threeyesrp

[threeyesrp]

"I'm alright," she said, though the slight furrow of her brows betrayed the effort it took to steady her voice. "I just… don’t get to speak much. I’m more used to talking with my hands than, well, my voice."

Strained from disuse. Strained from bruises. Strained.

But healing.

She cleared her throat lightly, shifting the sapling in her grasp. "A nice warm something would help," she admitted, her voice softening, hesitant. "Do you lot trade in emeralds or goods around here?" She didn’t want to take anything for free, didn't want to be a burden on anyone, but she also hadn’t exactly come prepared for trade.

She almost opened her mouth to argue when he mentioned her being from far away, but then she caught sight of herself, layers of thick winter clothing in a place where the sun beat down like a second fire. She stuck out like a sore thumb, didn’t she? No wonder he could tell.

"Are you ok?" Asher asked. "You need to go to the medical ward? I think Miss Skyla can check you and see if you need any healing or potion." He looked concerned for the kid. "you hungry? I can ask Miss Skyla and Father Seren to make you something..You must be from your long journey here."

[threeyesrp]

Isolde watched the witch cook with wide, dilated eyes, resisting the urge to whine or paw at the air like an eager pup. It was a habit she’d picked up from living with something more beast than man, a subconscious mimicry she had to fight in polite company. Act normal, she reminded herself. No pawing.

"Prudence?" she echoed, the name rolling off her tongue with curiosity. It fit, in a way that made perfect sense when spoken by Heira. But then, familiar? Her eyes lit up, excitement bubbling in her chest. "Oh, wait! That means you are a witch, Auntie?" She practically vibrated in place, her hands gripping the edge of the table. How cool! How cool!

When Heira handed her the food, Isolde accepted it with quiet reverence. "Thank you," she murmured, voice soft, almost careful. She found a comfortable spot to sit, but instead of digging in right away, she simply sat with it for a moment, absorbing the warmth. The smell, the feeling of home. Good food. Good company. Words spoken aloud rather than only signed or scratched into dirt.

She clasped her hands together for a quick prayer, a quiet ritual of gratitude, before finally taking her first bite. Warmth bloomed in her chest, melting away something heavy she hadn’t realized she was carrying. For the first time in a long time, she let herself simply be.

Heira squinted slightly at the sight of the bruises. Yet she didn’t bring herself to ask. She had so many more questions that she kept asking herself. Curiosity was getting the best of her.

“ I take it you’re starving then?” She said with a smile, distracting herself from prying. “ I may just give you some extra rabbit.” She put a pot over a stone oven and began to stir the ingredients, mixing in some herbs and spices here and there. When she was asked if she lived alone, she gave a weak smile.

“For many years, yes. I do have my familiar: Prudence. She keeps me company”. She didn’t really have many friends nor family members around that she knew off - a parallel similar to her own: surviving by one’s own. There was definitely a lot of information to unpack from Heira but all in due time.

Heira grabbed the ladle and scooped up a hefty serving for Isolde. You might even notice she gave her more than herself. She added a slice of bread. A hearty meal to help defend them from the cold and hunger.

[threeyesrp]

Asher. Asher Thorneburne.

The name rolled around in her mind, settling on her tongue like an ember waiting to spark. That’s a really cool name! She stared up at him, wide-eyed with wonder, before breaking into a bright, beaming smile. Calm down, calm down, she reminded herself, easing her grip on the sapling to keep from accidentally jostling it in her excitement.

"It suits you," she chirped, her voice cracking slightly. She winced, rubbing at her throat. "Like ashes, like fire… Oh, but you’ve probably heard that a million times." Her enthusiasm softened into a sheepish grin, but it quickly faded when he asked her name.

Her stomach twisted. She still feared the idea of being found, dragged back home, or worse, handed over to her aunt. She’d made her choice, even if it wasn’t the best one, and she was sticking to it.

"Izzy," she blurted, latching onto the first fake name that popped into her head. It was close enough to her real one that she wouldn’t forget. "Izzy Eyes."

…Okay, now that just sounded ridiculous.

"I'm Asher, Asher Thornburn." he replied. "What is your name?" he asked her.

[threeyesrp]

Ah, yes… her guardians. That would be an interesting conversation. One she wasn’t eager to have. After all, her current guardian was a massive, writhing mass of limbs and bones, a creature as kind as it was utterly ruthless. She figured it was best to delay that revelation for as long as possible. No need to give anyone nightmares just yet.

Wait. Did that mean she wasn’t getting her knife back for a while? Noooo!

As they stepped into the kitchen, Isolde blinked, momentarily distracted from her loss. The space was warm, familiar in a way that settled something deep in her little bones. Homey. She liked it.

“I fancy all foods, Auntie,” she chirped, trailing after Heira like a tiny, determined shadow. Hopping onto a stool, she quickly shrugged off her thick winter coat, tying the sleeves around her waist to keep them from getting in the way. With careful precision, she set to chopping vegetables, not the fastest, but methodical, with a clear understanding of the technique.

“Do you live here alone?” she asked after a moment, pausing to rub at her throat, unaccustomed to speaking this much, it left a scratching feeling along her throat. Now, with her coat removed, the faint marks around her neck were visible, at first glance, they might be mistaken for smudges of dirt, but to a knowing eye, they told a different story. Fading bruises, the ghosts of hands that had once pressed too tightly with fingers all too long.

“ I think I may keep a hold on it, until we find your guardians..” she was stern but not enough to be scolding.

She lead her to a cozy spruce kitchen, a Mintin window displaying the tundra landscape. The blue contrast of the window was welcome by the warm glow of the lanterns.

“If you don’t fancy rabbit there’s always beetroot or mushrooms.” Heira got some ingredients out of the basket and brought a stool on the table. She placed a knife on the chopping board along with some carrots.

“Just be careful.” She began preparing the bowls and worked on the mushrooms and meat. There were all different herbs and spices draped on the walls along with an alcohol cabinet. There was also a cauldron which appeared to not have anything inside for the time being. The smell of all the herbs and alcohol filled your nostrils: it felt like a typical kitchen but with a witch’s twist of course. Heira began to chop up the ingredients and mixing them. It seemed she was a skilled cook. She kept a close eye on Isolde to make sure she wouldn’t hurt herself. It felt nice to have another presence in the kitchen helping her - she was starting to become fond of the little girl and this heightened their bonding.

[threeyesrp]

Isolde’s pout faded as she stepped further into the witch’s domain, her wide eyes tracing the frozen elegance of the place—ice and stone woven together in a way that was undeniably grand, larger than anything she had ever set foot in before.

For someone like her, who had always lived in the tight quarters of a single-room home, this should have been awe-inspiring. But something about it felt wrong.

Not in a literal sense, though there was a chill in the air, but something cold. A kind of hollowness. No mess. No clutter from half-finished projects, no plants stretching toward what little sunlight managed to reach through the windows. It was elegant, yes, but where was the home in it?

Something in Isolde stirred, a mischievous thought whispering to her. She should start sneaking little things in. Nothing big, nothing obvious, just small pieces of warmth. A pet rock by the door, for protection, maybe even out of superstition. Every home needed a pet rock.

“Your home is so large,” she marveled, her fingers lightly trailing over the spines of books on a nearby shelf, eyes flitting over any visible titles before glancing back at Heira.

“I like stew! It’s always so warm and filling,” she said with an easy grin, dimples deepening as her voice took on a slight, excited chirp. Then, just as quickly, “Do you need help? I can cut up veggies.”

Give knife.

Heira watched as Isolde pouted, their footsteps crunching in the white sheet of snow. It would give her peace of mind in case the worst possible scenario happened. The walk was an awkward one and Heira made sure to stay close to the child, as if she was trying to shield her from the unknown dangers.

The two walked through the alpine, until they finally stopped at the mountain. The only difference was that there was a straight bridge made of ice and lanterns illuminating to a giant double spruce door, coated with frost. Pillars made of ice and even a giant frozen waterfall were in sight. The exterior looked like a house but made of ice. Heira ushered Isolde inside and the interior was a combination of ice and stone. It seemed she had made a cave into her home. The two stood in a grande hall. Staircases and black stones walls complimented the blue contrast of the ice. It almost looked like a fortress/palace: It was elegant and decorated with many book shelves and other decorations you could expect from a witch. There were many other rooms which would look fun to explore.

“ Hungry? Perhaps I can put on some rabbit stew?” Heira questioned, as she took a couple of steps and turned to let the child get familiar with her new surroundings.

[threeyesrp]

"I'll eat whats placed in front of me" Isolde’s sweet little smile was the picture of innocence, but beneath it was the hardened truth of a child who had long since learned that hunger left no room for pickiness. Food was food, and if it kept her going, she would eat it without hesitation.

As she spoke, her small fingers found Hera’s hand, grasping onto it with the quiet trust of a child who understood that warmth was precious. Her other hand busied itself, pulling out little trinkets and supplies she had carefully tucked away, each item a source of pride. She even tapped her chin a few times in sign, emphasizing her words in her own way.

Then Hera mentioned finding her Popop.

A flicker of something crossed Isolde’s face, so quick, so subtle, it might have been missed if one weren’t paying close attention. A wince. A moment of hesitation. Thoughts scrambled and clicked into place like puzzle pieces, crafting a lie she hoped was convincing.

"It's okay, I know my way back."

She smiled, sweet as honey, but tight at the edges, lips pressing together just a little too firmly.

Before she could dwell on it, something else was taken from her.

Her knife.

A sharp breath hitched in her throat as her fingers twitched, grasping at nothing. She had been raised to survive. To hunt, to forage, to fight if she had to. She had never been coddled, never been told she was too small, never had anything taken from her unless it was absolutely necessary. She may have been a child, but she had been raised in a world that demanded strength.

And now her knife was gone.

"H-Hey!" Her voice cracked, rough from disuse and sudden emotion. "I'm not a child!" she insisted, her little face scrunching up in frustration. "I know how to use a knife!" She pouted, crossing her arms with a dramatic huff.

She wouldn’t argue further. But she would keep her second knife hidden. That one wasn’t for show, it was hers, tucked away for emergencies. It was her secret knife now.

And so, Hera found herself accompanied by one thoroughly pouty eight-year-old, still following along, still listening, but grumbling under her breath about being a big girl while occasionally shooting the occasional side-eye at the knife thief.

She watched with a deadpan expression. She admired the determination but she was the one who was most likely a couple centuries older. Heira listened to the girl ramble on as if she was trying to impress her - you might have even swore you saw her mouth twitch into a curve.

“ It’s not safe.. I already have some food at home that I can prepare. Must be something you like?”

Like after trying to wait for a shook fizzy drink to calm down, Heira held out her hand and waited for the little girl to take it.

“ I can get you to safety for tonight and perhaps tomorrow we can find this ‘Popop’?”

She felt slightly relieved to hear that the girl had family. Perhaps she did wonder off and got lost after all. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let the little girl become supper. She needed to get to safety. Heira reminded vigilant and darted her head up, scanning the area for anything that may have been approaching. She wasn’t in the mood to fight right now. She watched as Isolde fiddled with the tin, trying to show it off. She cocked a brow. She watched as Isolde displayed her nick nacks.

“ What have you got there? Some twine and tha- oh and dried kindling too that’s nice. And a pocket knife?! “

She immediately snatched it off a millisecond she took it out.

“Ta! Before you accidentally prick yourself”

Heira inspected the item. She knew knifes were a dire part of survival but she couldn’t fathom the fact a little girl wielding one.

“ They’re giving children pocket knifes these days? Unless you nicked it, little one? I’ll keep hold of this for now.. I don’t want any “boo boos” or “ouchies”…” she stated, as she put the knife safely in her inventory. It seemed that sparked a mother hen instinct within her.

[threeyesrp]

For once, Isolde found herself speechless. A rare event, truly. She had thought she rambled too much, but here was someone who could rival her. Her little mouth was slightly open as she listened, taking in the great deal of his life that he spilled like water over smooth stones. Did he just… need someone to listen?

A spark of determination flared in her chest. Therapist mode: activated. Time to get on her big girl britches! She could do this! She could be useful!

As Asher spoke, she filed away little details, cataloging them carefully in her mind. Like how he was older than she first thought, then again, to an eight-year-old, everyone over twenty was ancient.

She fidgeted, the weight of her coat dragging at her shoulders, and with a decisive tug, she shed the heavy layer. The sleeves were wrapped around her waist as she fanned herself lightly. It felt like a hot spring day here. How nice.

Then she stopped, her gaze locking onto the golem. A soft smile pulled at her lips as she took in the way plants had crept across its body, curling around the stone like nature itself had claimed it as its own. Something about the sight soothed her, made something in her chest feel warm and calm, like the steady hush of a river. Beautiful.

Her fingers stretched out gingerly as she accepted the sapling, cradling it carefully.

"Thank you," she spoke, her voice quiet with respect, treating the golem as she would any living being. She even gave a small bow of her head, reverent and sincere.

What a beautiful golem. What a beautiful place.

And so far, beautiful people.

The harmony of this town wrapped around her like a blanket, felt rather than seen. Then, turning to Asher, her expression softened further. "I'm sorry to hear that you've been through so much," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Momma always told me that fate is funny, and sometimes unkind. That the threads that coil around us are numerous, but most of them are good."

She glanced down at the sapling, thumb brushing over its delicate leaves with care. She was a child forced to grow up too fast, repeating wisdom she had yet to fully understand, but she wanted to help.

"I'm sure the black threads have burned away," she murmured, "leaving the others free." Surely, this man had endured enough bad for one lifetime. Her head popped up suddenly, as if realizing something. "Oh… I just realized. I didn’t get your name?"

"Absolutely, I'm not entirely sure how it all unfolded, but I can tell you that the Illagers arrived in this village for various reasons. Some fled from abusive tribes and bear injuries that led their former communities to deem them "useless." Others are reformed Pillagers, and there are even Evokers who escaped from destroyed mansions, bringing along any surviving Vindicators. Then there are those who simply seek a more peaceful existence and a chance to start anew." Asher shared. "Contrary to popular belief, my kind aren't merely ruthless raiders. Many of us desire to live fulfilling lives and find happiness in what we have. This village offers hope and a new beginning for everyone." They both observed the scene around them, witnessing Illagers and Villagers collaborating in their various trades—some tending to fields, others forging metal, and some sharing knowledge in the library. "I came to this village with Yumi when I was 16 because Yumi's old home village called Squid Coast wasn't so Illager-Friendly towards me...the leader of that village even had Illager Hunters kidnap me and take me away, Yumi and some of her hero friends helped rescue me from them and after some thinking, Yumi decided it would be best for me and her if we took residence here instead of staying in Squid Coast." a Iron Golem walked up to Isolde and held out a cherry blossom sapling to her instead of it's usual poppy flower.

[threeyesrp]

Isolde blinked once, twice, then her whole face lit up like a lantern. A bright beam of a smile, dimples cutting deep into her cheeks as she practically bounced after Asher, as if the question had never even left her lips. It was gone. Left at the gates, never to be spoken of again.

"Okay, okay, so!" She quickly fell into step beside him, hands fluttering excitedly as she spoke only to quickly try and grab at the petals she was dropping. "This town has both Illagers and Villagers? How did that happen? 'Cause I was always told that, by one person, Illagers are, um… mean beans. Really mean beans. But then!" She gasped, throwing her hands up. Oh… There went all the petals. Ah well, she'd collect more on her way back to The Gate. "I saw an Illager once, and he was more like a little kitten! But, I say, hey! You can’t judge a book by its fuzzy little cover! That’s rude! And my momma says it’s rude, too. Anyways—"

She was off. A full-speed ramble, words tumbling over each other without pause,until, inevitably, she ran out of breath. She sucked in air, finally, cheeks puffing slightly as she caught herself, then looked up.

Her nose scrunched.

Gosh and golly, it was hot here.

Or at least… a lot hotter than the bitter cold she was used to. The weight of her thick winter outfit was suddenly unbearable, dragging at her little limbs, slowing her already-small footsteps. Ugh. She tugged at her furred neckline half-heartedly, but even that didn’t help much.

How did people live in this kind of heat?

"Um, no?? Only Villagers and Illagers live here, I'm afraid, there isn't anyone named that here for as long as I can remember.." Asher said wondering who this girl was talking about. "Nobody here has that surname neither.." Asher was extremely confused.

[threeyesrp]

"We definitely don’t!" Isolde chirped back, a little too enthusiastically, as she wriggled around like a stranded pillbug.

She knew well enough how troublesome those creatures were. They only crept near her town in the spring, kept at bay by the deep snows of winter that kept them locked up, but even then, they were more trouble than they were worth. Another hazard of the frozen lands. Another thing to keep an eye on.

She squirmed, struggling to scoop up the scattered petals in her lap while simultaneously trying to get to her feet without using her hands. It was a ridiculous sight, wiggling, shifting, almost falling, until, at last, she popped up onto her feet like a spring-loaded toy.

And immediately dashed after Asher.

"Wait up! Wait up!" she chirped, quick on his heels, only to skid to a sudden stop at the very edge of town.

Her excitement faltered, something uncertain creeping into her posture. Her gaze flickered through the village, scanning for flashes of red. Not his red, no, a different kind. A red that burned like fire and bit like ice.

"Um… question!" she blurted, rocking onto the balls of her feet as she scuffed at the dirt with her boot. "Is there any, liiiiike…" A pause. A hesitation. Her hands twitched as if wanting to sign the words instead, but she pushed through. "Like, really tall ladies in there? With wild red hair? And, um… mean?"

She batted her eyelashes, trying to make the question sound casual. Innocent.

"May or may not be named, uh… Ms. Hill?" she added, peeking up at him through her lashes.

Of course, her aunt wouldn’t be here.

…But safety first.

"She’d be like… Tall. And red. And mean?" she pressed, voice dropping slightly like she half expected the woman to materialize behind her at the mere mention of her name.

Asher replied, "Well, yeah, I set them up every day. I'm the only one who can create these barriers." He continued, "And they’re effective; if a Zombie or Skeleton tries to enter the village, the barrier will push them back. We definitely don’t want the residents turning into Zombie Villagers or Illagers." He extinguished the candles and collected them as he began to walk toward the village gate. "Are you coming with me, or are you leaving?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder. "This village is safe and welcoming, so there’s really nothing to worry about."

[threeyesrp]

Oh. Maybe she couldn’t do eye contact here. Or maybe, now that she was allowed, she had stared too much. Had pressed too hard, let her curiosity burn too brightly.

Either way, she saw it. The discomfort in his face. The way his eyes flickered, searching for an escape. It was subtle, but she’d spent enough time with Three Eyes to pick up on these things. She had to. When your guardian didn’t speak with words, you learned quickly how to read the way a person moved. The weight of their gaze. The way their fingers twitched or their shoulders curled in.

So, she sighed, soft and small, before inching back to give him more space, lowering her eyes from his face to his hands. There. That should be better.

His words took a moment to properly sink into her little head, tumbling around before finally settling. Protective barriers? Huh. Her gaze flitted to the candles, lips pressing into a tight, pursed line as she studied them.

She had never heard of such a thing before. But then again, she knew her world was small. Sheltered. Even before she had left her old village. There was so much she didn’t know.

"And you do this every day?" she asked, motioning toward the circle of candles, her curiosity shifting gears. "And does it, like, really work?"

Her old village had its own superstitions. Its own ways to keep bad things away. Thin strips of iron lining doors and windows to keep spirits from crossing. Empty buckets were bad luck. Never whistle at night unless you wanted to attract ghosts.

This felt… similar. But different.

And she wanted to know.

Asher felt a wave of discomfort wash over him as the girl continued to stare. He quickly averted her gaze, scanning the area for an escape route, but found none. When she suddenly pointed at him and inquired if he was an Illager, he raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. Had she really never encountered a real Illager before? "Um… yeah, I'm an Illager..well..half Illager... I live in this village with my guardian, a Villager named Yumi," Asher replied. "I'm one of the protectors of the village, and I was just maintaining the protection barrier against hostile mobs like Zombies and such," he added, trying to clarify his role.

[threeyesrp]

The moment his voice broke the stillness, Isolde’s eyes popped open, pupils blown wide like a startled kitten barely holding back a pounce. She wriggled in place, her body alight with that telltale energy of someone ready to spring.

Her gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, she simply stared. Green into red. Grass into ember. Life into something that burned.

Eye contact always made her stomach twist, made her muscles tighten, ready for the inevitable sharpness that came after. But this time? This time, there was none of that. Her neck still ached, a dull, lingering reminder of before, but right now, she felt… fine. Fine enough to sit there, motionless save for the occasional flick of her fingers, letting herself just look at him.

With a quick shake of her head, mentally unclogging whatever mess had tangled itself up in her thoughts, she raised her hands, letting the petals spill from her fingers like silk drifting on the wind.

"I'm okay," she whispered, voice cracking slightly from disuse. But her hands followed, signing the words with ease, reinforcing them.

She wasn’t in need of shelter. She wasn’t lost. Not really. And even if she was, she wasn’t about to admit it to a stranger, no matter how fascinating his fire-red hair and ashen skin were. She still didn’t know where she was, or who might be lurking within this village. For all she knew, this place belonged to her aunt. It didn't of course, but she had no way of knowing that.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she quickly shoved the thought away.

"Ignore," she whispered, waving off any lingering concern as she scrambled to switch topics, because there was something much more interesting at play here. "What were you doing? Wait… Illagers? Are they here?"

Her head snapped around, scanning the trees, the candle-lit space, searching for signs of them. The last time she saw an Illager, it had been a child. Fuzzy. Small. Not like the first one she had met, the one with no fur, but that one was a fake.

Wait.

Her gaze flicked back to him, sudden and sharp, her thoughts slotting together faster than her mouth could catch up.

Grey.

Wait.

"Illager?" she asked, pointing at him directly, head tilting ever so slightly, curiosity burning bright.

Asher only became aware of the other individual when he finally opened his eyes after finishing the protective spells for Crystal Waters. He glanced at the girl, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "Uh… hi there? Are you a traveler in need of a place to stay?" he inquired. "The Village here will be able to take you in, don't worry, the Illagers who live here are friendly, they live together with the Villagers."

[threeyesrp]

Isolde’s gaze skittered toward the thick treeline the moment she heard the howl, a prickle of awareness creeping up her spine. It was only then that she truly felt how alive this part of the woods was, so different from the eerie stillness of Three Eyes’ domain, where nearly every living creature had long since been chased away. There, silence reigned, broken only by the rustling of plants and the occasional nosy bird that had yet to learn fear.

Oh, she thought suddenly, I still need to talk to him about the birds. The idea of a bird feeder outside their cave had been circling in her mind for weeks now. It was practically a crime, in her opinion, to have a home with so many trees and no birds. She’d get her way eventually, Three Eyes could only grumble for so long before caving.

"I can survive," she huffed, dragging herself back to the present with a determined pout. Her cheeks, already rosy from the cold, puffed out slightly as she stood her ground. But the moment passed quickly, her excitement bubbling up as she processed where they were going. The witch’s cabin! Yipee!

"I can help! I can help!" she chirped, practically vibrating as the witch rubbed warmth back into her arms. It was a simple, absentminded gesture, but it struck something deep inside her, a feeling both familiar and safe. It reminded her of her mother. Of the way she soothed Isolde when she came in from the cold. Of the way Isolde, in turn, did the same for her baby sister. This feels like home, she realized, sighing contentedly into the touch.

"I'm real good at finding food! I'm a survivalist! Popop says so," she added, practically glowing with pride.

She giggled again, already itching to show off. Her fingers twitched toward the inside of her coat, where she kept all her little survival tools. The tin of coal she had made herself. The small knife tucked away in a hidden pocket. The flint, the twine, the tiny bundle of dried kindling, everything her parents had drilled into her. Everything she'd made herself. She was prepared. She was capable.

And, most of all, she was useful.

She resisted the urge to dump all her treasures onto the snow right then and there. But only barely.

She watched in bewilderment.

“Lost? Why no. I live here.”

Heira then scanned the area to see if there was anyone nearby: a parent, a career or albeit unknown to her a cryptic. She watched as the skies started to blacken and wolves began to hunt for their next meal. Heira stood in thought for a moment, as the child clung to her, teeth chattering. She was probably hungry and tired; she could see Isolde trying to brush off her needs to remain confident.

“The only thing I’d be looking for is your parents. You’re an awful way deep in the forest…”

A wolves howl broke out, making the girl jump slightly. Heira sighs.

“ I’ll tell you what. You’re not going to survive another minute out here by yourself. My place is nearby. Perhaps you should come back with me for the night and I can fetch you something to eat?”

Was it truly fate? Heira was certain she was far away enough from civilisation not to be pestered. It was strange - a little girl was by her side now. Even though it may have been a futile attempt, despite Heira’s skin and body temperature being ice cold, she subconsciously rubs the child’s arms, trying to at least warm her slightly from the friction. What could have truly brought them together?

But Heira knew a new chapter in her life was about to begin.

[threeyesrp]

"I never get lost!" Isolde declared, her voice bursting with a confidence so absolute, so unshakable, that for a moment even she believed it. Her little chin lifted, her pride as solid as the ice beneath her boots. Of course this had all been planned. She was following the birds, following the stars, no, following fate itself. That invisible thread that wove through lives, ever tangled, ever tightening, around her neck like a leash, always leading her to something. To someone. To cryptids and stories wrapped in the cold embrace of the icy domain.

"And it's okay, Auntie! I'm like, really good at hiding! Like a rabbit in the snow!" She giggled, pressing in closer, ignoring the way the cold gnawed at her fingertips, how her gloves did little to stop the shivering that rattled through her small frame. Still, she burrowed deeper, her trembling fingers clinging to the fabric of the witch’s dress, as if anchoring herself there could keep the frost at bay.

Her breath came out in soft, quick puffs, but she barely noticed. Her focus had already shifted, eyes wide and gleaming with the kind of determination that burned brighter than common sense.

"Are you looking for anything, Auntie?" she asked, tilting her head up, voice eager and earnest. "You're out here too. Do you need help?"

There was something raw in the question, something deeper than mere curiosity. A need, a quiet, unspoken plea wrapped in the guise of innocent inquiry. She wanted to help. No, she needed to.

Somewhere, deep in her chest, a knot tightened, an unnamed pressure pushing against her ribs. She didn’t understand why, couldn’t quite grasp the shape of it, but she knew this much: she had to prove herself. Had to show that she was capable, that she belonged. That she wasn’t just some small, shivering burden in the snow.

Especially to Auntie.

Heira ventured through the dangerous tundra, what was soon to be invested with Stray skeletons. She needed to clear her head, she had been cooped up inside all day. Something that probably wasn’t wine for a change.

That’s when something felt off. The atmosphere felt almost… innocent. Heira could sense a younger presence nearby; That’s when she spotted the little girl. Curious, Heira froze and watched the child, hoping that she hadn’t spot her, in case she frightened the young girl. Was she lost? She could make out that the child was relying on the bird as a life line: a sense of comfort. What on earth was that child doing out here on her own?

Heira impulsively took a step back, to try and mask herself in the snow’s contrast and shadows. However, when the girl’s head spun around at the movement, she knew it was too late. The girl had spotted her.

She expected the girl to gawk at her in a manner of curiosity or perhaps even more fear. Hang on a second. Is she approaching?

Heira watched as the little girl stumbled through the snow and eventually clung onto her dress as a new support. Looks like she had a child to deal with now.

𝐈𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞: Auntie! What are you doing out here?

Is she serious?

𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚: Auntie? I think you’re sorely mistaken, little one.

She watched as the girl shivered and exhaled a cloud. Of course, Heira would not make a better heat source, since her skin was always cold as ice. She held her arms slightly up in exclamation, as the girl clung to her.

𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚: What are you doing out here by yourself? Did you get lost? It’s not safe to be out here at this time… especially someone as young as you…

No doubt her strays would see her as a threat.

Looks like she has company for a change.

[threeyesrp]

By the time Isolde finally noticed the village, her arms were cradling a small collection of delicate pink petals, carefully gathered from the forest floor. A small frown tugged at her lips, she should have brought a basket. The thought of stuffing them into her pockets made her hesitate. They’d wilt too quickly, crushed by the fabric and the warmth of her hands. But she wanted to keep them. No, more than that, she wanted to bring them home, to show them to Three Eyes.

For a moment, she remained still, observing the village from a safe distance. The sight of it brought a quiet relief. No matter where she had ended up, there were people here, life, civilization. That meant she could mark it for later. Next time, she’d bring a map, count her steps, track the route through The Gate properly. She was confident she had a grasp on how it worked now. Well, mostly.

Still, she wasn’t eager to be seen just yet. Instead, she decided to practice the fine art of being a cryptid, just like her Guardian. If Three Eyes could skulk around unnoticed, like some eerie legend whispered around campfires, then surely she could too. She nestled herself deeper into the tree line, trying to blend in with the shadows, the petals in her arms rustling faintly.

In her mind, she was a spectral presence, something half-there, watching with unsettling, otherworldly patience, like an old ghost child forever lingering at the edge of perception. So creepy, she thought to herself with satisfaction.

In reality, she was just a small girl standing very obviously behind a tree in clothes that didn't match the biome, peeking out every few seconds like an overeager rabbit, her arms full of stolen flower petals. Not eerie. Not haunting. Not even remotely subtle.

Just as Isolde was about to pull away, retreating back through the trees with her little armful of petals, something caught her eye, something strange.

A figure.

Red hair, brighter and deeper than her own, almost like embers caught in a gust of wind. But their skin… grey like cooled ash. The contrast was startling, unnatural in a way that made her tiny heart quicken, not in fear, but in sheer unfiltered curiosity.

Her thoughts of being a cryptid melted away as instinct took over, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She wriggled closer, each step careful, slow, almost silent. Her head tilted to the side, then the other, watching with the same innocent intensity of a pup seeing something unfamiliar for the first time. What are you? the tilt of her chin seemed to ask, her curiosity so plain it might as well have been shouted.

She drew closer, close enough now to study the finer details. Scars. Yes, scars ran across one of his eyes, thin and pale against his ashen skin. Her gaze drifted downward. Candles flickered around him, their flames swaying with the breath of the forest. The sight made her pause, an instinctive hesitation pulling her back half a step. She didn’t want to cross some unseen threshold, didn’t want to disrupt whatever this was.

But something about it nagged at her. A whisper at the edges of her mind. Familiar. Like a half-remembered dream, a forgotten memory just beyond reach. It itched inside her skull, pressing at her thoughts, but refused to take shape.

Slowly, cautiously, she sank down to the forest floor, settling just beyond his reach. She watched him, then, with an unblinking sort of patience, before exhaling softly and shifting. Carefully, she adjusted her posture, mimicking his, though with her lap full of pink petals.

She shut her eyes.

And she listened.

To the wind threading through the trees. To the hush of her own breathing. To the distant hum of the village she had momentarily forgotten. And, most of all, to the quiet space between herself and this stranger, where the odd, almost comforting feeling inside her chest stirred and stretched, waiting to be understood.

One step, two

The transition through The Gate was like stepping between worlds, a breathless shift from frozen desolation to a realm that felt like a dream. One moment, Isolde stood amidst the unforgiving tundra, the icy air biting her cheeks and numbing her fingers. The next, she was surrounded by the delicate hum of life. The air was warmer, heavy with the fragrance of cherry blossoms, and sunlight filtered through their pink blooms in soft, dappled patterns.

Her eyes instinctively lifted to the sky, seeking some anchor in this disorienting new world. The sun hung in a similar position to where it had been in her homeland, still crawling its way up from the horizon. She guessed she was only a few time zones away, but the unfamiliar landscape left her feeling untethered. She couldn’t say for certain where she was.

The trees here were unlike anything she had ever seen. At first glance, she thought their vibrant pink leaves were impossible, but as she squinted closer, she realized they weren’t leaves at all. Flowers? She blinked, awestruck. It felt as if she’d stepped into a painting, the kind her books back home tried and failed to describe.

Curiosity bubbled up in her, irrepressible as always, urging her to explore. She turned from The Gate, her feet crunching against the gravel path as the structure behind her began to dissolve. The stones floated gently back to the ground, settling into an unremarkable pile that betrayed nothing of the magic they held. A passerby might dismiss it as just a scatter of weathered rocks, but she knew better.

'How pretty,' Isolde signed to herself, her small hands forming the words as her thoughts whispered in tandem. The silence of her gesture was a comforting echo of home, grounding her as she ventured closer to the trees. The blossoms dangled just out of reach, swaying teasingly with the breeze. She stretched her arms, hopped once, twice, and then again, but the petals remained elusive. Her wide eyes flickered with determination, and she darted to another tree, then another, chasing the soft pink clusters as though they might slip away if she hesitated.

The world around her grew brighter with her playful hops and skips. Her movements were quick and full of energy, like a little rabbit darting through the trees, unaware of the distance she was putting between herself and The Gate. With each jump, she drifted closer to something she couldn’t yet see. Far ahead, just beyond the veil of cherry blossoms, lay a settlement nestled in the warm embrace of this strange, vibrant land.

Starter for @ask-tdw-0666

[threeyesrp]

"Peep-loo, peep-loo!"

The sound cut through the frosty air as the bundled-up child darted through the snow, her little boots sinking deep with each hurried step. The snow clung to her knees, slowing her pace and draining her energy, but she didn’t care. Her gaze remained locked on the small, sleek bird flitting just ahead of her. Its feathers were a sharp contrast to the pale tundra, white, black, and streaked with blue. Not plump enough to survive the biting cold. Not camouflaged like the native creatures. It didn’t belong here. She’d known that the moment she saw it.

Curiosity sparked, as it always did. She had to know more.

"Peep-loo!" she called again, her high voice echoing the bird's chirp as she mimicked its cry. She stretched out a hand as if she might catch it, her gloved fingers brushing against nothing but icy air.

It was only when the bird disappeared into the distance that she stopped, her breath puffing into frantic little clouds. Her heart raced as she realized the world around her had changed. No familiar landmarks. No path to guide her back. The snow stretched endlessly in all directions, the sky dull and heavy with the promise of more to come.

She was lost.

The weight of her father's lessons pressed against her mind. Find shelter. Conserve your energy. Build an igloo if you have to. Her lips curled into a small, frustrated pout, and she exhaled sharply.

But before panic could settle in, something shifted in the corner of her eye, a glint of silver against the stark white. She turned her head and froze, the sight before her stealing her breath away. Long white hair, and piercing blue eyes.

"Auntie!" she chirped, relief bursting from her chest as her face lit up. She twisted her foot, stuck in the snow, and wobbled dangerously before grabbing hold of a low-hanging branch. With a determined grunt, she pulled herself upright, shuffling forward with renewed energy. "Auntie, Auntie, what are you doing out here?"

Her cheeks flushed with excitement, and her earlier fear was forgotten as she reached the witch’s side. The bird, her original pursuit, had long since disappeared. It didn’t matter. She had a new mystery now, one far more fascinating and familiar. Something she could chase endlessly, without ever needing to know why.

Starter for @madama-noctule

[threeyesrp]

One step, two

The transition through The Gate was like stepping between worlds, a breathless shift from frozen desolation to a realm that felt like a dream. One moment, Isolde stood amidst the unforgiving tundra, the icy air biting her cheeks and numbing her fingers. The next, she was surrounded by the delicate hum of life. The air was warmer, heavy with the fragrance of cherry blossoms, and sunlight filtered through their pink blooms in soft, dappled patterns.

Her eyes instinctively lifted to the sky, seeking some anchor in this disorienting new world. The sun hung in a similar position to where it had been in her homeland, still crawling its way up from the horizon. She guessed she was only a few time zones away, but the unfamiliar landscape left her feeling untethered. She couldn’t say for certain where she was.

The trees here were unlike anything she had ever seen. At first glance, she thought their vibrant pink leaves were impossible, but as she squinted closer, she realized they weren’t leaves at all. Flowers? She blinked, awestruck. It felt as if she’d stepped into a painting, the kind her books back home tried and failed to describe.

Curiosity bubbled up in her, irrepressible as always, urging her to explore. She turned from The Gate, her feet crunching against the gravel path as the structure behind her began to dissolve. The stones floated gently back to the ground, settling into an unremarkable pile that betrayed nothing of the magic they held. A passerby might dismiss it as just a scatter of weathered rocks, but she knew better.

'How pretty,' Isolde signed to herself, her small hands forming the words as her thoughts whispered in tandem. The silence of her gesture was a comforting echo of home, grounding her as she ventured closer to the trees. The blossoms dangled just out of reach, swaying teasingly with the breeze. She stretched her arms, hopped once, twice, and then again, but the petals remained elusive. Her wide eyes flickered with determination, and she darted to another tree, then another, chasing the soft pink clusters as though they might slip away if she hesitated.

The world around her grew brighter with her playful hops and skips. Her movements were quick and full of energy, like a little rabbit darting through the trees, unaware of the distance she was putting between herself and The Gate. With each jump, she drifted closer to something she couldn’t yet see. Far ahead, just beyond the veil of cherry blossoms, lay a settlement nestled in the warm embrace of this strange, vibrant land.

Starter for @ask-tdw-0666

[threeyesrp]

Rules

At times this blog may deal with more adult themes like violence and such. I'll try and tag anything that may have a tw but if I forget or anything just send me a dm or ask and i'll fix that.

I can ramble sometimes in replies, don't worry about matching my length. Just do whats comfortable to you.

I will probably only take 2-3 rps at a time. I usually only rp a scene or event at a time. Like first meetings, beach episode, or other events like that will be their own things and then from there we can do new rps for new events. This will allow for me to rotate between partners if needed while keeping no one waiting for long.

– Interactions:

I like to ship things, I'm just weak like that but don't worry about returning any oc's feelings. One sided things can be fun as well and if you feel uncomfortable at all just hit me up and i'll change it. This is all for fun after all.

All anon hate will be deleted unless directed purely at the muses. I don’t mind, be mean to them for all I care.

I have no triggers or squirks so don't worry there Three Eyes is like, he doesn't know what personal boundaries are so warning on that. He'll act more on instinct then with logic. So while he may stay at arms reach for awhile, once he gets comfortable he will get touchy. Hugs and stuff. Also softly obessed with things softer then he is. He's weird. I have more mc ocs then shown and they may come in and out to fill rolls as supporting characters and such. So from time to time one might pop up here and there.

– Other:

I’ll try and tag all obvious triggers, though if you need something specific tagged please do tell me.

Sometimes I can be late on replies, sometimes my muse is being a shit, sometimes I am just plain tired and cannot concentrate on certain threads. I am not ignoring our thread, just trying to figure it out or wait until I am more away and awake to reply.

Feel free to message my via the chat system to either plot, talk ocs and or aus or just goof around. I am open to starting friendships but sometimes am bad at keeping up conversations.