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vielle

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About vielle

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    Roleplay Wizard
  • Birthday April 18

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    Female
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    lost at sea
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    writing, reading, movies, music, dungeons & dragons, video games, outer space, the ocean, and other distant things.
  • Occupation
    college student

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    ourlachesism#6496

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  1. thank you reverie ball thread for taking all my reacts in one sitting, ilysb ❤️

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. vielle

      vielle

      @LikelyMissFortune i'd react to your very appropriate statement, but i'm out of reacts 😂

      i have experienced the whole spectrum of emotions throughout this thread, but mostly stressful crying; ily all ❤️

    3. LikelyMissFortune

      LikelyMissFortune

      Weep. Weep for the speed.

      Intensify.

      ’w’

    4. vielle
  2. vielle

    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    dahlia chamelis Dahlia smiles brightly as the girl’s tense shoulders relax a bit, her lips curving up happily as Lady Merida replies to her query. “Crops? Oh very little. I’m still an apprentice, so all my work currently is merely for practice.” As the Dali noblewoman continues to explain her crop studies with the members of her family, a spark of an idea curls itself into Dahlia’s mind. As much as she values her friendship with Nairne Hildebrand and his agricultural noble house, they have yet to procure an adept mage among their current generation. Perhaps it is time to seek more alliances with the other noble houses, and House Dali seems to be a most amiable benefactor, with their patronage of the teahouse’s fashion; a partnership with Lady Merida and the house’s other mages might prove to be satisfactory for all parties involved. “What about you, Miss Dahlia? How’s your tea house? I’ve never been, but Evienne simply loves you and your staff.” “Oh, the teahouse is simply thriving, my Lady! If you find any suitable time to visit, we’ll be very happy to accommodate you,” Dahlia responds cheerfully, when Luis Uldwar suddenly jolts, his face ashen. The growing disturbance in the background reaches her ears, and Niko steps closer to her yet again at the sight of Lord Uldwar moving through the room in a distressing manner. "Excuse me, I have to go check on my father, I think he might be in trouble." The young nobleman departs, leaving confusion in his wake. Glancing at Niko with a lost expression, Dahlia frowns as the man merely shrugs in reply. What on earth is happening? Suddenly, Lady Evienne and Lady Vesper make their reappearance to the group, pristine and grand even in the midst of troubling events. It is faintly amusing, the way the Mosgrove boy visibly heaves a sigh of relief at the Dali’s arrival; he couldn’t be that uncomfortable with herself and Niko, could he? “Miss Chamelis. I do apologize for our sudden departure after that odd incident. It’s certainly the first time I’ve ever been to a ball where someone groped my cape before asking for a dance.” Dahlia matches Lady Vesper’s sly grin with a knowing smile of her own. “It’s quite alright. We find ourselves in interesting circumstances all the time; a little diversion is nothing, really. I do hope the rather handsy incident hasn’t troubled you too much, however.” “There are some matters at hand that require my attention. Could any of you point in the direction that Luis went? I must speak with him.” Wordlessly, Niko raises a hand to point towards the doorway they had seen the boy exit, and Dahlia holds her tongue as she watches the Dali women exchange sharp whispers and a golden ring. Without further ado, the Lieutenant turns to trace the Uldwar’s footsteps, leaving Lady Evienne to send the two young nobles off together to dance with gaiety that seems a little bit too forced. "We should find ourselves partners as chivalrous as young Master Mosgrove here. Let's dance Miss Chamelis! Let's commandeer Marceu and Niko and dance!" Dahlia almost—almost!—laughs out loud at the sight of Niko’s pale face, but then Lady Evienne is suddenly jolted by the impact of her accidental collision with a young, dark-haired man. The stuttering that ensues is almost sweet, if not for the fact that the contents of his spilled glass must be soaking up the hems of their gowns by now. Judging from his attire, he doesn’t seem to be from Ursa Madeum, an idea confirmed with the man’s next words. "What I mean is, my name is Marik Cayne. I'm visiting from Taen." Dahlia gives Niko an amused smile, to which he responds with a dry look and a raised eyebrow. Party pooper. She waits to see how Lady Evienne responds to this sudden development. @KittyvonCupcake @Witches Brew @LikelyMissFortune @Ataraxy
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    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    kalika hildebrand Truth be told, this is one of the most eventful nights of Kalika’s life, and she hasn’t even taken some time to dance with her own husband yet. It has been primarily what she has been looking forward to all day. "I'm sorry. My husband has lost his mind, he...he...he means to kill our own children, and me too, if I ever told anyone." This is certainly news to her, if not for the events prior, and the grip on Suri’s hand tightens as Kalika observes the scene before her. Lady Uldwar is a broken bird bleeding on the floor, all her poise and elegance spilled across the tiles in devastating ruination as she pleads for justice, for protection, for the safety of her children against the monster wearing her husband’s visage. Kalika is saved from wondering what sort of comfort to verbally offer when the suited Dali woman intervenes, frost-like and calm in her fury. “I’ll look after your son and daughter, as well. It would be unwise to return to your husband, Lady Uldwar. I suggest petitioning for asylum within the halls of another House, preferably away from Misral. An attempt to reclaim you by force would be an act of war.” With this, the chess pieces are set: Kalika is to stay with the Lady Uldwar and provide a show of support while the Dali noblewomen are to follow after Lord Uldwar and secure the noble children still scattered about outside. Not for the first time, she is reminded of her husband still meandering in the ballroom, and wishes that he could be beside her, somehow, provide advice in some manner. "Lady Kalika Hildebrand? Would you mind?" Unperturbed by the Lady apparently knowing her identity, Kalika merely shakes her head firmly in response, watching the Dali sweep out of the washroom, tense silence left in their wake. She pauses for a moment, watching Suri’s fingers darken with makeup as she continues to wipe away the noblewoman’s tears before quietly pulling back. “I’m sorry for your bad husband,” her daughter murmurs, childlike and pure, and Kalika’s shriveled heart swells with pride. But they cannot stay here, not with the circumstances that may yet prove to be dangerous for them all. “My Lady, we cannot remain here,” she says, looking out towards the doorway and to the commotion brewing beyond the temporary haven of the washroom. “We must move you somewhere safer, whilst the others make sure your children are safe. I daresay they can handle the situation with ease, but we must leave with haste.” @Grubbistch @LikelyMissFortune @KittyvonCupcake jasper hildebrand "It is a relief to hear everyone is in good health. And I'm confident the emperor has ensured there is enough security here to put your sister's mind at ease." Following the Duchess’ example and taking a glass of wine for himself as well, Jasper’s gaze then strays from the noblewoman before him towards the dark murmurs bubbling up from the crowd. The patriarch of House Uldwar emerges, haunted and desperate, as if on the brink of a long and devastating fall, shattered glass and hostile eyes trailing behind him. His son follows, wand clutched tight between his fingers as he disappears after his father out into the open air outside. Strange. Jasper keeps his eyes trained on the exit as Duchess Karradeen continues her spiel. "But one never really knows what can happen on a given day, can they? Speaking of which, if you or your family ever need supplies, dare I say weapons specifically, I will be happy to ensure you obtain a fair deal on what you need. With all the foreigners roaming our lands now-a-days, not to mention the... increasingly questionable nature of some of our own people, it would seem prudent to keep our own guards as well-equipped as possible." With one furtive glance towards the Dali women suddenly pushing their way through the crowd towards a small gathering of individuals, Jasper is well-inclined to agree. The scene unfolding before their eyes seems suspicious, but the true businesslike remain resolute in their dealings, first and foremost. “I thank you kindly. The Grand Executor has shown House Hildebrand a great deal of mechanized transportation and the like, and it would not be far-fetched for us to obtain advanced weaponry as well,” he replies, an inscrutable smile gracing his face. “We must indeed look after our own with vigilance, Duchess Karradeen. One knows not where those who would seek to harm us lie.” @Tyler
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    Have a Joyous Reverie!

    HAPPY REVERIE EVERYBODY!
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    Have a Joyous Reverie!

    I'm sweating buckets at this point in time; I may have made a grave mistake somewhere along the way 😅
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    Have a Joyous Reverie!

    WAAAAAAAIT~ *running towards the closing doors* lemme get a post up in a few 😂
  7. Which ooc should I use for the opera?

    1. vielle

      vielle

      the silver screen ooc should work just fine 😆

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    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    kellen cordaro He had almost gotten an aneurysm at the realization that Emma had disappeared, which isn’t all that different from all the other times he had almost gotten an aneurysm because of Emma, but Kellen has digressed. Looking down mournfully at the two glasses filled with pink juice and floating bits of fruit, he considers his options for a moment. He could in fact return to Dahlia and the other teahouse staff with her, or he could go look for a spunky, pink-haired girl who might already be humiliating someone on the dancefloor or vomiting in one of the lavatories at this point in time. Gods, does she need a babysitter. Thanks to a decade-long friendship with the aforementioned pink-haired girl, Kellen sighs and takes off in search of her amongst the crowd. It takes a few minutes for him to comb through the ballroom, but the area remains woefully Emma-free, so he tries the ladies’ lavatories. He may have backed off way too quickly at the sight of three formidable noblewomen crowding the entrance of one particular washroom, but Kellen maintains that he is only looking out for himself and his immediate survival. Running out of options, he moves towards the doors that lead to the outside pavilion, hoping that he finally finds her. Lo and behold, his luck has not failed him yet; Emma is there with a strange friend of hers. "Charmed to meet you, Kellen. I eyed Emma in the ball and figured we could catch up while she rested. I'm sure you don't mind me stealing away my friend for a walk in the fresh air." He doesn’t particularly trust anyone with dark-red eyes—except Dahlia, because she is the Boss and the Savior of everyone working for the teahouse—and so he pulls his gaze away from those unsettling eyes and back towards Emma. “No, I don’t particularly mind it,” he smiles tightly, moving slowly towards the pair on the stone bench, “if Emma dear had said something in the first place before she abandons another friend on the dancefloor.” The girl in question simply grins wide at him, trusting and childlike, and the iciness in his expression melts, just a little bit. He gives Emma the glass of punch intended for her, and then offers his own to Nova in a show of friendliness. “Nice to meet you, Nova. Where are you from?” @Rin
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    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    dahlia chamelis After a few moments of verbal trade-off with the young members of the nobility, Dahlia quickly realizes that, well, she and her staff are not exactly cut from the same cloth as the Lords and Ladies before them. With this in mind, she subtly waves the men behind her to wander off if they so wished, and Marcy immediately takes the bait. “I’ll be taking my leave for just a second, my Lords and Lady,” he says, as if he were on the stage of a grand theater, all eyes only for him. “I need to refresh myself after that, erm, previous event.” He then shifts, giving Dahlia a wink as he goes, and walks away to meld into the crowd like smoke. No doubt he’ll turn up much later with a lady or two hanging from his arm, and so she merely shakes her head and shoos him away. To his credit, Gareth does not immediately leave the group, but the slight daze that had descended over his eyes is enough to get Dahlia’s attention. “You’re free to go about and entertain yourself for a while, darling,” she tells him softly, low enough only for them to hear, and starts pushing him away in the direction of the tables ladened with food. Despite his sputtering, the red-haired man does not explicitly protest, and so he eventually takes his leave with the promise to return with satisfying sustenance for everyone. Which leaves Dahlia with Niko, who is just as obstinate as she is, if not even more so. She can almost feel the tangible imprint of his critical gaze at the back of her head. “Are you alright?” He asks as he straightens his glasses, that observant gaze examining every inch of her exposed skin for any evidence of physical harm, and it is almost too much for her to handle. “I’m very much fine, Niko, thank you,” Dahlia coughs, as if to remind him of the sudden, intimate proximity between their bodies; Niko, for all the knowledge he has crammed into his skull, is not exactly the most educated when it comes to social graces, and even more so for the concept of personal space. He locks his gaze with hers, between one frozen moment and the next, and then he steps back just as quickly as he had leaned in. Dahlia says nothing, just like all the other times she has said nothing, and the shared moment is quelled by the recognition of their shared company. They watch the young nobles converse with each other, tension and unease still evident in the way they hold themselves upright, but otherwise fine after the strange turn of events just a little while earlier. Until now, Dahlia has no idea what exactly transpired, but they have all come out none the worse for wear. “Oh, I work mostly with transmutation. Crops and other things. I’ve been expanding recently, my latest project being these gowns.” Seeing the agitation in Lady Merida’s minute movements, Dahlia steps in to support her. “Transmutation? How interesting! And you’ve worked with crops before, my Lady?” She tilts her head in consideration. “What exactly occurs during crop transmutation?” @KittyvonCupcake @Witches Brew @Grubbistch
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    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    jasper hildebrand In all things, Jasper has learned many times over, a man must trust his wife, even in the most strained of circumstances. He watches, gaze calculating and dark, as his wife disappears into the crowd, their daughter trailing bemusedly behind her. It almost injures his pride, noticing the distress, the volatile aura that can only promise dark things from the Uldwars a little too late, but Kalika’s critical eye has yet to fail him, and so she had gone to investigate. It is a habit he had passed to his wife, the act of meddling and sticking his nose wherever he deems advantageous, but he finds that it suits her much more than it ever did him, as if she had been born with such a skill. He is about to turn on his heel and search for refreshments for the moment his wife returns to him like the loving husband that he is when the sound of rapid footfalls reaches his ears. Jasper shifts his stance, plasters a charming smile upon his lips as he comes face to face with the head of House Karradeen herself. "Ah, Lord Hildebrand, it is pleasing to see you in good health. We were most concerned when news of the incident at your estate reached us. I do hope the rest of your siblings are recovering well and that the cretins who perpetrated this crime have been caught and appropriately punished." Jasper gives the noblewoman an appraising look, nodding in approval at the refined simplicity of her choice of garments before speaking. “Duchess Karradeen,” he bows low, a hand to his chest, dark hair spilling down his shoulders as he rights himself to stand tall, “a pleasure to see you this evening, and in high spirits, if I may.” He pauses for a moment, eyes scanning the immediate surroundings before continuing. “We appreciate your solicitude towards us; it was a unforeseen and most unfortunate circumstance, but rest assured, we are doing all we can to fully mete out the deserved punishment and subsequent justice.” Jasper allows his lips to tug downwards in a grieving frown, gaze wandering and unfocused as if the ordeal is a struggle altogether too difficult to recall. “My siblings are quite well, if not rather shaken, as we all continue to be. Lady Hildebrand herself has suffered grievous wounds at the hands of those monsters. She has recovered enough to attend this evening later on, but I fear the strain of being outdoors might bring further harm upon her mind.” @Tyler
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    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    kalika hildebrand It seems she is not the only one to notice the nebulous distress emanating from the Uldwar nobles, as Kalika spies the telltale poise of the women from House Dali weaving through the crowd just a few paces ahead of her. She has seen them in passing from various events before, but never close enough to converse with them; there had simply been no need for such fraternizing with others, not when that is the role of her husband and his eldest sister. When she reaches them, whispers soft but enough for her to overhear speculation about some sort of crowd and a warning to tread with care, the sound of raised voices muffled by the door to the washroom reaches her ears, and it is rather clear what is happening within. The younger of the two Dali women—the one that bears such a distinct similarity to Varda, it almost stuns her—acknowledges her presence with a curtsy and a polite smile. Kalika responds with a smile of her own that feels altogether too strange, too tight upon her lips. Turning her focus away from the other eavesdroppers near her, she "All my life I've scared others, intimidated them, bent them to my will, all because it was my duty as a leader. If you dare to leave me, then you will forfeit Hanna's life." Horror clings to Lady Uldwar’s voice like a malignant disease, and Suri presses close to her, hands shaking and gaze questioning. “What’s happening, Mama?” Kalika responds with pointed silence, fingers stroking through her daughter’s dark locks, wordlessly asking for silence, ears straining to hear everything. "When the ball ends, I expect to see you on the boat, and later, in my bed, where you belong." The door is wrenched open, all of a sudden, and Kalika watches as the young Dali’s surprise turns twisted with disgust at the sight of the man emerging from the washroom. "This is the Ladies' washroom, Lord, I'm quite astonished you flouted such a rule. We expected such barbaric behaviour from you toward your Lady Wife, but, mayhaps we thought you would refrain from causing another fiasco, so soon after what happened in our gardens." Kalika’s interest is piqued. Something had happened in the Dali gardens, seemingly a display of apparent ‘barbaric behavior’ by Lord Uldwar to his own wife? Jasper might just give anything to be where she stands right now. She follows in Lady Goldcourt’s footsteps, albeit in a different manner: taking care not to let anything of hers to even so much as touch the man she passes by, giving him a look that identifies his status to be lower than the dirt under her heel in Kalika’s eyes. She pulls Suri away from him, holds her close at the opposite side of the man. The other Dali woman, dressed in an attractive suit that simply rebels against tradition, pins the retreating figure of Lord Uldwar with a glower so fierce, it is a wonder his attire had not caught aflame. In truth, Kalika feels nothing but hardened indifference, in the darkened cavern of her chest. However, the desperate, gasping sobs ringing through the washroom is enough to remind her of the past she had once lived through, and she’d be damned if she were to stand by and do nothing when she could offer comfort. Stepping forward, Kalika kneels near the weeping noblewoman, eyes searching for any visible marks of physical violence. “My Lady Uldwar?” She says softly, hesitant but ultimately steel-under-silk: she has never learned how to handle fragile, broken things all that well. Her daughter presses herself tight against the folds of her skirts, slowly reaching out with delicate fingers to gently wipe away the tears on the noblewoman’s face. @Grubbistch @LikelyMissFortune @KittyvonCupcake
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    Strangers in the Night [Networking Event]

    [ Míra Andronov / Caeceila Glasmann ] Míra does not appreciate the almost-tangible sensation of envious eyes trained upon her person, and the skull-ring suddenly feels cold against the skin of her collarbone. However, as she steps away from the gaze of the many and further into the sprawling estate, the itch subsides, replaced with an undercurrent of curiosity. She is, after all, meeting with a prized, wealthy individual for this round. The walk through the opulent halls of the manor is a masterclass in the exorbitant application and display of grand wealth. The servant leading her is silent, dark eyes trained only unflinchingly forward, and so Míra resigns herself with observing the sights the passing scenery is able to provide. She smiles enigmatically at the security personnel they encounter around the entryways to the Great Hall and whatever is in there that is worth safeguarding with thorough surveillance, observes the patrolling automata with mutual detachment, and studies the varying collection of artworks decorating the halls with a critic’s eye. She takes a moment to entertain a diversionary route and shifts to stand before the holographic projection of the Battle for Last Chance, left unfinished but no less astonishing in its rendition of the infamous battle. Míra remembers the days leading up to the event, when whispers of upheaval and bloodshed had almost prompted her to send one of her operatives to see what Toxicant could salvage from the inevitable destruction in the aftermath. It would have been Belladonna, the deadliest rose in the briar patch. Now, she is lost to the wind, betrayal echoing in her wake, and Míra sees no other reason to pursue that line of thinking any further. She turns on her heel, nodding at the servant patiently hovering a few steps away, and continues on to the Game Room. It is here that she first sees Caeceila Glasmann, and it is not quite what she has expected. She can appreciate the rugged choice of clothing, really, but the woman ultimately looks out of place, standing tall and striking against the facade of lavish opulence. “Two questions: who are you and what are you after? You look like the straight-shooting sort, so you might as well lay your cards on the table at the start. Just don't say anything cheesy like "I want you." I get enough of that infuriating nonsense as is.” There is nothing to stop her from doing so: Míra’s lips curve into an amused grin. “Now, why would I do that?” Her wandering stride leads her to the billards table, caressing the woollen cloth with appraising fingers. “I’m here to enjoy the evening with new company, as it were.” She completes her revolvement, perches on the polished wood and shifts her gaze back towards the woman behind the snack bar. “Dranamíra Andronov, but Míra works just fine. Should I call you Lady Caeceila in turn?” Nodding towards the table, Míra keeps her gaze on Caeceila. “Fancy a game?” @The Alexandrian
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    Church On The Hill

    such shaping fantasies; [ Coth: Ópera ston Aéra ] Míra quietly leans back just as the draconian starts inching forward, watches with faint concern as the scaly claw descends upon the mess of papers on her desk, hopes nothing fragile is torn from the pressure exerted by those talons. Wally takes a moment to look over whatever she’s been looking at, then just as wordlessly backs away to stand up tall. Sweeping aside the document he had been perusing, Míra gives the slight wooden cavity a look of mourning. The desk had been new. "I have some pretty high ambitions and I see this as one of the rungs in the ladder. I guess you could say I'm hungry. What I'm hungry for . . . I guess you'd say I want to show the world what it's all about, by showing them what we're all about. I want to make them laugh when they're sad, cry when they're happy, gasp when they're safe. When you talk about things that make you think and that make you feel people are going to say, 'a starry night, a broken heart, and the Silver Screen'. If there is one thing she has learned to appreciate in others, it is the quality of ambition, of reaching for something one believes themselves worthy to obtain; the expression on the draconian’s face is something she very much empathizes with. Suffice to say, Míra will always accommodate those who seek that which she herself is searching for. Perhaps she may even enjoy the show along the way, with the Silver Screen providing the performances and emotions Wally has described. "Oh if you meant for the performance, one of our lesser known plays to keep things from getting too stale, stapled to one of our bigger names for the draw, and two or so up-and-comers to start pushing them in the public mind. How's that sound, Dranamíra Andronov?" She smiles approvingly, turns her gaze away for a moment to focus on the untidiness of her workspace. “Call me Míra; my full name is a mouthful as well.” The papers scattered about are swiftly put aside and stacked neatly, and red-tipped hands fold themselves formally against the desk. “I believe we can make something great happen, Wally. The stage is yours, for you and your own.” Míra hums, gestures to the window and the open-air theater beyond. “My secretary can draw up the necessary documents to formalize our partnership; will your agent be handling the bureaucratic process or yourself?” @supernal @jaistlyn @Grimmholt
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    What do you know ooc

    ❤ What do our elf eyes see on the terminals 👀
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