odiria
like petals, adrift in the wind.
i am tired of this place, i hope people change. i need time to replace what i gave away. my hopes, they are high, i must keep them small. though i try to resist, i still want it all.
⸻ chiba odīria, the wizards automation.
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open starter for @cagliostrostart // the glitz blitz !
⸻ In the midst of the spectacle, Odiria found herself stationed at a makeshift medical tent, tirelessly tending to the wounded gladiators and spectators who had fallen prey to the unforgiving battles. Sweat glistened on her forehead as she rushed from one injured person to another, her hands skillfully applying bandages and administering potions. She wasn't as experienced as Bryan, nor was healing her main discipline, but she'd studied enough to help where she could.
Royal banners fluttered proudly in the breeze, attempting to distract the crowd from the dark rumors that had been circulating ever since the letters were leaked. Her heart felt heavy with the knowledge of what loomed over the kingdom, but she had to focus on her duty. Her eyes bore a mixture of determination and compassion as they departed from one wounded warrior to the next. One by one, she assessed and tended to their injuries.
As the sun began to set and the roars from the crowd settled, her adrenaline had started to wane and exhaustion began to set in. She sinks into a seat on a nearby crate, eyes closing briefly to collect her thoughts, only for the sound of approaching footsteps to interrupt. Eyes fluttering open, her back straightening, she greets the figure with a gentle, forced smile. "Hello there," voice carrying a hint of warmth despite her fatigue, "Are you injured, do you need assistance or a place to rest?"
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⸻ Descending from the top of the tower with an annoyed scowl etched on her face, Odīria mutters under her breath like an exasperated teenager. "Stupid man and his stupid musty beard" She's grumbling, shaking her head in disbelief, her arms crossed petulantly across her chest. "Don't even know why Yuuko comes around," As she reaches the lowest level, she hears the familiar commotion coming from the closet, and quite frankly, isn't surprised in the least. This wouldn't be the first time she would have caught both Rook and Tristan in such a compromising situation before, only she'd hoped that this time, they would have the decency to wear some clothes.
She's just made it down the last step when the two tumble out onto the hard tower floor, her voice calling out before she's fully seen or taken in the sight before her. Arms still crossed over her chest, she's shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You two really know how to make a grand entrance, don't you?" she asks, her tone playfully scolding. "Couldn't you guys find a more spacious hiding spot, that closet has seen far too many—
As her gaze locks onto rook, her voice trails off mid-sentence and her eyes widen in astonishment. Jaw hanging open, she takes in the very sight before her, gawking at the new human-sized cat ears that have seemingly sprouted from Rook's head, then the tail whipping nervously back and forth behind him. Her shock lingers in the air as, for once, she struggles to find words. She'd caught her pseudo-brother and Rook in the act plenty of times before…but this?
This was a new one for the books.
After a moment of silence, she finally finds her voice, and she's suddenly bent over in a fit of loud giggles. "Am I going to catch you prowling the tower at night, Rook?" she pauses, another fit hits and she has to catch her breath, "Gonna knock things off of shelves and demand treats?" She'd long forgotten whatever the Wizard had done to piss her off by now, "Careful, Tristan, you might have some competition for his attention now, I hear catnip can be quite irresistible. Shall I grow it in my garden?"
@odiria, @babygirlhq; the wizard's tower
— Crammed inside the closet, the couple is one jostled elbow away from accidentally pushing the door handle and tumbling into the hallway. It's young love at its finest: two people encircling each other's orbit, an unspoken magnetism drawing them closer and closer together.
Young love also included bad decisions. Bad decisions like impulsively sampling one of the wizard's potions they'd been so vehemently warned not to play with. (As the brooding wizard would say: science is not a toy, boy-lord.) The potion's effects could've been far worse, all things considered.
The air's gone stuffy with their body heat. Rook's own breath is perpetually cold, the frigid winds of a spiritual plane forever in his lungs as a psychic whose words cross worlds. He likes the feeling of goosebumps prickling, fine hairs rising all along his boyfriend's neck as he kisses it. Rook's thankful for the closet's dark after ingesting that potion, since he's still unsure if Tristan likes what he sees.
They freeze.
Footsteps.
In panic, they shuffle around the too-small space with their arms wrapped around each other. Sneakers are stepped on, apologies are whispered, and one of the wizard's ingredient cans of goddess-knows-what is knocked off a shelf. Rook lunges and caught it like the star quarter-back he never was, but bumps into the door handle.
The door swings open.
Rook falls backwards, still cradling the mystery can. Tangled hair splays out underneath him in a mess as his eyes meet a familiar pair of shoes. Odiria was familiar with him too, only the last time she'd seen him...he'd been mystery potion-less and lacked the magically-induced cat ears and tail.
"Uh, nyah?"
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⸻ She can't help but feel a tinge of guilt for inadvertently prolonging the mans errand, accompanied by an even tinier tinge of hope to gain a new friend from the encounter. Sure, it was likely the longest shot she could hope for, and she had a growing feeling the stranger would rather send her off of a cliff before open up…but wasn't that the fun part about making friends with grumpy people? Cracking open their hard shell and basking in the secret soft goodness inside. As she'd reached out, she sensed Jiro's hesitation and quickly withdrew her hand in an attempt to respect his boundaries. However, her determination to be a supportive companion nearly remained unwavering...nearly.
She can't hide her unsettled expression at the mention of crushing and grinding up the innocent Lickshrooms. Surely there was a way of going about things without such a harmful approach? Her brows knit together in concern and she stumbles over her words. "Oh, ah, um…" there's a long pause as she tries to gather herself, "I understand your…need for the paste, but is there truly no other way? Perhaps we can explore different avenues or seek out alternative ingredients that don't involve harming forest creatures?"
⸻ Though she hadn't any clue of any of what went on in Alon's head, had the two known each other beyond a first meeting, perhaps they could have shared a sense of understanding. The stark division between beings and the prejudices they faced would have resonated deeply within her, as she understood the challenges that came with being seen as different, a creature outside of the norm.
She approached Alon with a gentle step, her voice empathetic. "I truly didn't mean to intrude, but please do be cautious," she urged gently, "It would be unwise to underestimate the risk." Her movements were slow, careful not to spook the creature nestled in the dirt between the both of them. Her eyes lower to her bag and her expression shifts, a touch of regret crossing her soft features. "I usually carry an assortment of tinctures and cures with me on my travels," she continue, apologetic, "-but I didn't bring them with me today, I didn't think I'd need them for a trip to the Alder Tree…Ah, I feel so silly…"
As she spoke, the Lickshroom bounced towards the both of them, its sprightly movements creating a dance, it's color cap bobbing in the air. Odīria moved quickly, pulling the stranger away with her in an instant, reflex reaction. A nervous breath escapes her as she settles and relaxes with the large distance. Her voice is apologetic once more, "I'm sorry, truly! I don't mean to cause you further annoyance by interfering, I had hoped that my knowledge on the creature could be of use to you somehow, or I could offer my assistance if needed. Perhaps I can help you with your task, or accompany you on your journey?"
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⸻ Odiria's eyes shimmer with genuine delight as the other expressed her gratitude and reveals her name. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Odīria," she replies, a soft smile gracing her lips, "Georgina is a lovely name, and I will remember it well." She watches in intrigue as Georgina's arm undergoes a mesmerizing transformation, a testament to her remarkable magical abilities. "You're far too kind to me, it's enchanting to witness the beauty of your art and the grace of your presence, I'm honored to have been able to provide you assistance."
"I do not intent to be intrusive, but I'm curious...do you frequent the Wildwoods often? I don't recall ever meeting you before." She smiles warmly at Georgina, hoping to make a new friend. Her eyes glimmer and she gestures towards the surroundings, "Have you ever visited the Alter tree? It's quite the sight, I believe it would make a beautiful painting. I was just on my way to present an offering in exchange for it's profound wisdom. It seems our paths have joined at an opportune moment…" she pauses for a moment, her gaze lowering to the forest floor, "I don't know if you're looking for a friend, but if you ever find yourself seeking inspiration or someone to accompany you on a visit, I would love to tag alongside. I don't get to meet people very often, let alone such kind strangers!"
their sincerity shines through as her new companion commends the beginning strokes of a half-painted work. and while george considers the piece unworthy of another's gaze at this stage, odiria's sweetness permits a sort of sheepish curl in her lips as the apparent kindness unexpectedly places her off-guard. rose-colored cheeks bloom to life in an instant. "oh, well .. yes, thank you. and not very long," a finger extends to press against the base of her chin in thought, unaware on exacts regarding the passing minutes. "i imagine ... i've only been wandering a short while, if that." the time it'd taken to find a subject worthy of her canvas had occupied a fair portion of her time in the wilderness. her discovery of the lickshrooms along the path, and their utter cuteness, cemented their place in her piece.
nodding eagerly as the berries make their appearance and an explanation of their purpose follows, the noble is just as eager to see the results in play. "oh, that would be quite wonderful!" delicate hands ( or rather, wing and hand ) clasp together happily in turn, the news of further solutions filling the dancer with obvious joy. "what a treasure you are, my darling!" her glee is evident in not just the uplifted tone, but in features now alight, feeling welcome to embrace the emotions she'd often been chided against fully expressing. considering the request, her breathing slows to a more meditative rhythm, her mind wandering — and struggling — to place its happy moment until — ".. you really are quite the wonder." georgina mentions in a somewhat awestruck manner, her arm magically recovering its human appearance in a sort of mesmerizing flourish.
"thank you, truly. i'm georgina, by the way. you may call me george, if you'd prefer." she wasn't in hiding, per se, so her comfort with exposing her true name was well enough. as a precaution, she avoids the detail of her surname, however, uncertain how far such things as social standing trickle out in these parts or to those who choose to occupy these spaces.
#— wonder why we bother with love. (thread)#thread: george#this is a little messy i'm so sorry!! dhsuoih
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axdently:
he watched as Odiria’s eyes, still swollen from crying, lit up with affection, and he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of warmth in response. he steps inside the library, his features softening ever so slightly. “You’re stronger than everyone gives you credit for,” he murmured. "And It wasn’t any trouble at all. I miss our run ins at the shop, and I’ve finally had the time to step out. I’m sorry it took me so long.“ Pax drawled on in his southern rasp. he has to remember to show her pictures of his family– his wife, the twins and everything she’s missed.
he observed her delicate touch on the wilting wisteria. its scent lingered in the air. "Yeah, I picked that myself. There were a couple of vines down the path. I couldn’t help myself. Maybe we can take a walk one day?” his voice tinged with a touch of cheer. he is quick to agree to her comments, “I suppose there is a certain kind of beauty in death.” he’d spent most of his life fearing the afterlife, having caught glimpses of others’ demise in the back of his irises. it’s hard not to fear death, but he can agree, “It’s like a reminder that even in decay, there’s still a whisper of grace left behind.” he gives her a genuine smile, “You always find beauty in the unconventional. That’s why I reckon we get along so well.”
⸻ Her eyes, still brimming with remnant of tears, meet Pax's gaze with a mixture of affection and gratitude. A faint, yet genuine smile graces her lips as she took in his words, the warmth seeping into her heart. "Thank you, truly. I don't know what I did to deserve such a kind friend." There’s still a hint of disassociation in her eyes, but she masks it quickly before it can linger long enough to be mentioned. She didn’t care to go into her quarrels with the Wizard, it simply wouldn’t change a thing, nor would it replace the trapped feeling she felt deep in her heart. Wiping any remaining tears from her warm cheeks, she takes in a breath of air and puts on her best smile for her friend and closes the door behind him.
“I’ve missed it too,” she admits, placing his gifts gently down on a nearby table, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia, “Ah, I suppose life has a way of carrying us in different directions, but it’s a joy to have this moment now, yes?” With a graceful gesture, she motions for Pax to take a seat across from her, inviting him into the cozy embrace of the sanctuary. The air in the room seemed to soften, carrying a sense of solace as she spoke. "Enough philosophizing though, it's been far too long since we've caught up, how are you doing? How is your family?"
#this isn't my best work LOL my brain died halfway through writing this i'm sorry#— wonder why we bother with love. (thread)#thread: pax
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⸻ She listens attentively to the strangers response, her concern easing as his laughter filled the air. A warm smile graved her lips as at the mention of his family and his request. Being intimately familiar with the foraging opportunities of the Wildwoods, her heart danced with the prospect of sharing her knowledge and lending a helping hand in his quest. "I'm glad I could be of help," she giggles, "Losing the use of your hands would certainly be quite troublesome in your line of work."
Pondering for a moment, her eyes scan the surrounding area before settling back on the man. "Actually, you're not too far off! There's a little grove just beyond these moss-covered boulders where an assortment of mushrooms tend to flourish." She points in a direction, just beyond the rocks is a path leading to an opening. "As for flowers—we may be able to find a few squash blossoms or some calendula if we keep our eyes open!"
She takes a step closer, demeanor filled with a true desire to assist. "If you'd like, I can accompany you and help you gather what you need, it's the least I can do. We wouldn't want those little sea stars to miss out, would we?"
@odiria // replying to this !
His eyes glanced to the mushroom before jumping at the sound of the girl, the finely aged pirate almost feeling his heart jump for a moment before letting his laughter escape in order to calm himself. He nodded his head and soon stood, soon giving a thankful expression. "thank you, i do not believe my wife and my children would be too fond of their cook losing his ability to use his hands."
even for a dreamshade of over seven centuries of age, he still never was good with any sort of plant that was on land compared to how deep his mind ran with the sea. He felt a little awkward for such questions but he felt his smile grow as he rubbed the back of his neck. "do you by chance know of any mushrooms or herbs here that could be good for consumption or even.. a few flowers that may make a pretty gift? may wanna give my pearl and my little sea stars an apology for making things so late."
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⸻ Her eyes light up as she gazes at the strangers unfinished painting, a warm smile gracing her lips as she speaks with admiration. "Oh, no worries at all! Your piece looks lovely so far, I can already see the likeness coming through! Have you been working on it long?" As her gaze shifts back to the vibrant forest surroundings, her expression turns thoughtful and suddenly, her features light up with a burst of realization. Quickly, Odīria rummages around in her satchel, sifting through bits and bobs, trinkets and tinctures, before finally pulling out a small bag full of colorful berries.
Excitement is evident in her features, beaming at the chance of helping her new friend. "You see, Lickshrooms are notorious little snackers," she explains confidently, "and I always bring a handful of moonberries with me when I travel into the Wildwoods! I'm sure that we could lay them out at a safe distance to keep it occupied! If we're lucky, it may even attract others for your painting."
With a twinkle in her eye, she places the berries on a rock a little further in the distance, arranging them in an enticing display. Taking a step back, she admires her impromptu creation and offers an excited grin to her new friend. "There, now we can observe their charm without any worries! Now, as for your wing-" she pauses, expression turning thoughtful. After leaning in and examining it closely, as well as a brief pause, she speaks with reassurance and confidence.
"Perhaps if you take a moment to breathe and think of something special to you, something soothing, it may help calm your spirit and return you to your usual form?"
the revelation of another she had never expected to bear witness to startles george to gasping fright, a sudden frazzled nature to an otherwise typically poised and certain figure. the paintbrush once resting steady in her grip fumbles and slips between fingers that bloom feather white in her shock.
a singular wing emerges on her left side, fluttering to life where her human arm once lay.
the cry of frustration that snaps forth is immediate and severe, that same winged extremity falling against her face not even moments later in a face palm-like gesture. "oh, fiddlesticks, not again!"
still, lickshroom. what a fascinatingly adorable name for such a marvel of a tiny creature. how she wished she could be just a smidge closer for just the right details.
realizing she's yet to properly address the guest arrival who otherwise saved her from a terrible occurrence, lady george glances towards the young woman, presenting as pleasant a smile as she could manage while in the midst of things.
"thank you kindly for your expertise! i fear you've just proven i'm not terribly well suited for such excursions on my own just yet, but i was feeling well .. " she gestures a bit helplessly towards the half painted canvas just beside her. "a bit inspired, perhaps. i'm only allowed so much time on my own, after all. may as well make the best of it." realizing she's become a bit mumbly towards the end there with her rambling on, the dancer clears her throat suddenly. "any chance you have any tips for .. wings, perhaps?" the feathers sway a bit in turn, as if presenting itself more formally.
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bold what applies to your character in this verse.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘. chipped nail polish. glitter highlight. tall trees with smooth bark. tangled hair. the taste of cinnamon sugar. talking too loud and too fast. overgrown flowers in your hair. crumbling buildings reclaimed by nature. flirting. walking home at 3am with no coat. platonic hand-holding. blowing smoke out of your nose. dragonfly wings. chaotic good. freckles. fairy rings. secret meetings. gender nonconformity. leather. smudged eyeliner. forbidden fruit.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑. computer errors. a shiver down your spine. haunting beauty. hard liquor. crowns of thorns. shadowed alleyways. decaying plant matter. shattered mirrors and broken glass. corrupted memories. stopped clocks. the scent of stale cigarettes. tattered black hoodies. walking your friends home. the crescent moon. the sea. a graveyard on a foggy day. cold rings on cold fingers. absolution. looking out the window of an airplane. soft kisses.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇. graffiti. pretending to know what you’re doing. worn paperback books. growing up too fast. parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. lace and combat boots. moth wings. candles on every surface. a weathered deck of cards. turning the music up. fireflies in jars. calloused fingers. drawing on your skin. sunlight filtering through clouds. petrichor. a dying rose in a jar. wearing a crystal pendant. illusions and spells. black cats. mint gum. chapped lips. dirt under your fingernails. the cycle of life and death.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅. murders of crows. frost-bitten leaves. wolves howling at midnight. knocking on your door. leaving food out for stray animals. the twang of an acoustic guitar. honey. tiny red buds on trees. claw marks on the walls. golden eyes. slightly too long stubble. sharp canines. soft, thick fur. hunger. a small cottage in the middle of the woods. knitted fingerless gloves. sleeping on the forest floor. always finding your way back home.
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⸻ Her expression hardens, brows knitting together in frustration as she observes the others act of aggression. The knife that was now plunged deep into the earths soil did little to unsettle her, for Odīria had never been someone fearful of death. Still, the blatant disregard for the potential consequences did leave her unsettled. With a determined voice, she addressed Evangeline, tone tinged with disappointment.
"I see," she responded, voice steady but firm. "It seems you're determined to pursue your own path, regardless of the consequences it may bring." She glances at the Lickshroom, it's innocent appearance belying its potential danger. "I can't condone the deliberate harm of these innocent creatures, even for a perceived need." With a gentle, firm resolve, she continued, "I implore you to reconsider your approach. There are often alternatives that still respect the balance of nature and preserve life. Perhaps there's a different way we can find common ground and you can achieve your goal without causing harm?"
Her word's hang in the air, carrying the weight of her conviction. As she takes a step back, providing the stranger with more of a comfortable distance between the two, her voice turns softer, eyes determined to create a positive outcome. "There is beauty in understanding and respecting the creatures that inhabit the Wildwoods, might we find a way to coexist and preserve the sanctity?"
As Evangeline stood just to the right of the path, she wondered what would happen if she were to simply... keep walking in a westerly direction. Where would her feet take her this time? Would she end up by the water? By every map she found of the place, water tended to be a thing one would stumble across sooner rather than later. A nice creek, a burbling brook, a pond, a lake ...
Much like the lickshroom she had pulled a knife on - she was a captivating creature. Nearly glowing in radiance and graceful as she moved along (even with the dagger in her hand which often spoke to darker deeds and nothing at all radiant).
She paused as she heard a voice warning her, and she laughed. She cast the blade down between them, the sharp, pointy -- normally considered the stabby bit -- sunk into the ground with the force of her throw. It'd be better for the both of them if neither crossed to the other's side of the imaginary line she had drawn.
Evangeline Arcadia, a woman who had grown inside a body not her own, who had wandered and made a habit of wandering and learning, looked quizzically at the woman-shaped being in front of her. "I know what it does. I need it for my trip into the capital," she said. There was no hiding the golden scar that crossed around her neck in three jagged lines and cut up her chin and over her jaw. "If you don't appreciate the termination of life, it'd be kinder to you if you turned away so I could start my harvest."
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⸻ Though she hadn't any clue of any of what went on in Alon's head, had the two known each other beyond a first meeting, perhaps they could have shared a sense of understanding. The stark division between beings and the prejudices they faced would have resonated deeply within her, as she understood the challenges that came with being seen as different, a creature outside of the norm.
She approached Alon with a gentle step, her voice empathetic. "I truly didn't mean to intrude, but please do be cautious," she urged gently, "It would be unwise to underestimate the risk." Her movements were slow, careful not to spook the creature nestled in the dirt between the both of them. Her eyes lower to her bag and her expression shifts, a touch of regret crossing her soft features. "I usually carry an assortment of tinctures and cures with me on my travels," she continue, apologetic, "-but I didn't bring them with me today, I didn't think I'd need them for a trip to the Alder Tree…Ah, I feel so silly…"
As she spoke, the Lickshroom bounced towards the both of them, its sprightly movements creating a dance, it's color cap bobbing in the air. Odīria moved quickly, pulling the stranger away with her in an instant, reflex reaction. A nervous breath escapes her as she settles and relaxes with the large distance. Her voice is apologetic once more, "I'm sorry, truly! I don't mean to cause you further annoyance by interfering, I had hoped that my knowledge on the creature could be of use to you somehow, or I could offer my assistance if needed. Perhaps I can help you with your task, or accompany you on your journey?"
There’s a clear divide among who he favors to entertain. Those that walk and talk and look like him, and others that the former are so quick to label as animals, beasts, monsters. Truthfully, he’s always favored the latter. It’s always been easier to understand them instead of his own ilk. Not to mention the accusations they frequently burden are those he can genuinely understand and share. Well, ever since he, too, had been transformed into something monstrous all those decades ago.
Still, even with lengthier patience for the creatures he tends and loves, there is a limit. And such an end is where he’s currently circling. Between obligation and frustration, Alon knows he’s allowed to feel both in tandem. Doesn’t make it any easier to hold, though. Especially when someone comes along to chime in alarm.
“Paralysis.” That dull, almost hollow, repetition is soon accompanied by a deepset furrow of brows. Leave it to that particularly infuriating beast to request such a thing — three of them, at that. “That won’t do. Need to collect at least three of them.” If he’d known of such dangers, he would’ve brought the appropriate tinctures. Alas, the most he has are his wits and whatever creatures that lurk in the distance.
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bold whatever applies to your muse, italicize the things that only somewhat apply/are verse dependent.
anger. jaw clenching. hands balling into fists. teeth grinding. yelling. going nonverbal. stuttering speech. rushed speech. slow, concise speech. rambling. quiet. arms crossing. shaking head. tearing up. expressionless. projects. internalizes. vents. withdraws. passive aggressive. physical outbursts (destroys items/throws things/punches walls). verbal outbursts.
joy. easy smiles. fighting back grins. suppressed laughter. loud laughter. giggles. chuckling. smirks. whole body laughs. covers mouth when laughing / giggling. throws head back when laughing. slaps leg. touches people around them when laughing. looks down when laughing. looks for eye contact when laughing. sparkling eyes. bubbly happiness. quiet, subtle happiness. obnoxious happiness. wants to spread joy. quietly savors joy. (+ laughing like a dying animal)
sadness. crying. bottling it up. seeks distractions. wallows. eyes appear red. meditates & processes. avoidance. seeks out comfort. withdraws. talks it out. internalizes it. sad smiles. depression naps. uses alcohol. uses drugs. seeks out sources of joy. fidgets with sentimental item. sits in silence. broods. gets moody. wants someone to share the misery. tries to hide negative emotions. nurtures others to make themselves feel better.
embarrassment / shame. blushing. looking away. rubbing at back of head. covering face. laughing nervously. laughs it off. overthinks. lets it go. self - depreciating humor. deflects. gets irritated. smiles. withdraws. crossing arms over stomach. crossing arms over chest. hands in pockets. shoulders sinking. shrugs. falling into silence until comfortable again. talking a lot to compensate.
guilt. avoiding eye contact. shoulders sinking low. head hanging down. crying. chest aches. lashes out. internalizes. apologizes. deflects. communicates. withdraws. grand gestures for forgiveness. accepts fault easily. punishes themselves. martyrdom. victim complex. over - active guilt complex. healthy conscience. internalizes even after forgiveness. seeking redemption. moves on easily. denial. lack of guilt / conscience. sorry they got caught more than caused harm. can’t handle knowing they hurt others.
fear / anxiety. trembling. crying. uses sarcasm / sass to cope. rambles. goes silent. gets angry. fidgeting. clenching jaw. picking at nails. chewing at lip. pulling at clothes. adjusting jewelry / clothing. swallowing thickly. eyes widening. over - reacts. under - reacts. calm. logical. panic. irrational. overthinks. carefully analyzes. talks to themselves. breathing exercises. fight. flight. withdraws.
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odīria + @cagliostrostart, somewhere along the path to the alder tree.
⸻ she traverses through the wildwoods with her purpose clear and her heart filled with reverence. her destination, the legendary alder tree, stood tall and mighty. it's ancient trunk adorned with moss and gnarled branches that reached out like ancient fingers, and it bore the face of a withered old man, wise and weathered by time. as she approached the towering tree, her steps grew softer, her demeaner filled with respect and awe. in her hands, she held a carefully crafted offering, a small vial of pure, shimmering dew collected from the petals of a moonflower.
along the path, sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting playful patterns on the forest floor. lost in her thoughts, she suddenly noticed a figure up ahead, bend down and reaching out towards what looked to be a living mushroom. eyes widening with concern, odīria quickened her pace, knowing the potential dangers that lurked for the person ahead. as she drew closer, she couldn't help but speak up, her voice carrying a blend of caution and genuine care.
"ah, i really wouldn't touch that, if i were you!" she calls out, her tone gentle and warning. she gestured towards the captivating creature, it's vibrant colors masking it's true nature. "that's a lickshroom, you see. they might appear sweet, but they have a rather unpleasant habit of causing paralysis...best to admire their charm from a safe distance, i assure you."
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𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗕𝗔 𝗢𝗗Ī𝗥𝗜𝗔 ✧ 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡 ✧ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗭𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗦 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
(kotone furukawa, she/her, human) To ODĪRIA CHIBA, the whole world looks like an open page. With a leap of faith, their skills in CURSE BREAKING grows a little stronger. For TWENTY-SIX years, they have survived a world of magic with both their CURIOSITY and CANDID ATTITUDE. They work by TENDING TO THE WIZARDS TOWER, but if they could change their fate, they’d want to EXPLORE THE WORLD. (ana, 25, she/her, est)
i: basics
NAME: chiba odīria
AGE: twenty-six
GENDER: gender neutral
PRONOUNS: she/they
SEXUALITY: demisexual, questioning
RELATIONSHIP: single
FACECLAIM: kotone furukawa
HEIGHT: 161cm / 5′ 3″
HAIR COLOR: black
EYE COLOR: brown
ZODIAC: aries sun, libra moon, cancer rising
SCENT: earthy and sweet, notes of chamomile, honeysuckle, and dragonsblood. mids of clary sage and rosemary
POSITIVE TRAITS: curious, sincere, inquisitive, forgiving, empathetic
NEUTRAL TRAITS: observant, ritualistic, unusual, candid, transparent
NEGATIVE TRAITS: complicated, verbose, grumpy, impulsive, needy
ii: personality
LIKES: restoring books, blue wisteria, herbal scents, pickled ginger, soft hands, the feeling of soil between her fingers, the smell of a burning cauldron, when other people buy her food, open fields, rural land, competing, dressing up, pretending to be someone else
DISLIKES: remaining stagnant, green skittles, losing at games, books creasing, selfish people, losing at games, being stuck in the tower all day, authority (just a lil bit), isolation, her loved ones being hurt, murray wheatbelly
HOBBIES: gardening, studying, tidying the tower, making up games, bits of potion making, book organizing, reading
TALENTS: curse breaking, remembering things, comforting others, jewelry making, herbology
FLAWS: aimless, blunt, fixated, temperamental, jealous, possessive at times, sad
HABITS: speaking with a rising inflection, humming sounds that get stuck in her head, parroting people, twisting rings on her fingers, swaying while standing
WANTS: to figure out who she is, a best friend/companion, to find a meaning to it all, to grow old one day and have children, to be free
FEARS: perpetual stillness, isolation, rizzetheus, being unwanted, the unknown
DREAMS: to explore the world with a friend, to take down the boundary, to experience life, to remember her previous life, to die one day.
iii. biography
in a world where enchantment and innovation entwined like an eternal dance, there came into existence a being like no other. born of a curious experiment, she emerged as a testament to the boundless abilities of magic. as her eyes fluttered open for the first time, she beheld the visage of a mother and father of sorts.
her creation had been an ambitious endeavor, an audacious fusion of the magical arts and arcane knowledge. though her birth artificial, her essence radiated with a unique blend of enchantment and the lingering breath of an immortal soul. neither fully living nor dead, she found herself existing in a realm between realms, an ethereal tapestry woven with the threads of her creators' aspirations.
within the confines of her abode, a tower adorned with the patina of forgotten tales, she yearned for companionship and adventure. the solitude weighed upon her, like petals adrift on the wind, until fate intervened and breathed new life into her timeless days. in a twist of destiny, apprentices for their way to her father's tower, their spirits injecting vivacity into the once stagnant air. a newfound exuberance and insatiable curiosity delighted her, igniting a dormant spark from within.
through an uncanny coincidence, she bore a resemblance to the lost love of the lady of the wildwoods, a revered figure of ancient lore. as whispers of her resemblance reached the ears of the lady, her heart stirred with a bittersweet longing and grief. drawn to her presence, the lady extended a sorrowful invitation, granting odīria the honored position of becoming one of her advisors. with a grief-stricken gaze, the lady hoped to capture fragments of her lost love in odīria's existence. a glimmer of solace in the midst of an eternal longing.
she stood as a beacon of hope, embodying boundless potential within the realm between realms, illuminating a path of shattered boundaries. yet, an ache lingers within, for completeness eludes her grasp. deep within her artificial heart, she yearns for the ephemeral, the fleeting moments of growth and aging, a life mirroring mortal existence, where experiences shape her identity and fill the void tugging at her soul.
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axdently:
𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 ; the seven of pentacles often denotes that your efforts have been paying off and that they’ll eventually start to accelerate. when this minor arcana card emerges in your tarot arrangement, it indicates that things are approaching completion so that you may anticipate outcomes. if you’ve been working through something and feel like you’re not making any progress, this card is a very comforting reminder that triumph is right around the corner. you will begin to see the benefits of whatever effort you have put out. on the other hand, it might also mean that you are at a junction in your life and need to evaluate your options and make a choice. @odiria
her visits in the shop are welcome, though understandably scarce butwhen given notice of them, he tried to set the store speakers to play her favorite songs. it wasn’t often for him to see her in an ill-mood, but together as friends they were in the habit of exchanging warmth and companionship when they could. that’s why he visits her this time. he brings with him, a jar of pickled ginger, and a nearly wilted sprig of blue wisteria. the flowers, in his travels, were not sustainable and within an inch of their life, yet he hoped that she’d still accept the token of his friendship. greeting her with a smile, he speaks in a hoarse and tired voice, “Evening Odie.” the packaged jar of ginger is handed over–– a brown gift bag with a blue bow is placed within her grasp. “Is everything alright? I thought I heard shouting.”
⸺ as the heavy wooden door cracks open and she's greeted with the sight of her friend, she can't help but feel a surge of anticipation and gratitude for the visit. a gentle smile plays upon her lips, her expressive eyes, while still puffy from crying, light up with fondness for her friend. it's only after she's invited him into the library that she notices him slip the bag of gifts into her grasp. “i can’t believe you came here, i hope it wasn’t too much trouble!” she beamed, a giggle follows a sniffle and she wipes away the remaining tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "oh, and don't you worry about me, i'm going to be just fine.” before she finishes, she places the jar on the entrance table and her fingers are already gently intertwining with the stems of the wilting wisteria, bringing it to her nose so she can inhale the remaining moments of it's scent.
"did you pick this yourself? it may sound dark, but i've always thought that there's beauty in death, even wilting, a flower smells so sweet."
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the chariot & temperance
the chariot: thoughts on astrology?
❝ i think it's more about self-reflection. you can choose to believe in it or choose not to, but you can't deny that it encourages people to explore themselves and dive into the depths of their souls. it's a language to discuss hopes, dreams, even fears! it may not be scientifically proven, but it inspires introspection and i like anything that allows people to romanticize their life. ❞
temperance: can you describe a strange dream you’ve had?
❝ i don't think i've ever dreamt before, but sometimes when i rest, i like to imagine strange or silly scenarios which i suppose could be similar to dreaming? would they still be considered strange, if they're created through intention? ❞
#answered#anonymous#ty for the asks <3#i'll come up with a tag later#i've sent everyone who's opened their asks boxes a ton! i'll send more tomorrow <3
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haven’t posted my intro yet bc i’m a gremlin but my askbox is OPEN for meme weekend!
feel free to send odiria (or dollie, over at @ofglamour) anything from the ask memes listed on this post!
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⸻ THOUGH MY HOPES, they are high, i must keep them small. though i try to resist, i still want it. I SEE SWIMMING POOLS AND LIVING ROOMS AND AEROPLANES i see a little house on the hill and CHILDRENS NAMES.
CHIBA ODĪRIA ─── INTRO . GOOGLE DOC . PINTEREST . PLAYLIST . THREADS . VISUALS
THIS IS AN INDEPENDENT ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR CAGLIOSTROHQ, penned by ANA. this blog is run by a mun over the age of 18+ and may contain mature or dark content that will be tagged accordingly.
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