Caelum
he just bought 'em home one day,
"Ain't they beautiful" he said
There was so much life in this place.
It seemed to breathe with its vibrancy. A bright glow that made the fae want to run for the hills, to hide back in Denocte, in the little slice of heaven she'd created for herself at her small teashop. She felt the need to slink away, to hide, to pretend she was safe, fine, securely alone delicately, and in the comfortable calm she had allowed herself to find quiet peace in. Instead, she was here, at this festival, feeling lost in a celebration that held the same energy as her own people. No, she wasn't lost or out of sort here. If she was honest, it made her mournful. It made her miss the way the fae were. It reminded her that her courts lay in ruin, the remaining summer fae trapped behind the safety of the winter court's barrier. It reminded her she was still hiding from accepting the magic that would bless her with the touch of Summer.
Her father once told her Summer required a champion.
A ruler. Someone to take charge. He'd told her as a little filly that he held the grasp of Summer in his hands, that he ruled it as King because Summer needed someone to take the reign. And one day, she'd embrace that same hold over Summer, rule over her as Queen, and when she did, she'd be like him. The champion, the Lady, is the embodiment of Summer. It was only natural for the leader of the summer court to be Summer itself, no? Caelum didn't want to imagine taking over what had been her father's. Did she even deserve it? Did she deserve any of the happiness she'd graced herself with?
She knew it was just the nerves trying to convince her.
Lu made it clear she deserved happiness too, was helping her see that with each day she passed. So, she forced herself to breathe, and she walked quietly into the room. It was odd, being in the Court of the sun. A part of her wonders, if she hadn't buried her most refined version of herself so long ago, would this have been the Court she'd chased, rather than taking residence in her beloved Denocte? The energies mirrored some of the purest forms of the Summer Fae, after all. And yet, she found comforts in the quiet, secretive nature of the Night. When had she become so much more like a Winter Fae? A brief smile flitted across her features at the thought, quietly finding a place to relax, to watch the interactions.
It's a ping of awareness.
An old effect from being in the spotlight so long ago, an instinctual awareness to when she had attention on her, so she knew when to present the perfect fae princess. She was being watched. She paused in her nibbling on fruit, her chocolate gaze sweeping the area to see whom it might be that was watching. Her eye finally stops on a dark form approaching her. Dark, but not quite dark enough to be the tall, dark and mysterious stallion she'd prefer to see parting the crowd for her. But she couldn't quite imagine Vikander in this crowd. His warm smile reassures her of his approach, and before the fae's own instincts can warn her of a shark's approach, it's smothered by the reassuring touch of his own magic.
It's a magic that seems eager to ensnare her.
But it is so foreign, so delicate, the fae isn't aware of it enclosing around her. Instead, she tilts her head with curiosity, quietly meeting his gaze with a cautious, small smile of her own. It's a guarded smile but a perfect, delicate one. A trained one. One meant for meeting a stranger within the courts, the castle she'd grown up in. His greeting is met with one of her own, tilting her head as ivory locks tumble in loose curls down the side of her face, the wild and chaotic waves at odds with her gentile outer appearance. Her regal stance. A perfect, delicate lady. "Hello." She replies, unaware as she lets that charm encourage her to trust him.
His following words have her feeling a touch of surprise.
A scholar from Denocte? Her smile turns a touch playful, and a rare spark lights up her eyes, warming them to a soft, enticing caramel hot chocolate hue, "A special interest in fae can be a perilous thing to have. One should be cautious of such . . . impish beings, you know. But yes, I am a fae. I am . . ." She pauses, hesitating, before visibly changing what she was about to say, "I am a member of the Summer Court." Still true, no need to let others know the Queen of Summer lives in Novus, in Denocte, "But, I am also medic of Denocte; so I suppose it must be a small world." She mused with a small smile.
A tiny world, yet she's surprised she'd not met him before.
As he introduces himself, the name doesn't ring any bells like she expected it to. She's built up quite the name for herself in Denocte. Owner of what was becoming a trendy tea shop. The best friend of Luvena, the mare courting the Queen of Denocte. A regular visitor to the Citadel. An extremely talented medic who was beginning to make all kinds of advancements in the manner of which to take medicine easier. She was curious if he would recognize her name, as she introduced herself, her words remaining polite, regal, elegant; "My name is Caelum, it's lovely to meet you Sebastien.."
How wrong she was if she had only known what he was really like.
But his charms were ensnaring her even as she stood conversing, her body language visibly showing a sense of relaxing in his presence. She turns to look at him more fully, directly; her gaze curious, "What brings you to the festival?" She asks, to keep a light conversation going, her wings fluttering a few times, dust shedding off; before they tucked themselves against her back, laying delicate and flat over the gossamer shawl she wore. Suppose that dust was to touch the mysterious stallion. In that case, he'd have a chance to feel its properties, the way it can revive the dropping f energy levels, soothe minor aches or pain, and any similar minor healing effects - should he need them.
Like the flowers that shed petals from her mane, it didn't turn off either.
But she kept much of herself, her identity, locked behind her kind, small smile. Secrets that remained quietly held at bay at the time, not yet trusting him for her mouth to run freely, remember to protect herself regardless of the odd sense of trust blooming for the stallion. But the longer she was staying in his company, the more that parasitic magic of his was latching onto her, encouraging her to trust, to be moldable to him, his words, his actions. Encouraging the fae to be receptive to the stranger she would have usually been cautious with.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Sebastien
Notes: I figured Caelum's had minimal experience with this kind of magic, and so it'd definitely have an effect she wouldn't be aware of, to watch for. And since it's about making others see him better, it's going to influence her to trust him xP Where that goes, we'll have to see - but I love this already, so so so much. Also, her eyes are very, very open for her emotions right now, so feel free to have him pick up on any of her emotional/body language cues. :P
It seemed to breathe with its vibrancy. A bright glow that made the fae want to run for the hills, to hide back in Denocte, in the little slice of heaven she'd created for herself at her small teashop. She felt the need to slink away, to hide, to pretend she was safe, fine, securely alone delicately, and in the comfortable calm she had allowed herself to find quiet peace in. Instead, she was here, at this festival, feeling lost in a celebration that held the same energy as her own people. No, she wasn't lost or out of sort here. If she was honest, it made her mournful. It made her miss the way the fae were. It reminded her that her courts lay in ruin, the remaining summer fae trapped behind the safety of the winter court's barrier. It reminded her she was still hiding from accepting the magic that would bless her with the touch of Summer.
Her father once told her Summer required a champion.
A ruler. Someone to take charge. He'd told her as a little filly that he held the grasp of Summer in his hands, that he ruled it as King because Summer needed someone to take the reign. And one day, she'd embrace that same hold over Summer, rule over her as Queen, and when she did, she'd be like him. The champion, the Lady, is the embodiment of Summer. It was only natural for the leader of the summer court to be Summer itself, no? Caelum didn't want to imagine taking over what had been her father's. Did she even deserve it? Did she deserve any of the happiness she'd graced herself with?
She knew it was just the nerves trying to convince her.
Lu made it clear she deserved happiness too, was helping her see that with each day she passed. So, she forced herself to breathe, and she walked quietly into the room. It was odd, being in the Court of the sun. A part of her wonders, if she hadn't buried her most refined version of herself so long ago, would this have been the Court she'd chased, rather than taking residence in her beloved Denocte? The energies mirrored some of the purest forms of the Summer Fae, after all. And yet, she found comforts in the quiet, secretive nature of the Night. When had she become so much more like a Winter Fae? A brief smile flitted across her features at the thought, quietly finding a place to relax, to watch the interactions.
It's a ping of awareness.
An old effect from being in the spotlight so long ago, an instinctual awareness to when she had attention on her, so she knew when to present the perfect fae princess. She was being watched. She paused in her nibbling on fruit, her chocolate gaze sweeping the area to see whom it might be that was watching. Her eye finally stops on a dark form approaching her. Dark, but not quite dark enough to be the tall, dark and mysterious stallion she'd prefer to see parting the crowd for her. But she couldn't quite imagine Vikander in this crowd. His warm smile reassures her of his approach, and before the fae's own instincts can warn her of a shark's approach, it's smothered by the reassuring touch of his own magic.
It's a magic that seems eager to ensnare her.
But it is so foreign, so delicate, the fae isn't aware of it enclosing around her. Instead, she tilts her head with curiosity, quietly meeting his gaze with a cautious, small smile of her own. It's a guarded smile but a perfect, delicate one. A trained one. One meant for meeting a stranger within the courts, the castle she'd grown up in. His greeting is met with one of her own, tilting her head as ivory locks tumble in loose curls down the side of her face, the wild and chaotic waves at odds with her gentile outer appearance. Her regal stance. A perfect, delicate lady. "Hello." She replies, unaware as she lets that charm encourage her to trust him.
His following words have her feeling a touch of surprise.
A scholar from Denocte? Her smile turns a touch playful, and a rare spark lights up her eyes, warming them to a soft, enticing caramel hot chocolate hue, "A special interest in fae can be a perilous thing to have. One should be cautious of such . . . impish beings, you know. But yes, I am a fae. I am . . ." She pauses, hesitating, before visibly changing what she was about to say, "I am a member of the Summer Court." Still true, no need to let others know the Queen of Summer lives in Novus, in Denocte, "But, I am also medic of Denocte; so I suppose it must be a small world." She mused with a small smile.
A tiny world, yet she's surprised she'd not met him before.
As he introduces himself, the name doesn't ring any bells like she expected it to. She's built up quite the name for herself in Denocte. Owner of what was becoming a trendy tea shop. The best friend of Luvena, the mare courting the Queen of Denocte. A regular visitor to the Citadel. An extremely talented medic who was beginning to make all kinds of advancements in the manner of which to take medicine easier. She was curious if he would recognize her name, as she introduced herself, her words remaining polite, regal, elegant; "My name is Caelum, it's lovely to meet you Sebastien.."
How wrong she was if she had only known what he was really like.
But his charms were ensnaring her even as she stood conversing, her body language visibly showing a sense of relaxing in his presence. She turns to look at him more fully, directly; her gaze curious, "What brings you to the festival?" She asks, to keep a light conversation going, her wings fluttering a few times, dust shedding off; before they tucked themselves against her back, laying delicate and flat over the gossamer shawl she wore. Suppose that dust was to touch the mysterious stallion. In that case, he'd have a chance to feel its properties, the way it can revive the dropping f energy levels, soothe minor aches or pain, and any similar minor healing effects - should he need them.
Like the flowers that shed petals from her mane, it didn't turn off either.
But she kept much of herself, her identity, locked behind her kind, small smile. Secrets that remained quietly held at bay at the time, not yet trusting him for her mouth to run freely, remember to protect herself regardless of the odd sense of trust blooming for the stallion. But the longer she was staying in his company, the more that parasitic magic of his was latching onto her, encouraging her to trust, to be moldable to him, his words, his actions. Encouraging the fae to be receptive to the stranger she would have usually been cautious with.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Sebastien
Notes: I figured Caelum's had minimal experience with this kind of magic, and so it'd definitely have an effect she wouldn't be aware of, to watch for. And since it's about making others see him better, it's going to influence her to trust him xP Where that goes, we'll have to see - but I love this already, so so so much. Also, her eyes are very, very open for her emotions right now, so feel free to have him pick up on any of her emotional/body language cues. :P
they're sittin' in the vase but now they're dead.
dead flowers.
art by bingo
