sccintilla - Tumblr blog

[sccintilla]

{kristine froseth, 29, cis woman, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, PRINCESS CORALIE ORLÈANS of FRANCE! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are BENEVOLENT and GENEROUS enough to handle it. just don’t let your IMPATIENCE bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU LOST YOUR MEMORIES

title : princess coralie orleans . nicknames: cora, lily. dob : july 2 . orientation : bisexual / biromantic . languages : french, english . character inspiration: francesca bridgerton (bridgerton) , tanjiro kamado ( demon slayer ), rapunzel ( tangled )

biography

it  was  a  warm  day,  and  summer  was  blossoming  when  coralie  was  born,  with  a  smile  capable  of  brightening  even  the  darkest  days.  ever  since  she  was  young,  she  would  always  give  too  much,  wearing  her  heart  on  her  sleeve  and  never  minding  that  one  day  she  might  lose  it.. 

  despite  a  meticulous  education  offered  by  her  family,  coralie’s  head  would  always  be  in  the  clouds,  endless  melodies  humming  in  her  mind  as  she  was  waiting  for  the  lessons  to  end.  most  of  her  freetime  were  spend  on  the  piano,  her  fingers  dancing  gracefully  over  the  keys  and  producing  melodies  that  could  soothe  the  most  troubled  souls.  music  was  her  refuge  and  her  only  way  to  express  herself.  

  sometimes  she’d  also  sneak  out  the  palace  with  her  staff.  it  was  when  she  discovered  that  she  wanted  to  do  more  than  solely  waste  her  time  behind  the  comfort  of  her  home.  yet,  she  knew  her  own  capabilities  and  weaknesses,  she  wasn’t  knowledgeable  enough  to  treat  those  in  pain  nor  was  she  politically  capable  to  change  a  whole  nation.  instead,  she  tried  to  offer  comfort  with  her  music  .

  when  the  monarchy  changed,  she  felt  sympathy  with  the  people  and  welcomed  the  change,  as  she  knew  about  the  suffering  within  the  people.  she’d  still  continue  visiting  those  who  sought  comfort  in  her  music,  still  blissfully  unaware  about  the  dangers  hiding  in  every  corner  of  france. 

  it  was  a  serene  afternoon,  snow  falling  softly  and  blanketing  the  world  in  glittering  cold.  coralie  was  returning  from  a  visit  when  her  blood  run  cold.  realizing  that  she  witnessed  something  she  was  never  supposed  to  see.  her  heart  was  racing,  knowing  that  she  had  to  leave.  she  turned  around,  the  snow  crinkling  under  her  feet  and  then  her  world  faded  into  darkness  as  the  snow  gently  covered  her  like  a  blanket.

  when  she  opened  her  eyes,  her  mind  was  blank  and  her  body  wrapped  in  the  warmth  of  a  home  she  could  not  remember.  it  was  her  lady-in-waiting  who  told  her  about  everything,  her  name,  her  origin  and  who  she  was  supposed  to  be. 

until  this  day,  she’d  kept  her  loss  of  memories  a  secret,  only  her  lady-in-waiting  knowing  about  it.  sometimes,  she’d  feel  a  surge  of  familiarity  and  she’d  grasp  onto  it  so  desperately  so  she  could  shape  herself  back  into  the  person  she’d  lost  on  that  one  winter  day. 

more

tba

[sccintilla]

cecilia  was  usually  one  to  enjoy  festivities,  yet  apathy  towards  the  norwegian  celebration  settled  over  her  and  she  was  indulging  in  fine  wine,  hoping  to  drown  the  night  in  oblivion.  gazing  around,  a  dreamlike  state  had  cast  over  the  hall,   her  vision  blurry  and  yet  searching  for  a  spark  that  would  awaken  her.  among  the  crowd,  the  crimson  of  a  dress  caught  her  attention,  fuelling  her  unsteady  steps  as  she  made  her  way  towards  the  scottish  queen.  “  dance  ?”  cecilia  blinked  through  half-lidded  and  drowsy  eyes,  letting  out  an  intoxicated  laugh  and  straightening  her  back  in  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  appear  sober.  “  i  was  curious  about  that  pink  bubbling  drink  in  your  hand  but  it  seems  like  you  really  want  to  dance  with  me. ”  she  jested.  “  do  not  worry,  my  strong  arms  will  keep  you  from  falling,  you  just  need  to  allow  me  to  carry  you.” 

･ﾟ✧ — OPEN starter ( 0/4 ) ･ﾟ✧ — Norway's day of pride celebrations / Dawit's hall

As the melody, played by the small orchestra that was positioned in the corner of Dawit’s hall, built up to reach its conclusion Eilidh steps began to slow. The crimson fabric of her skirts wrapped around her legs as she ended her steps in a twirling motion. Followed by a half bow in the direction of her dance partner, who offered her a friendly smile. As the musicians readied themselves to play the first notes of the next song, the Scottish heiress excused herself and moved away from the dancefloor. Her cheeks felt a little flushed and her feet were begging her to be rested, if only for a little while. She was uncertain of how much time she had spent dancing, but the hurrying servants in the background told her it was getting close to midnight. 

As she wandered over to a table that was filled with refreshments, served in polished crystal, her eyes scanned the hall. Searching for a sign of any of the Norwegian royals, and a petite blonde one in particular. At first glance, she could not find any of them. Perhaps they were preparing themselves to give a speech after the clock struck twelve in celebration of their national day, or her eyes still failed to focus in a sea of glittering chandeliers and spinning figures. Either way, she was certain she would find them soon enough. Eilidh diverted her gaze back to the glasses on the table and picked up one that contained an interesting-looking pink, bubbling drink. Just as she was about to take a sip, something brushed along her shoulder. Turning swiftly, she almost caused half of the liquid to leave the glass but she steadied herself in time. “If you have a desire to dance with me, I fear I must disappoint you. My feet are currently incapable of moving along to any rhythm.”

[sccintilla]

wandering  down  the  path  to  the  garden,   her  delicate  slipper  barely  made  a  sound.  the  gentle  breeze  masked  her  presence  and  miray  wandered  lonely  through  blossoming  flowers.  as  she  drew  deeper  into  the  garden  and  utter  solitude,  she  noticed  the  figure  of  the  chinese  princess,  one  she  expected  at  the  grand  celebration  instead  of  any  other  place.  watching  her  from  a  distance,  miray  allowed  a  few  moments  to  pass,  hoping  that  perhaps  the  princess  was  about  to  be  entangled  in  something  scandalous  enough  that  could  free  her  from  the  boredom  she’d  felt  lately.   disappointingly,  watching  someone  talking  to  themself  barely  offered  the  entertainment  she’d  hoped  for  and  she  already  half-turned  on  her  heel  as  a  smell  invaded  the  delicate  scent  of  the  garden.  as  quickly  as  the  flicker  of  the  flame,  miray  grabbed  the  red  silk  organza  wrapped  around  her  waist,  beating  out  the  flames  with  a  determination  barely  visible  on  her  stoic  expression.   “  pardon  me  for  ruining  your  dress  but  it  was  lighting  up  the  garden . ”  she  pointed  out,  her  body  heaving  with  involuntary  exhaustion.   “  but  it  was  lighting  up  the  garden  and  i  doubt  you’d  like  to  ruin  your  brother’s  celebration.  although  he  does  strike  me  as  someone  who  would  enjoy  a  fire  show  .  ”

° • — OPEN starter ( 0/4 ) ° • — in the gardens, during china's banquet.

she had been sitting in front of the same flower, staring at it for what seemed like ages. it was a flower she had seen earlier in the week, and knew she wanted to come back and sketch it. now seemed like a good time, to distract herself from the celebrations she couldn't attend — not that she would though she did feel sorry for the sultana and wondered what lies she had been fed, too.

so there the little exiled princess sat, paints opened beside her, a candle burning on the other side and journal splayed out flat before her. yet, nothing was on the pages. her stare was aimless, her thoughts clearly not on what was before her. suddenly, she groaned, throwing her head back then forward.

"it's no use," she complained to herself, turning closing up her paints beside her before they spilled. she begun to pack them away into her small trunk that held them and unbeknownst to the princess, when she turned to do so — the silk of her dress had begun to catch fire from the candle.

[sccintilla]

જ location : dawit's hall ( national norway day celebration ) જ status : open

coralie  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  festivities,  hands  awkwardly  clutching  at  the  folds  of  her  skirt  as  she  observed  merry  faces  she  should’ve  perhaps  known  but  now  remained  foreign  and  illuminated  by  the  warmth  of  flickering  candlelight.  it  was  soon  to  be  midnight  and  her  heart  quickened  at  the  thought  of  making  a  wish.  desires  nor  a  past  she  could  remember  could  shape  her  hopes  for  a  future.  was  there  even  something  she  could  wish  for  ?   coralie  closed  her  eyes,  seeking  clarity  in  the  dark  void  greeting  her.  thinking  of  what  her  old  self  might’ve  wished  for.   yet,  she  knew  better  than  to  tie  her  heart  to  a  delicate  thing  such  as  hope.   falling  into  ashes  in  between  her  praying  hands.  “  i  wonder  if  a  wish  might  truly  come  true.  ”  she  opened  her  eyes,  a  gentle  smile  pressed  to  her  lips.  “  what  are  you  wishing  for  ?  ”

[sccintilla]

cecilia’s  crouched  body  tensed  with  every  flutter  of  a  wing,  her  head  resembling  the  movements  of  a  startled  horse  with  long  limbs  flailing  in  the  air.   never  would  she  have  thought  that  a  creature  so  small  and  of  such  fragility  could  so  easily  disrupt  her  usually  composed  demeanor,   yet  it  was  the  masses  of  unpredictable  flying  creatures  ,  at  least  that’s  what  she’d  told  herself,  that  frightened  the  princess.   with  her  hand  shielding  her  ducked  head,  cecilia  almost  ran  into  the  egyptian  queen,  seemingly  unbothered  and  worse  entranced  by  those  butterflies.  “  i  must  admit  i  prefer  watching  them  from  a  distance  but  i’m  delighted  to  see  you  enjoying  their  rather  shambolic  presence,  your  majesty.  ”  she  said,  straightening  her  back  as  she  felt  more  safe  having  someone  around.  “  perhaps  we  should  ask  for  a  painter  to  capture  the  beauty  of  this  moment,  so  you  can  also  remember  that  moment  at  home,  instead  of  waiting  for  another  five  years  to  pass.  ”

𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 — sahari & ( accepting 0/3 )

location : the simien mountains

time : during the butterfly migration

" aren't they just absolutely beautiful ? " the egyptian queen hummed , doing a child - like spin in her dress . this was a time that sahari always looked forward to . there was beauty , innocence in the flutter of a butterfly that she always found extraordinarily . . . inspiring . falling to her knees , she giggled as she continued to look up at the colorful creatures fly by ; hands moving to her cheeks as she let out a dreamy sigh . " apologies for my outburst . i just LOVE seeing this . if only it could be every year , not just every worse-some five . "

[sccintilla]

KRISTINE FROSETH IN THE BUCCANEERS

[sccintilla]

the  brief  desire  to  find  rest  had  easily  twisted  into  her  own  demise  when  miray  found  herself  near  the  mountains  she’d  planned  to  avoid  the  entire  stay.  it  only  took  seconds  of  inattention  and  a  wrong  turn  ,  or  admittedly  more  than  one  if  she  was  true  to  herself,  that  miray  was  now  entirely  lost  with  nothing  left  but  a  horrendous  sense  of  direction.  with  her  legs  heavy  and  a  tired  mind,  miray  decided  for  another  desperate  attempt  of  aimlessly  walking,  at  this  point  awaiting  a  miracle  that  would  lead  her  home.   it  was  only  when  she  spotted  someone  that  a  glimmer  of  life  returned  to  her  face.  “  pardon  me. ”  she  gestured,  unbeknown  that  she  was  talking  to  her  sibling.  “  would  you  mind  showing  me  the  way  to  the  palace  ,  i’m  afraid  i’m a little lost .  ”

open starter: ( 0 / 5 )

location: base of simien mountains

not quite strange that simpler garb could allow her camouflage. when one could keep their head bowed and walk with purpose, the noise of the every day provided deflection. and when an event as grand as this gathering occurred --- even better.

şenay takes one deep breath after another. the mountain range looms somewhere past her sight; all she sees before her is the path curling ahead. solace from the festivities; an escape from her family.

and yet, they look behind. always, always looking behind. and their eyes lock on another's, gaze widening. a soft "oh" drops from her lips, hands clenching at her sides.

[sccintilla]

𝐒𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀 written by daphne (she/her) && associated with theopulenthq . 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧; 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭.

princess cecilia de alecantara of brazil : intro && wanted connections princess coralie orleans of france : intro && wanted connections sultana miray abdul of turkey : intro && wanted connections

[sccintilla]

{özge yağiz, 27, cis woman, she/her }  we are so glad to see you safe,  SULATANA MIRAY ABDUL  of  TURKEY ! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are  CLEAR-HEADED  and  INCISIVE  enough to handle it . just don’t let your  OBSTINACY  bring you down ! stay on your guard , because with your secret being at risk for exposure , you wouldn’t want everyone to find out  THAT YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR BETROTHED'S DEATH. 

title : sultana miray abdul of turkey . dob : september 10th . orientation : bisexual / biromantic . languages : turkish , english , persian , arabic, french.

traits : adaptable , calm, distrusting, discreet, clear-headed, incisive, obstinant , deceptive, critical, cautious, insensitive, avoidant

background

miray  spends  her  childhood  living  up  to  the  image  she’s  created  herself,   one  polished  by  perfection,  free  of  mistakes  where  corrections  have  not  even  been  made.  it  is  befitting  to  that  of  the  glory  of  her  country  and  who  is  she  supposed  to  be  without  it  ?   she  knows  her  position  is  a  privilege  and  she  is  unworthy  of  it  if  she  doesn’t  work  for  it.  there  had  always  been  whispers,  those  of  envy�� and  those  speaking  half-truths  and  half-lies  which  she’s  always  thought  of  as  the  more  dangerous  ones.  so  she  shuts  these  voices  out,  unaware  that  it's  the  sweet  voices  of  the  people  closest  to  her  that  are  waiting  for  her  to  fall.   miray  avoids  most  contact  with  the  outside  world,  instead,  she’s  always  studying  with  her  lady-in-waiting,  broadening  her  mind  without  noticing  how  it  is  also  twisted  by  the  hand  that  feeds  her  with  knowledge.   miray  trusts  her  completely  and  she  doesn’t  even  know  that  she’d  become  part  of  a  game  she  was  always  supposed  to  lose.   one  day,  she  finds  herself  sick,  her  body  cold  and  hot  and  gasping  for  air  to  fill  her  with  life.  miraculously,  she’d  make  it  through  the  night  but  her  soul  would  forever  remain  scarred.  even  when  her  lady-in-waiting  is  dragged  out  of  her  room,  accused  of  poisoning  her  and   devoid  of  any  remorse  but  eyes  filled  with  hatred  towards  her,  miray  can  only  watch  her  as  she  feels  like  a  helpless  little  girl  again.    this  is  when  she  realizes  how  fragile  she  is,  her  country  and  the  faith  of  the  people.  the  walls  that  have  surrounded  her  crumble  and  all  she  can  see  is  her  own  fragility.    she  just  wants  to  understand  why.  how  someone  she  thought  loved  her  could  betray  her  like  that.  but  when  she  can’t  find  any  answers  of  how  love  could  become  so  twisted,  she  begins  to  ask  about  the  hows.  how  someone  managed  to  deceive  her  ?  how  they  made  the  poison  and  how  power  could  be  obtained  with  it.   miray  has  long  learned  that  giving  out  trust  was  a  waste  of  time  and  emotions.  and  that  there  were  other  ways  to  control  her  own  fate.  paranoia  has  long  consumed  her  ,  so  she  starts  selling  poison  to  garner  enough  money  to  leave  her  old  life  behind.  her  heart  has  long  been  forced  shut  by  betrayal.  at  least  that’s  what  she  thinks.   the  day  she  finds  out  about  her  betrothal  she’s  expecting  her  body  to  react  with  panic  or  perhaps  even  hatred.  she’d  have  preferred  that  over  the  faint  beating  of  her  heart  that  would  develop  over  time.  eroding  traces  of  mistrust  and  replacing  it  with  a  safety  she  could  never  find  within  her  own  home.   yet,  she  couldn’t  fully  abandon  her  plan  of  leaving  …  just  in  case,  they  didn’t  love  her  back.  just  in  case  she  needed  to  leave.   and  it  would  be  that  irresolution  and  the  very  act  of  selfishness  that  would  keep  her  in  the  cage  of  paranoia  that  she’d  built  around  herself.  passing  the  key  as  she  tells  herself,  it’d  be  the  last  time  that  she’d  do  this,  selling  the  liquid  of  death  ,  oblivious  that  it  was  meant  for  her  beloved  until  the  news  reaches  her  about  their  death.  not  caused  by  her  hands  but  made  by  them  and  her  greed.    and  with  the  silence  of  their  heart,  hers  stops  beating  ,  too.  and  she  returns  to  her  former  self  wondering  if  that  old  wish  of  running  away  would  make  her  happy  at  the  end. 

more

tba

[sccintilla]

stepping  out  of  her  chambers  in  a  desperate  need  of  fresh  air,  cecilia  seeked  for  the  comfort  of  the  night  sky  ,  unbroken  by  the  passage  of  time  and  untouched  by  the  change  of  space.   although  her  body  was  tired,   sleep  still  lingering  in  her  bones  as  she  was  stretching  her  limbs,   her  mind  was  restless,   wandering  endlessly  and  everywhere  except  onto  the  path  of  sleep.   for  a  second,   her  thoughts  seemed  to  have  fallen  off  her  heavy  head  and  it  was  only  the  softness  of  the  moonlight  and  the  whispers  of  the  breeze  which  occupied  it,  and  in  a  moment  of  complete  peace  which  wasn’t  even  granted  to  any  those  days,   a  small  smile  warmed  her  countenance.   perhaps,  that’s  why  she  barely  reacted  with  caution  when  a  voice  disrupted  the  stillness  of  a  perfect  night. 

�� “  we  must  have  shared  the  same  excitement  as  children  with  the  only  difference  being  that  i  never  struggled  to  fall  asleep.  perhaps  because  my  mother  was  always  present  .  ”  she  was  talking  about  the  days  before  she  became  a  princess.  a  time  where  even  eventful  days  were  less  important  than  mundane  ones  as  a  princess.  “  is  your  family  with  you  ?  i  mean  not  the  one  tied  to  you  solely  due  to  marriage  .  i’ve  heard  that  sometimes  familiarity  is  enough  to  offer  comfort.  ”

Who: open

Where: Fasil Ghebbi Gardens (the night before the Grand Breakfast)

Kekoa and his family had arrived late the night before. In the past Kekoa would have been the one settling arrangement, arriving ahead to scout locations, ensure safety, plan to maximize the impact of the royal family’s arrival. Now he was the one being shepparded around. A prized possession without all the information he needed.

An unwilling King.

He knew the day ahead would be chaotic. Events and mingling. Familiar and unfamiliar faces all melding together. He should be resetting in preparation. Instead it was 2am and he was wandering the grounds. The sound of footsteps behind him broke him out of his musings.

“I have always struggled to sleep in new places. As a child, I think I was just too excited for what lay ahead. Now, I suspect, it is more that my body yearns for home.”

[sccintilla]

there  was  a  certain  awkwardness  that  always  caused  miray’s  body  to  stiffen  and  her  tongue  to  be  cut  short  and  unable  to  grasp  for  words  when  it  came  to  talking  to  the  sultana.  in  fact,   there  were  many  other  awful  things  she’d  rather  do  ,  perhaps  assisting  another  reckoning  than  climbing  some  mountain  or  whatever  exhausting  activity  she  planned  to  do.  but  as  she  was  attempting  to  elegantly  practice  the  art  of  disappearing  by  squeezing  her  body  between  two  pillars,  it  was  already  too  late  and  it  appeared  that  her  presence  had  been  unwillingly  noticed.  “  i  would  love  to  explore  the  mountain  trails  with  you  and  smell  the  lovely  scent  of  ethiopian  clouds  .”  the  foolishness  of  her  own  words  remained  hidden  to  her  lack  of  imagination  on  what  to  do  on  a  mountain.  “  however,  i’ve  heard  rumors  of  ghosts  haunting  the  mountains  and  i  must  admit  i  am  quite  afraid  of  them.  perhaps  reading  a  book  about  the  mountains  could  offer  the  same  experience,  i  can  look  for  one.  ” 

open starter!!

setting -> main hall of fasil ghebbi, a couple of days after the welcome breakfast as everyone has settled in, late-morning on a clear, sunny day.

status -> accepting replies!

" seriously? have you seen the skies? " haspira's voice had risen in the hall with exasperation - gesturing grandly to the large, arched, open windows that displayed nothing but beautiful pale fluffy clouds against a baby blue backdrop. " going to rain... pah. " she scoffed then, arms crossing with indignation, as she glared down the guard in which she was captured within an argument. " perhaps i go myself then, and you can explain to the abduls why their beloved sister-in-law suffered a grave fate. " but the guard was unmoving in their resolve... and haspira sighed, turning in defeat before locking eyes with another. " i don't suppose that you would be interested in exploring one of the simien mountain trails today, would you? "

[sccintilla]

{ bruna marquezine , 29 , cis woman , she/her } we are so glad to see you safe ,  PRINCESS CECILIA DE ALCÂNTARA  of  BRAZIL ! it’s dangerous out in the world these days , but i hear that you are  RESOURCEFUL  and  PROTECTIVE  enough to handle it . just don’t let your  PARANOIA  bring you down ! stay on your guard , because with your secret being at risk for exposure , you wouldn’t want everyone to find out  THAT YOU HAVE A SECRET CHILD NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT. 

title : princess cecilia estrella de alecantara of brazil . nicknames: ceci , celia . dob : may 1st . orientation : bisexual / biromantic . languages : portuguese , english , french , italian .

traits : loyal , protective , resourceful , paranoid , hot-tempered , secretive , self-reliant, idealistic , aloof , tactless

biography

the  life  cecilia  grew  up  in  is  one  she’s  supposed  to  hold  onto  only  for  a  brief  moment.  a  moment  which  would  cease  with  the  passage  of  time  and  soon  as  only  a  memory.   cecilia  grows  up  with  starry  eyes  and  dreams  that  can  only  imagine  the  vastness  of  everything  beyond  her  mind.  her  parents  are  of  noble  birth  and  blessed  with  the  privilege  to  travel  the  world,  taking  little  cecilia  with  them.  most  of  her  memories  are  blue  like  the  ocean,  loose  braids  and  the  sea  breeze  always  snatching  strands  of  hair.  but  she  also  remembers  the  smell  of  new  cities  and  foreign  tongues  passing  her  like  melodies.   cecilia  doesn’t  know  what  she  wants  to  be  nor  does  she  know  that  noble  blood  is  supposed  to  dictate  the  course  of  her  life  as  her  parents  never  made  her  believe  she  had  to.  all  she  wishes  is  to  remain  by  their  side  and  maybe  then  she’ll  figure  out  what  a  future  is  meant  to  be.   it’s  spring  and  a  mournful  wail  echoes  over  the  sea,  whispers  of  comfort  are  lost  in  the  wind  as  her  mother  embraces  her  tightly.  she  isn’t  afraid,  after  all,  nothing  ever  happens  to  them  and  god  is  kind  to  good  people.  yet,  nature  doesn’t  look  at  something  below  them  and  as  waves  tear  her  from  her  mother,  even  screams  for  mercy  are  swallowed  by  the  water.  she  can’t  even  reach  out  to  them,  and  faces  of  fear  and  endless  love  will  forever  remain  etched  on  her  soul.    it’s  a  warm  day  and  spring  is  blossoming.  the  sun  is  shining  with  the  cruel  blindness  of  the  stars.  somehow  she’s  made  it  and  it  would  be  her  name  that  would  save  her  from  a  fate  reserved  for  children  like  her.  when  she’s  taken  in  by  the  brazilian  royalty  she  refuses  to  take  any  kindness  not  when  she  knows  that  the  world  is  never  gentle.  she  refuses  to  speak  as  if  every  word  shared  with  them  would  be  a  betrayal  to  her  family.    her  existence  feels  misplaced,  a  mistake  that  would  be  removed  soon.  cecilia  never  feels   at  home  even  when  she  never  had  a  real  one,  to  begin  with.  her  heart  is  sewn  shut  by  grief  and  even  as  she  grows  more  used  to  her  new  life,  she’s  still  searching  for  something  beyond.  it’s  on  her  travels  when  she  meets  someone  she  thinks  she  could  love,  a  belief  that  threatens  to  rip  her  heart  open  as  nothing  she  loves  is  meant  to  stay  in  her  life  anyway.   when  she  finds  out  she’s  pregnant,  she  doesn’t  say  a  word  and  she  never  would  as  she’d  never  speak  to  him  again.  and  when  she  returns  home,  she  doesn’t  return  with  a  child  but  empty  like  the  first  time.

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cecilia appears to act distant towards the members of her family as she doesn’t feel like she belongs. that does not mean that she doesn’t love them, she just doesn’t want to show it.

giving away her daughter wasn’t an easy decision. having her was the closest thing to having a real family but she thought that she’d have an easier life without her in her life. a part of her was afraid that she couldn’t love her enough and another part of her didn’t want to disappoint her family after taking her in.  

cecilia has no interest in the politics of her country as she doesn’t really feel like a true part of the royal family anyway. which might also make her quite vulnerable to being manipulated as she never really delved much into it.

her parents have taught her to wield a sword and over the course of time she's achieved a level of skill that makes her capable of defending herself. sometimes she trains with people in exchange for money which she secretly sends to the person who is taking care of her daughter. 

[sccintilla]

CATARINA DE LURTON Deus Salve o Rei (174)

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Se03 Ep11

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i’m a grown ass woman, alright? 

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“Perhaps she was glass. But glass is only brittle until it breaks. Then it’s sharp.”

— V.E. Schwab, Vengeful