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virtuosin · 2 years
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From this post: Rolo’s Art Ships
@virtuosin
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virtuosin · 2 years
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{{  Also, to any mutuals--I did not remove you from my Discord. I have disabled my account until further notice. I need to unplug and get away a bit. I’ll reactivate it at some point. For now, you may reach me here.  }}
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virtuosin · 2 years
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virtuosin · 2 years
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ofshadowreaping​:
A defiant look finds its way to Rhaast.  She did like the idea of making it a glaze.  He was triumphant in whatever quarrel the two shared.  A smug smirk set firm upon his lips with his chin risen slowly to accentuate the level which he now felt he loomed over the weaponized god.  Silent banter from Rhaast offered nothing besides a more appeased look upon Kayn’s features.
As she continued however, he would dismiss the scythe and return his focus to Sona.  Mismatched gaze following after her as she spoke of being more prepared, and – sake.  Sake?  Yes, he’s tried it.  It was.. not what he expected..
Leaned into the boar to continue whatever tasks may be necessary to prepare it, his hands and forearms had become smeared in its blood with chunks of viscera clinging eagerly.  A flick, and a splash of chunks and blood would spread against the floor nearby him.  Leaned down to sniff at the inner cavity as if inspecting it to ensure it was clean.  Well.  Here she had just cleaned his eye of blood.. And now?  Now… his lower arms and hands are completely drenched, and dripping.  A glance around finds him just standing there with claws curled to try and tame the sanguine gliding smoothly along his skin.
Again – frozen.  The feeling of a part of her brushing against him.  He’s caught like a deer in headlights for a moment, brows lifted with gaze swiftly chasing after her being.  Even as she peers up, he’d not stopped watching her.  Feral gaze drinking her in with claws just slightly flexed like he might make a sudden move.  A snake coiled, prepared to act at a moments notice.
He had forgotten about the blood.  About the boar, and preparations.  A wood bowl held the organs unfit for the roast, the rest tucked back inside with enough of an opening in its stomach that should Sona wish to put more in with them, she had the ability to stuff the near emptied cavity.  But Kayn?  It hardly registered that she had requested he start a fire. 
Bits of what she spoke registered on another level, but something else was stirring.  He was silent as he walked towards her..  His form looming over her own from behind.  Slowly his hands lifted still red with blood, to settle upon her shoulders from behind her.  His form close, body leaned down to gently press his nose against her neck.  A pause, breathing out heavy with warmth tickling the base of her ear and cascading along her skin.
“Butter…”  He rumbled gently.  A hint of a growl beneath his words.  Or perhaps.. a purr..  He wanted to stay there.  Embrace this moment.  Explore the little stutters and warmth that rose from this human woman.  Yet he forced himself to start to move away.  Should Sona turn, she would find him simply – gone..
Butter..  She needed butter.  And sake.
Kayn stood outside a farm.  Quiet with the sound of cicadas singing their nightly melody.  A single candle lit in the home he had chosen.  One surrounded by milk giving mammals and a building he knew they used to produce cheeses and – butter.  A sniff at the air, and he moved forward.
If Sona looked, Rhaast was gone as well.  Accompanying the demi-god in his efforts to locate the needed ingredient.
There’s a pause as Sona listens for Kayn’s movement. But there isn’t any. No sound came from behind her as she finished her remark. Not a word from his lips nor squelch from his hands tearing into the boar. There wasn’t time to dwell on why this could be as before she knew it he was upon her. Even before he laid a single finger on her she could feel the heat radiate from behind. That divinely presence of his that announced his arrival. She briefly tenses, but it all gets heightened when he finally grabs hold of her shoulders. There is no violence behind his touch, a juxtaposition to bloodied digits and the chaos he exhibits. The way he drifts closer is calm and...almost sweet, as if lovers about to form a tryst. And then he mentions butter. Whipping her head around, she finds he is gone and with his disappearance she finds the ability to breathe again. Since when had she held her breath? It was a mystery to be sure, but she used these first few minutes to take in as much air as possible and fan off her burning face. What exactly was happening here? Had he no shame?! Worse yet was her own inability to brush him off. Shameful still was the fact she didn’t want to. Long has she kept the world an arms length away due to her own supernatural abilities. That, and those of this world didn’t hold her attention. She was ambitious, constantly striving towards her own hopes and desires. It was by chance that she and Kayn crossed paths and are now aligned together. All a mere whim of sheer luck. And yet, as her fingers lightly trail where his hands had claimed her shoulders, she finds her heart racing wildly. She could not summon any frustration at the blood now staining her silks. All that rested within her tiny form were budding flowers and butterflies nesting inside her ribcage, waiting to fully bloom. Was she this badly touch starved and in need of companionship that she was so easily swooned? Shaking the flustered feeling free, Sona goes about preparing the meal as much as she can without Kayn and the required materials necessary to finish up. Past that point, she also spends time tidying up. Her robes were already soiled so she might as well clean without fear of dirtying her attire. The edges where dirt marked the robes was salvageable, but the blood would be impossible to remove. Well, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have more at home, but it would be quite the predicament to show up looking as she does now. She’ll have to consider a clever tale to navigate that conversation with Lestara. Sona would be just finishing up the cleaning, at least with the areas that could be cleaned in the kitchen. It was in dire straits even before they began their preparations, but a bit of dusting and wiping up of the excess boar blood did bring the room together nicely. At least she can be of use while Kayn’s away. That, and if she really will be using this kitchen more often then she ought to get it in full working order anyway. Idly, her mind wondered about the other facilities here, particularly a bathing area. With the soot, blood, and dirt covering her now, she couldn’t help but crave a rinsing.
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virtuosin · 2 years
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SB: You look tired...what's wrong?
Sona: I've been kidnapped by a mad High Ordinal who wields the weapon which will bring about the destruction of the universe, an old friend I thought dead is actually alive and corrupted by the power of raw Ora and he seeks to abduct me, all the while I'm attempting to complete a prophecy which requires my life as a sacrifice to save all life in our galaxy.
SB: O-Oh, I...uh--
Sona: Also there's this massive galactic creature with four arms and a giant eye that'S tormenting me through dreams and keeps complimenting my garb--
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virtuosin · 2 years
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ofshadowreaping​:
Marcus was absolutely taken with the task at hand.  Fabrics lifted up to rest against her shoulder to compare it to the soft glimmer in her golden hues, and the pale strands of hair accompanying them.  Each a different pattern, and different look.  All high quality, eager to appease a particular necessity to give her something worth taking with her.  An experience, and good memories.  But most of all - a clear understanding that she was worth every bit of work the pair were intending to put into this.  At no expense to her.
While Marcus busied himself with fabrics and measurements, figuring out what would go where and how it should lay to accentuate her features fully, Lily took to the back to prepare some tea for the trio.  Beautiful cups and kettle would rest atop a tray carried by nimble digits.  Sugar, and cream in their own separate, matching containers with the light chatter of porcelain almost silent in each step she took.
“Do you take your tea with cream or sugar, dear?” Questioned the taller woman with a curious glance.  When the answer would come, she would apply Sona’s preferences, lightly stir, and offer it forward to her.  A warm smile cast between Sona and Marcus, quietly excited to see what would become of this wonderful encounter.
Marcus’ tea would be next served, and Lily’s last, taking a moment to sip upon it with the same elegance she had shown in their initial encounter.  Precise, fluid, with an air of warm confidence in each motion.
Gaze floated passed Sona to rest through the crack of the blind.  Lily moved to the door to peer out beyond it.  A stale look pressing lips forward in a subtle glare.
Unknown to Sona perhaps, Kayn was walking passed the shop.  Though Marcus certainly caught the disapproving look from his friend.  He gave a small tilt of his head passed Sona’s shoulder before turning to face her again.  A roll of fabric in his arms.  “Sona, would you please pick a color you prefer of these three?”  He requested.  A chance to distract Sona away from whatever was bothering Lily he hoped.  “I’ll be right back.”
It wouldn’t be long before Marcus was peeking out passed Lily, and Lily was returning to Sona hoping to help her decide on which fabric she liked more.  Marcus knew immediately who it was that Lily had grown bitter after seeing.  He watched the Ordinal stop, glaring towards the shop they stood in before making his way off.  Looking frustrated.
“I find this one would look incredible on you.” Lily offered with an edge lifted to rest across Sona’s shoulder.  “It brings out your beautiful eyes.”
Marcus would soon return, offering a reassuring smile in hopes of discouraging any concerns Sona may have.  “If none of these work, I have plenty more.” He offered with a bit of excitement shining through.
They were far too kind to her, far more than she was deserving of. Here she was, clearly a suspicious individual for having hidden her features as a woman and being otherwise deceptive--and they were welcoming, sincere, and assuring. Why? For what purpose was she being given such courtesy? The worlds they’ve visited and the people within were generally cruel and full of terrible situations. While she held the spark of optimism in her heart, was she deserving of such wonderful moments like these when even now she was forced to refrain from certain truths with Lily and Marcus? No, she couldn’t think of it like that. This was for their own benefit. If they knew too much then danger would be at their door--and not only due to Kayn’s possessive nature. The Empire full of their other Ordinals, any wayward hunters looking for an exotic prize, or even the Order itself...all of them would be looking for her. If she reveals too much it not only endangers her and Kayn, but it would implicate her hospitable hosts as well. A flare of protectiveness activates within her, one she keeps to herself silently. She would keep quiet on such sensitive topics for everyone’s safety, but it didn’t lessen the guilt nibble away at her mind. Once given her drink per the request of minor additives, Sona would find herself far too engrossed in her tea and the fabrics to notice her hosts scamper off towards the slats obscuring the window. If she weren’t so relaxed, perhaps she’d have sensed Kayn’s presence nearby. After all, he gave off an aura all his own; a personal storm which follows in her footsteps. As it was, she drank at her tea and sifted through the materials, finding difficulty in selecting a color. After all, she had no autonomy for what she could wear within the Order, and being out in space didn’t hold many opportunities for an expansive wardrobe either. They weren’t things she ever thought obtainable, and while she’s trying to have faith in a future, she is still sweetly ignorant over something as simple as style and fashion. “I trust your judgement, Lily,” Sona confesses with a bashful grin, quiet laughter accompanying her words. “I’ve never been in a position to be so fashionable...so I’m uncertain what colors or materials suit me best,” If she could be more honest, she would remark how she’s only ever worn emerald tones until recently, but even that may betray too much detail. Instead, she holds her tongue and runs a hand across the fabric laid across her shoulder. “I like this one...I think it will be lovely to go with this if you think it suits me best. That way whenever I wear it I can think of this time we’ve spent together.” It was the truth. Not only was Lily more discerning with fashion than she was, but if the decisions were influenced by her and Marcus, then it gave Sona yet another reason not to forget their kindness or the evocative lesson to be had in all this. She was her own person, she needn’t live perfectly under Kayn’s heel--she was her own woman with her own power.
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virtuosin · 2 years
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ofshadowreaping​:
War… It was a word that waned his smirk with such ease.  Dropped to an even line, then down slightly into a small frown.  Each word she spoke felt like a weight dragging his own past into the present.  An orphan as well?  Being shipped across the sea.  Golden hues fell.  Rested against his lap briefly before finding themselves back upon those beautiful cerulean orbs. 
With the heaviness of the subject momentarily lapsed, he couldn’t help but laugh a bit at her reaction to his rather uhm.. bold remark.  At least she took it well.  Mostly.  He’s probably spooked women on a few occasions with being so blunt, but the man was confident.  Could he be blamed for expressing as much?
As she began her ascent to her feet, he would follow, grabbing hold of Rhaast to rest the large scythe across his shoulders.  “Sona Buvelle.” He repeated, noting it to memory.  What was with that weird instrument, though?
Eugh.. It’s so edgy.. Like you–
He forced a smile, intentionally accidentally bumping the large weapon against the tree.  “Oh so the evil doer gets to accompany the fair lady, huh?”  He joked, gripping gnarled fingers tight around the grip of the scythe, “I suppose I could try to squeeze you into my busy schedule.  Guess I’ll just–”  One hand comes forward like he’s holding an invisible scroll, “–have to put off giving all the kids sugar before their bed time.”
You disgust me…
“You’ll just have to make up for it.”  He teased with a light wiggle of eyebrows.  Hey, he sure wasn’t complaining.  She was certainly someone he’d have no objection to keeping company.  Or warm… for that matter.
“Anyway–”  A light, dismissive flick of a few fingers off the weapon’s shaft, and Kayn was spinning to face the direction of Galrin, “Suppose since you shared something about yourself, it’d only be fair I do the same.”  A cheeky grin, “Besides, y’know.. the obvious.”  Like what he blurted out before.
“You’re right I’m not from here.”  A couple steps started their journey together.  One he hoped would end on a good note.  Perhaps learn something new about the world to the west of his homeland.  “I was an orphan as well.  But my Master found us, and took us under his wing.  Y’know.. To be terrible people.  Pillaging homes, and all that.  Evil doer things.”
It was entirely too amusing to be in his company. How was it that he could be the opposite in nature to her and yet be so enthralling for her? She, who practices decorum and handles herself gracefully. He, who gallivants with a cocky grin and is as impolite as a child might be. He is crass to her manners, playful to her restrained, and devious to her properness. One might think they’d be oil and water--completely incompatible and unable to hold a proper conversation. But there was some commonality between them, wasn’t there? A spark so to speak. Although not plainly obvious, the pair held a unique connection between them. Was it their ideals, how they are both children from war, or their love of the First Lands? It’s uncertain. Perhaps it’s all of that and more. As it was, Sona would follow suit and turn to follow Kayn, as if a silent pact was made; they were traveling together--for now. Instead of humoring all the jests--as tempting as it was--she remains quiet and nods along as he reveals more of himself. So, Kayn wasn’t from here. There was a certain satisfaction in having her suspicions confirmed. It meant her observational skills were still phenomenal despite being on ‘vacation’ so to speak. Some might get sloppy while away from their duties, but being observant was a trait of hers outside of the courts. A skill necessary for survival. “I see,” Glancing away, he might catch a glimpse of a smile lingering on her lips. It was melancholic, empathetic. They were both orphans, and while it was a comfort to know they had an understanding of each other on that level, it meant they both equally suffered because of their origins. It is a pain that non-orphaned children will never comprehend. Likewise the love and security to be had when a new family is found. For Sona, that was the Buvelles. For Kayn, it would appear to be this’ Master’ of his. “I have to wonder how terrible this Master of yours is if he raised you to save lost children from wild game,” When her profile turns to face him again there’s a more mirthful grin on her lips. A tinge of playfulness curling at the corners. “I am sure he is the most vile of men to have fostered you and given you a new purpose.” Her tone was light, not sarcastic necessarily but gently teasing all the same. Arms looped behind her back as she wandered forward beside Kayn, though her footfalls would be silent. As if she weren’t walking at all, though he’d have to look under her dress to confirm that. Meanwhile the etwahl was floating just behind her like a companion animal, and while it had no eyes its aura was protective, as if keeping watch from behind. “I’m quite terrible myself,” Sona remarks, standing a bit taller as she confesses a personal thought--one she hasn’t uttered aloud to another before. Her smile darkens just slightly, as if disappointed with her earnest statement. “I hide my true nature and deceive those around me into thinking I’m nothing more than a mute girl with a penchant for the arts. Only a small handful of people know of my abilities and aspirations.” A slight grimace crosses her lips but she continues. “I lie even to those I care for, never revealing my magic, my voice, my feelings. If I wasn’t so driven with purpose I might be reckless enough to reveal everything to them...but I can’t. For their sake and for the sake of my dream coming true.” Shaking off the shadow of guilt, she peers over at Kayn with her own brand of deviances, a toothy smile now gracing her lips. “I am a fair lady, but I suppose I fit right in with an evil doer such as yourself. What mischief we’ll get into while are on the way to our destination. Let’s hope we don’t cause too much trouble.”
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virtuosin · 2 years
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sadistic-thresh​:
She was astute.  An admirable, and tactful manner by which to proceed into inquiry.  He had thought to warn her not to ask questions she didn’t want the answers for, but the approach she takes in her first inquiry shows a level of care, and intelligence.  Another nod to the fact that she was a being that would take patience to unravel and unlock the true potential buried within her.
Another small pull drags part of his lips up.  Amused, and perhaps even a note of respect for the way she handled herself.  Moreso, for the whole of this encounter thus far.  And even the exchange she and Bort had shared, albeit brief while he was outside, condemning the group of Mageseekers to an eternity of damnation.  Lantern brimming with new life from so many who feared the very things that gave them existence to begin with.
“Where once I called home.. is no longer what it use to be.” Thresh offered in an even tone.  A whisper of chill behind the baritone carried from his lips.  “Paradise comes at a cost.. Doesn’t it, Sona?”  A feint to shine brightly as a perfect society where they hid their darkness under wings of persecution.  He mused lightly at the thought of it all.  Caged away.  Trapped.  Locked down in the basement filled with ancient archives, and things not worthy of his attention.  They couldn’t strip him as the mageseekers had the Mages of Demacia.  Suffocated.. Demands from Kings and the hierarchy to see their streets rid of anything imperfect or not to their standard.
And then to be trapped upon the Isles, unable to venture free, to experience things as he once was – Well.  Hands fold; digits weaved into one another atop bent knee as he studied her.  Perhaps that is what she needs to truly unlock her potential.  A taste of freedom…
Flesh… is a prison.. after all..
Calculating orbs dance between vibrant cerulean gaze.  Unwilling to break that long stare all the while he spoke, and for as long as she might study him as he does her.  Drinking her in for all that she may entail.  Deeper than skin, and bone.  Down to the very core of her being; her soul.  The soft structure of her gaze.  Her small nose, soft features, and the lines tracing down her neck to meet center of her collar bones.  How thin and frail her body appeared to eyes that had seen skin torn from flesh countless times, and the look of death born in their gaze.  Met by cruelty, and merciless confidence that he stood for them to bow.
A pull drug his lips ever so slightly upward.  “You do not appear to hail from this land.”  He observed openly.  “It begs to question why you remain if its people seek to harm you.”
There is something in the way he converses that is reminiscent of her long hours among the council members. He is tact, favoring brevity over drawn out details. She was the same for the most part, at least when in the presence of normal company. It wasn’t as if she weren’t practicing her manners which were so ingrained into her character, nor was she being particularly prejudice towards this foreigner. Beyond that, there was something...inexplicable about him. As if his gaze penetrated beyond what could be seen--as if his eyes were diving into her body, into her life story. Sona would never claim she was easily read by anyone, for years of being disingenuous for sake of survival have hardened her to a degree to such prying. And yet, in the presence of this man, she feels a faltering. In the face of such a discerning eye, how far would misconstrued truths take her over genuine replies? And wasn’t there a sense of relief in being forthright with someone such as this? If nothing else, she needn’t fear him using such an advantage against her within Demacia now that his hands were stained red. With a silent exhale Sona would take time to study his features once more, reminding herself that this arresting scenario, while still dangerous in nature, was the perfect lure for such a curious creature as herself. And she could never resist the draw of a well shrouded mystery. “We are similar, then,” She quietly replies, eyes lowering to focus on her hands which idled in her lap, fingers woven through the others. “I have also lost a home which ceased to be what it once was. Mm, and paradise--” Eyes wince just slightly, and while any other might not notice the flicker, surely this observant man would. “--I believe that is an apt statement for history as a whole, is it not?” Finally she would peer back up at him, a coldness at the edges of her gaze. But it is not at him. It is past him--a look tainted by memories of a previous life when she was younger and full of hope in a land before the invasion. “I hail from the First Lands--Ionia in the common tongue.” Sona confesses freely, deciding to favor authenticity over deceit. “As you can imagine, one imbued with my talents in a land which abhors magic might require a touch of deception to survive.” Another pause, and once more do her cerulean eyes retreat to calloused digits. It takes time for her to consider her response to his inquiry. Not for lack of an answer--no, this has been a question which has plagued her since being taken in by the Buvelle family. The answer has been with her for years, but in what way can she convey it to someone else? It is such an evocative topic for her, so would he comprehend the drive behind her reply when it is so personal in nature? “It is because they seek to harm me that I stay,” She perks back up, as if revitalized with courage when she finally broaches the discussion. A vibrancy takes hold in her cerulean gaze, a light reignited not from the carriage but from within. A determination buried deep inside her soul. “I can do little in helping change these lands if I am shackled, so I maintain the appearance of a mundane noble, playing the part of diplomacy so I may plant the seeds of rebellion. Tactfully, carefully, I intend to sway the hearts of the misguided for the sake of the oppressed and ostracized.” Lips grow thin as the resolve strengthens in her tone. “I have been blessed with this platform, and I shall use it to my fullest advantage.” Realizing only now that her fingers were tensely locked does Sona relax her posture. An emotional woman at her core, even if she wears such a perfect façade. And yet, she has decided to loosen that control over herself. Only a touch. With him, she can be a bit more forthright. It goes against her survival instincts to be so transparent, but when he speaks as though he see through her down to her bones, the freedom with honesty is too tantalizing for Sona to ignore.
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virtuosin · 2 years
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"You enjoy the rain?"
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"I do. Its sound is therapeutic, the earth grows vibrant as it nourishes itself with the fresh water, and the pleasant scent of wet dirt is always reminiscent of my youth in Ionia." She hums softly, as if lost in thought for but a moment. "I suppose the artist in me can't help but be drawn in by the dreary weather as well, as shocking as that may sound coming from one such as myself."
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virtuosin · 2 years
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“Things, not people.”
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"I should hope you do not seek to dehumanize with that statement, for it is the people why we live. It is the need for one another why we suffer and revel." Sona's voice would carry itself into his mind unbidden although her cadence is saccharine in nature. Empathetic. Cerulean eyes flicker the briefest moment before she continues with a calloused hand folded over the other. "Things are things, but people? They bear a heart and soul that connects us all together."
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virtuosin · 2 years
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“Welcome back love.” Kengou smiled, kissing her forehead lovingly.
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"I've been gone for so long...I nearly lost sight of what would await me upon my return," A soft set of laughter escapes her, one laden with cracks of anxiety, exhaustion. "Perhaps I feared it would be gone by the time I made my way back, and the fear of such a reality can be quite destructive to the soul. I'm only grateful that those fears were unfounded." With a soft hum of approval, a gentle kiss would be placed against his cheekbone, ruby lips curling against his skin. "Thank you, Kengou..."
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virtuosin · 2 years
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( Welcome back, and we wish you all the best in whatever rough spot you're going through. Be well, and stay safe! )
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Thank you so much that means everything to me ;w; I've felt awful for not being here and BELIEVE ME it's not a lack of desire but I've just been in a bad place...but I'm gonna try to come back! I love Sona so much and she's such a comfort character for me. In a real corny way she gives me courage and strength? Like, I feel as though she's a really empowered woman and during times when I'm feeling weak or small writing Sona helps me build back up my confidence and hunger for life. She's a very sweet girl and inspiring muse like that ;w; but thank you...all of you. I'm sorry for being so absent but I'll do my best returning and making it through this part of my life
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virtuosin · 2 years
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anon love AWAY! *showers you and your muse with flowers (and if you’re allergic, you get a cute paper flower instead)*
okay so i know i've been like dead for a couple months but THANK YOU WHOEVER SENT THIS BECAUSE I'M LITERALLY GOING THROUGH THE WORST PHASE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE AND THIS MEANS A LOT TO ME--
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virtuosin · 2 years
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A voice trails the darkness of the forest around them. Clear, yet strange. Deep and crisp. Threatening.. but calm. It reaches out from behind her at first, "You are not unlike him." It changes direction, rippling in from the opposite side if she turned to look at all. "I understand now." If she turned back, she would be greeted by a tall, lean man clad in light armor, and weaponry seated upon his forearms. Respectfully distanced with red eyes focused, "Lady Sona Buvelle." (from shadowxmaster)
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"'Him?'" A voice would echo across the expanse of his mind, but not within the distance between their physical forms. Magic, but it should come as no surprise for this individual. An Ionian knows another Ionian. Beyond that, it would seem he knows far more about her than merely her lineage. The way he muses his thoughts aloud is like he's studying her, but for what purpose she couldn't say. For this 'him'? Who was 'him'? Curious yet was the way he prowled about her, shapeless as the shadows seeking to consume her. Poised, Sona remains without a blemish of fear on her features despite knowing the lethality capable of an individual such as this. It's only when the man stands tall and greets her proper does Sona fold her hands before her and offer a courteous nod of acknowledgement. Now, with eyes studying his figure, she feels a tinge of concern well up. These features are reminiscent of rumors she's heard of. And the way he manipulates the shadows...it leaves her curious. Dangerously curious. For a moment her mind flickers to a certain scythe wielder but she quickly brushes it away to focus on the man before her. "A pleasure to be acquainted with you, sir...if you'll pardon my boldness, I would ask if you're the one that's been mentioned to me before," She pauses, brows knitting just gently enough to be noticeable from the distance. There is no hostility in her pinching brow, but the pulling of strings as she pieces together her assumptions. If this was who she thought it was then she ought to be safe. Well, as safe as one can be in the company of assassins. "...are you the Master I have heard of?"
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virtuosin · 2 years
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{{  I like how I think squinting at my drafts will improve my efficiency in writing--  }}
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virtuosin · 2 years
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{{  Sorry again for my absence. Going through a really heavy, formative moment in my life. It’s hard and terrifying but know I wish to return. I might try to write again soon in hopes of finding a distraction. You’re all wonderful for sticking around. Thanks so much for your patience y’all.  }}
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virtuosin · 2 years
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