Fantasy The Shadow of The Seal

[Wyll]

The Shadow of The Seal

IC Page

Behold...

... The Seal

A battle of secrets, lies and shadows

© reveriee

 

[Wyll]

CHAPTER 1 - Kidem

Location: Head Library
Interactions/Mentions: Anything and everything within the RP that has a pulse​

---

The stained glass skylight refracted the suns rays in gentle hues, painting the walls of the Lasalle Library with brilliant light. A cool wind blew through the large space as a gentle breeze from outside danced its way in through the windows and around the library, starting on the highest floor - the fourth floor - and slowly floating down, cooling the entire library. There was no music playing but the rhythm and buzz of people talking and moving around filled the air. Despite it being a library, it couldn't be said to be particularly quiet. Patrons were free to mill about, talking with friends about books they'd picked up and ones they were interested in reading. Casual conversation floating through the air and bringing life to the library. However, together with these casual conversations, floated whispers of secrets.

Within the library, Assassins, Spies and Lorekeepers for The Seal were woven into the same fabric as the rest of the regular library-goers, undistinguishable to the named eye and the uninitiated. However, camouflaged in the normalcy of everyday library life, they passed information, secrets, and plans, right in the faces of the civilians and some of the librarians who were none-the-wiser. Notes left in books and returned to the shelf only to be picked up mere moments later by someone else; the idle tapping of one's foot to pass across morse code; subtle gestures passed from one side of the room to the other. It was all one intricate dance that only those who had been taught to look for it could see.

And, of course, there was one whose eyes always saw. Perched in the far corner of the highest floor, sitting behind his desk and watching the entire library with his sapphire eyes...Bookie. Nothing happened in the library that he didn't see, no conversation that he didn't hear, no secret that he didn't know. He was the one person that everyone in the library, whether Agent of The Seal or not, knew to respect and, in some cases, even adore. All Assassins, Spies and Lorekeepers that walked into the building would immediately look to him and give a quick nod of acknowledgement out of respect for his position. To the regular civilian, they wouldn't know to send a greeting his way because, even if they looked right at him, they would see nothing due to the fact that his corner was perpetually covered by the shade such that it was nigh impossible to see him if you didn't know he was there. With the number of Agents associated with The Seal increasing and changing so rapidly, this was one way that they were able to identify each other: anybody that knew to greet Bookie belonged.

There were also another set of eyes that all agents would feel. They wouldn't be able to see her or hear her but their gaze drilled into them nonetheless as Guille watched from the shadows. Unlike Bookie, she wasn't able to watch everyone at the same time, so her gaze slowly shifted from one person to the other as the glided through the library, making sure everything was in order. Seer had assumed her usual seat near the front entrance such that she could give the minds of people a quick caress as they entered the building to know what they were here for. Agents that had been here long enough would recognise her touch on their mind, however, non-Agents simply walked in, not aware of another consciousness touching theirs. Keep was nowhere on the ground floor where he could be seen by others. No, that would be far too out of character for our Pillar. Rather, he was within the lower levels, buried in his books as was his habit.

Agents also knew to go to the Center Table and collect todays missions list or, as it was otherwise known, "Today's Recommendation". It was a simple paper that contained a list of book titles. Each agent was assigned a book title, such that if their book title ever appeared on the Recommendations, then it meant they would need to report to Bookie for assignments. For those who didn't see their assigned book title on the Recommendations, it simply meant that they didn't have any missions that day and were free to do as they pleased. And, for that reason, today was special.

There were five books listed on the recommendation list and absolutely none of them belonged to any of the Agents within The Seal. This meant that, somehow, for this one day there were no missions. So, the books listed on the recommendation sheet were just books that Bookie felt would be a fun read for people - a list he had compiled with Keep. For that reason, there was an easy atmosphere all over the library. However, even in the absence of missions, there were still things to do and the Agents knew that.

After all, the day was only just beginning.

 

[Talathel]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Relaxed, Calm, Collected with a hint of Amusement and Fond Exasperation
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  https://i.etsystatic.com/11991411/r/il/cb8617/2169947758/il_570xN.2169947758_gcqo.jpg

  Must you ask?

  https://i.etsystatic.com/11991411/r/il/cb8617/2169947758/il_570xN.2169947758_gcqo.jpg
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Kidem - Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Open (mentions: Quill & Bookie)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

A set of ebony heels made ominous clacking noises against the library floor as Saphielle Zayna; Princess, heir to the throne of Falin, and well-known Assasin of The Seal, made her way across the floor. Long auburn, copper strands seemed to gleam ginger as light played across the strands pulled into a delicate hairstyle. The strands were pulled back into a delicate waterfall braid with many smaller braids intertwined throughout the hairstyle. An Amazonite lily necklace gleamed against her tanned skin as she made her way to her usual corner of the library. A navy blue skirt swirled around long legs with a slit going to the knee, and a tight-fitting light blue top accentuated her hourglass figure as the ex-princess and Vigilante made her way to her corner.

Delicate fingernails fingered the bookshelves reverently as the woman found a book to her liking, pulling the fantasy book to her hands before settling herself in the dark corner. Her deep blue, violet, and sage green orbs found Bookie easily, giving a gentle nod to one of the pillars she most respected before settling down to enjoy the peace while it lasted. And who knew how long that peace would be. She had no clue honestly. Somehow the rest of the agents from The Seal could always get on her nerves...then again there was one she could stand... and that one was Quill herself. One of the first (and so far only) agents that had her complete trust and loyalty. Those piercing orbs softened just a hint as the well-known 'Ice Princess' of The Seal thought of the Faefolk that she considered basically her sister in all but blood. Pretty much if anyone came across Saph right at that moment some may choose to run away screaming for fear of what caused her cool, collected side to get so soft. Usually, that meant something bad was going to happen .... and you wouldn't want to be around when her more mischievous and chaotic side showed.

"Peace and quiet, not going to last long I bet I take it, Eona?"

Her voice was soft, quiet, and slightly accented with her exasperation as she spoke softly to her bonded friend next to her. Eona had been alongside her through thick and thin...her rock during some of the hardest moments in her life, which was exhausting to remember. White paws appeared next to her, a large head settling in her lap as the assassin opened the book, elegant fingers playing with the white silver-tipped fur as her best friend and only other protector watched the library with piercing mercury-dipped blue orbs. Eona gave a soft rumbling growl as her mistress and friend spoke, her eyes scanning for danger. She wagged her bushy tail happily at the feeling of soft scratches against her head. Sending a few smaller agents scurrying away from the well-known assassin with her very presence. A soft smirk crossed the pink lips, as Saphielle tried to keep her amusement under control.

"Must you scare everyone Eona?"

Though the scolding was obviously light as amusement and fondness colored her soft tone, shaking her elegant head gently as she read the book quietly.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Klown]

Location: Head Library
Tags: Talathel

The Lasalle sang its brilliant ballad, a sonata written by the wise silence lining its walls and orchestrated by its patrons. A crescendo of lead and ink against parchment, the beat of hardcovers set atop desks and flipped pages, the melodies of hushed conversations between eclectic lips. In the pockets of each whispered note, tucked safely beneath the grander arrangement, were secret hums caught only by attuned ears. A distinct but unobtrusive tempo heard only by those who’ve practiced the rhythm countlessly and knew the cues.

Quill scrambled through the composition like an unsteady tremor. A note that fluttered, trembled, and dropped too early. She’d been a sheet torn and left an unfinished song, but the music did not stop for her. It adapted, it adjusted. It introduced new instruments to fill the quiet of her absence, the chorus now an unfamiliar symphony. It was deafening. Overwhelming.

She’d mistaken notes, provided incorrect recommendations, scattered documents after a patron’s foot caught her tail accidentally, she’d even nearly forgotten to greet Bookie upon her attendance. She amended each mistake hastily, but the restlessness that catered anxiety still quivered through her veins and left a path of dried, powdery blue petals along the library’s floors. What should have been a day free of stress and business was instead the slow drip of water into a cup nearly swelled to the brim.

Quill found Saphielle with the ease of something misplaced, but not lost. A shadow of a memory, a pulse of familiarity. A beat she recognized and lyrics she knew.

Fresh buds grew anew in her hair, shedding some of the crisp, dried petals in their wake. Her approach barely heralded her footfalls or the shuffle of her clothes, soundless enough to be mistaken for a ghostly apparition. Her eyes glide along the lines of the book that captured Saphielle’s attention.

“I like that one.” She said from behind, her tail swaying beneath the cloak that covered most of her form. Her chin dropped onto Saphielle’s shoulder, and she brushed their cheeks together as if in greeting. For a rumored Ice Princess, she was quite warm. “Good morning to you as well, Eona.” Quill crouched before the wolf, her knees pulled against her chest and the sway of her tail almost in tandem with the canine’s.

Although Saphielle had not been lost to Quill, there were fragments missing. Whispers forgotten; the ghosts of emotions stirred. Quill couldn’t read people as well as she would like. She had an amateurish understanding at best. It was the glimpses of anguished smiles or furious worry that perplexed her. On occasion, she caught the shadows of her lost memories upon other’s faces. Some more obvious than others, and some more painful. She’d seen it on Saphielle’s face the first time they’d spoken after her accident, but it never surfaced a conversation. And Quill, as always, was left to wonder.

“I hear the recommendations are lacking today.” She mentioned from where she remained crouched beside the table, peeking up at Saphielle.​

​

 

[roxybirdie]

THE TROUBLEMAKER.

scroll

ROAN

"FENNEC"

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Haunted...

OUTFIT

RANGER CASUAL

LOCATION

LASALLE LIBRARY

MENTIONS

KALIN, BOOKIE (NPC)

INTERACTS

N/A

TAGS

WillOWispJJ

BONES — IMAGINE DRAGONS.

scroll

GRIM REAPER,

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?

CHAPTER 1.

Roan Duskraven is a changeling; they will be addressed as Fennec Sunshadow until further notice.​

​

There was a saying in Doran Woodlands: The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground. A proficient hunter with ample combat experience could take down a pack of rogue direwolves alone. However, the hunter joined a party and eliminated the threat together. Despite their hunting prowess, it was more efficient to face the threat as a team instead of confronting the danger alone. Because of this, Doran encouraged rangers to hunt in pairs.

It boosted morale and promoted camaraderie; teamwork was essential to catch the most game.

Growing up in Doran, Fennec learned the importance of community. For instance, everyone in the village knew each other by name and occupation. If a villager suffered through hard times, another villager took care of them. Community was the foundation of Doran; without teamwork, the village would crumble.

'Not that you deserve community,' a voice mocked. It sounded heart-wrenchingly familiar. 'You aren't worthy of camaraderie. You get people killed,' it sneered. It hissed like a venomous snake waiting to strike. The whisper was distinctively masculine. 'You got me killed. You're a disgrace to everything Doran stands for,' it seethed. The low baritone made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

'My father would be disappointed in you.' It was like a dagger between the ribs; each word twisted the blade and plunged it deeper until it reached his heart.

'Isn't that right ... Roan?' it growled.

"My name isn't Roan," Fennec whispered. His fingers clutched the blank piece of parchment.

From the corner of his eye, a slender hand grasped his shoulder in a bruising grip. A curtain of silvery blonde brushed against his neck, tickling his skin. Lips ghosted over his ear, but their breath felt like a chilling mist.

'Wearing my face won't hide you from the truth. You can't run forever.'

Fennec whipped his head back, expecting to meet deep russet brown eyes. However, the otherworldly apparition disappeared. All he saw was an empty table and a shelf lined with books. He heaved a sigh. Suddenly, a whine emitted from his side.

"I-I'm fine, Reaper," Fennec murmured. He raised his hand and patted the large albino direwolf sitting next to his chair. Intelligent crimson eyes stared at him with a knowing look.

"Don't give me that look, I'm fine. I thought I saw something, but I was mistaken."

If a direwolf could scowl, Reaper would. He stared at his master unimpressed. Fennec couldn't fool him. The hallucinations were growing worse.

Fennec adjusted the pair of senbon – shhh, they're chopsticks – keeping his messy bun secured. It deviated from his usual hairstyle. However, Fennec left his house in a hurry and chose the quickest up-do. "Since we have no missions today, I can focus on my next personal project. I've been neglecting it for too long," he muttered. Once his hair was secured, Fennec picked up a crumpled parchment and smoothed the aged paper. He retrieved a quill with a glossy black feather and dipped it in an inkwell.

"Algiz ... Othala ... Gebo ... Uruz ... Tiwaz..." Fennec sketched out the individual runes on the parchment. "Now I list their umbran counterparts..." He drew a different set of runes. The shapes were similar to the first set, but umbra runes require dark magic to be activated. "This should be the terran counterpart..." Under the umbra runes, Fennec sketched a third set. Terra runes are connected to earth magic.

Half an hour ago, Fennec entered the Lasalle Library. He approached the center table on the first floor, anticipating his book title from the list of recommendations. However, none of the books mentioned featured his title. It seemed the heavens blessed him with a day of leisure. Instead of returning home, Fennec chose a secluded table on the top floor – it was tucked away in a corner – and opened his runes journal.

If Seal granted him a day off, Fennec wasn't going to sit idle at home and do nothing.

Since the library was filled with civilians, he wore a casual ensemble; a simple linen long-sleeved shirt and trousers with a green overcoat and laced boots. No agent worth their salt would approach the center table in full gear. However, Fennec wasn't completely defenseless. He never left his house without a few weapons hidden on his person. Fortunately, as long as his familiar behaved around civilians, Bookie granted Reaper permission to enter his domain.

Without warning, his stomach growled. He gazed at his satchel bag on the table. "I should've stolen a plate of cookies before I came here. Maybe I can bribe Kal into baking my favorite," Fennec grumbled. He set down his quill and opened his bag, retrieving a singular snickerdoodle wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped the cookie and breathed in the cinnamon aroma. It was forbidden to bring food and drinks in the library, but...

A single cookie wouldn't hurt ... right?

"Oh hells, I don't care anymore." Fennec took a bite.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

The barely audible chuff of dust as black, leather boots disturb the patch of ground the dust had once rested on; a flash of blood red causing the shadows to stir for a fraction of a moment before returning to the still, dark void; the stampeding beat of a heart too wild to be matched by any drum, yet somehow contained behind steady silent breaths.

Navon had just landed in the alley opposite the library having returned from a mission, adrenaline still pumping. The thrill of being sent on a solo mission was a unique one, rather akin to bring the soloist for a musical piece in front of a large crowd. For many, the allure was the bird-like freedom to fly unhindered, charting their own path and doing as they pleased. For others, it was the pride-tickling feeling of knowing that all the glory would be attributed to you - bragging rights that you could wave around as you pleased. For Navon, however, the appeal was knowing that he didn't have to worry about anybody else's life but his own.

Of course, he always felt responsible for the lives of just about every Agent of The Seal, but it was even more so on a mission. On mission, nothing else mattered - not petty grievances, not broken promises, not even The Seal or the Pillars - more than the Agents that were beside him and making sure he brought them back safe. It was a job he fulfilled with a great sense of duty but it also burdened him, especially given that losses were not entirely uncommon in this line of work. Solo missions were a chance to shed all of that and carry out the mission without worry.

And so, as he approached the library, for the first time in a long time, he approached as a man unburdened by responsibility and duty. Even as he pushed open the doors, tossing a quick nod toward Bookie, it would seem like he walked a little taller, his steps a little lighter than his already pianissimo footfalls. He walked up to the center table, just to check if he would be highlighted on the Recommendations. He doubted it, given as he just got back from a mission, but nothing was impossible.

As he scanned through the list, he noticed that not only was his book not there, but the books there did not belong to any agent that he knew of. Confused, he looked back up to Bookie, raising a curious brow, to which the elderly man just smiled and nodded, answering the question he knew fluttered in Navon's mind.

A rare smile found its way to the assassin's features as he basked in what the news meant. He would have to remember to give the mission report to Keep once all was said and done, but for now, all urgency left his steps. If this was truly to be a day off for every Agent, then he was going to make the most out of it.

...

At least, that was his thought until he turned and spotted Quill. Seeing her birthed a violent and untamable wave of emotions crashing over him, such that even his physical body struggled for breath - much like he was literally drowning in emotion. Doubt. Fear. Regret. Pain. Guilt. Each one was a wave that pulled him back under the waters every time he tried to catch a breath. No. Please. You can't be back. I've already failed to protect you once. Please, I don't want to risk failing again.

Before he knew what was happening, his feet had already started moving, leading him like a willful captive toward Quill. He had been so focused on her that he didn't notice either Saphielle or Eona - two who ordinarily would have caught all his attention. He began speaking even before he came to a full stop. "Quill."

How are you back so soon?
"What are you doing here?"

I convinced myself that as long as you stayed away you'd be safe.
"You should never have come back."

Even as he looked at her now, all he could remember was running toward her location; doing everything he could to reach her on time; pushing past his own limits so that he could be there when she needed him the most...only for him to arrive and see an unconscious Quill. He hasn't forgiven himself for that day. And, despite being glad to see her alive and well, as he looked at her now, all he could see was a reminder of his colossal failure...nearly at the cost of the life of someone who had specifically reach out to him for help.

Mentions: Quill ( Klown ), Saphielle ( Talathel )

 

[lyn.]

D

ays were long in the Belwick manor. Silence often filled its hallways, leaving an unsettling feeling as one stayed the night. The servants were few, the owners even less. Were it not for Aricia and her mother, the bedrooms would be left empty, save for a few days a month. Some might find the emptiness calming. Enwel Belwick often spent her time by the window, knitting or sewing or doing whatever it was she enjoyed doing in the silence. To her, it seemed a comfort. To Aricia, it was pure torture.

She suspected her mother faked her enjoyment, as nothing compared to the smile on her face when her father decided to show his face. Her hobbies forgotten as she followed him around like a lost lamb. It disgusted Aricia to no end, yet she knew she could not voice her frustrations. No doubt her mothers idolization of Aldor makes her no less a spy than Aricia. A loyal wife who reported Aricias every move to her husband.

Aricia had spent more time than she’d like at home. Two days were fine, it was needed to keep up the ruse as a lawful daughter. She passed the time easily. She read up on plants to satisfy her parents’ interest in her magic, and her own in potion making. She worked on skills she was not yet adept at, cooking, knitting, though she abhorred it. Her hope being the skills could be useful in her work as a spy. It was easy, filling up her time for the first few days. And when the silence became too much, she would take a few maids and go out shopping.

She had splurged a few times, a futile attempt at pissing her father off. Unfortunately, their funds were too high for him to notice. The only time he had seemed bothered was when her spending grew too close to The Slums, to the life she had promised she abandoned.

Four days, and she already found herself at her limit. Her brother had come home for his weekly visits, and the smile on his face as he spoke to their senseless mother made her irritable. So, at last, she made her escape.

The Seal brought an embarrassing amount of comfort. It was so clearly lived in. She could always hear a fellow agent or two down the halls. She knew where to go for solace—to lose herself in plants and bottles. It was never lonely, not to her.

These were thoughts Aricia would never admit to anyone but herself. She knew how ridiculous it sounded. The Seal was not home. No matter how lively it was compared to the real thing.

Aricia’s thankfulness for freedom could only last so long, however. Her emotions hopped at the revelation of no missions. There was nothing to distract her, nothing to do. She lifted a book off a shelf and slammed it closed just as soon as she opened it. She didn’t want to read, that’s all she’s done over the past few days!

She huffed loudly as she searched around the room. Negative emotions spilling, she sought out only one person.

“Scarlett!” she shouted, uncaring of the relative silence the library demanded. Scarlett had a knack for popping out of nowhere. She just had to find where. Her sanity could not take the lack of conversation any longer.

Besides, she brought her a gift. A small amount of imported tea she didn’t know the name of. She had snuck out to the docks to buy it, a place her father so abhorred her visiting. It was risky knowing he had eyes on her, but she had managed the quick purchase. She lifted a small brown box above her head. “I’ve brought a gift.” She announced, already turning to leave the room. Perhaps she wasn’t here, after all?

"A bird flew by, saw what I'd done..."

Aricia Belwick

location:

Kidem, Head Library

outfit:

interactions:

CrimsonInk

 

[Mypilot]

i am bound by the seal

Walking into the Grand Library was, as always, like breathing in a lungful of air after surfacing from water. Else felt energy flood them merely stepping through the stone archway into the library itself, the smell of paper and history thick in the sunlit room even if they weren’t yet in the stacks. The skylight painted the entrance chamber a warm colour, and the size of the room echoed an orchestra of sounds to Else’s pointed ears.

Today they wore a face that many Agents would be familiar with: a wood elf form they often took when they were in a good mood. It was one of Else’s few forms that others took as an invitation for conversation, as they wore what could possibly resemble a slight smile naturally. Woody brown skin seemed to catch the suns rays in a warm glow, and moss-green eyes habitually floated upward to find the figure they knew to be watching far above: Bookie, startling blue eyes no doubt glimmering with all the knowledge and secrets hidden within.

Secrets that, Else noted, would evidently be kept close at hand today given the noticeable lack of missions. The table that centered the room, stacked with an ever-changing array of recommendations, was devoid of any books intended for specific agents. A free day? Not to relax—no, there was always something to do—and in Else’s case they decided they would take the time to go over a recent mission they’d been on. An easy decision made once their eyes locked on a particular brown-haired hobbit hovering by the table. *Cresley.*

Else changed directions abruptly enough to startle a library patron beside them, but they had their sights set and they certainly weren’t going to get assuaged by the shuffling bodies around them. “Cresley,” they said once they were near enough, their voice high and clear in this elfin form. “I assume you have noticed what I have. It is my advice we take this opportunity to go over our previous mission in greater detail.” They didn’t elaborate as to *why* and assumed Cresley would recall the mistakes that had happened. Nothing major—the mission had still been, more or less, a success—but it hadn’t been a perfect success, and that was where Else drew the line.

The task had taken three of them, one for each role. The target was a small group of brothers who bought and sold stolen artifacts and used it to directly fund the Falin military with weaponry and other valuable resources. Else had been selected due to a background with artifacts and the ability to identify them, and Cresley for the combative skillset he could provide whilst scaling the surrounding walls that protected the warehouse location. The spy… Else hadn’t known them before the mission, not well anyway, and certainly had no wish to do so anymore. They hadn’t performed to a standard Else had come to expect from the agency.

Which meant Else needed to go over the mission, step by step, to better understand how such a piece fit on the chess board. To better understand how to make that piece work, and where, and in what way. Which meant forcing Cresley to go over the notes with them, so they could dig into his mind and see what he thought of the whole ordeal.

Now just to make him come with them.

else

LOCATION: The Library entrance room

INTERACTIONS: Cresley

MENTIONS: Bookie

TAGS: hery

SUMMARY Else enters the Library and seeks out Cresley to go over a past mission.

code by valen t.

 

[Talathel]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Fond, Amused, and rapidly switching to annoyed and extremely protective
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  https://i.etsystatic.com/11991411/r/il/cb8617/2169947758/il_570xN.2169947758_gcqo.jpg

  Must you ask?

  https://i.etsystatic.com/11991411/r/il/cb8617/2169947758/il_570xN.2169947758_gcqo.jpg
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Kidem - Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Quill ( Klown ) Navon ( Wyll )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

The elven princess hummed softly as she felt the brush against her cheek, her tri-colored eyes softening even more so than before - sending a few extra surrounding agents scurrying for cover as the 'Ice Princess' greeted Quill fondly. Brushing her own cheek gently against Quill's as she turned her attention from her book to the faefolk girl next to her.

"Hello Quill. Wonderful to see you, my dear."

Her voice was like crystals chiming, dulcet tones weaving through her voice as she spoke. Her fingers lowered themselves to rest on Quill's head gently, her nails scratching at just the right area as she smiled softly.

While words wove in and out of the library halls, Saphielle couldn't help but relax her more stern and distant posture especially when it came to Quill being around. It was like there was a whole new being in place of the icy elven girl that usually was in place. A pang of hurt shone through her eyes, the pain and sorrow obvious in the tri-colored orbs as she remembered the fight the duo had ended dup having not long ago. You see, Saph viewed Quill as a sister, basically, family in all but blood - and what that meant for both her and Eona was you don't mess with Quill ... or you deal with the deadly version of Saphielle. However, not long ago the two had fought which had ended up in a lot of hurt, pain, and betrayal. Quill had found out her secret - one that only the pillars themselves knew as she preferred to not flaunt her heritage around. What was left between them... it broke her heart to the point she became so cold she almost rivaled her mother. Then Quill lost her memories - and while not all of them were lost the girl clearly didn't remember their fight, and Saph actually preferred dit like that.

Eona tilted her head slightly, opening her wide jaws as she panted and gave her mistress a look. Her ears flicked back as she gently whined before eagerly greeting Quill. Like Saphielle, Eona adored and treasured Quill with her whole body. It was honestly adorable to see the giant wolf wag her tail almost in tandem with the cat-like tail the girl had from her race. A soft lick was her greeting to Quill as the girl gazed at her book before turning her whole attention to Quill. A smile decorating her face, giving the girl a pleasant look to her compared to the stone-like quality she usually boasted.

That whole demeanor changed within a heartbeat. A low rumbling growl emerged from Eona as Navon approached and almost instantly Saphielle was on her feet and in front of Quill. Those warm eyes iced over, giving the other assassin a deadly glare as she shifted from the kind and gentle self she saved for Quill to the well-known 'Ice Princess' once more. Eona followed, pressing herself against Quill as her ivory fangs bared and a growl constant in her chest.

"Navon. Back off."

Her voice was silky and dangerous as she spoke, arms crossed over her chest. She would not risk a fight in the middle of the library. Nope. Her heeled boots gave her a few extra inches but she still craned her head up, her eyes narrow as she refused to budge. Navon was literally the least favorite agent that worked for The Seal - I mean he tried to kill her! And Saphielle was not amused in the least. Quill was her family. And you don't ever mess with those she cared about.

"Leave Navon, you're not welcome around here."

Her voice brooked no argument as she raised a delicate eyebrow, cold gaze basically spitting ice as she shifted her weight. The girl tilted her head slightly, letting her gaze fall between Navon and Quill carefully.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Klown]

Location: Head Library
Tags: Talathel Wyll

Saphielle’s touch soothed like a warm blanket, a pleasant tingle trickling down Quill’s spine. It chased some of her tension away, allowing Quill respite from the cacophonous pressure that bled her from the inside. Eona’s greeting was another remedy, allowing for the smallest smile to persuade her lips.

“Quill.” Somewhere distant and echoing, a mallet is slammed onto scorched metal, embers sparked from its incensed red glow.

Quill couldn’t have faced him even if she wanted. Saphielle had interposed between her and Navon, her back providing sanctuary from his coarsened gaze but not the words that struck from his tongue.

“What are you doing here?” and then, “You should never have come back."

A draconian swing, the strident clangor of belligerent metal, fire. Shocked Incredulity filled the space avoidance abandoned, wandering eyes dragged towards the grating sound, Quill’s face was one of hardened numbness inherent in someone suffocated by an unspoken torrent.

Heat. Within her chest, within her veins, within her cheeks. Not magical. None of it the liquid warmth of milk and honey to soothe the spirit, nor the defrosting touch of sun against a cold-flushed face. This was a boil. A scalding. A vehement spark in a bone-dry forest. Fire untamed. Fire that ravaged. It marauded her lungs of their breath and devastated her pulse. It possessed her tail, its stillness now a smiting whip.

Navon was killing her. His words were some vindictive, archaic curse that shot magma through her blood without a scent of arcane machinations. It was all she could reason of the throttling pressure rising within her. If not purged immediately, it would obliterate her from within. Each cut and bruise and scratch of failure by virtue of the changes within the past seven months stung and burned with a ferocity. They bled like picked scabs and opened anew. A truth she didn’t want to hear because she considered it a truth at all.

The impassivity of her face twisted in the way clouds might obscure the sun. Slow, involuntary. A docile, expressionless sweetness now shattered glass. Dark, inky vines slithered through the strands of her hair, tearing the blue flowers that bloomed within it. A gnarled, coiling bramble. She’d lost seven months, and among those seven months she’d lost experiences, and before that she’d lost an entire life. She was a puzzle unfinished, barely worth the attempt at completion with all she was missing. She knew broken things were thrown away when they are no longer useful.

“Where should I go then!?”

Thorns pierced the air around her as the small needles along the vines exploded in size, bursting like dozens of unsheathed swords. Shredded petals flake onto the ground beneath her feet.

She’d expected a demon to spring from her, or a wicked flame to expel from her lungs. Something tangible for her to grasp and return to him. But there was nothing. Just her voice, hardly recognizable, as it ripped through her with thorns of her own making. Her. It was all her. This had not been a malicious curse cast by Navon.

This feeling. This rage. This shame. It was hers.

“Do you even—You say that—I don’t—” her mind and tongue were racing on oiled floors; slipping, sliding and scrambling for footing but the tiles collapsed from under them. She stepped out from behind Saphielle, the sides of her fists slamming into Navon’s chest, fueled by a visceral ache to lash out. To make him ache as much as he was doing to her.

“I have nothing!” Her voice splintered, unaccustomed to reaching anything above a passive hum. There would never be a normal life for her. Not with the Echobinder. Whether within The Seal or not. It could have been an argument against her. Clinging onto something because there was nothing else to hold, not because it was a necessity, or because she wanted it. Her knuckles whiten from their clutch around Navon’s shirt. “This is all there is. Why do you—why do you not want me to—” A brittle-glass voice, words shattered on her tongue before she could finish.

“You are…you are cruel, Navon.” Rage dampened into shame and coalesced with guilt, the edge of her face softened into a vacant realization. Her throat was raw, like she’d swallowed dozens of jagged pebbles. Her hands released Navon so abruptly you’d think him made of acid, then hugged herself as if self-assurance of her presence. But she’d yet to feel like she’d returned from the accident at all, lost just as well as her memories. ​

 

[CloudySkyLoftyMoon]

Îstoire – The Glutton

The Library | Kidem

Mentions: Bookie, Else, Aricia
| Tags: N/A

Who would have thought? The den of darkness; the lair of vītal larceny; the seat of the sicarii…was a library. Amidst studious students and seeking scholars were black-hearted assassins, ruthless killers whose name could silence even the crying of children.

They were the Best of the Best…or…at least…they were supposed to be…?

Îstoire shifted in his wheelchair, the difficult to ignore voices a source of mild discomfort. Unmistakable emotion hummed beneath every word; hummed a tale of passion and of sorrows; of a grapple between what is and of what once was; a tale of DRAMA.

These were his 'co-workers', the world’s foremost assassins—a statement as brilliant as it was disconcerting. Îstoire sighed and raised his gaze to meet Bookie’s with quiet admiration; such immaculate foresight, such meticulous design. Who else could have so perfectly managed and so masterfully concealed The Seal.

The unassuming library, the subtle systems that structured the organization, the impassioned agents airing their dirty laundry to an unwilling peanut gallery—cough—truly, who would believe this was The Seal. Frankly, even as a member of The Seal Îstoire himself could scarcely believe it.

It was nothing short of a miracle that the Seal remained secret; a miracle or a masterstroke in misdirection. Expose the Seal? How? To whom? Even if one somehow obtained an audience with the Emperor of Falin himself then what would they show him? Certainly not these fellows. If anyone were to suggest anything so ridiculous the nobles of the empire would surely laugh in their face and then execute them for Lèse-majesté.

These people were the most feared assassins in all of Tainam? Sure.

Sometimes Îstoire wondered if he’d been tricked, beguiled into some bizarre cult of Seal wannabes. People trying their best to imitate the stoic and steady assassins of the rumors. But then he was reminded that—no, shocking as it may have seemed, these people were the real deal. Their skills in the field were unquestionable. Perhaps that’s why they were so…different.

As they said, genius and eccentricity oft walked hand in hand.

These were the moments in which Îstoire found himself almost appreciative of his own acquaintances within the Seal; tome-goblin they may be but Else wouldn’t be caught dead making such ruckus and Aricia…well, jury was still out on that one. Îstoire could almost swear he’d heard her shouting earlier; didn’t she know the silence of the library was sacrosanct?

Forget it. As much he liked to keep abreast with workplace drama, he really didn’t want to be anywhere near the splash radius of…whatever this was. His book wasn’t on the shelf, so he had little reason to stick around. Was the tavern open? Perhaps he'd go for a drink...

 

[WillOWispJJ]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  How He's Feeling:

  
  
  
  

  Bored but productive
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  What He's Wearing:

  
  
  
  

  Casual black robes with silver cuffs

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Where He's At:

  
  
  
  

  Kidem- Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Interact/Mention:

  
  
  
  

  Fennec ( roxybirdie ), Bookie (NPC)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Kalin

The Refugee

Chapter 1:

The soft vocals of the crowd filled the air. The streets tapped with both heavy and light footsteps. A cool breeze swept through the air. As a hooded figure walked toward the Kidem Head Library. His dark red tail swished gently from side to side. As he entered, the horns of the tiefling could be seen ever so slightly as he gave a small nod to Bookie. “Good day to you, Sir.”

Taking notice of Bookie’s seemingly slightly more relaxed nod back, Kalin walked towards the center of the first floor. He scanned the list to see if he would be needed for a mission, but found nothing in relation to himself. With a small smile, Kalin ascended the stairs. “A day off? How unusual, I suppose I can’t let it go to waste,” He muttered, making sure that no one heard him. He found his favorite spot for this section. It was peaceful, and he was able to get work done without interruption. After gently and properly laying his dark cloak out beneath him, Kalin sat down, pulled out his quill, his ink, and his journals, and got to work.

A few minutes later, the harsh sound of scribbling penetrated the quiet outcove of the Head Library. Not many came to the outcove nor paid any attention to it.Piles of books scattered and curved around the cloaked Kalin. Journals lay sprawled open as he quickly switched from one to another. The hard parchment scratching against the sharpened quill. Eventually, about 2 to 3 hours later, the scribbling stopped.

Kalin stood and gently wiped the sweat from his brow. Making sure to not get any of his precious journals or the books laying in front of him. With swift but careful movements, Kalin moved the journals to his leather bookbag. It was a rare day off and he wasn’t about to waste it. He had used the time to learn more about the geography and topography of the different cities and countries. Sketching routes for easy access in and out for other agents within The Seal.

After making sure his journals were packed away safely, Kalin gently put the books back into their places. He was careful to not let any dust or sweat damage them. “That should suffice for now,” Kalin mumbled to himself before ascending up the stairs from his hidden spot.

His next target lay at the top floor of the library. The historical section of the
Falin Empire and those that it had laid waste to or forced under their rule.

As Kalin ascended the stairs, towards his next informative target, he couldn’t help but notice the familiar sight of Fennec. A “friend” of his, if you could call them that, that he hadn’t seen or been on missions with in a while. He noticed the large direwolf that sat beside him and nodded. “Good day, Fennec. Good day, Reaper. I must inquire as to why you are here. Normally, you stay at your room and,” Kalin gave a slight pause as he noticed the cookie sat in Fennec’s hand. “Is that a cookie? In the library? Fennec.” his voice lowered into a more displeased tone.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[DeathUnchained]

Jason Elvesh​

Location: Head Library
Mentions: Bookie, Seer, Guille and Quill
Interactions: N/A

The loud, heavy footsteps, almost like a signal. Heavy footed and large, only one agent of The Seal could bring forth such a powerful step. The half giant, Sword of the Seal and the biggest self sacrificing lug the Seal had ever seen. The half breed, kneeling slightly to enter the library immediately drew the attention of all the common library goers. Despite being a regular face in the library, one never quite got used to seeing such a large individual. His size so imposing, his eyes always covered by the metal visor and always clad in that onyx colored armor. One might mistake him for a harbinger of death, but that was only for those who didn't know he was a complete teddy bear. Sweet and caring.

After walking into the library he looked to Bookie, giving a nod before also looking to Seer and giving her a nod of respect as well. He tried to make it habit to show each pillar respect, but he had to admit it was hard to find Guille for him. However he always made sure to show his respect whenever he could.

The half giant made his way to a section in the far back. The only section that had seats large enough for him, so he made it his own personal section. His massive sword at his home. It was hard enough being as large as he was, let alone while wielding his massive great sword at all times.

Upon a closer inspection, Jason was a bit more unkempt than usual. A smile on his face as he opened his hand. In his large hand was a small pile of soil, blooming from that soil was 12 or 13 buds of a flower. Not just any flower, but Vampire Lilies. A very rare flower that only blooms where an ancient vampires blood has spilled. That alone made them hard to find. The Lillies were gorgeous. Pure alabaster petals with striking crimson veins running over them. A wonderfully striking flower that took a long while to find. He traveled deep into the wilderness, fought land dragons and all manner of other beasts just to get to cave that was rumored to have them. Luckily it seemed the rumors were true. He fought through the vampires still infesting the cave and procured these specimens. Why would anyone go through all of this just for a rare flower? Why else? For a woman.

A wide smile formed on his face as the half giant fool gently potted the vampiric flowers in a clay pot he had purchased on the way to the library. The pot decorated with white and red flowers painted in the most vibrant hues to match the wonderful blooms they held. He then pricked his finger with a needle and dropping some of his blood into the soil. Turns out they feed on blood just like a vampire and if kept properly could last almost forever.

As he gazed at the flowers his heart was heavy. A painful sadness welling deep within himself. Memories that were so deep and were so raw and real to him, only a dream to his love. Something she had experienced yet could not recall upon waking into this new reality she found herself in. The bond they shared, stolen from her and he had not the heart to tell her. She was so overwhelmed upon her return to The Seal. Who was he to add the burden of his own feelings to her? Upon her return he had rushed to her, finally ready to tell her how he felt about her, but then to see her look at him, no recognition or that spark they once shared in her eyes. It shattered him. Almost as terribly as it did when he realized he wasn't there to keep her safe. How could something so visceral and real just vanish so fast? Part of him hated it, but he could never place the weight of that on her shoulders, especially since he didn't even know if she returned his feelings. Not for sure anyway, but he had hoped. Instead he chose to love her in secret, praying that her memories may return to her and hoping that even if they didn't, she could learn to love him again.

Jason took a deep breath, burying his sadness behind a jovial smile a d tending to the pot of rare flowers. It was quite a sight to see such a large, burly man tenderly tending to such strange and exotic blossoms. Even stranger still was the fact that he seemed so attentive to the task. Lost in his own world of blooms and sunlight. One of his quirks. Hyperfixating to the point of almost losing himself entirely in whatever task had caught his eye at that point in time.

 

[CrimsonInk]

THE JOKER.

scroll

SCARLETT

LEONHARDT

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

BORED, PLAYFUL

OUTFIT

SOFT VIBES

LOCATION

KIDEM, HEAD LIBRARY

MENTIONS

N/A

INTERACTS

lyn. Aricia

SPARKING — NAMCO SOUNDS.

scroll

Wind and Words.

We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

CHAPTER ONE.

Light feet ambled through the various tall, dark oak bookshelves inside the Head Library of Kidem. To be a spy of a secret organization was tireless, but rewarding work for the young changeling. Today was treated like any other day with giving her acknowledgements to her most respected Pillar, Seer, and the one who made her the more anxious, Bookie. There were no recommendations made in her name, and despite it being three days it feels like weeks. Usually, she would have no issue with relaxation, but this time around she needed something to do from the extra energy she had inside.

Her dark eyes took in the delicious spines of titles that she had recognized from past “checkouts” she had done. Especially one she had just done recently. Her finger grazed against the engraved lettering thinking back on what could have been ameliorated. The woman was her worst critic when it came to missions. As a huntress she knew that sloppy work could get you killed, and while she had gotten better, it wasn’t enough. Other agents made sure to remind her and chastise her for it. Do better. Be better. If only they knew how much she had to hold back, she could show them her improvements.

While the voices of people were hushed and gentle, the voices of pages being flipped through and books cycling through were the loudest kind of sound that relaxed the woman’s mind. Scarlett was on the third floor looking through titles of past missions to kill the time. A tiny squeak and prickles against the fabric of her dress caught her attention. Tuttle, her very small companion, climbed from her leg and up to her shoulder. Curious of what her master was doing and in need of her attention. Scarlett placed a finger against her lips, turning her head just slightly to gaze back into the blacks of their eyes and newfound heavy weight from her shoulder.

“Shh~, Tutu. Are you tired? Just a little longer, okay? I was just checking on something,” she assured her pet.

Only their voices were silenced by another who dared to speak louder than them. It was her name being called by a familiar voice. A voice she knew all too well that the girl could feel herself filled with joy. A bright star-like twinkle glared from the woman’s eyes, twirling around and running towards the railing, practically almost falling over from the inertia of her excitement. Readjusting her stance her eyes scanned the room carefully and there she was — Aricia! She knew that head of gorgeous embers dancing around and gracing her name to the heavens of the library.

“I’ve brought a gift.”

Oh, this was an interesting thing to happen on such a dull day. This made Scarlett even more curious of what her dear friend brought her, and the thought of having company was more welcoming than anything.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking Tutu?” she asked the now chipper squirrel, who in return cheered in squeaks and nods.

Bracing herself she put her hands together creating a wall over her mouth and just when she was just about to yell back, the panging set of eyes caught her attention stopping her halfway. Only a soft “ah” escaped her lips and Scarlett turned her attention towards Bookie, who seemed annoyed by Aricia’s loud echoes through the library. The woman giggled and gave a smile that was well-known to be laced with mischief. Mouthing the words ‘sorry’, she decided to make haste to join Aricia’s company before she was punished by the Pillars.

Scarlett’s movements were graceful as she traversed down each level. It was amusing for her to see how unnoticeable she can be to the common person, especially when they pass by without a second thought to look back. Now being on the first floor, Scarlett hastened over to Aricia with fingers dancing from one end of her shoulder to the other. The girl smiled following her fellow spy’s movements, mirroring perfectly where her head would turn until she finally showed her presence with an embrace.

“Hiyo~Ari. It’s been so long,” she began, her voice smooth and airy pulling back, “how have you been?”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Shadow]

"I have failed you in this labyrinth of my mind..."

Kygo

The Shadow

• .
• .

• .
• .

location

Lasalle Library, Kidem

mentions

Navon, Quill, Aricia

interactions

Currently open

tags

...

There was a pace to life in Kidem, and it covered beautifully the hidden pathways that were walked there by spies and trained killers, by experts in secretive knowledge and covert actions. A constant light to black out the shadows, a veneer of peaceful water to cloak the deadly undercurrent, yet each one giving purpose to the other.

Kygo walked on that path now, but the entire apparatus was still a stranger to him, and he to it. Stranger to the land, stranger to the path, and still, somehow, no acquaintance needed to be made.
He was spared from unwanted introductions when nameless faces and faceless names were just the daily currency on these bustling streets.

Another nameless face...
Kygo walked with his head down and his shoulders hunched, looking like a man who deemed himself invisible, especially as he slipped between the spaces in the crowd to avoid touching or being touched by anyone.

And yet, he kept bumping headlong into every sound their collective footfalls made; every turn of a wheel over stone, every shout and whisper, every slammed door, and every breath. They moved through him like a cutting breeze and pulled his attention in all directions, down alleyways he had never stepped foot in and into stores he never intended to visit.
And for all the ways in which the city's soundscape never faltered, he could swear that the masses were making a special effort to punctuate every action with an unnecessary noise today.

Kygo became aware of the workings of his own lungs on days like today, and his mood was none the better for it: he scowled at the stones in front of his feet and refused to look over his shoulder when an infant began to cry loudly for their father's arms.
Just picked up his pace.
Even then, making less noise than anyone near him, he was frustrated to contribute anything at all to the cacophony.

Fortunately, the Library wasn't far now, and he finally fell into sync with the faceless footfalls around him, step by step to the grand front door.

He breathed out slowly as he moved inside, leaving the street's chaos behind to become encased in the ambience of the Library; a sensation which grew more familiar by the day.

Kygo's shoulders lowered and his head lifted as he took in the sight and sounds of the Library's visitors, none of them especially familiar.
Then, he numbered the steps to the central table as he walked them; knowing them in the same way that he was beginning to know how the paper would scrape against the wood table when he picked it up, how the echoes of conversations would linger and repeat on all sides before dissipating.
The sequence of movements flowed into that glance up, toward Bookie at his table.
Kygo lowered his head and bent forward slightly at the waist: a gesture of respect that still felt unfamiliar to perform, but which was beginning to come more naturally to him.
A habit, perhaps, in its early phase.

But the absence of his assigned book title brought on a frown and disrupted the only pattern he had come to enjoy with this work.
Instead, he was left to scan the occupants of the Library again, his attention inevitably drawn to Navon's voice coming from a different floor, with a tone that suggested Kygo was better off sticking to his own company for now.
The depth of emotion in the responding voice gave him pause, though. He turned a reluctant gaze in their direction, but, of course, he couldn't see them from here.

And it seemed the Library just wasn't in harmony with its patrons today, as more of its occupants found a reason to raise their voices, sending rippling fragments of speech in every direction.

"Scarlett!"

Aricia's shout had come from somewhere not far off, and Kygo's shoulders flinched reflexively toward his ears, pulse jolting into an unsteady rhythm.
Real or imagined, Kygo felt the pressure of a gaze landing on the back of his neck and it offered a helpful, if unwelcome, reminder to shove his hands firmly in his pockets and take a few slow breaths, as he tried to reorient himself to the softer rumblings and whispers of the Library.

Kygo's gaze flickered back to the door, briefly, but unless some magic happenstance would transport him beyond the bounds of the city, he knew there was no point in turning back to spend the day alone.
So, his feet carried him to the opposite end of the hall: far enough, perhaps, that he could forget the agents' voices for a while and find shelter in a secluded aisle of bookshelves.

Naturally, he skipped every aisle where a patron already lingered, until he found a quiet space where he half-heartedly resumed his search for a book he had been wanting to find.

coded by reveriee.

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

He only noticed Saphielle when she stepped in front of Quill, as if to protect her - her ginger-looking locks now stood as a wall of fire that blocked him off from his target. In reality - with height enough to tower over her and a build wide enough to almost double hers - the physical battle would look much like a large cat backing a mouse into the corner. However, they both knew that the mental battle was nothing even remotely close to that.

Saphielle stood as an irritation to Navon. A talented irritation, but an irritation all the same. She wasn't one to be pushed around and he wasn't one to back down. If anything, the mental battle now was most akin to two rams butting head, just about evenly matched by every metric.

"Saphielle, this does not concern you. If Quill cannot handle what I have to say, she is not ready to be back in the field. You know as much."

At this point, he had walked close enough that he could just make out Quill's smaller frame behind Saphielle.

"You can protect her all you want in here, but we have both seen what happens when you are not there." His voice, deep and oak-like, seemed to hum against the walls around them. He refused to raise his voice. Rather, he couldn't raise his voice because the emotion behind the words wasn't anger. It wasn't frustration. It was a tumultuous and befuddled mixture of fear and pain.

Then there was the change that Navon, in all his foresight, could never have predicted. Few things cause Navon to step back, and this was one of them.

“Where should I go then!?”

Quill looked like he had never seen before. There was a look in her eyes - a ravenous storm, a churning sea, an untamed fire - that he had seen many times in his own eyes. He had seen it in many others, expected it from many others...Quill was not one of those.

As she struggled with her words, a thin, sad, nigh-invisible smile drew itself on his features. Yes, Quill. Find the words, fight for them. Stand taller. Embrace the shame, and stand.

He saw her fists coming and could have stopped them, but no. She needs this, he thought. He knew her pain and frustration. He had walked through the same inferno as he watched his closest friends, those who trusted him, believed in him, counted on him, be massacred while he was helpless to do anything. All he wanted to do then was blame someone, find someone to take his frustration out on. If he was to be that for her, then so be it.

He let her finish her tantrum but did not think less of her for it. If anything, she had started regaining his respect.

"Weak". He finally said. "Even with all that anger, your punch is weak." He grabbed her hand and put it back to his chest. "Amateurs, those who do not know what they're doing punch the chest. A weak punch to a well-protected part of the body? You may as well ask to be injured for yet another seven months." He threw her hand back down. "Tight fist. Flat knuckles. Ears, throat, liver. Learn how and where to throw a punch, then you have a right to be angry at me, to call me- hngh!"

Navon's words were cut short and his face contorted into one of pain and his body tightened as though it were struggling to keep him standing. His pain was silent, unable to be voiced as his mind was pried open, forced to share consciousness with another. Seer appeared behind him, silent enough that it seemed as though she had only just now faded into existence. Her steps were so poised that there wasn't even a bobbing or swaying of the shoulders. The flow of her cascading purple dress, together with her silence and stillness, made it appear as though she hovered over the library floor, coming to a stop beside Navon and placing a hand on his shoulder, causing him to wince, his stature involuntarily buckling to where his head was lower than hers.

"You are disturbing the peace for others, sir," she said, gesturing to those around the library who were now looking towards the trio. "I'm giving you this chance because I know your words do not betray your thoughts..." She released her mental hold on him and he stumbled forward, struggling for his breath as he regained possession of his own mind. "Make yourself scarce".

Mentions: Quill ( Klown ), Saphielle ( Talathel ), Seer ( NPC )

 

[roxybirdie]

THE TROUBLEMAKER.

scroll

ROAN

"FENNEC"

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

But cookie...

OUTFIT

RANGER CASUAL

LOCATION

LASALLE LIBRARY

MENTIONS

BOOKIE (NPC)

INTERACTS

Kalin

TAGS

WillOWispJJ

BONES — IMAGINE DRAGONS.

scroll

GRIM REAPER,

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?

CHAPTER 1.

Roan Duskraven is a changeling; they will be addressed as Fennec Sunshadow until further notice.​

​

Suddenly, his pointed ears twitched.

"Is that a cookie? In the library? Fennec."​

Fennec sensed Kalin before the older tiefling approached him. He took a massive bite out of his snickerdoodle. He wiped the crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared at his friend with a look of pure innocence.

"No?" he replied. Fennec shoved the rest of the cookie inside his mouth and chewed. He wiped the remnants of cinnamon on his trousers and raised his hands. "See? No cookie. I think you're seeing things, Kal," he added. His stuffed cheeks resembled a chipmunk. Once he swallowed, Fennec flashed his friend a disarming grin. "Speaking of cookies, you should bake some more. I'm craving peanut butter." He loved a variety of cookies, but peanut butter was his favorite.

Fortunately, Fennec shared the same favorite as his dead lover. The last thing he needed was unnecessary suspicion.

Reaper rested his head on his master's lap, a silent demand for attention. The direwolf looked done with his master's shenanigans.

"For the record, I have things to do. It's easier to work here than at home," Fennec pointed out. He licked his fingers and wiped away the crumbs clinging to his overcoat. He picked up his runes journal and flipped to a different page. The weathered journal featured a dark brown leather-bound cover and a golden runic script down the spine. A red ribbon was attached to the journal, acting as a bookmark. The pages featured over a decades worth of research and findings. Fennec possessed more journals dedicated to his research, but his current journal was special.

It was a gift from the professor who sponsored him at the academia.

"My title wasn't on the list of book recommendations so I'm not about to waste my day off doing nothing." Fennec paused for a moment. "I can be productive, you know."

With a disgruntled huff – it sounded more like a grunting snort – Reaper left his master's side and approached Kalin. He bumped his head against the tiefling's hand, demanding attention. The direwolf gazed at Kalin expectantly.

Fennec stared at his familiar unimpressed. "I ignore you for five seconds and you already switched sides? You're such a spoiled pup," he grumbled.

Reaper merely barked.

"Shh! No barking in the library, Reaper. Do you want Bookie to kick us out for the day?" The word, 'again' hung in the air like a heavy curtain. It wasn't the first time Bookie sent them away and it wouldn't be the last. If he were an ordinary civilian, Bookie undoubtedly would ban him for life; he would bet an entire month's worth of coin on it.

The direwolf flicked his tail at his master with enough sass to rival Fennec.

"Keep that up and I'll eat the jerky strips in my book bag. I know they're your favorite treat."

Reaper had the audacity to look scandalized. Somehow, the direwolf conveyed the emotion through a single stare.

He rolled his eyes. Dramatic pup. Fennec retrieved his parchment paper and examined the runic symbols. He blew on the aged paper, silently willing the ink to dry faster. Despite his chaotic nature, the silvery blonde hated messy calligraphy. He was extremely careful not to fill his research papers with ink splotches. If he wasn't mindful, he could lose weeks worth of research because of a simple accident.

Fennec learned from his past mistakes, thank you.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Talathel]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Protective, Annoyed, and just plain out done with everything
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  https://i.etsystatic.com/11991411/r/il/cb8617/2169947758/il_570xN.2169947758_gcqo.jpg

  Must you ask?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Kidem - Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Quill ( Klown ) Navon ( Wyll ), Jason ( DeathUnchained )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

Saphielle's copper hair seemed to flicker like flames as she stared down Navon icily. Her eyes hard chips of ice, almost making the tri-colored orbs appear darker than reality suggested. Navy blue appeared almost black, violet appearing a dark plum purple, sage green appearing a deep forest. Her eyes themselves seemed to hold the forest themselves. While known for her cool demeanor, her famous fiery temper let itself be known as she spoke - tone almost representing a glacier with the tone - icicles seeming to drip from her words dangerously as she spoke.

"It does concern me when you mess with someone I car about."

No doubt about it - the 'Ice Princess' was officially ticked off. She allowed Quill to step forward, having no qualms about letting the girl protect herself. An unmovable rock against a fierce river, Saphielle remained put. Her eyes flashing between Quill and Navon carefully.

Eona gave a sharp snarl of annoyance and anger, her fur bristling as her ears flattened against her head, ivory daggers flashing as she snapped her jaws dangerously.

"He is indeed cruel. Why don't you go and maybe find some food hmm?"

Saphielle recommended gently, her tone softening from the glacial disposition to something warmer, a gentle wind against the storm that had formed. It was incredible how quickly the girl could switch her tones.

"You can take Eona with you."

She smiled softly to Quill, resting a soft hand against her arm, dangerous gaze daring Navon to say something. When Seer appeared however, Saph took a step away from the group. Her eyes quickly becoming guarded as she gave a slight bow of her head and smiled at Quill

"Maybe we can go find Jason to tag along for some snacks. We both know you love Mumbasa."

Light, airy and soothing - a balm against a raging tempest as Saphielle suggested the idea. Not entirely a fan of wanting to stick around the pillar. Seer alongside Guille were two of the pillars she most was unsure about. And would prefer to not dabble around them unless for missions.

Saphielle gently turned on her heels, ebony boots clicking ominously against the floor as she strode away from the interaction. While she desired to protect Quill, she also wanted her to choose what she wanted to do and right now she needed to be away ...faaaaar away from Navon before she itched to punch him. Her navy skirt whirled around her legs, silver embroidery catching the light and dancing across the fabric in elaborate swirls and floral patterns. The assassin carefully put the book back in place, reverently stroking the spine like a lover would hold their beloved. Her eyes slowly seeming to brighten back to their original tri-colored shade. She had left Eona with Quill, knowing her loyal companion would stick close to her 'sister' in all but blood. She had to admit, it was nice to not be on a mission ... but she was starting to go stir crazy.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[WillOWispJJ]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  How He's Feeling:

  
  
  
  

  Amused and slightly annoyed
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  What He's Wearing:

  
  
  
  

  Casual black robes with silver cuffs

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Where He's At:

  
  
  
  

  Kidem- Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Interact/Mention:

  
  
  
  

  Interact: Fennec ( roxybirdie ) Mention: Bookie (NPC)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Kalin

The Refugee

Chapter 1:

Kalin raised an eyebrow at his “friends” actions. As he crossed his arms, he watched as the crumbs fell to the ground like sand or ashes being wiped from the coat and trousers. His golden yellow eyes making their way back up to stare at Fennec’s. “I can’t believe you would attempt to lie to me, Fen. Besides, I know my cookies when I see them. Now, I can either surmise that the cookie was either one I had given to you, or it was one you stole. The latter being the more possible answer,” Kalin hummed. His tail flicked back and forth, as if signaling to Fennec that he was not as upset as he sounded.

Kalin's expression changed to one of more amusement as his friend asked for a special treat to be made. “Peanut butter, eh? And what have you done that deserves such a succulent treat to be made? Especially just for you, Fennec?” The original harshness in Kalin’s voice had dispersed and was now replaced with amusement.

As Fennec stated that his book had also not appeared on the recommendation list, Kalin’s expression became that of mild surprise. Although, he still hid it rather well. “Really? It seems that my title also was not the recommended list. But I am curious as to what ‘productive’ work you have done, Fen?” Kalin asked as he gently pulled out a chair at the table and sat down beside Fennec. He gently smoothed out his black robes and cloak as he sat down, making sure to look in proper form. “As far as I’ve known you, very rarely is your work productive. Unless, of course, you are out on a mission.” Kalin’s eyes snapped to the multiple parchments and journals laid about the table.

His sharp eyes landed on the runic scribbles. Ones that he did not recognize from any of his research. “Was it in relation to your runes? If so, you have still yet to teach me about those. You know I’ve held such an interest in them for a while now,” Kalin watched with careful eyes as Fennec gently put the fine journal back into the bag. He had seen that journal since Fennec first arrived at The Seal and knew it meant quite a lot to the elf.

Kalin’s eyes wandered down to the familiar direwolf resting upon Fennec’s lap and gave it a small, very small, smile. Seeing the familiar walk away from Fennec’s side to his, Kalin gave a slight chuckle before he reached a hand down to give Reaper some gentle but firm strokes along his head. “Good boy, Reaper. Don’t listen to your mean master,” Kalin joked dryly. Though he tried to be humorous, his jokes and teasing never seemed to hit anyone the same way it hit Fennec.

“As for getting kicked out by Bookie, I’m honestly shocked he hasn’t suspended you for longer. With as much noise and complaints you make on a daily basis,” Kalin mused as he continued to pet the beloved direwolf.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Klown]

Location: Head Library
Tags: Talathel Wyll

“Weak.” A hornet’s sting. Seething deep beneath delicate skin then plunged again. “…You may as well ask to be injured for yet another seven months." Had it been her heart thrown instead of her arm wouldn’t have made a difference. Navon had taken the toe of his boot and battered it until it bruised and wept. Quill could feel its cries, the way it clenched to keep itself whole.

By now, she would have left. Distanced herself from the fuel of her tumultuous emotions and the havoc they wrought. Confrontation was a foreign landscape with Quill ill-equipped to pave it. Saphielle eased the reflex, her silken tone wrapping Quill in a pacifying comfort. Her eyes, which had been transfixed on Navon’s with the severity of cornered prey, snapped towards Saphielle as if only just now aware of her presence.

The thorns in her hair rescind slowly, like dozens of small, thin snakes. Halted only Navon’s abrupt silence, and the iron walls which rose unto Saphielle’s face. Quill needn’t turn to know who had approached, but that did not stop the glimpse of shock when her eyes fell upon Seer.

“Mistress—” She gasped, the word fleeing her mouth of its own accord. Her head immediately lowered, and her tail wrapped around her own leg like a punishing coil. From beside her, she heard Saphielle make mention of Jason and Mumbasa.

Jason Elvish, the half-giant who’d startled her near-to-death when he approached, but whose actions betrayed a gentle selflessness. He was the hardest to understand. Quill was not privy to how most emotions puppeteer one’s countenance, but she knew of something concerning eyes and windows. Jason Elvish had no windows. None that she could see, anyways. But he’d claimed they were friends before the loss of her memories, and without Saphielle’s rebuttal, she believed this to be true.

Quill nodded a covert farewell to Saphielle, her head still bowed in Seer’s presence. She glanced at Eona, her fingers gently brushing into the wolf’s fur for an extra measure of comfort.

“My apologies, mistress. I…I don’t know what came over me. You have my deepest and sincerest apologies. It will never happen again.” The bitter encounter’s aftertaste pooled in the corners of Quill’s mouth. She’s raised her voice in the library. She’d lost her temper, a novelty. She entertained the thought of being encased between the leering bookshelves and never found. ​

 

[lyn.]

T

he longer it took for Scarlett to appear, the more Aricia’s disappointment grew. She felt her barely hidden irritation grow. If Scarlett isn’t here, then what am I to do? Perhaps she could go visit some of the other agents she’d befriended. But vying for another's attention was something Aricia’s pride could not take at the moment. The blank look from her mother as they shared a room left her skin crawling with defeat. Memories of a desperate daughter and an idle mother were trapped in her mind.

She did not need to beg for attention from Scarlett. With her, it was different.

Thankfully, her thoughts did not have time to run any deeper. She gasped at Scarlett's sudden appearance, the tiny box in her hand falling to the floor. She cursed inwardly, and prayed that none of the resident lecturers spotted her moment of unawares. No doubt noting this moment as a weakness to bring up later.

She returned her friend's embrace, a wide smile stretching across her features as Scarlett stepped away.

”Ah, there you are!” She lifted the bottom of her skirt and picked up the gift off the floor, her dress tugging uncomfortably at her sides when she leaned down. Curls covered her face as she righted herself, and she did not bother to right it. It was not proper for a noble lady, but relieving after the constant headaches the past few days her pinned up hair had caused.

”I will never stay away for so long again. I was miserable!” Her smile grew as she held the box out, palm up. ”A gift for you. Imported tea of some kind. I do not know what it is, exactly. I figured it would be more fun as a surprise.” Truthfully, she didn't have the chance to check. Every moment she spent at the docks fueled her paranoia that she was going to get caught by her father. She was running back to her maids the second the merchant had accepted her money.

Voices she had ignored until now rose, and Aricia fell quiet. Navon, she could recognize that judgmental voice anywhere. The man could be standing in a flower field reciting a poem and she would still hear his disappointment towards the one flower that did not bloom. She’d tell him as such, if the thought didn’t make a shiver run down her spine at whatever lengthened response he would spit back at her.

Still, drama was drama, and Aricia couldn’t help but turn to look. Her attention quickly snapped back to Scarlett once Seer appeared.

”And how are you, Joker? As bored as I am, I hope. I fail to understand how an organization such as The Seal would fail to keep its agents busy.” She reached a finger towards a nearby shelf and gingerly pulled out a book, opening it up and flipping the pages, acting as if she was reading it. ”Must we truly read history books all day?” She dramatically sighed, slamming the book closed and immediately regretting it. She did not want Seer’s eyes on her, no matter how much she looked up to the woman.

"A bird flew by, saw what I'd done..."

Aricia Belwick

location:

Kidem, Head Library

outfit:

interactions:

CrimsonInk , MENTIONED: Navon

 

[CrimsonInk]

THE JOKER.

scroll

SCARLETT

LEONHARDT

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

HUNGRY

OUTFIT

SOFT VIBES

LOCATION

KIDEM, HEAD LIBRARY

MENTIONS

NAVON Wyll
SAPHIELLE Talathel

INTERACTS

lyn. Aricia

SPARKING — NAMCO SOUNDS.

scroll

Wind and Words.

We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.

CHAPTER ONE.

The item that dropped in between their embrace caught the girl's eye. Scarlett followed it until she realized it was the gift Aricia spoke of. A small chuckle left her lips following her movements. For a noble lady Aricia was a lot more relaxed than the few she has come across. Aricia was as fresh as the winds during the spring. Scarlett’s face brightened at the sight of the gift. Her smile grew, showing her twinkling veneers to the woman before her.

“Thank you, Ari~,” she thanked, opening the box to the set of tea leaves that graced her with an aroma she was familiar with.

Breathing in the scents, the tea enthusiast in her began to break down what kind of assortment this was from her dear friend. The leaves seem to be a blend between black and green with the hints of safflower, peach and apricots. It was a tea she recognized immediately being among her favorites to drink. The woman couldn’t be anymore happier, especially for a blend that she had been craving for so long. She held it closely to her person, excited to share this tea with Aricia.

Before she could even speak, the abrupt blend of voices growing louder made her curious. Her head tilted, trying to almost listen in on the argument that seemed to be happening. One she could recognize automatically was Navon’s — his voice as deep as oak and as harsh as a blade, it was a voice she grew familiar with whenever they trained. Another came much more strongly, authoritative. Saphielle’s, it must be. Her tones were as cold as ice. While she had respect for the woman, she was never really able to get close to her — no matter how much she leveled with her there was also a wall between them.

A softer voice in the mix was also familiar, but she couldn’t pinpoint who it could be. Even if she did want to investigate further, the sight of Seer made it clear that the situation was being handled. Allowing her to revert her attention back to Aricia. Sometimes she wonders how the world is from Aricia’s eyes. So tall, poise, and elegant – yet so rebellious and spunky!

”And how are you, Joker?

YOU HAVE NO IDEA!

“I’m dying of boredom,” Scarlett whined, stepping an inch closer and resting her head on Aricia’s arm, “these past three days have been miserable!”

She watched the girl take the book in her hand and close it, the sound echoing loudly and winced at the harsh noise. Picking her head up she looked back at either Bookie or Seer to see if they noticed, or cared to notice, before returning her attention back to the noble.

“I don’t think reading books, especially history ones, aren’t quite boring. Though I’d rather go explore some ancient ruins or a secret cave than anything.”

Growl

Scarlett’s lips formed into a pout and another dramatic whine came from the girl, allowing the more weight to fall on Aricia. Surprisingly she was holding her up well.

“Ari~I’m hungry! We should go get food, before I die of boredom and starvation!” The woman’s words were over exaggerated as she looked up to the girl. Her features softened with her lips pouting to the woman, pleading to her.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Wyll]

The Fire

Navon
Hara

His mind still didn't quite feel like his own. There was a throbbing sensation in his mind, like a hand banging against the glass, that felt like it should hurt but didn't quite make it to the point where he could describe it as a pain. Even calling it an irritation or annoyance didn't quite seem right. Everything in his vision was saturated beyond what should be legal and he couldn't determine whether he could only see blurs or if they were more accurately described as blobs. Whatever they were, they were bl-something and they were giving him a headache. Even the voices around him sounded distant, like he was drowning in water and he was hearing the voices of people above the water surface calling out to him.

However, his vision steadied itself just long enough for him to be able to get a good look at Quill. It was as if time had frozen so that he could observe, a mercy for which he would be eternally grateful. Golden yellow eyes met silver white ones and, as he looked through them, he could see the broken heart. She did not hide it well and his heart twisted knowing how deeply his words must have hurt. But he would rather hurt her and have her hate him, than for her to be hurt out there and potentially not make it back. NoW is NOt The tIMe To aLloW yOuRSelF Be BRoKen. Getting his thoughts right was a struggle, and he knew Seer still hand a hold - albeit a light one - on his mind, in case he decided to be stubborn.

Sighing in defeated, he began walking away, but took a pause. He looked back over his shoulders, at Seer. "Ma'am, if I may...". He squinted as he felt another scattering of his mind. It wasn't harsh or violent, necessarily. But it felt like breathing in a rush of saltwater. Eventually, Seer finished her probing and nodded, indicating her permission. With that, he locked gazes with Quill once more, grateful for the opportunity.

I'm glad you're back.
Please be safe.
Take care of yourself.
We were all so worried about you.

"I do not know of many agents who got a second chance. Use it well...because I do not know of any agents who get a third". Those were his parting words, delivered with all the care and gentleness of a cactus, of course.

The further away het got from Seer, the clearer his mind became. Unfortunately, at this point, he had a lot of restless energy in him and he needed to burn it off somehow. Despite just checking them as he walked in, his first instinct was to check the recommendations again; maybe, for some unimaginable and extremely improbably reason, they still had the ones from yesterday up and, in the few minutes he's been in here, they switched them. However, as even Navon knew before getting to the table, no changes had ben made.

Letting out a long sigh, Navon's topaz gaze swept the library. I need someone to spar with...

Mentions: Seer (NPC), Quill ( Klown )

The Adder

Seer
(NPC)

Seer watched with careful eyes as Navon walked away. The child. His heart is in the right place...he just needs to share that with his tongue once in a while. Deciding for him to be somebody else's matter, she turned to face Quill. smiling ever so slightly.

It wasn't a comforting smile, nor was it an amused smile. It was the type of smile that felt like black fog crawling across your skin on a dark night. The type that sent shivers up your spine from a danger you could sense but not see. She continued her wafting walk towards Quill, nodding wordlessly at her apology. She began circling Quill, like a predator would to its prey. She was slow, deliberate, meticulous.

Her purple eyes seemed to be boring holes through every part of Quill's body, and then she stopped, directly between Quill and Saphielle. Her smile grew, both in size and in the menace it carried as she turned to look at Quill. "Saphielle, dear?" she called lightly, without once taking her eyes off of Quill. "Go keep Navon company, or entertain yourself some other way. I would like to steal our dear friend Quill for but a moment."

Her voice was as of a lullaby and though her statements were phrased as questions, they most definitely were not posed as such. And her tone indicated as much. Finally turning that sinister smile of hers towards Saphielle, her eyes seemed to twinkle with some unidentified form of curiosity. "I will have her back to you in short order," the Pillar reassured. "So you are welcome to idle here or idle elsewhere. I would so advise against disturbing us, however. I can't imagine that I would have much patience for that."

With that, she turned her attention back fully to Quill. "Now, my dear. I understand that you have been trying to replace me?"

Mentions: Quill ( Klown ), Saphielle ( Talathel )

 

[Talathel]

• .
• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Unsure, Uneasy, A bit confused, and of course A teensy bit Sarcastic
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Must you ask?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  Kidem - Head Library
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Quill ( Klown ) Navon ( Wyll ), Seer (NPC) Wyll l , Scarlett CrimsonInk , Jason ( DeathUnchained )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Saphielle

The Insider

White fur flashed, silver tips ice crystals as Eona shook her large head slightly from her spot beside Quill, letting her tongue loll out as the other girl ran her fingers through her fur. The large Arctic wolf huffed gently as her mistress gave her an order. Her large ears prick up and mercury-dipped orbs shimmering with intellect. The large wolf gave a slight bow of her head to Saphielle before she leaned into Quill's side. Her fluffy tail brushed across the floor daintily, a broom amongst the dust as the canine guarded the one person who meant the world to her mistress. Her ivory daggers flashing every now and then as she gave a mighty snarl at anyone else who approached the duo. While her mistress may not be welcome to the conversation between Seer and Quill, that doesn't mean Eona would leave her unattended. Saph usually made sure if she wasn't close enough - that Eona was protecting, guarding the 'sister' of her heart.

Night sky met forest as the three-toned orbs studied Seer carefully, cautiously debating her options. Saphielle couldn't help the flicker of sarcastic exasperation that ran across her face, instead gracing the pillar with a raised eyebrow at her suggestion. Surely Seer didn't mean for her to go... interact with literally her least favorite agent in the whole entire Seal. Right??

"Ma'am."

Her tone was cold as the mountains themselves, tone dripping icy calmness as she bowed her head slightly in reverence.

"Protect her Eona. I'll be around."

Her command was sure and commanding as she turned on her heel, hair seemingly embers amongst a dying fire as copper ginger strands caught the light. Heeled boots strode foreward and out of sight, sarcasm etched across her face as plain as day while Saph muttered softly to herself. Her eyes narrowing dangerously as she entirely forgot what she was doing.

So focused on her mini-rant - Saphielle didn't realize she had come across two other agents nearby. Without meaning to, Saphielle ran straight into Scarlett, stumbling back slightly. Her eyes were wide in a sudden hint of shock before her usual cold mask was back in place. While icy and calm, she bowed her head slightly

"Sorry about that."

A river amongst the sky, her blue outfit seemed to catch the light and dance alongside her elegant demeanor as she sidestepped, aiming to vanish away from other agents as quickly and quietly as she could. Her swords lay against both hips, sheaths a floral paradise as lilies and vines danced across the leather in swirling designs which made her own figure seemingly coated with mystery. Ocean and Blood met as beads danced through feathers in a set of dangling earrings that hung from her pointed ears, tips brushing her shoulders softly. Diamonds danced across the hilts - bringing life to the blades she treasured and that had been a part of her life since she had joined The Seal. Glaciers and Mountain winds breezed through the library as the Ice Princess made her way towards the exit, aiming to also avoid Navon in the process - not entirely wanting to spare with the assassin, still highly annoyed with him for going after her heart-sister in the way he did. Ice crystals, icicles, Ice- all of those words played a role in what appeared to coat the library as Saphielle remained in the room. Maybe she could find Jason... he could keep an eye on Quill. He was the only one she honestly trusted around Quill. Being the overprotective 'older sister' she was to her.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[hery]

The Sun

Cresley Hogsweed

̳C̳̳h̳̳a̳̳p̳̳t̳̳e̳̳r̳ ̳1̳: ̳K̳̳i̳̳d̳̳e̳̳m̳​

INTERACTION: Else
LOCATION: Lasalle Library
OUTFIT: Everyday
MENTIONS: Mypilot

The cadence of Cress' light footfalls was unmistakably fast, pattering on the cobbled walkways that led up to the Lasalle Library. The hustle and bustle of the city breathed a certain vibrance into the salty air blanketing the settlement, a stark contrast to the bone-dry land Cress had previous called home. Water, once a scarcity, was now a nuisance, condensing now into beads of sweat in clusters on the hobbit's forehead. Brown, tangled hair bounced up and down while he walked, shining gold in the sun.

While the bright sun did seem to exacerbate Kidem's humidity this morning, Cress' excessive sweating had a more likely culprit. On his way to the library, he had also been power walking alongside a crowd of aunties in linen dresses, all gabbing about the latest drama in their corner of the borough. It wasn't that he necessarily needed an extra pep in his step, but to Cress' spontaneous mind, it beat shouldering his way through the fish market, which was both as dense and rank-smelling as a tin of sardines.

"Remember Deirdre, if he won't buy the ring, it's time to start asking what you're worth to him. And good luck repairing those pajamas, Agatha," he said as some form of goodbye to the women walking in their synchronized state, then split off from the group to disappear down an alley. His voice could still be heard a ways away, a cheery echo calling to his brand-new companions. "See you next time, ladies!"

Before long, Cress had breezed his way to the entrance of the Lasalle, foregoing the arduous task of reaching the door handle by slipping in beside a particularly unobservant bookworm. Immediate to his right sat Seer, preening her appearance with a gaze cast off to the side. A shudder ran down Cress's spine, as open as he was to surrendering his thoughts at a moment's glance.

"Lovely day," he remarked, drawing a slight acknowledgement from the Pillar who both captivated and struck fear into his heart.

Cress was a the type of person one would think odd milling about a library, had it not been for the profession he kept so secret. His routine had been, for quite some time, to rush into the building, make his acknowledgements, and ascertain his assignment before leaving at a moment's notice. Today, however, he lingered at the central table, furrowing his brows at the day's Recommendation List.

He cast a sideways glance up and to the side, offering a very overt wave to Bookie. Cress' big, flashy smile gleamed in the spotlight filtering down from the stained glass, yet at the top of his face lay a brow raised to the apex of his muscular strength.

No missions today? Well, the tavern's open...

"Cresley," the hobbit's name was spoken, sending his head flying backward from his focus on the central table.

There approached Else, the very-capable Lorekeep Cress had the honor of working alongside his last mission, in their wood elf form. Something about the look on their face made the sweaty assassin want to run and hide...

"Else! Glad to see you're still intact," he greeted.

With a voice clear as a bell, Else shot straight to business. “I assume you have noticed what I have," they observed correctly. "It is my advice we take this opportunity to go over our previous mission in greater detail.”

"Oh, on our day off!" Cress exclaimed. "That's... well, a great idea, I suppose..."

Silence followed, and it was then that he understood Else was being both entirely serious and a threat to his long-awaited day off. But in The Seal, you couldn't really argue with anything relating to a mission. Especially not something so delicate as a sting on criminals funding Falin's directives.

"But might I suggest we have this discussion at a location less... stuffy?" In that instant, Cress could hear a commotion between a few of the agents. Ever so faintly, he sensed an elevation in Seer's psychic probing of the room. Everybody knew how the Pillars felt about agents' public decorum, and it seemed someone might have been in trouble.

Cress drew his attention back to his past mission's Lorekeep, unsure of what he could possibly say to convince them to make this work chat more fun. "Come on, Else. It's a free day."

coded by reveriee.