loyalbled

[loyalbled]

her eyes watched carefully , something sullen masks the anger that's bitterly filled within her heart. death was something that she'd been taught was always a part of life. you live , and if lucky long enough to see children grow , and then you die. that was the cycle. it made it harder for her to empathize , but she did. by gods did she because for once her shoes could not weather this ache , she had to put herself in the other's , how she would feel if the tables were reversed. the feeling leaves her with a shroud of emotions that she was not privy to exuding by any compacity. but there lingers her voice , soft and gentle , it wraps around her. tugs at her gut. a slow breath falls past the plush of rosy tiers. "i do struggle with that , most times." feelings. emotions. though currently loud it brings discomfort. especially in front of meilin. "have you heard of karma before?"

「 ˖˙ ᰋ ─ 」 STATUS. ﹕ open.  「 ˖˙ ᰋ ─ 」 LOCATION. ﹕ the streets in the capital, during midday 「 ˖˙ ᰋ ─ 」 FEAT. ﹕ meilin & anyone.

Somberness clung in the air, and yet here she stood, walking around as if it was nothing but it was everything. Too many had been hurt after the attack and while some felt at piece a culprit was caught, the bright flower had felt like she lost it all. Meilin felt guilty, her father was gone, mother was trapped and she was stuck with a mark that felt like a chain. Resting her head against the cold stone behind her after spending sometime in the marketplace before deciding it was bet she head back to where she was being held. "Even the capital feels too quiet, I don't think anyone actually knows how to feel right now." her tone soft. her words sounding almost like a whisper as she spoke to the other. Hopefully believable. she was shown far too much of death in such a short amount of time and it bothered her. But she knew better than to complain like a child, she knew people would expect sadness from her and here she was acting as if her brightness hadn't dull at all.

[loyalbled]

take me back | insp

[loyalbled]

the  silence  stirs  around  them  ,  heavy  and  suffocating.  slender  arms  perched  over  her  chest  ,  jaw  tight  and  breath  far  too  controlled  for  comfort.  she  didn't  need  to  make  herself  known  with  him.  even  now  ,  between  the  two  was  an  unspoken  agreement—when  she  was  near  he  notices.  if  she  so  called  for  him  ,  he  would  come.  in  a  room  filled  to  the  brim  with  other  voices  ,  he  could  spot  her's  from  a  mile  away.  his  attention  ,  without  fail  ,  was  always  her's  to  divert.

the  soft  wind  brushes  all  too  perfect  curls  like  gentle  waves  against  her  back  ,  tiger  eyes  far  more  soft  and  beady  than  usual.  perking  her  gaze  up  to  his  ,  searching  within  them.  they  were  bred  of  different  cloths  ,  that  was  plain  to  see.  but  something  deep  down  inside  her  loathes  the  sight  she  was  forced  to  witness.  pale  staken  cheeks  dons  a  quiet  grimace  ,  breath  hitched  inside  her  throat  as  bile  threatens  to  lurch  from  her  chest.  quietly  she  seethes.  something  about  the  scorching  pain  felt  on  the  nape  of  his  neck  quarrels  like  hot  rods  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach.  she  didn't  like  when  other's  touched  what  was  her's.

"where  are  your  friends  then  ?  oh  wait..."  brows  raise  ,  lips  tugging  in  a  small  pout  as  she  slips  up  on  her  tip  toes  ,  trying  to  get  a  better  glimpse  of  the  infliction  scorned  to  his  neck.  trying  to  understand  the  damages  that  have  been  done.  "you  might  have  liked  it  more  if  it  had  come  from  my  hand  ,  no  ?  even  cherished  the  ache  that now  sits  on  the  nape  of  your  neck. tell me."

Status: closed For: ilithyia @loyalbledWhere: the royal courtyard

A faint breath of wind rustles through the trees, rocking them into an idle sway, it kisses the ghastly pallor of his skin with the coldest of lips, and he feels his ungloved knuckles burn from it; the feeling is like a distant memory even as takes place, he is only vaguely aware of the discomfort of something perpetually aching in the back of his neck—the aftermath of the trial happened so fast. It's as if he'd blinked—and here he was. It all feels like much of a blur, in retrospect. He can't remember where she was standing, which he usually can—was she even there? Did she watch? She must've. She always does, standing like a pillar of righteousness beside the heavy hand of her father. He can't recall, but he is plagued instead by sporadic flashes of screams, gasps, bursting through his bubble of apparent serenity.

Sure as the sky is blue, vultures come circling when the stench of death lingers; he recognizes that shade of gold from the corners of his eyes without needing to spare so much as a fleeting glance.

It's grating.

His fingers twitch, coiling reflexively.

The labored sigh that exhales through his nostrils feels nearly performative in how loud it is, as if he's trying his hardest to make his displeasure known. "What?" His head turns, finally, sharp and decisive, eyes black and venomous as they fixate on her, and the whole world ceases to exist, trying to figure out what was behind her skull and how it was something so small could contain so much evil, anyway. "...Don't you have any friends to go torment or something?" It teeters on the line of disrespect, which he's ever so mindful not to trip over. "Or are you here to express your disappointment that it wasn't your hand holding the branding iron, your Highness?"

[loyalbled]

.¸¸.•`  [   HALSTON SAGE   ,   CIS FEM  ,   SHE/HER   ]   the  almighty  has  blessed  us  once  more,   it   seems ILITHYIA CLARA EISSEN  has  come   to   ilthoria.   the   PRINCESS ,   brings  with  them  such  glorious  fortune  and  they  are  known  for  being  INTUITIVE  but  also  IRASCIBLE.  joy  will  spark  when  the  TWENTY-NINE  year  old  comes  to  court.  what  songs  would  be  sung  in  their  name  ?  [  BITE THE HAND +   BOYGENIUS ]  for  in  the  decades  to  come  they  will  sing  of  : golden tresses cascades down her back with an ethereal glow as the sun beams upon her , silver spoon tucked between plush rosy tiers , inward dispute of the atrocities dealt by the hands of loves she loves.  may  enerin  bless  your  soul,  welcome  to  ilthoria  child.  [   zepplin/zeppy   .   she/her   .   21+   .   est   .  n/a   ]

basics.

name : ilithyia clara eissen . nicknames : brat ( derogatory , exclusive use for moyun ) , iliya , princess ( derogatory ) age : 29 official title : princess of ardora gender : cis female with she ⅋ her pronouns orientation : pansexual ⅋ demiromantic .

psyche.

mental : anxiety with fleeting bouts of depression. allergies : none. disabilities : poor eyesight. eating habits : nutritious. fitness : constant walks through her personal garden. sleeping habits : displays constant fragmented sleeping patterns. moral alignment : chaotic neutral. personality type : ENTJ-A , the challenger , big pain in the ass™

you were born with a silver spoon tucked between the plush of your lips. hair as golden and full as the sun beams it's warmth over your people , cheeks soft and rosy in color announcing your innocence to the world. one of the sweetest creatures that ardora had ever laid their eyes on. little did they know the trouble this new bundle of joy would cause them.

never pliant and certainly never tame , you gave your parents and care takers a run for their sanity. while certain siblings played their part well , it was never in your nature to stick to the script. late to every function , lessons never taken too seriously. your outlook on life got you in so much trouble , but never truly enough. you'd never admit it , but you're the apple of your father's eye. you bled something wild , something mirthful. in the tumult of your home you chatter of ambition and it echoes in his ear. it makes him smile , you remind him of the person he once was.

you grow and so do your strengths. you become more poised , yet more stubborn. more wise , yet more impudent. the hunger of power burgeons from the heart , encompassing around you like evergreen vines with dangerous thorns. you find you can get away with so much more when you pretend to care. and maybe , just maybe , you actually do. they think of you as a wildcard. good.

the role you were born into is the role you slowly and wearily strive to harness by only the will of your own desires. wearing gowns as they are meant to be worn with your golden tresses coiled to perfection. always told you were in not need of defense , that your beauty would save you from all. so you taught yourself how to wield a sword , how to emphasize destruction from the tip of your tongue. those knowing , they fear you.

now you bring a presence that cannot be ignored. everything you do you do it effortlessly. suitors seek you out alike , but none of them catch your eye. you understand what you want and what you crave. it is never them.

love aches to be released from somewhere deep inside you , keeping that feeling locked up tight with chains and keys. you hold out for something. it will come , when it is ready.

wanted connections.

tba