matter of time.

She put her hands together in a light clap, as if closing the topic in her thoughts for now. Her eyes fell to Ur’s face, curiosity sparking back to life.

“You said you’re going to be meeting up with your sister, is she a mage too? What’s she like? If you don’t mind me asking.”

[icehaloed]

She ran her hand through her hair, fingernails scraping against her scalp, almost hard enough to draw blood. The hiss of pain was enough to centre herself, enough to get her to snap out of whatever weird mood she was now in. There was much she had to say, but few words that were willing to leave her throat. Then, when had words ever been her friend? She had always been better at actions.

"I was . . . unwell." This felt almost like an understatement, but this was not about her, not really. This was about Lyon. "And you were a child. I should have been more present, more of a caretaker." More of a mother, but she could not bring herself to say it. And wasn't that almost funny in the most tragic of ways? How words were always what got stuck in her throat? Even when she really, really wanted them to cooperate with her? How no matter how much time passed, she could count on that? "I figured that along the years, you would have arrived at this realisation as well, that it wasn't fair. That you deserved a degree of warmth I . . . wasn't capable of as I was handling things quite badly at the time. And that's what I am sorry for."

She bowed her head, her hand limply dangling at her side. There was a weird type of exhaustion that came with her attempts at . . . making amends. She wished that would stop, she did not want to live as a ghost of her own past---did not want to be a haunting to others. Had she come back for that? To just be as before when surely, by now, she should have started to heal so that her pain would cease to harm others?

She shrugged. Weakly. "I guess I still worry about you, even though you're an adult now," she admitted.

it was almost astonishing how quickly one can slip back into an old, old habit. it was one that, when thought of, made adult lyon cringe just a bit. the habit is the part of him that waited on the edge, eager to listen, to wait for ur too talk. his attention was focused, he felt impatient, each second an eternity. but he always waited. all the way back then, when she was his teacher and now, when she ... well, teacher is a rather retired title. he's learned how to learn and grow on his own now. his dynamic ice make has come a long, long way.

mother felt...personal. and legal. he's never called her that.

mentor, maybe. mentor could work. it was flexible, more mature. his mentor finally spoke and — lyon was left in confusion.

"ur..." lyon's brows furrowed, "why would i be angry with you?" it was genuine. he ... he made his own fair share of mistakes. his entire...moon drip experiment was dangerous. what could he be angry about? with ur, at least? in fact, he's let go of a lot of anger over the years.

ah, wait. "if it's about .... not contacting me, that's .... i mean, i get it, ur. you literally came back to life. i'm not on the top of the list of priorities after something like that, i get it. besides, i'm an adult now." something coiled within him and he crossed his arms over his chest.

lyon's thoughts lingered back to The argument. surely, she knew he learned from that? right? she didn't die originally thinking he still thought himself as a replacement, right? it distressed him a bit, but he found himself not willing to ask.

[icehaloed]

the snow storm had come unannounced,  and Ur had frowned at it from the safety of the grocery store for several minutes before she had shoved her purchases into a dimension bubble,  wrapped her scarf closer around her neck and headed out.  it was not supposed to snow,  not around this time of the year.  absentmindedly,  she hoped that Solomon had picked up on the darkening skies before she had and that he had created a shield around her garden because otherwise,  her gardening efforts would be ruined before she was back home.

around her,  people rushed towards their houses,  the mutterings in the air informing her that they,  too,  had not known of the storm’s coming and that they were glad their families were safely home.  magic,  then.  not hers,  not Solomon’s—she had never dabbled in spells that affected the weather and Solomon would not do this, either,  which meant that somewhere out in the newly returned cold,  there was some kind of troublemaker.  Ur sighed quietly as she marched into the blizzard,  trusting her feet to carry her home as she cast spell upon spell to keep the snow away from her as she fished her communication lacrima from her pocket to text her partner.

[ txt — 12:15 ; sent ]          it’s a magic storm.  can you take care of the origin?

[ txt — 12:17 ; received ]   already on it,  love.  see if you spot any hikers?

[ txt — 12:17 ; sent ]          gotcha.  i’ll make some tea for you when i get home, babe.

he had made a good point,  an excellent point even,  she thought.  there were never many tourists in Iris Town which had originally lured them to the area,  but they had not counted on guild mages that seemed to have a tendency to pop up just about anywhere or on the kind of hiker that seemed to believe that the more dangerous a terrain was,  the more worthy it was of their time.  weird people,  she mused as she stood still for a moment,  ignoring the raging of the storm and instead listening for softer,  calmer sounds—like footsteps,  like breath.  there were empty cabins all over the mountain range and she hoped that anyone out there had made it to one of them,  but she knew how treacherous this sort of weather could be,  how easy it was to walk in circles and never know. and ——

there.  a person.  she moved quickly,  shoving the snow aside as she approached the stranger.  she almost would have missed him,  he felt so cold that he almost blended in with the frosty surroundings,  but a dot of dark was still visible amidst the white.  ‘‘ Hello there, ’’ she greeted hastily as she rummaged through her dimension bubbles to seek for something that would offer warmth, ‘‘ I got you. ’’

@resolvebound for Rogue!

[icehaloed]

Preface: For a creature that has caused tremendous trauma to a main character, there is very little that is actually known about Deliora beyond the demon being from the Book of Zeref and the fact that Ur was instrumental in ending the reign of terror. This headcanon is an attempt to give a logic and a motive to what is canonically a rather random chain of events, almost like a natural disaster rather than something done by a sentient creature. As so often, this headcanon is inspired by conversations I have had with others, in this case @resolvebound. I genuinely like the idea that all the seemingly random threads that all somehow connect to Zeref actually connect in a manner that makes at least a bit of sense.

It was not possible for anyone to really track and then hunt down the demon because there was a handler of sorts, someone who would summon the demon when there was 'work' to do and who would otherwise be able to travel incognito. This handler, of course, was a rather human looking demon associated with Tartarus, someone who had been given the page of the book Deliora was sealed into and was told to attack a series of cities and villages along the northern borders of Fiore, occasionally also attacking select locations outside of Fiore*.

While at the time, it seemed like Deliora's attacks were entirely random and lacked any sense, there was an underlying theme, a pattern: all cities targetted by the demon possessed some sort of resource, whether that was knowledge or rare materials that could be mined. The idea of the attacks being entirely random was due to no two cities having the same resources and at the time, the context of the attacks was unknown. Additionally, the cities were entirely destroyed so it was not apparent at the time that the resources were being taken.

Rare materials were needed by the cult of Zeref as Deliora's rampage falls together with the construction of the infamous Tower of Heaven. Additionally, the cult was also kidnapping and enslaving people to work at the construction site. For some people who survived the demon's attack, a horrible fate awaited them when what at first glance appeared to be salvation was actually a trap.

Criteria that were typically met by cities and other locations attacked by Deliora:

the city has no major fortification (see: walls, magical defenses, etc)

in a similar vein, the cities were typically not home to a (noteworthy) wizard guild

the location is a major supplier of a rare resource (ores, lacrima, etc)

the location is relatively isolated and even if a distress call is made, it would take too long for any help to actually arrive

the city has its own registration office, meaning that once the city is destroyed and the office with it, it becomes difficult for eventual relief efforts to really know how many people have been in the city at the time of the attack, which in turn made it easy to 'disappear' some of the survivors

of course, some larger cities may not have been hit for their individual economical resources but because they were rich in inhabitants

As she is very intelligent and excels at thinking outside the box, Ur was able to predetermine some potential targets after she realised that all previously attacked locations had the resource 'theme' in common. She consequently came across Gray because she had been on the way to his hometown to alert the people of the looming danger. What the resource in Gray's hometown was may depend on the individual portrayal, but suffice to say, due to being summoned rather than needing to travel overland, Deliora beat her to the city and destroyed it.

*I have elaborated on why I do not think that Deliora's rampage happened far away from Fiore on another blog, but the basis is that all characters that we know tp have some connection to the demon somehow wound up in Fiore and it is wildly implausible that an eight year old child would have been able to travel all the way to Magnolia without having been stopped by some country's CPS along the way.

[icehaloed]

Ur smiled, allowing her ever-present anxieties to be lulled to sleep for the moment. She was always a little nervous nowadays, and she did not like to venture too far from her mountain home because there was the steady risk of being recognised for what she was (someone who should be dead and gone), but she supposed that was just how life was, sometimes---a constant bargaining, a constant negotiation between safety and wants.

She had promised herself that she would use her second chance by keeping a low profile, by keeping to herself and avoiding anything that would risk her life. She owed it to the people who loved her and who had mourned her once already to stay safe. But still, she had always been just a little bit impulsive and it showed in the questions she asked, in what it was that made her so obviously apprehensive.

"A fire demon, you say?" she asked as she fully averted her gaze from the passing landscapes outside to regard the younger woman as she steadied herself. If the demon was anywhere as dangerous as Deliora, she was certain, she would have heard by now. And really---wandering, lingering demons should not surprise her. Now and then, Sol went and tracked down the demons that were making too much of a ruckus. He was retired, he was always quick to remind her, and she had made fun of him for that, for being an old man. But it was difficult to maintain lightness in the face of, well, demons. Neither of them really liked to talk about them.

@icehaloed moved from legacy post

A common name. Lisanna found herself sighing, a smile reflexively coming to her lips. She nodded and hummed, briefly thinking back to her old hometown and wondering how it had fared after, well, everything. Just because Bluebell had chased her and her siblings out when they were young, didn’t mean she stopped caring about the town. There were plenty of nice memories there, and nice people too (although she’d never been able to bring herself to return to the place).

“Flower festival?” Her attention was caught, her smile brightening. If she hadn’t already been holding onto her water bottle, she would have clasped her hands together in excitement. “That sounds wonderful! I would love to see all the jams and preserves too. Ooh, I’ll just have to make sure to visit next time it’s on!”

Her mind was already filling with images of the festival, and of all the sweet treats she could use the fruit preserves for. It was an effort to pull her thoughts back to the moment at hand, and as she spoke, her earlier thought about keeping her questions to herself was far from her mind.

“You said you’re going to visit family? I’m going to meet up with my sister in Carnation. She doesn’t live there, but we’re looking into a quest in the area. Apparently there’s some kinda fire demon in the forest.”

[icehaloed]

“James Baldwin, The Art of Fiction No. 78”, An Interview by Jordan Elgrably

[icehaloed]

Nothing could break her the way her children could, it seemed---and as she had died, the bar had been raised quite high. Still. She knew that she had done Lyon wrong. She knew that her defence was weak, fragile. Insufficient. Inadequate. None of this had been supposed to happen, but her plans had come undone---fate had not unfolded the way she would have liked. The spindle that she had lost her grip on had unspooled, but everything had slipped out of her control.

There had been no sense of peace for her. The cut had been too deep. And it had been left to fester, there had been no healing. The silence and the peace of the woods had rejected her, there had been nothing for her to escape to. The serenity of nature had not sheltered her when she had needed it the most. She had travelled down the road of grief for such a long time that she had been beyond hope, but she had still wanted to try. Alas---she had been out of time. Out of good moves.

And Lyon had paid the price for that. Even then, such a long time ago, he had been too eager to shoulder the burden of responsibility. It had worried her then, and it seemed like this concern had not evaporated when she had. He had been supposed to go out into the world she had been hiding from. He had been supposed to go into a life where light filled every corner.

Sharp teeth dug into her lip, almost drawing blood. '' I truthfully don't know how to engage in a conversation like this myself, Lyon. And, ah----I've never been good at talking. For me, the simplest thoughts are sometimes hardest to phrase, '' she responded quietly. Honestly. It was not simple for her. She was a terrible liar, but that was because her tongue was made from lead rather than silver. '' And no, there's nothing you have to apologise for. Quite the opposite, I expected you to be angry with me. ''

it was good to see him. that surprised lyon; enough so that he began to feel his heartbeat again. his body has now settled into this newness. he had faced hells of his own making and of others making, he almost died in an explosion, fought against dragons (rather futilely, for he was no slayer), fought against the mere memory of ur now and all the worst humanity had to offer from alvarez. and yet, he was here. with ur. he did not want to fight.

fighting was rarely ever his first instinct, only when it was forced upon him by circumstance did he choose it. he was an inquisitive type. lyon first wanted to understand what he did not. in the years since he last saw ur, he spoke more languages, ancient ones too, and has read many, many more texts than even the child version of him could have imagined. it was knowledge he wanted. always. it was all he needed.

"yes...it is good." that was no lie. "whether it was a miscalculation of the spell or some outside influence, i am happy it happened." this made the fact that ultear was alive and a free-ish woman all the better. his mouth twitched into some sort of smile at that, remembering the quite frankly, rude words he once spoke. the audacity of youth. lyon didn't have that now. he didn't want to bombard her with questions as he might have done yet he also didn't want to talk about himself. he didn't know what the play was to make her not feel incredibly overwhelmed. there was no real way of handling this, was there? perhaps a crack at honesty may help. "...i don't know what to say, to be honest, ur. should i .... crack a joke? apologize? ask you questions?" he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "what .... do you want from me, here?"

[icehaloed]

[icehaloed]

#006:  BROKEN DREAMS.   an original and free template.    credit not necessary but appreciated.   if you’d like to support me,  you can donate through payhip or buy the premium version on deviantart,  or you can buy me a coffee.   :     𝙳𝙰   /   𝙿𝙷   /   𝙰𝙻𝚃.  

[icehaloed]

sometimes         it is that         simple         : to survive         this blood-drenched crawling         wailing life is not possible         and neither is         blinking through scars         into a beaming sun without forgetting         start with simple: living         is not possible         without life

— Rosamond S. King, from All the Rage

[icehaloed]

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. A common saying, but one that had truth to it. Ur---Ur who had mastered the art of freezing things---just wished it was not true to this extent. Lyon should have been allowed to find more peace of mind. She did not think that had been possible for him, and guilt surged within her veins once more. She should have done better---for him, but that had not been possible at the time. In some way, the deck had been stacked against them.

She rubbed her wrist as if she tried to smoothe out the faint little scar that had remained there from moving debris, all those years ago, right after Deliora had devasted Gray's hometown. It was strange how that scar had stayed. How she was not allowed to forget some things. There was another scar on her left knee, and that was the one she loathed. A reminder of the collapse.

'' It has been longer for you than for me, I'd wager, '' she said as she forced herself to keep her voice smooth and calm. Getting too emotional would mean to risk being emotionally manipulative, and she did not want to do that. '' . . . but it is good to see you, Lyon. ''

This much had to be allowed, right?

evidence-based. yes. that was something lyon was still rather infamous for. it was nice to know that habit was ingrained long before he was desperate, measuring the ice husk — no, it was not a husk, it was her. was this always a fact or was it born of desperation? he was, again, no longer sure. it would depend on how much consciousness his teacher had when she was ice. that was something he both needed to know and it was knowledge that he should absolutely not have. why was it the same decisions that continued to haunt?

besides. he could still do the math and facts add up all too easily for lyon. she probably knew enough about what he had done; his hand in the unmaking of her last choice — for she did not reach out to him on purpose. she was pushed into this. shame gripped his figure yet he disguised it with a raise of an eyebrow — a false casualty to this encounter — "i originally thought she might be connected to you, but dismissed it as the name is popular. i should follow my instincts more."

he didn't need her to tell him that; she was freed of her obligations to him. he should not be bitter. lyon was a better person now, he had to be. he attempted to uncurl himself, breathe out and let the chill pass on by. "hello, all the same, ur. it's ah ... been a while."

[icehaloed]

On one of the many tracks that made up her mind, Ur found herself wondering if killing her sister would mean that the Church would stop with their insistence that she was a saint.  Perhaps, perhaps not. It was a little tempting either way, but she set the thought aside as she beheld her first student. The kid that she had adopted, about twenty years ago. One thing was quite apparent---Lyon was no longer a scrawny kid, advertising his skill at making grilled cheese.

( The thought almost caused hysterics, but she managed to breathe past that. )

In some ways, ways that could not be put into words, she had dreaded this reunion more than most others. Lyon, she supposed, was the one her 'death' had toppled into the worst crisis. And she had not gotten to say goodbye---Gray had had at least that much, not that she thought it had helped him much. And Lyon had deserved the goodbye just as much, but nothing had been fair---or according to plan, that day.

She ran a hand through her hair, blue eyes never leaving Lyon. She would not need Ice Make: Eden to cut through this unpleasant awkwardness, she thought. Words had never been her forte, but she would have to say something. She wished Adina had given her a fair chance to prepare for this, but Adina had always been one to swim in sink-or-swim scenarios. And her older sister knew that if Ur would wait until she felt that she had prepared a sufficient statement, years would pass.

Coughing twice, she cleared her throat and managed a tiny smile. '' Dina is usually trustworthy, but I know you're an evidence based person, '' she said quietly. '' It was a surprise to me as well. ''

there was never a time more than this moment that lyon has felt the CLOSEST to ice. the chill he used to find comfort in wrapped itself around his chest in a frigid squeeze. his heart seemed to be going too fast it felt slow, just as the air left his mouth. no amount of forewarning (and there was NOT a lot) could have ever truly prepared him for this moment. he only knew his mouth closed when he swallowed the nothing in his throat.

before lyon was ur. who was ice. ice that he melted. but it wasn't some believable ice sculpture — she was breathing. and looking at him, too. he wondered if she was as caught off as he was.

this was lyon vastia — his wits were about him. he was quite good at math, thank you, so the truth was apparent right away. ur has been alive for some time. her clothes were her own style, not rushed at all, her sister (she so was the right feldt, afterall) set him up like this. that took planning. ultear must know, too, because how wouldn't she? did gray know, too? was lyon's trip to galuna really worth that much resentment? how could he possibly face her now, as a man, with that shadow looming over him? was he even allowed to be upset because of that?

"...ah." lyon forced something like a word out of his mouth. he cursed himself inwardly and shook his head. "forgive me, i ... it takes a lot to believe at first, even if adina gave me some warning." there was nothing to truly warn about this situation and he hoped they both knew it.

@icehaloed

[icehaloed]

pluck - from iceshrouded

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver’s hair.

Love was strange, was persistent. It was gentle, maybe, but if it was, it was gentle the way that frostbite snuck up on you. Soft footed, velvet touched---but able to cut so very deep. She was familiar with frostbite. She was less familiar with love. She could just recognise it, but she never dared to push at it too much. It could fall apart. She could not risk that. It was too precious, too fragile.

Like an ice crystal.

Solomon's approach, too, was always quieter than people would expect. He was quite big, after all. She turned her head to look at him, a smile appearing on her face. It was a nice autumn day, a perfect day to prepare the garden for the oncoming winter. '' Hey, '' she said as she leaned against her shovel. '' The ground's not yet frozen, that's perfect. ''

He laughed---a deep, rumbling sound from deep within his chest---as he crossed their garden with half as many steps as it would take her to accomplish the same before one hand cupped the side of her face as the other fussed with her hair. Then, he let go and a leaf, orange gold and perfect, fluttered away on a breeze. She smiled, resting her head against his arm for a moment.

@iceshrouded

[icehaloed]

WHAT TYPE OF VILLAIN ARE YOU?

Then Let Me Be Evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

[icehaloed]

actions speak louder than words non - verbal / action prompts from yours truly. (add a "swap" to swap the sender/receiver in the prompt (or just do it manually).)

back, sender gives receiver a back hug.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger.

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

book, sender helps receiver get a book from a higher part of the shelf.

care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

choke, sender saves receiver from choking by giving them the heimlich.

cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

cry, sender wipes tears off receiver's face with their thumbs.

dance, sender sticks a hand out to receiver and invites them to dance.

dip, sender skinny dips in front of receiver and invites them to join.

dog, sender's dog pulls them in receiver's direction.

drive, sender drives receiver somewhere in their car.

drag, sender drags receiver into a room and closes the door behind them.

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them.

flower, sender gives receiver a flower.

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's.

grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.

jump, sender jumps onto receiver's back.

kiss, sender kisses receiver.

link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.

massage, sender offers receiver a massage.

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

pin, sender pins receiver's hands behind their back.

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver's hair.

press, sender presses receiver against a wall.

propose, sender proposes to receiver.

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

rest, sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder.

serenade, sender serenades receiver with a song.

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees.

size, sender measures the size of their hand against receiver's.

shoes, sender removes receiver's shoes for them.

sun, sender rubs sunblock onto receiver's back.

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

tie, sender helps tie receiver's tie.

tuck, sender tucks receiver's hair behind their ear.

umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella.

warning, sender presses a knife against receiver's neck as a warning.

zip, sender needs receiver's help to zip up the back of their dress.

[icehaloed]

Pablo Neruda, from “Tonight I Can Write”, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

[icehaloed]

Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; "Mythology"