#Memory Meme

[iicherrl]

photo dump of watercolor stuff i made over the summer :p the small ones are trading cards and, though i miss them greatly, have been traded

[sanguinesorcery]

⏳

Lessons of the Past || Always Accepting

I N S P I R A T I O N

Fariah regales the stories and memories of her mother quite often.

Sonyt was a driving force in her little life, always recalled with the fondness of a child always beloved. But it was not just her mother who was part of her young life. While Mama excelled in magick and taught her tiny pup the ways of the people through songs and stories, Dael was the attentive father.

Very grounded in his duties, as an Emperor and a warrior and a father besides. Where Mama was a wisp of whimsy, Papa was the foundation. But even then, Dael was capable of strange whimsies and flights of fancy. It was always these moments that Fariah remembers him most fondly, for although he instilled much of how to be the unbending and unbreaking Imperial Sidhe, the pinnacle of their civilization, his mischievous smile and deep warm laugh stays the longest.

Once a year near her birthday, they went sailing. Papa always visited one particular spot, an expanse of empty water far beyond the borders of Imperial Waters. Where the Summit Lighthouse was not even a spark on the horizon, where the shipping lanes did not disturb the mirror surface of the deep dark foreboding ocean. Out where The Leviathans lived, where no nation claimed dominance.

She was seven. She remembers because Mama had finally agreed to let him take their tiny pup with him to sail since she knew how to swim on her own. The excitement mounted to the agreed day to set out and she was so giddy she hardly slept when the day came. Sidhe were sailors at heart, born of water and would die in water. So the old adage went. Even without having sailed before, it was a natural state of being to her young self.

They started out in early morning, when the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Papa explained the rigging, the sails, the way the rudder worked. He navigated with the hand of an expert through the shipping lanes within the Three and Ten. Out into Imperial Waters, where the seafloor gave way to menacing depths in a drop so steep, one would think the archipelago was the edge of the world.

Out to the expanse.

It took almost six hours of constant moving to get to this special place and the sun was high in the sky when he finally pulled the brake sails into place and dropped the windcatcher. He said, as the boat coasted to a halt and bobbed on the unnaturally still water, that this was his favorite place. His father had shown him this place, and Fariah wondered about her grandfather.

She knew her grandmother had died long before she was born. The Empress before, the forty-fifth Ariad in the direct lineage. They said she had been a ruthlessly ferocious woman, having stained the white marble in the audience hall so badly with one of her massacres deemed 'lessons' that the tiles had to be scraped and replaced. Stains from it were still somewhere on the statue of Katya in the wall behind the dais. So it was said. It was Matena who used the Aeroglaive the most among the Modern lineage, to vicious effect.

But Fariah sort of remembered her grandfather. He married into the family as an Oracle, as per tradition. A calm quiet man compared to his devilish wife, but he loved her and their son both regardless of Matena's cruel nature. He had died only four years prior. She knew her grandfather. She knew his old wrinkled smile, his leathery warm hands, and the spark of joy in his tired eyes when his grandchild toddled in to say good morning in the archives. He passed peacefully in his sleep near the time of the Light Festival after she turned three and they sent him to be lead by Kaylaraja to the Other World.

She could easily picture her grandfather sailing, even if it was hard for her to picture her father being as young as she was then.

Dael told her he had a special kind of magick in this very special place, but it was most powerful when the sun went down. So they would have to wait to see it and turn for home in the early morning again. Of course, she was excited. Papa doing any sort of magick outside his skillset was rare, and it was special to boot! She could hardly wait to see it.

They fished for a time, they told stories. Sung songs to pass the day by and a little bit of paddling around the boat to make sure she knew how to handle swimming in the open oceans. It wasn't enough to keep her awake, and long about mid-afternoon, despite the giddiness of events to come, Fariah laid herself down for a nap in the sun.

To the gentle rock of otherwise unseen waves, the warmth of a clear sunny day. The smell of fresh brine and a low but cool sea breeze. She doesn't remember even now what she dreamed about. A caress from some otherworldly being, perhaps. Listening to its heartbeat in the thud of waves against the boat's hull beneath her ear. A whisper of Leviathans far far below, the dull siren's roar of things in the depths.

Papa woke her at around sunset. She remembers the way the orange vividly ringed around his head, how his eyes glowed reflective in the low light as he grinned down at her. The smell of cooking fish and warmed saag and rice they had brought as rations from home. It was almost time, he said. But first, dinner.

Fish caught and cleaned and cooked fresh was something she hadn't had before that moment. It paired with the mildness of the saag, lent its natural salinity to it. Almost sweet, a little strange. But not disliked, although she found her appetite healthy enough that she would have eaten it raw if it were necessary. Hunger is the best spice, after all. With dinner eaten, Papa presented the stars.

The sun was no longer seen, but there was a small line of color on the far horizon. It wasn't enough to dull out the expanse above. A wondrous sight, indeed. Here, the stars glowed so brilliantly and so numerously, they reflected in the water of the ocean below. A clouded arm of scattered stars in the millions and billions and trillions made a glimpse of the far away galaxies stretching above seem not so far, wrapped in a warped garbled version of itself in muted brilliance on the water. A few moments more and Papa spoke.

"See how beautiful our many worlds are, my pup. How numerous they are, how each prick of light above us is so far away, we will never see them up close in our lifetime.

"But I can bring the stars to you, so you may see them close."

She told him that was impossible. No one could just bring stars to people. You had to be a Seer to do that, or one of the rare metalsmiths of the Clouded Isle. The island there was a star. Therefore, it was sound logic only the Gods' Realm could produce one in the mortal realm so close to be seen.

Papa laughed. A great hearty laugh, one from deep in his belly. It echoed around the boat, around the expanse. She was sure even the stars heard him and twinkled in jovial response. He assured her that he knew a great many magicks, and this one was no different. See, how he produced the little stone from a small pile in the boat. See, how he held it up to the sky.

"You will become a star, and when you feel our mortal waters, you will bring your brethren!"

A magic spell, grand and musical as all magick in the Isles is tied to. And he held it out to to his tiny pup, who was watching with great eyes and smiles at this strange expression of magick she had never seen.

"Now. You let it free into the water and let it call its kin."

It felt like a normal stone. Warm and hard from the day's sun and Papa's hand. A normal weight, big enough to fit in her little palm but not so big to be too heavy. She was at the side of the boat in minutes, the plop of the stone in the water below greeted first with expectance! And then mild disappointment when nothing happened right away.

She pouted at her father for misleading her. He only laughed and told her to watch.

"Real magick takes time, you know this."

A reminder to be patient, even if she could only feel impatient toward promised events. She returned to the water, staring down where the stone hit and sunk. A few seconds more before the flash colored the deeper depths. Far below, a streak like lightning. Bright blue and brief at first, right where she expected the rock to have sunk further.

A precursor of what was to come, as within moments, the ocean began to light. Little pricks of fluorescent blue, bright and glowing, took over the water. The light drowned out the reflection of the stars above, replaced the galaxies and starry folds of sky with clouds and hazes of stars of their own. The reflection of low waves rippling against the sides of the boat, everything from surface to depths alight.

"I bring you stars!" Papa was laughing at the way her face looked, so awe-struck in the shimmering brilliance of what was once dark ocean expanse. "I brought your mother here too, you know. It is where I told her I loved her, more than our roles. More than our stations. And so too do I call the stars for our little pup. For I love you just as much and wish you to see the measure of that love, to the skies and the stars."

"Does Mama like the stars." she asked him, and he nodded his answer.

"Perhaps, one day, you may bring those you love here as well. Maybe your Emperor, maybe your pups. Bring them here and give them the stars."

A measure of love to many depths. Above and below. She doesn't forget the stars, even now.

She brings the lithograph of his smiling face with her once a year. They still go sailing together as they have for many years. Every year, she speaks the words to the stone, even if she knows what causes the phenomena now. Every year, she calls the stars.

Perhaps she will break a bit of tradition and Mama will join them this year. Perhaps she needs to see them again too.

Love without measure, the depths of the sky.

@gloryseized

[ribesrubrum]

✌ - a memory of a relative

Carmine isn't supposed to be hearing this conversation. She knows this; her grandfather had sent her and her brother out to get some stuff from Peachy's for dinner tonight while he talked to their mom, but Kiki, shy and uncertain, had asked her to go back and clarify something. But she's stopped in her tracks as she hears the conversation, and...

(cws below: talk of parental favoritism, and talk of abuse (verbal))

"Why can't I just take him with me? Why are you so insistent on stopping me?! I can take care of him, I can be a good mother--"

"After what you said to your daughter, do you truly think I believe that?" There's a quiet fury in Yukito's voice, barely restrained and deeply admonishing to his own daughter. And even so, one can't help but feel the undercurrent of disappointment. "...How could you grow to resent your own flesh and blood so deeply?"

There's a pause after that, and she swears she hears her mother sniffling. Crying like a child. Not unlike she has, for many nights. "You can't--you can't do this to me. You don't know. She's just like him, and I can't--I'll get the court if I have to, I--"

"No." Yukito's words are sad, but firm. "Hanako...I'm disappointed in you. You're unfit to mother a Sentret, let alone a child."

"Leave this place, now. And do not ever return."

Her grandfather's words carry a finality to them, one that finally sees her mother leave--they briefly catch eyes for a moment, and Carmine isn't sure if she should say something. If anything at all.

Her mother looks at her one last time, and Carmine isn't sure of it--she could've sworn her lips moved, though no sound came from them. I'm sorry. As if two simple words could mend a relationship like that.

She's gone before Carmine can respond, and her grandfather walks out after--though he startles upon seeing Carmine, eyes wide as he looks to her. "...Carmine, didn't I ask you to go to Peachy's?"

"I...we...Kiki and I got confused about something and...and...!" Carmine doesn't bother with the words she needs to say, though Yukito's eyes soften in sympathy--she practically barrels her grandfather down with a hug, and he wraps his arms around her, warm and kind.

"Th--thank you..." Carmine sobs out, tears falling freely and horribly. "Thank you for standing up for me, Grandpa..."

[arrowsnsarcasm]

🍵 Tim

leave " 🍵 + muses name " , and my muse will say the "honest truth" about what they think of the muse named.

Clever little dude who rivals my hacking skills. I’ve got a lot to learn from him I think.

[crossed-worlds]

📼 + Alphonse

Or...I guess early life cause robot

"Come on lil' bro! Focus!" Came the encouraging command from the black and yellow droid behind him. "You got this! Just let it happen!"

The two robots were just outside of the Warp Force HQ, nearby the other members of their respective teams were watching the brothers with their target practice. The battle droid's side of the field already had a decent sized crater, as for the medical one....well....

"Rrr!" Alphonse grunted at the feeling of the Overdrive channeling through his hand, he had a decent orb in his palm but—

There was a crack as the ball of energy burst and sent the medical unit across the field. Making everyone in the area wince from the impact and his brother ran over to make sure he was alright. Unlike most robots...the newly activated medical droid had pain sensors through out his body. There were times when the young robot wished he could cry....this was one of those times.

"Ouch..." Alphonse's eye lights were shut in a straight line from the dents now in his body. He wasnt meant to take on a lot of damage... He then glared up at the sky above him, cursing the Metal Sonic who made him without any defensive programing beyond the Overdrive sheild. "UGH! Why can't I just do it straight away?!"

"That's not how learning works, kid." He could hear the light laugh in his brother's voice. "You're only.....what? A year old? Fighting aint something you came equipped for."

Al huffed and sat up, rubbing his head where he was sure the pain had been chipped on him. "Why are we even doing this? I'm never gonna be capable of fighting! I'm not made for it! I don't even have armor like you do... I'm just a simple medical robot."

"Hey now, don't go talking like that!" Shard offered him a hand and helped the younger droid to his feet. "No little bro of mine is "a simple" robot, we all know this! You got the Overdrive so you've got the arsenal! Just a matter of figuring out how best to use it!"

"You got this Al!" Came the shout from Larry the Lynx over by the bench, getting patched up for what had to be the fifth time he'd come tumbling out of a tree.

"Uh...maybe don't cheer for him Larry with your jinx." Silver sighed as he shook his head at his teammate but couldn't wipe the smile off his face regardless. "The last thing the poor kid needs is another trip to the repair bay!"

"Come on! One more time!" Shard nudged his little brother with a grin, putting his arm around the younger droid in one armed hug. "You got this! Next time one of those wannabes tries messing with ya, I KNOW you'll put 'em in their place! Now come on! Show me what those claws can do!"

"Okay..." Alphonse couldn't help but smile a bit, it was nice to have all his friends believing in him like this.

=========================

Alphonse jolted awake, only to sigh and rub his eyes. Sitting up in his internal world. The space within his gemstone that was more or less like a copy of a ruined Angel Island. In here at least...he was organic. It was...just a memory. Maybe a dream. But... he wiped his eyes that had spiritual tears falling from them... The loss of his brother still hurt, it was easier these days. The pain never really went away though. He never forgot.

His brother was still the bravest man he ever knew.

[pri-rp]

Send "Heart Stopper" To see a scary memory.

Everyone was gathering today. This was an emergency meeting unlike any other, and yet, Peach had not a single idea. They should have met yesterday, the day before, sooner, btu this was the soonest that was possible... a representative of Star haven was finally going to make it. She hoped it would be Twink... She could use a friend in all of this.

Stars, she was a failure of a princess. all these weird powers and she was helpless to her citizens, her toads. the Blorbs was spreading fast, and not only were the subjects to this pandemic in such trouble, but it was causing damage to the architecture as the poor toads lost control of their own mobility in their swollen state. It was pure fortune no rubble from a broken wall had hit anyone, and that no building had collapsed in it's entirety as a Toad rolled out of control.

But the fear was still there. Peach looked at her reflection in the mirror; her eyes had bags, and her lack of sleep was showing. the swelling also told of her tears the night before... Everyone was counting on her to find a solution. They had to find a solution... Peach's eyes flutter as she blinks back more tears and a smile plasters on her face, fake and unbelievable.

They were counting on her, and she wasn't.... she couldn't let them down. Right? They've gotten through so much before, but none of it had ever hit so close to home before. Her denizens were so rarely directly impacted like this, and with each passing hour the potential for things to escalate, for someone to die, was pressing on her mind. So far they only know one symptom, and who knows how the Blorbs may escalate? Or when would a building collapse from the wrong wall being blown out by someone rolling away?

When would everyone realize she was failing them?

Another shaky breath. "They need a confident smile." A reminder, as she grabs her foundation and starts powdering her face. "Everyone is counting on you. They believe in you." That faith was helping moral, if nothing else. "They can't know how powerless you are. Not yet. You have to try." the foundation is thick upon her cheeks. the blush on top hides the eyebags.

A knock on the door, a familiar, beloved voice. "Breakfast is ready, Princess. We must eat before the meeting in a couple hours."

Toadsworth.

"I'll be right there." Peach's voice holds steady as she calls out. "Just finishing up my make up."

"Right right."

She hears him walking away, and Peach breaks. Stars, Toadsworth was so old by now, what if he got the blorbs? part of the fortune in all this was everyone was moderately young who'd contract it, but it was foolish to think a plague like this cared abotu age in any capacity. He already had issues, she was stocked on refreshrooms due to him.

Peach chokes back a sob at the thought, her heart pounding in her chest again. She needs to gather herself... So, she lets herself break now.

Her hands clasp infront of her, as Peach bows her head, warm wet drops dripping off her nose as her voice shakes. It's a whisper, so as to not be overheard, as Peach basically prays. "I know there are no stars out right now... but even if no other wish form me is heard... please. I wish for a cure. Implore you... bring with you a cure."

Peach holds like that for a moment, before a shaky breath, gabs her resolve, wipes off her face, and starts reapplying her make up. They'd figure something out today.

They were counting on them.

Peach couldn't bare to let everyone down now.

When she stepped out of her room, to breakfast, to the emergency Blorbs meeting, No one saw how scare the Princess was. She was a confident, strong figure, who was acting with all her typical grace and determination. The Mushroom Kingdom was in good hands, after all, Peach has never let them down yet.

Princess Peach would get the kingdom through this. everyone knew it. Her confidence just spoke that belief as an obvious fact.

No one sees her doubts,

[eartheats]

✍ - a memory of their mother

The memory feels faint. Like something that comes in broken, in pieces. Something that one tried so desperately to hide.

>Continue?

(cws: GEOSENGE TRAUMA TIME BABYYYYYYYYYYY)

"Dad...Dad, I'm scared. What the fuck is Mother trying to do?!"

For once in his life, Mateo doesn't chide his daughter on her awful mouth. One he's no doubt influenced, along with the miners of the town. One, he's sorely reminded, won't survive this. "I--I don't know, Gusanita, I don't. I really, really don't."

"...I believe you." Lauren hugs her father tightly, sniffling from the room they're both locked into. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"...I'm sorry too. I don't know what's gotten into her--"

the memory fades, blackens, before it re-emerges

"--leaving this place, now. That blasted man, he's useless, utterly useless--"

Her mother's tone sounds insane. Raving and ranting like a lunatic, and she's grabbing Lauren's arm to the point that it hurts, she's getting clawed into, it hurts, it--

"Mom, stop it! Why can't you explain anything?!"

"It doesn't matter, hush already, we need to leave!"

"NO! You dragged us out to who the fuck knows where, locked us in a fucking basement, I WANT A FUCKING EXPLANATION!"

"YOU WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY--"

the memory fades again

It comes back, and Lauren's still in her mother's face and shouting, but they're moving now. Or at least attempting it, but something starts to break and Noriko stops cold, just as rubble begins to come down behind them.

"No. No, nonono, he can't be doing this, he--"

"Mi amor, what's wrong? Why are you--?"

All three of them look up, seeing two massive creatures in the distance. Bright, shining horns. Deep, ebon wings. Powers that should not be, a light coming down from on high, it's--

Lulu's Poke Ball breaks open, and she feels him, her mother, and her father tackle her to the ground. Shielding her, protecting her, and everything hurts so badly and it's so bright, it's--

the memory fades once more

Lauren awakens back in her house, in her futon, and with a solid week in time she can't remember, because all of that must have been a bad dream. Her mother...she said something about traveling for her fourteenth birthday, but...

Why is it passed that, now?

...And why is her mother's face so fucked up and scarred?

[atangledfate]

💥 For Starline

That wet warm feeling against my face, i think that is what i remember the most. It was so warm, and inviting and it felt so right even though i knew it was very wrong. Years of being degraded, badgered, and looked down on for my Genius! I suppose it all boiled to the surface that night. I just wanted him to see the world as i did, to understand the world the way it was. I looked up to him, he was my mentor, my teacher, a professor without equal! How could he give me that grade... how could he shun me as mad! how dare he call me crazy!

As i stared down on my professors broken corpse, the text book lodged inside his skull. My hands covered in thick red liquid, dripping and joining the pool on the floor.

It was the first time i killed someone... not for science, or to prove some greater point! but out of anger, rage, furious rage! that he couldn't see my genius!

I'm still ashamed of how i acted... i wish i could erase that moment ... forget it ever happened...

" Ahk, ze things we do in our blind youth..."

[twilight-rose-pokemon]

♣ - a fading memory

*an elderly charizard lays in a pokemon center a young twilight crying into the pokemon's blankets it is her deathbed twilight is repeatedly muttering why not fully processing exactly what is happening the charizard gently growls and places her claw on top of Twilight's head then lays down again and she's gone*

[dragonofthestone]

lady-quen asked:

⏰ :)

The Chimera was a quick learner, keeping a slight distance between them and the tall, intimidating man but doing their best not to lag behind.

The gunman took care of most of the work while the Chimera only silently waited on any orders, or anything that could be perceived as an order.

It became familiar with certain habits and routines that fell in with their travel so much so that one morning upon waking before the other as occasionally happened instead of waiting on him to wake for food the Chimera took it upon themselves to get something for them.

Oh not because they wanted to of course but because it was sure to please the other to wake with food already available. Right? So long as they were quick enough to come back so as to avoid punishment for going off on their own.

Animal instinct already ran rapid through the Chimera's body telling them to chase and hunt down prey while watching Kaze had unknowingly (or knowingly) come to teach the Chimera what to do after catching it.

In the low light of morning their form shifted, a fire burning under their skin as their bones stretched and changed most unnaturally to something truly more bestial and better suited to hunt. To Kill.

By the time Kaze awoke the Chimera had returned to his side, tail wagging quite pleased at themselves. Looking down at the lump of dead animal left right next to the man to find feeling quite and proud of itself only hoping the other would be quite so pleased at their work as well.

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

Sounds fun

Memory Meme

Past experiences help shape who we are currently, how we see the world. Send in a symbol and I’ll write a drabble of one of my muse’s memories. 

–

❥ - a childhood memory

♣ - a fading memory

✂ - a vivid memory

✖ - a repressed memory

✈ - an eye-opening memory

✤ - a memory that involves romance/love

☤ - a memory of death/loss

✍ - a memory of their mother

☽ - a memory of their father

♘ - a memory of their sibling(s)

✌ - a memory of a relative

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

♚ - a memory of something paranormal

✓ - a sexual memory

♬ - a friend/best friend memory

[sanguinesorcery]

⏳ gimme baby princess hours, we need more baby princess fariah in this house

Lessons of the Past || Always Accepting

I N S P I R A T I O N

She sees this boy now.

Ildra tells her in only so many words that this is Markesh. Her nephew.

Kalla's son.

Markesh is barely seventeen now, having just recently been brought back from the Clouded Isle with his mother to the family estate on the Cultural Isle. He and his mother and his aunt will not be permitted in the Gods' Realm any longer, not without escort of Oracles or their Imperial nearby. The protection that kept them safe in that long decade is no longer active.

Once more acquainted with their family estate and the emptiness it now fosters, Ildra seeks to instate a new spymaster and Regent into the council ranks. And as has been for twelve generations now, House Tilvyar provides.

Fariah remains hesitant to allow a man back into her personal space. Not even Eyrol, the Navy Admiral who remained forever loyal and helped organize the rebellious distraction for Turyl's fall, is permitted into her inner sanctums, her private apartments. Why should she let another man in, no matter his age or his bloodline or his loyalties.

She searches the boy, his hopeful expression, his worried creases. She sees in his expression that he feels apprehensive in not only meeting with his Imperial for the first time but also her apprehension in allowing him near. Regents and spymasters both must be trained to their Imperial. It helps them know and read and advise as they should.

Ildra assures that Markesh is a perfect candidate. He is sly, he is empathetic, and he not only speaks many languages but can understand new ones in short time. All perfect traits for a Regent, and he is very well-connected to the hive. A nail in the coffin, a sour reminder of what happens when those in positions of power are not connected.

But Fariah is not only searching the seventeen-year-old's fresh face for clues to his personal nature. She is searching for things more familiar to her. The curves of his face, the twinkle in his dark eyes. The quirk of his smile.

"He is Kalla's son."

Kalla Tilvyar was Regent and Imperial spymaster to her father, Dael. A character in and of himself, one of a long line of Tilvyars who served faithfully their Imperial House. Mischief seemed to be the Tilvyar creed, and Kalla was no exception to the rule.

He was obscenely tall, even for a Sidhe. Six-foot-eight, and slender as a switch of willow. The sharp lines of his body always made her think of more of a cat than a wolf, as she had heard foreigners refer to Sidhe as 'wolfish', and Kalla played the feline part well.

She was young, very young, when she remembered meeting her father's spymaster. Old enough to remember, young enough to still be confused in the twisting halls of the Imperial Palace. A fortress, built with confusion in mind. She misread the puzzles in place along the corridors, hidden in minute carvings or in the borders of murals.

A mischievous pup herself, the Imperial Princess Apparent had wheedled her way away from her nursemaids while her mother was attending important meetings with her father. Whenever the Emperor and Empress were requested at the same time, it had to do with the well-being of the broader Empire. And now that there was a tiny pup to consider in the mess, maids had to be employed to keep their little Princess safe and occupied until her parents' return.

Of course, that meant understanding the Princess and her tricky little ways. It was astounding how fast she could move for a toddler, they found. And even more surprising, since she was clumsy and jingled wherever she went. She was sure that was how her shadow found her.

She always attributed Kalla to shadows. It fit for his role and his job. How someone so tall could simply disappear by melting away into the darkness of corners and of long shadows at noontime brought to mind someone who drooped or dripped into and out of existence.

It was how Kalla came into sight, she thought. For some reason, her memory saw him dripping like ichor out of a nearby dark corridor, his eyes glowing in low light and a cheshire's grin across his face.

"tadikatadika, I thought I heard a little faerie, but it is only you, Small Grace."

A voice like honey, sweet and viscous. Deep. Musical, as all Sidhe are.

"What does such a sparkling little trinket mean to do, so far from her nannies."

She explained in only the way a child without full control over their words she wanted her mother. She was lost, she was scared. In her tiny mind, the mind of a simple child yet, she knew her mother would fix it. Even now, she's never been sure Kalla knew exactly what she was trying to convey. But as it was his job, she likes to think he did.

He wasn't exactly what she wanted, but as it turned out he was exactly what she needed. Him and his cheshire's grin and the low honeyed laugh that flickered in and out of shadows as he took her by the hand and followed the glittering little Princess wherever she went. Although he did lead her to the kitchens, where her mother found her covered in powdered sugar and honey with a very irate head chef sputtering about 'how that asshole Tilvyar caused a ruckus' and left the child mere moments before, coated and sticky on his floor suckling on a honey roll.

She doesn't remember sleeping after that. An entire day without a nap was sure to make her mother question her choices in having a child. Her father went on to instate that Kalla was to watch his rambunctious pup from then on, much to Sonyt's chagrin. However, the spymaster was always able to keep her mostly out of trouble, so she began to refer to the dripping Kalla as 'uncle'.

The memory of him melting in and out of sight, save for his eyes and that sibilant grin, stays with her even now. A sight that even covered in his own blood at the end could not falter or shake.

Kalla's son.

Markesh is still waiting her approval. It's not so much the shape of his face or the build of his body anymore. Or his skillset or the promises of his loyalty. He is a Tilvyar, they have always been loyal to the Imperial House. Fariah stares into his eyes now.

They still spark in the dark depths. He is intelligent, he is clever. He is mischievous. He is Kalla's son. And in her tentative acceptance of him into her service, she sees his face split.

The same sibilant grin.

@dragmirc

[ribesrubrum]

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

It's a beautiful, starlit night. The grass feels cool against her skin, and it's strange, given that she knows she must have gone to sleep in her bed. Huh. Is she sleepwalking again?

Carmine isn't quite sure, but she feels a weight on her lap, and pauses for a moment before lifting her arm up--a Petilil stirs, red eyes peering up at Carmine quietly. It's not bolting from her, at least, and she feels herself smile quietly. The Petilil trills, curling back into Carmine as she gets more comfortable on the ground, petting the creature gently.

(The next day she awakes in her bed, her brother crying his head off in his room while her mother and father shoot insults at each other from across the house. Ugh. Maybe she should just go back to sleep...

...She ignores the grass stains in her pajamas.)

[arrowsnsarcasm]

https://www.tumblr.com/arrowsnsarcasm/781602791333543936?source=share

"Lian needs you"

My muse has lost their memory. What is one thing your muse could say that brings it back?

That would definitely do it.

[ahigherdestiny]

◥ A memory of someone they love: for Bonto?

(adultBonto)

(“Love? A strong word with so many different interpretations. Im familiar with some of them, though not all.

The first person that comes to my mind at this question is the one I first met. She gave me my little friend here. I called her NANA. She was my caretaker and very old. Every Shinjin kid has a personal caretaker before we enter our educational route. NANA was mine and was so nice and lovely. Whenever I was sad, she knew exactly how to cheer me up. Her smile is what I remember the most of her and associate the most with the word “family”

… I ran away a lot when I was little. At a certain age we Shinjin have to move away from our caretaker to a dorm of the school. I missed her so much and felt so lonely. The teachers didn’t like it and after a while even NANA got mad at me for coming back. One day she was so angry at me, I got terrified and cried. After that I stayed put in the dorm. I didn’t want to disappoint her more. It took me so long to ever visit her again. I think I was a teenager when I finally decided to pay a visit. But she wasn’t there anymore. NANA was gone.

I still have the books she wrote. Little journals about taking care of a Shinjin kid with a disability. And this little guy here…

After her I found new people to love. A different kind of love, of course. Deep friendship, like with MINA, MUSHU, HUSHEN or Sureme Kai ROH. Some of these friends became more over time, but … they helped me to realize that romantic love isn’t really what fits me. Or that I would miss it. And Im really grateful for my friends and their support in my life.

Because in the end, they also helped me to find more important love. The love for myself.”)