I paid the price and own the scars
why did we climb to fall so far ?
A battle cry echoes across the lands, an angry whisper stirring tempests in its wake, a mournful scream shattering the peace of the world freshly disturbed with the reawakening of the gods. Gods to whom Moira does not pray. Gods that she knows little to nothing about. Gods that now control every aspect of her life.
Briefly she wonders, pulling questions from the sky like snowflakes in the winter, grasping at threads in hopes to find the tapestry has finished itself, curious to know what should happen now that the Regime of the Night Court has fallen. It is only the seductive whisper painting murals when her eyes are closed, the trickle of a voice tickling grass beneath her feet, that draws her nearer. In her ears, her heart thunders more loudly than the dying embers. Ash floats through the air, and the mountain pass feels more like a burial ground than the gateway into a world of splendor and wonder. Through the pain and loss and suffering the people have endured, she knows that Denocte - a resplendent gift in all its glory - must continue. From mountaintops on high she's returned, trekked through a valley of death and ash, a land of destruction and sorrow, into the arms of ember and flames. It licks hot against her feet, touches idly upon her sides as a lover would in the night, and through every inch of the fallen forest she burns. Moira Tonnerre felt the call from Caligo like the thrumming of her heart, the reverberations settle in her bones as though to call her home at last.
How long, she muses, has it been since a place felt like a home? The Estate has always been the one location that held her heart, for it held Estelle, the Twins, Eluoan. Now? Now Estelle is surely missing, Eluoan would have found a new pupil, and the Twin... Only the spirits knew where the Twins have gone in the year she's been away. Faces flash as vibrant as the days she met them, Eik, Caine, Bexley, Seraphina, Asterion. Her heart cringes, falters, as the twilight creature appears as though an apparition. He took to her like the sea to the shore, yet there is a distance, a canyon separating them, that even she cannot cross. But it is not for these people that she now travels back through the great gates whos maw is open like a dragon's, whose gates are flung open for any to prance in and enter and destroy all that she is learning to love, it is not for those faces that she approaches the Court.
Through the pass she goes with no fear, only determination that will match any wildfire, any tsunami, any hurricane in force and strength, painted upon her carmine face. It is not a smile she wears as amber eyes look into the waters - waters where she met Raum. Waters that are so still they could hold death in their hands and even he would not know that it is there he would slumber and meet his end, waters that show lies and dreams all with just a flick of your eyes, waters that bring peace and healing and the possibility of a future. Sorrow should be plain upon her face for all that will no longer be - the Gypsies disappearing in the smoke, the Regime taking to their dragons and riding the great beasts into an unknown future, all those hearts who no longer laugh from Reichenbach who she never truly got to know. And yet, when she sees her reflection it is only that of a woman who will break and bend and burn and rise again for the sake of a people that were not given a choice.
For she knows what it is to be chained. She's felt the flames as they licked her skin. Moira's been trapped and lied to, deceived and broken, and through it all she withstood.
If she were louder, if she were a lion, a battle cry would be heard. But she is neither loud nor a lion, and there is a subtlety to the phoenix that is soothing like the waters lapping against your skin, like your mother's hand as she strokes your forehead and sings you to sleep. At last she arrives to see vacant streets and hollow eyes. Permeating the air is not the joy, the music, the laughter and incense she has come to know, learned to be fond of, but instead a sullenness has settled. What should happen now, surely they all are wondering. To those who she sees, she smiles as though the moon and stars all radiate from her, she gives them the sun when there are storms, silently she promises to do all she may to help bring the light back in tomorrow.
Four others are there - horsemen of the apocalypse riding in to offer what she knows she may never be able to give, but she wants to. Who is to say she will be caged once more - Caine spoke once, telling her how her family is here no longer, how strong she can be without them, she did not know then how much she would cherish his words now, let them pound through her veins with the drumming of her heart. She looks to the goddess gowned in black, emblazoned with starlight that puts Moira to shame. However, this is no beauty contest, and even if it were the Tonnerre girl would be under no impressions she would stand a chance of winning. As she looks to Bexley her courage falters for but a moment - the lion girl would be much more suited to a crown, but she does not know the Court and how to heal the brokenhearted. Has she felt the same pains, lost the same family?
"Caligo," she says, eyes tracing over the night the goddess dons. Every nuance, every corner, every black hole that draws her in. After a pause, after she catches her breath and brings her harried thoughts together, she dips her head low and smiles. It is glowing, gentle, and perhaps more loving than the one Eluoan taught her to wear. "My friends," Moira includes, looking to each who is there. They are all so brave for coming, and she cannot help but feel grateful for how others can be so giving. "I cannot say that I am a native here, nor that this is where I saw my life leading me when I was young. There was but one goal that has been a constant, a northern star: to heal. I have seen the mighty fall and felt death hold my hand, I know sorrow and loss and I see people in need.
These people, your people, and...perhaps they are my people, too - we ache as one, we feel as one. With the loss of our Regime our hearts are broken. In these times, we need no warrior, no prince charming, no politician. They need to know they are safe, they are cared for, and they will be loved." With that, she shifts, looking to the grounds as though it held her future, as though she could read how Caligo would smile or shun her in equal measure, how she would judge her with those blazing eyes, with a heated stare that would melt her into nothing but water to nourish the plants and disturb the pebbles. "I care for these people as I do my own family, perhaps more, for they are teaching me so many new things. How to love, how to be loved, how to know my own worth. Caligo," she breathes, flames blazing once more in her soul upon an alter, eternal and unending. "I am not raised with gods and goddesses, you do not walk among my family. I never learned to pray, but I learned to fix what was broken. If you let met, if you see fit, I would like to learn to pray with them...with you, and I would like to help mend their broken hearts so we may all bring the light of Denocte back into the eyes of every citizen. If you deem me fit to help, I will help them swell like the tide to meet the sky, and together we shall rise as one, united, once more under your banner with faith renewed and hope kindled in our hearts." Humbly she dips her head once more, silence settling like a lion upon a lamb, a cloak on her shoulders, wrapped tightly around her throat. Will she be spurned for her words, laughed at and mocked? Already she knows how to handle the comments, the rudeness - it has been a test of patience and endurance for the entirety of her life, one more on the pyre would not be a difficulty. All she knows now is that her patience must last longer, for a decision must be made sooner or later, and more may yet come.
code: e-cho; image: unsplash
we made our love out of stacks of cards
About the RPer
E-cho
21
I have, but it's been a while! There have been a few herds on other sites that I've run or helped run. I adore seeing people get involved and coming up with new things so that we can all grow together. I like plots and actionand love pf cuddlepuddle guys?and things to bring people together which was a lot of fun to plan out and enact ! On the flip side, I can come off a bit strong and try too hard to make everyone smile. Sometimes I have to learn how to bend and where to draw my line which I think I'm getting better with being surrounded by such positive people who make me feel at home.
Passive vs Active magic is definitely something newer to me being as I've only been on sites with just magic and tiers of them. I think it's a really unique aspect here that really adds to the site and gives us goals to work towards ! On top of that, the marriage bond with the gods is just the cutest and coolest ? Being a person who is fond of happily ever afters and raised on Disneynot even sorry, I really like that the gods can bless a marriage and make it even more dynamic and interesting between the characters. Plus, who doesn't love planning a nice ceremony to see those we love happily joined together??or in-laws coming to battle
General Information
Moira Elizabet Tonnerre
5 [Year 497, Spring]
Female
Heterosexual
Arabian
15.2
Appearance
https://sta.sh/21l0m423filn
Hailing from a sprawling family of Arabian descent, Moira is no different in build from the many who inhabit this tree. From her head to her toe she exhibits the breed's finer qualities. A beautifully dished head holds large, intelligent eyes rimmed by dark, kohl lashes and glisten and gleam coolly with any who see her. They are a welcome sight, their faint yellow glowing something of an intrigue, and hold no judgements until one's true colors shine through. Delicate nares quiver when in the presence of someone new, shaking as she breathes them in and pushes them out once more. Teardrop shaped ears tilt curiously upon her diadem, often buried in the masses of thick, wavy ebony hair that is braided and piled into various buns atop her neck. It is a neck that arches ever so elegantly, long and curving it draws the eye down to her sloping shoulders and barreled chest. Curvy lines of her body are easy to follow back. She's found to be a slender woman, petite among her family when her wings are excluded. It looks like even the slightest breeze might knock her over and uproot her from where she stands, but those who are wise know it takes much more than that.
Moira is the skies at dusk set on fire. Burt hues of orange and flaming reds culminate upon her like she was cast from the heavens themselves. A darker burnt sienna bathes her face and was daintily dipped upon her feet so that she is as contrasting as night and day. Upon her back and knee joints a paler orange sorbet was dribbled like starlight, as bright as the day is long. Twinkling from various points along her body, bright glowing patches like starlight flicker and play with one's attention. However, nothing compares to the swanlike coloration that is her only marring feature, much to her family's disdain. White is painted about her eyes like a mask, it arches over her left shoulder and slashes over her chest - a reminder of her purity and her father's transgressions. Carefully the pale eggshell white dances up onto her left wing, ending shortly after intruding. Her wings are as glorious as she - bright flaming red with orange and yellow flickers in the light. They look like a streak of fire when she soars through the sky. A shooting star, a true sight to see!
EXTRA: the glowing portions on her body are inactive until the magic can be obtained ! So for now they're just pretty yellow spots. ^_^
Personality
[+] loyal, clever, studious, tenacious, soft, caring
[-] brooding, secretive, jealous, resolute, irritable when tired
Moira Tonnerre is a captivating woman in looks alone, but that is not where she truly shines. Her intelligence is something to be rivaled, and many would say she should have taken the route and become a sage. In a way, she is, but her thirst is for that of the healing arts. As she grew from girlhood into an adult, her tutor instilled in her strong instincts of moral rights and wrongs. A creature of intrigue, she keeps to herself unless her trust is gained. Preferring the solitude of a sanctuary or infirmary, Moira is not one that is oft found in crowds. Silence is her savior, isolation her reprieve. She seeks quiet moments in her day to gather her wits once more, for being around others outside of her family so often exhausts the girl far more than she'd like to admit.
Such withdrawn tendencies also keep the sun child from unwanted attachments. Having been raised unwanted by the majority of her family only to have them change their opinion has taught her to be reclusive and careful of those she keeps in her company. Estelle is her only constant, and one she has proven to be quite selfish with and selfless for. It is quite possible that Moira would throw herself on a fire for those she loves, but heaven should have mercy on any who betray the fiery woman. While she's caring and a rather loyal woman to those who have earned her trust and respect, should they ever turn their backs she can be a vindictive creature possessing every terrible thought known to womankind.
When not in the company of others or tending to wounds, Moira finds herself curled close to the nearest source of heat be it another breathing entity or bonfire with a book in hand. She carries a notebook which she's always scribbling something or another in. Having come from a woman of the arts, Moira herself inherited something of the ability and enjoys drawing. None of those drawings have ever seen the light of day, nor does she intend for them to do so. As stubborn as she is, it would be a miracle just to get her to genuinely smile at a joke, even if she found it unerringly funny.
History
YEAR 497
Deemed Moira Tonnerre upon the day of her birth, she was something unexpected in the family. Her mother, her sweet, naïve mother, was the victim of something that wasn't quite love, but a sort of infatuation. She'd loved the arts and excelled in them; an extremely talented woman who caught the eye of many a suitor not for her beauty, but for her talent. Something of a renowned creature in the places they lived, Gizelle was a prized possession. Coming from a decent family, it was her choice to whom she would be auctioned off to, for she was under no illusions this was anything but that -- which would provide the best for her family to move up in the world. And so, when M. Tonnerre came about, she found herself enchanted with him. He was Apollo himself; a burning Adonis that lit her world on fire. She was a swan beside him; so pure and lovely a winged creature. And even though she could soar among the clouds, Anselme Tonnerre grounded her as no other could.
In a turbulent sea where she had been drifting, he was the lighthouse that brought her home. So they were married quickly, and Gizelle was brought into the luxurious world of the sprawling Tonnerre's. They were a well-to-do family of the upper rings in society, and their numbers were many. The marriage was not what the Tonnerre's would have chosen, for none of their ancestors had wings, and now this blight was brought upon them. Still, he was a favored child, and from his union only happiness would be seen to all those outside of the walls that surrounded them. Lust turned to something of passion, and soon Gizelle was well on her way to giving birth to the starlet that would be Moira.
- spring
She came in screaming as any healthy child would and was just as brilliant as her father. Much to the Tonnerre's dismay, the inkling of wings sprouted from her petite shoulders, and a cheek was turned from the start. Despite those who shunned Moira, Gizelle and Anselme loved her fiercely. A gift from the fates, Gizelle would whisper over and over. It was from them - the moirai - that Moira was given her name. Traditionally, the Tonnerre's gave French names to their children. After all, when in Rome one does as the Romans do. It was another mark on the stick, a notch that would follow Moira until the day she was cast out.
Moira grew quickly and with grace. And by six months old, she'd become fast friends with her cousin, Estelle. Estelle Tonnerre was the embodiment of what the family wanted and adored in the physique. No finer pairing had come close to her, Moira would hear her aunts and uncles whispering. Even their matriarch, Moira's great grandmother, smiled on Estelle. So for the two of them to become friends was ghastly. Yet this opened their eyes to the gem that Moira was. It is said that the rarest flowers blossom in the face of adversity, and how she bloomed for all to see! Physically, Moira was pristine with the hazy early morning skies imprinted upon her skin during the summer fires lighting it brightly. A single patch of ivory flowed upon her chest and over her left wing. Such blemishes were ignored for the personality that shone within.
Where Estelle embodied the physicality of a Tonnerre, Moira was a Tonnerre through and through. She had not been spoiled, yet still she carried herself with such pride and dignity. Every movement was soon watched, and her generosity and spirit shone through. It was her attentiveness that won out in the end, for Moira was a brilliant pupil. In their classes, she excelled above many of her cousins and was something to be mentioned in passing. Always a secretive half smile lit her young face, and soon enough she was the prized jewel of the Tonnerre family just as Gizelle had been to her own parents.
YEAR 498
- spring
Having survived the first winter which had taken many a child when she was younger, Moira went through the ceremony with Estelle to become a true part of the family. From blood to blood it was taken and given. Anselme and Gizelle could only stand on the sides and watched as Moira's shoulder was cut, bleeding profusely, and Myriam (a distant relative) stepped forth to bear a matching cut upon her unmarked shoulder. Their blood mingled together in the dirt, and once more when the wounds were cruelly pushed together so that there was an ebbing and flow as they mixed within. This was not what Moira remembers. It is the process after that struck her curiosity and holds it still.
A healer entered then, and each child that withstood the trials, that bore the blood and true mark now, was healed as any of their ilk should be. He was a kindly man, if not holding himself back. The easy movements with which he swayed between the children and donors caught Moira's attention, and then those bright amber eyes followed his energy flow as light glistened from the cuts. He came upon her like a dark ghost, a plume of smoke and shadows, only to meet her inquisitive gaze with a chilling silver one. Almost equally as intelligent as his own, she stepped forward as the others hadn't, boldly removing her hair from the afflicted area and offering freely for him to see. No ghosting of an expression crossed his face, but there was respect in those flashing eyes as he dipped his crown down and blew upon her skin. Once more bright light poured from the man tending her, focused on the cut to seal and hold in that which she would treasure forever. The angel-sent child watched as sinews and fibers first began to knit themselves together once more, and then stared harder as the skin healed over and only a faint pockmark was left as a testament to her trial.
From that moment forward Moira knew she wanted to follow in the path of a healer. Estelle, on the other hand, came forward and accepted her mark as well, but was much more disgusted. While she did not faint from the blood, she was appalled and chose the path of a courtier instead. A life in the lap of luxury, the two were opposite in every way, yet seemed to fall together over and over.
They made a pact that day upon entering the family - where one went the other would follow.
- fall
"Moira! Moira, you're so pretty, say you'll be mine?" The little boy smiled like a fool right in front of her. He was a distant cousin within the Tonnerre family; some great aunt or uncle's child that had been in the class ahead of her. He wasn't the most brilliant, but his silvery color reminded her of the healer so she'd been his friend, but commitment wasn't something that Moira was used to. She'd raised her brows then and looked over to Estelle. Her friend smirked and stepped forward. "Hey, shut up kid. Moira doesn't like you okay? So you can go now." "Oh, it's you Estelle. You don't speak for Moira, so don't. I asked her, not you. Stupid girl." He'd turned back to Moira then, stepped closer and whispered gently "One day, Moira Tonnerre, you'll be my wife ! You better believe it."
"No." Vacant eyes swam over the boy. "Leo isn't it? I'm sorry, but I'm not interested." She'd kissed his cheek then, tasting the single tear that had escaped, but watched as determination settled over the harsh planes coming in as the boy grew into a young man. What good would he really be in her quest to ascend in their family? Nothing, really. Her mother mourned her refusal, and her father sent a formal apology to Leo's father. But Moira knew he would make an appearance in her future, and it was a delicious challenge she looked forward to when the time came.
More propositions came, and one by one they were all turned down. Estelle was Moira's only constant, and Moira was Estelle's northern star. Throughout the rest of the year they kept to themselves. Holed away in gossamer gowns and silk, the girls were as thick as thieves. It was a concern that the two didn't care to expand their circle outside of one another, but the girls were never bothered. They whispered conspiracies and had their own internal competitions. Estelle excelled in the physical aspects - the beauty of the pair, and Moira was the brighter of the two. She became a phoenix in their family. Reborn from the ashes of her mother's infatuation and cradled in the hands of love, Moira was what they wanted and presented for others to see. Many even pretended her wings weren't there - overlooking the blight for the better half of the girl.
She accepted the love that was only partially given as any gracious daughter of the Tonnerre's would.
YEAR 499
- early spring
Estelle was born first, turning two and thinking she ruled the world. From the sidelines Moira watched as her cousin pressed herself against men's sides, curling into their touch like a cherry blossom opening for the first time. She was still but a girl, yet she was learning the art of seduction. Her mother often scolded her, but Stelle didn't care. Always the supportive creature, Moira helped when the girl would come home puking, settling her stomach with focused precision and tucking her cousin in before anyone could find her. She'd developed a penchant for drinking when it wasn't healthy, and Moira was left to tend to the girl with few virtues left despite how the family was slowly beginning to turn their backs on her.
It wasn't Estelle's fault her parents just didn't seem to give her enough attention. Being the youngest of three other children was rough. It was something that Moira would never know, for the family's matriarch had long since decided that they were not to have another child. One winged abomination was enough, no matter how lovely Moira had become she was not to have any siblings. Their approval was something she sought without consciously doing so. What would it be like to have another of her own flesh and blood to call her own ilk? Of course, the Tonnerres were full of children at any given point. They were a sprawling entity that cherished family above all else. Any given year had three to ten children. But not every one of them chose to take on the Tonnerre name, or they were simply cast out and shunned.
She was lucky that had not been a decision forced upon her.
- summer
The time had come for apprenticeships to begin which mean that Estelle and Moira would be separated not only from one another, but also from their parents. Once deemed the black-sheep of the family, she was now their precious dove who showed much promise in the art of healing. Her natural curiosity and sharpness of mind gave her an edge over the others, and the silver man who had healed those at the ceremony the year before chose her to bring into his home and take under his wing. Eluoan Tonnerre was rather stoic and kept to himself.
Upon her arrival, he opened his home to Moira and introduced her to his family. His wife, a younger girl with pretty brown eyes, had passed the previous year. It was a tragedy that none spoke of, and even though she kept quiet, Moira mourned his sorrow when Eluoan would not. Still, he introduced her to the twins who were a year older than her. Two boys who were as striking as their father if not moreso with distant, calculating eyes and a penchant for keeping to themselves. It was them against the world, and Moira was reminded of her cousin who she was not to see for a year. Florence and Gael, no matter how distant, took a liking to Moira.
They gained her trust crumb by crumb, and soon opened up to her as well. They were to be the next doctors within the family, but they were allowed to remain with one another. It had always been that way. There were two types of people in the world: them, and then everyone else. Even their father struggled to tell them apart from time to time, and so they'd become bitter with almost everyone in the Tonnerre family. Any social gala was taken lightly and they did not interact. When they were to be presented to the family, they had gone yet shown no interest in the ladies presented to them for their pleasure. It was a mockery of what a Tonnerre boy should be.
Despite their oddities, Moira found herself rather fond of the twins as well. She learned their quirks as no one else cared to, and when they played a game to see if she could tell which was which, she mastered it. "You're not as clever as you think," she'd murmur behind half-lidded eyes with a faint smile. And as much as she was pleased, they were much moreso than Moira ever would be. Suddenly, their shell was fragmenting because the world outside was leaking in. She'd done what no other had. Moira had found some way to break through.
Florence and Gael stuck to her like glue, teaching her their tricks and everything they knew about the family. It was a lot to absorb, and proved more exhausting after her lessons with Eluoan through the morning. But she was an eager student and listened ardently, hanging on to every world the twins let slip. They liked her. It could be pushed so much to say that they even grew to love her, but neither would confess. Moira was much too focused. She was what they had been when her age if not more. A studious slip of a girl, she proved a rather lovely companion throughout the long nights.
It was in this manner that Moira passed the year. Lessons with Eluoan in the morning, visiting patients who were sick, checking on their matriarch to ensure optimal health, and then further studies with the twins after dinner. By now, it had become a routine that she was rather fond of.
YEAR 500
- winter.
It had been too long since Moira had seen Estelle. A year and a half had passed and her heart yearned for her. Snow was falling heavily outside and the young woman, now three and a sight to behold, Moira sat curled up in a great chair with her favorite book open on the arm. To her left, a glass of tea was steaming before the fireplace that was a dull roar. Its coloration matched the burning hue of her skin that was awash with reds and golds. Glimmering yellow eyes stirred as the tapestries wavered and the door was thrust open in the great hall.
Upstairs, Florence and Gael slammed out of their rooms to come racing down the staircase, barreling around the curves to gasp at the bottom. Eyes bulged out of their head at the silver woman who was bloody and in tatters before them.
"Estelle!"
A gasp was ripped from Moira's throat, her book forgotten on the armrest, eyes traveling over her dearest friend. Estelle was ruined. Hair frayed, split, in tangles, and cuts lining her body. Blood dripped from her flanks. Bite marks pocked her neck. Tears streamed down her face silently as her own silver eyes landed on Moira. Moira who had been unwanted from the start. Moira who had worked harder than anyone Estelle knew to surpass all expectations. Moira, her sole companion that had supported her and then abandoned her when they were to go off to train. Moira... Who was pristine in her scarf and mittens, running towards her. At last Estelle began to sob, shaking until she could barely stand, and threw herself on her cousin.
"I'm sorry," the silver woman panted, clawing at Moira's back as though that would make everything disappear. "I... I tried to resist. And then they were upset. Moira... Moira I can't stay. If they find out - no one can know! Don't tell them please, please Mo." As she shivered in Moira's embrace, Moira stroked her neck and looked to the twins.
They were frozen in place. "Get El please," was all she had to whisper, and the moisture in her own eyes was enough to thaw the twins who raced upstairs now, knowing their whole world was about to change.
Eluoan Tonnerre came at Moira's request. As emotionless as the day she'd met him, he took Estelle and knew she'd been soiled. A pitying glance was thrown towards Moira who couldn't meet his eyes. She knew... She knew that he would inform their matriarch and Estelle would be thrown from the family. Her badge of pride she'd received when but a year old would be cast from her skin and she would be unwelcome in these halls once more. Everyone knew this day was coming, but none wanted it for Moira.
Moira... The girl who would follow Estelle to the grave.
"Come on," her said at last, gently guiding Estelle towards their kitchen. There, he tended her wounds as Moira made porridge and cider. Carefully she held her cousin, wrapping her in blankets once Eluoan was finished, and holding her close to her heart.
"You're so foolish, Elle. So, so, foolish."
"I tried to write you," Estelle murmured at last, pain lacing every world, "but they would not send the letters. You are our angel-born. I am their demon-sent. Where I raze the crops, you sew seeds of goodness. Why me, Moira? Why did you choose me?!"
It was almost a scream that hit Moira, even as Estelle lashed out once more and slapped her across the face. Florence cringed, seeing red, and almost lunging at Estelle had he not seen the broken expression on Moira's face. "Because," she whispered, pulling her cousin closer, almost clinging to her as though Estelle were her lifeline, "you and I are two faces of the same coin. You are my heart, Elle." No sound escaped when the tears did, she did not allow herself to shudder and shake as her cousin did. Instead, her face went blank for a moment, withdrawing into herself. "When you go, Elle, you know I will come with. Where you go, I will go to."
The men heard her admission, but they knew it was pointless to stop her.
YEAR 501
- spring
Estelle was held under trial as any in the Tonnerre family was allowed. Found guilty of imbibing on another's flesh, one taken by another woman no less, her scar was burned from her shoulder. Her screams still haunt Moira in her dreams. When the judgement came and it was decided Estelle was Tonnerre no longer and would be leaving the compound, Moira stepped forward.
"I will go with my cousin," she said to a silent court. Dismay crossed them all. They did not wish to lose Moira - their Moira. "Estelle was mine first, and I was hers first before I was ever deemed Tonnerre. Without her, I am of no use. Please, allow me this, for with or without the Tonnerre permission I will leave you when my cousin goes."
"There will be those who follow you, Moira. There will be those to report back and others to protect you. Travel with care, sweet child of ours."
Their parting words meant little, she did not expect Florence or Gael to accompany them to the borders after they'd packed their belongings. Still, they did. Estelle was largely ignored outside of the angry glances the men threw her way. Moira had become theirs as well, more than the rest of the family's, and they weren't ready to let go yet. "We'll follow soon, Moira. Keep your eye on the horizon and look for us." Florence kissed her cheek, and Gael kissed her nose. They held her close for what could have been the last time, and held each other longer after Moira untangled herself and followed her cousin into the unknown.
- winter
They'd traveled much of the Summer and Fall. Estelle had fallen sick and so Moira went ahead to find herbs. Leaving with a heartfelt goodbye, her treasured notebook that held the part of her heart that Estelle did not possess was left in her cousin's care and off she set into the world. Snow met her at every corner, but she was determined to help her cousin. It is through a wood she stumbled upon Novus and into its rich new life!
YEAR 502
- Spring
Through the outskirts of courts she'd roamed until a mountain pass met her at the doors of the Night Court. It blocked her - or so it had for but a moment until the need to find a certain herb that would help Estelle pushed her forward. The other courts did not hold the plant she sought, but perhaps this new place would. It was within the borders of Denocte she found a people who did not just live, but thrived without ever having to leave their home. Their hearts captivated her, their art held her hostage, and so when she was found alongside the Vitreous Lake gathering her own store of medicine, she was invited in as a caretaker among their ranks. Graciously the Phoenix woman accepted, having been alone for so long and starved of small interactions.
- Summer
The summer brought with it many more adventures than her quiet spring, the time where she settled into her newfound home. It is during this time she met new faces, including Reichenbach, for the first time. They offered a new way of life, something exciting, something that stirred her heart and gave her wings to soar with. Caine was the first face who awoke her in the Library of the Night Court. He was a rather curious man who infuriated her beyond all measure, yet she found herself yearning to be nearer even when he was gone. Soon after, Asterion came into her life as sweetly and softly as the music at the Music and Art Festival they attended together later that season. Before the festival, however, a man of white and spots - Eik - came into her life and brought art and painting back into her heart where it was silenced for so long. Upon returning to Dusk once more with Eik, they went to the festival where Moira found a fond friend in a golden lion woman - Bexley, and another who was as lovely as her family in appearance, and hauntingly wise: Seraphina. Too long gone from the court, she returned to find a new friend once more, a sweet Pegasus mare named Aethelind that scared the daylights out of her with her wings. It is here she passed her days until the time when the Regime was called away just before the Fall leaves began to show their glimmering faces, and only then did she venture once more from Court to gather more herbs for the shelves in the infirmary, where she could be found when not lurking alongside the lake or reading up on new plants and old in the library's darkened corners.
Sovereign Questions
Passionate, protective, defensive, disbelieving, watchful
Where do we begin? Moira, darling Moira, was born the daughter of a passionate woman, an artist, a gypsy who sold her soul for a man and entered into a lustful, but not always loving, home and relationship. She taught Moira to sing and dance and smile, she showed her how to laugh and paint and love life. It is from her mother where she learned that all things have the potential of being beautiful no matter the exterior, that life is what you make of it, and through the toughest of times you can endure if you simply try. While her mother is a much changed woman, and Moira still has aspects of herself she has yet to come to terms with, she has brought a little bit of light into so many lives already. She loves with her whole heart once exposed, she feels with everything she has, she wears her heart on her sleeve despite her best efforts. Moira protects her family fiercely, and the memory of them even moreso. She was raised a lady into a society of judgmental people, but more than that she was raised as a healer. As such, it was not only her pleasure and pastime, but also her job to know and understand people, to be aware of what might be wrong before they ever realize what is happening. Moira is starting to learn who she wants to be and is finding facets of herself she never knew existed, and it is all thanks to finding a home, not just a house, within the NC. As such, she is extremely grateful and feels a connection to the people and a need to do what is right. She cherishes them more than she realizes and will do everything in her power to be sure that their happiness comes to fruition. I truly believe that Moira would move heaven and earth and even challenge the gods to see her court flourish and her family smile.
Fostering peace among not only the people, but other courts is always ideal. First, however, I think she would start from within - heal that which is there to help it grow and blossom and then invite others into the fold, to share in their wealth and nurture bonds of friendship between people. She wishes to help the Night Court heal, but also to bring back their music, their history, the richness of life that they offered to a wayfaring stranger like her. By no means is she, nor I, power hungry. I don't even know if Moira would grasp for it if it was dangled in front of her like a freshly baked pieand she loves her sweets, it's a problem. However, she wants to work to increase the emotional wealth of the people so that they may live a life that is full and welcoming and warm. Like the fire that guides you in the night, she will give them warmth and something worth living for, a home worth coming home to, and a family worth waking up to.
Moira is a firm believer in a person showing their true character and does not judge based upon first meetings. Like an onion, she'll peel away your layers until you make her cry when she reaches the center. Her court will be one of tolerance and acceptance above all else. She does not shame others for their choices in life unless they are truly evil. She does not force beliefs on others, for she would not force them upon herself. But she will protect her people from within and without by whatever means necessary.
I think Moira would want to set up many events. In her own family, there were ceremonies where children would be presented when they came of age, and I think she would very much like to start that up here. A grand event to celebrate the life of the children and welcoming them into their new adulthood. It would be like a ball, a coming-of-age thing like what was once done in all the Victorian novels. The kids will all celebrate it at the same time, one event to showcase them all and possibilities of their futures that they choose within or without of the court. Other courts would be invited with their youths as well under agreement of peace.
Another event she would love to see would be a cooking competition every now and then. Let's see who can come up with the best soup or the sticky bun that's the sweetest. Fostering a little competitiveness never really hurt anyone, and she would put in place small celebrations and events to push this within the community. From hosting baking competitions, to races, to having each Chairman elect someone from their field each season to be showcased and honored for their dedication and devotion to Denocte and Caligo, there would be many opportunities to join in on within the court !
Personally, I have a few designs to release as adoptsas many of the courtsand bring more people and art-lovers around!
Oh goodness, I'd just like to thank you all so much for this wonderful opportunity and wish everyone the best ! I've read through the auditions and my goodness I'm so grateful to be in a place with such lovely writers and wonderful human beings! Good luck to everyone, and thank you staff, for this amazing opportunity!
Cheers <3
xoxo e-cho
