!!! This character is noted to have varying identity issues, shows signs of a inferiority complex and in her backstory, undergoes a very, very brutal transition from teen-hood to adulthood. Thus, her story will mention such topics.
Please note that while this character is not a human, does not lack the knowledge to be humane.
Current Species Information: 5% Deity, 10% Human (Normal), 10% Spirit (Incomplete), 20% Fae, 25% various types of "ingredients".
Original Species Information: 9% Deity, 11% Human (Normal), 25% Spirit, 35% Fae, 30% various types of "ingredients".
A/N: Due to various events, she has regressed to only being '70%' complete.
*As an example, Whilen Weeds, various types of Wildflowers, and other magical herbs.
A/N: Isabelle is the remains of a fae unborn. She was *supposed* to have her soul scattered back to Limbo a long time ago, yet here she is. She is reliant on her vessel for survival.
Text Style: Black and white, and will always use a specific type of text. For Example:
Physical Disabilities: Her left hand, right leg, and most of her torso and face are heavily injured. As of current day, she uses a odd combination of a Body Swap Potion, Slateskin and Soulz (yes, with a z) to stop her body from literally ripping itself apart. She also takes Healing Potions every day.
Isabelle is still a little disorientated, but much more aware than a year ago. However, she is still unable to write or read very well. (Letters are now written via typewriters.) Talking is made easier using her voice box.
Physical Disorders: Mild Chronic Pain.
Medical Aids: She mostly uses a āalternativeā to speak while her voice box is recovering. In roleplay, this will be framed as [ Hello. ].
There arenāt many limitations to this device except for translation errors ( For example: TRANSLATION ERROR: [ H..3 l l . O0 . ] ) which only happen when a certain amount of damage has been taken and it often causes Isabelle discomfort to use.
It basically acts like a āprosthetic voice boxā, so itās usually lodged somewhere deep inside Isabelleās throat.
Family Members: Family is somewhat a sore topic for Isabelle.
Criminal Record: Previous history of robberies, burglaries... oh and tax evasion. She's also had a couple speeding tickets. For some reason, no one suspected the fact she somehow hijacked a car under the influence. Really shows you about the society we live in.
Fun Fact: When she was still wandering around on Earth, Isabelle has never held down a job for longer than a year. The closest she ever got was being a tutor for like, 7 months.
Unfortunately, she found out a little too late that you needed a permit in that state (to teach????) and had to go on the run... again.
Languages: English, Mermainese/Merfolk, Fae, Goblin and the language Wendigos speak in.
Usage of Gestures and Facial Expression: While still not having a poker face, Isabelle is a lot more restrained in physical gestures. Mostly due to her physical condition.
Extra Information: Due to Isabelle's body being 99.9% confused on what it actually is, while she can use magic, she's a lot weaker than the average Fae, or even normal magic user.
Isabelle generally doesn't use magic in day to day life for the sheer reason that it's not convenient for her. It demands a lot of her energy and mana, and stresses her out very often.
One of her stronger abilities; dimension-hopping is in a bit of an grey area to this statement. Going in and out of places is something she's used to, so it's not as taxing for her compared to manifesting forcefields.
In combat, she's more accustomed to being in a support/defense role.
Weapon (s) : Isabelle in general doesn't have special weapons. She just uses a basic sword.
Weakness(es) : Basic Deity Weaknesses. (In the sense that if her vessel was destroyed, Isabelle is going bye-bye.) Basic Human Weaknesses (On a larger scale.) She is only really affected by iron, but is not completely immune to other Fae weaknesses.
Pain in general. Isabelle is not good with tolerating pain. (Of which has gotten worse after she jumped into the Chasm.)
Side Effect(s) : Headaches, Chronic Pain after exertion of magic usage. Which is very often.
Isabelle is generally more distant and will come off as standoffish to anyone she doesnāt know. Most of the time, unless she actively wants to or has to, Isabelle wonāt initiate conversations on her own and will just wander about.
To people she does know, she will generally be more casual and comfortable but still a little formal. She tries not to overstep her boundaries especially if itās made 100% clear the person does not want her to do something.
An example of this is how she communicates through letters. When addressing someone she doesnāt know/someone she considers a associate, she will start with āTo Insert Nameā and end with just her signature or āRegardsā.
To the people she does know/like, she will start off with phrases from āDear Insert Nameā to āGood Friend Insert Nameā and close the letter with āSincerest Regards,ā or āYours Truly,ā etc etc.
There are varying types of phrases she will use to certain people. (I.E. She will call people she considers friends as āDearā) and will sometimes change how she signs off the letter.
Isabelle generally looks up to Flora as a parental figure, even if their relationship is a little tense. Afterall, Flora basically taught Isabelle everything she needed to know: how to read, how to write, what were faes and sirens, etc.
In her eyes, Florence is unrealistically good at everything.
While their relationship is budding, Florence is still a god. Their relationship will always have a element of fear, even if Isabelle doesnāt realise it.
Isabelle doesnāt like to be alone with Florence for too long.
Truthfully, Isabelle has no real memory of her. Florence had been pretty open revealing to her that they were in fact, not her biological parent but never explained further than that.
[ ā¦They never seem to like talking about her. I donāt really dare ask. ]
To make a short story even shorter, Isabelle knows Marina as a nameless, mysterious parent that never really existed in her life.
XUAN : ??? ( UNAWARE )
Isabelle is generally unaware of who XUAN is at this point in time. She more or less thinks she's just a weird gal.
Pfft. As if sheād know.
RELATIONSHIP CHART
This is for any character that Isabelle has interacted with. :)
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Isabelle- or rather Isa, is walking through aevry's orchard. Okay, well... wandering around lost through aevry's orchard would be the more accurate term. God knows how she even made it through the void without the code. Or- did she have that already?
...either way, she seems pretty happy, sipping on a bright yellow box of something while looking around at pretty trees with even prettier fruits.
All so unique too! She was looking at a peculiar apple tree when she remembered guests were supposed to greet their host when they arrived. That was rude and weird of me, haha...
Where was the marigold apple girl? Was she nearby?
aevry was up at the tippiest-tallest tree, climbing the branches and pruning them with long metal prongs. The thick blanket of rust coating the sheers left their age indiscernible. Anyways, they did the job well; nipping off the slightly too long tree branches. aevry took delight in the act. Later tonight, she would treat herself to star gazing through the branchy-stain glass windows she was currently pruning. Looking up, she could see the natural design finally taking shape. Below, she saw... Isa!?!?!?
In shock at the appearance of a visitor, aevry dropped her sheers from the quite tall tree. They plummeted down, down, down, and aevry gasped in horror. She attempted to catch them, and began scaling down the tree like it was a firepole. aevry used her legs to launch herself off of the tree, soaring through the air with her arms out. She grasped onto the sheers and pulled them close to herself. Tumbling to the ground, aevry let out a laugh of triumph. She wiped the sweat pouring out of her forehead and took a deep breath to compose herself. She turned over to Isa, a little embarrassed of the shenanigan.
"Sorry you had to see that; my hands get really slippery!!! It's so good to see you Isa!!! :D What brings you here!??!"
Isa barely had a minute to react, nevermind respond to the scene before her! She had climbed trees before, but she never jumped from them! She should definitely try it out sometime.
āHi! Ummā¦ā
The girl(?) tilted her head, squinting at aevry. She looked at her up and down, almost analysing, but more certainly curiously. Something about the marigold pliers-girl itched at a unknown corner of her brain. Something that didnāt feel menacing, not at all; but something like recognition?
āUhhhhhhhhhhhhāā¦. sorry, I was exploring the forest near the coast and ended up getting distracted and I donāt remember how I got here andā¦ā
She paused mid-sentence, suddenly holding her hand up to interrupt what was being said, even though she herself was the last person speaking. Maybe she just didnāt want to cut her train of thought?
āWait! Have we mettt? How do you know my name?!!ā
That sounded a little odd. Isabelle usually didnāt purposely drag her sentences out like that. She didnāt really speak like that either. Come to think about it, was Isabelle always on eye-level with aevry? Maybe even a little bit shorter???
On closer inspection, parts of the girl before her didnāt fit the image of her friend either. All her scars seemed as though erased from her body, the fat on her cheeks seemed a little fuller. Her right eye didnāt seem off-coloured as it usually was. She smiled daringly and boldly, all her teethā her teeth were that sharp?ā on full display.
But she looked like Isabelle. She still had that long dark, straightener-unobeying hair, slightly off-coloured skin, she still carried around a big satchel, and still wore darker colours, even if her clothes seemed cozier and more well-knit, something closer to what aevry herself would wear; if she went through some undisclosed gothic phase.
Perhaps the girl in front of her noticed something off, or was used to this scenario, because she immediately piped up:
āIām Isa! Yāknow, Isabelleee? I donāt remember what exaactly happened, but I think I got transported into future meās timeline?ā
She shrugged, her bright yellow juice box still in her hand.
āItās weeirrrddd.ā But apparently, she had questions herself to ask, as she immediately continued on. āSooo! I think you know I know you know who I am? But I donāt know who you are?ā
She stuck her face very close to aevryās and flapped her arms up and down, somewhat like a bumblebee.
aevry brushed the dirt of her knees, wiping her palms on her filthy shirt. She scraped her arms and shook all the debris off like a wet mutt. Wincing, aevry rubbed her eyes, and reset her vision. Now she could focus on the girl before her.
She was like a memory aevry never knew; a confounding mystery her brain almost could grasp. The ingredients were correct, but the preparation was wrong. It was Isa but less worn, smaller, and more aevry-like? Was this a photograph from another time? aevry racked her mind, trying to piece together the lines. What was so different about her!!!? aevry pressed her lips together, suppressing a frown. She refused to succumb to the gnawing headache.
This isn't the Isa I know. Why does she look so much younger? Is this really her younger self? Is that why her memories are wiped? Or are they really gone? Is our history under a thick blanket, waiting to be uncovered, or is this a blank slate waiting to be written upon? What about our friendship? Was every conversation, every thoughtful word, and experience now just my dream?
aevry bit her lip, trying to push down her fears. She shouldn't question the stranger too much regardless of how paralyzing her fears were. Instead, she should answer the girl's inquiry. Who was aevry? Who would she be to someone her age?
aevry felt a little twinge of excitement; she could finally have a friend her age. But could a new friend fill the bitter void of loss?
This was a blank slate, and a terrifying one at that. aevry decided to state some simple facts about herself.
āWell iām aevry- thatās with a lowercase a. iām the owner of this orchard. That coast you were at, thatās where i harvest my apples.ā She licked her lips, pausing for a moment before continuing. āi engineer them to be any shape, color, taste i like. iām 11 and 11 twelfths old and i am your friend!!!!ā She announced very awkwardly. āI like your outfit. It is really cute!!ā
aevry's tears floated away and she giggled, cusping her hands over her mouth.
āCan i get you anything to eat? All of these apples are edible- I pinky promise!!ā
Isa "ohhh-ed" and "ahhh-ed" and nodded very often at aevry's explaination, probably not fully understand what she was saying, but knew enough to keep going. She pushed down at the tingly feeling in her stomach at the sight of the other girl's expression. Sometimes, you could tell a little bit too much from a tilted look, that stared a bit too long. But she didn't understand at all.
She didn't understand what aevry was feeling. She could never understand the weight behind it, the magnitude of it. Not the fear. Not the excitement. She, had never experienced the feeling of loss. You couldn't miss something you never met. Not yet.
But she understood bittersweet feelings. She understood it wasn't appropriate to bring it up. Not yet.
Isa, grinning ear-to-ear now, just looked at her curiously.
"With a lowercase a?? Whyy? Names don't work like that." She shook her head. Apparently, even as a child, Isabelle thought it was important to have punctual and correct grammar. Except this Isabelle didn't understand why aevry spelt her name like that, and actively continued. "You're a girl! Like mee. You're supposed to have a capital letter in your name."
She didn't have any other thoughts on that, as she continued blabbering.
"Aww! Thank youuu! Your sock things are super cute tooooo!" Isa pointed at aevry's legwarmers. Apparently, she didn't know what they were called. She continued on.
"Your apple orchard thing sounds so cool! I never did like, BIG things like that before. I always just sit around at home doing nothing all day, except eating grass or trying to get through a dictionary. It's so booorriingg. I can't like, do anything cool like that. All the plants I try to grow all, I dunno, die in like a week or something."
She shrugged, but looked a little down for a moment. She perked right back up at aevry's suggestion for apples. She almost momentarily flung the juicebox from her hand onto the ground, before remembering it in her hands. She gripped it tighter. It's bad to litter afterall.
"Yeah, yeah! I like apples, kinda! What kinda apples do you grow here? Are there golden apples? Are there purple apples? Are there blue apples? Are there green apples- wait, no. Green apples already exist. Are any apples in here?" She bobbed up and down.
aevry smiled softly towards her new friend. Isa's excitement and pureness radiated off of her and washed over aevry who so desperately tried divorcing herself of any ill feelings. Instead, she embraced the curiosity and wonder of a new friend.
"Well I wasn't born like you!! Capitalization is a privilege i have yet to earn :P" She aggressively threw her arms outwards and did a spin, doing her best attempt at showcasing the orchard. "Ttttthhhhhats what all of these apples are for!! millions of millions of millions of tons and each one of them has a purpose!! they all work toward a greater goal of shaping you, helping you gain their virtues!!!"
aevry picked up an apple off the ground, cradled it into her arms, and rubbed her cheek against it. She cooed at it in thanks, scrunching her nose. She turned to face her friend and burst into tears of laughter at Isa's remark.
"GRASS??!?!? HELLO!?!??!?! ARE YOU A COW???!?! That's so... tragic!!!!! umm we definitely have more to offer here."
aevry rushed off to a pitiful, crooked tree. It seemed to buckle underneath the weight of its plentiful fruits. The tree belched as aevry clung onto its branches and attempted level footing. She projected her body forward and lunged for the biggest branch. aevry shook it with all her might and a shower of colors, textures, and sizes raced to the floor. She hopped off, and the tree sighed in relief as it cured itself of scoliosis. On the floor rolled a pile of various apples, each one enticing and beautiful in its own way. aevry dove straight into the pile, digging for just the right one.
"These apples can be anything you like. There are some kinda metally, here's some sparkles-- some uhh Ooh!!"
aevry gently cusped a light blue, opalescent orb. Colors abounded from its welcoming smile. Drawing closer to the hypnotic fruit, a gorgeous reflection of light fractals is painted across the girl's faces. A low hum emanates from it, and aevry hands it to Isa, nudging her ear closer to it. She tries listening to the quiet voice.
Black. A computer crashing noise erupted from what once was a delicate beauty. Indescribable flashes of color fight to be seen, thrashing and gnashing at one another. In almost an instant, it disintegrated, leaving behind only the faint pressings of an uncomfortable memory.
"AUGHJHHSHDHJ FIDDLESTICKS :(" aevry stomped her feet, trying to fight against the decomposition. "Corrupted again!!! The apples i grow in this orchard never come out quite right." She stopped for a moment, hiccupping or chuckling, it wasn't quite clear. "See? i kill plants too :/ thats why i prefer to get my harvest at the beach..!! the natural ones tend to fair a lot better. we could go there now," she turned to face Isa, "but only if you'd like!!!"
Isa tilted her head. Earning capitalization? She never heard of that before, butā¦ aevry probably knew more about that than her, so she didnāt add on to it. She should try researching about it later, if she remembered too.
āYeaah! Grass can be a snack, if you grow it right! Buuuuuut,ā She squinted her eyes and her cheeks at aevry. She looked like a puffed up baby deer trying to act intimidating, but that probably wasnāt the effect she was going for. āI think normal people canāt eat grass. They donāt digest well.ā
She stepped back and laughed. She twirled around with one foot, listening to aevry.
āApples-?ā She didnāt understand what aevry meant as she watched her reach for that crooked, supposedly dead tree. She āwoahā very loudly at the sight of all the apples falling down from just one branch, and yelped and yippeeād into the sky at the sight of the pretty, luminescent shiny blue apple.
āWoah!!!ā She was clapping her hands still, very near her own face. āThatās so cool! It looks a lot like my force fields stuff!!!ā
She leaned in to gently cusp the apple herself, cradling it in both hands. She leaned it with aevry, trying to hear whatever aevry was hearing. She didnāt want to miss out!
The moment it started glitching, Isa screamed, and threw the apple(?) in the air and catching it as though it were a game of hot potato she was playing by herself.
She shivered a little, something inside her felt a little weird after touching and watching the apple disintegrate like that.
āYeahā¦ I wanna go see nice apples please.ā She wiped her hands on her overalls, feeling her hands a little numb. In the end, she managed to regain her spark.āBeaches are always nice!! Sunny and warm and all fun!!! Letās go!ā
Isabelle- or rather Isa, is walking through aevry's orchard. Okay, well... wandering around lost through aevry's orchard would be the more accurate term. God knows how she even made it through the void without the code. Or- did she have that already?
...either way, she seems pretty happy, sipping on a bright yellow box of something while looking around at pretty trees with even prettier fruits.
All so unique too! She was looking at a peculiar apple tree when she remembered guests were supposed to greet their host when they arrived. That was rude and weird of me, haha...
Where was the marigold apple girl? Was she nearby?
aevry was up at the tippiest-tallest tree, climbing the branches and pruning them with long metal prongs. The thick blanket of rust coating the sheers left their age indiscernible. Anyways, they did the job well; nipping off the slightly too long tree branches. aevry took delight in the act. Later tonight, she would treat herself to star gazing through the branchy-stain glass windows she was currently pruning. Looking up, she could see the natural design finally taking shape. Below, she saw... Isa!?!?!?
In shock at the appearance of a visitor, aevry dropped her sheers from the quite tall tree. They plummeted down, down, down, and aevry gasped in horror. She attempted to catch them, and began scaling down the tree like it was a firepole. aevry used her legs to launch herself off of the tree, soaring through the air with her arms out. She grasped onto the sheers and pulled them close to herself. Tumbling to the ground, aevry let out a laugh of triumph. She wiped the sweat pouring out of her forehead and took a deep breath to compose herself. She turned over to Isa, a little embarrassed of the shenanigan.
"Sorry you had to see that; my hands get really slippery!!! It's so good to see you Isa!!! :D What brings you here!??!"
Isa barely had a minute to react, nevermind respond to the scene before her! She had climbed trees before, but she never jumped from them! She should definitely try it out sometime.
āHi! Ummā¦ā
The girl(?) tilted her head, squinting at aevry. She looked at her up and down, almost analysing, but more certainly curiously. Something about the marigold pliers-girl itched at a unknown corner of her brain. Something that didnāt feel menacing, not at all; but something like recognition?
āUhhhhhhhhhhhhāā¦. sorry, I was exploring the forest near the coast and ended up getting distracted and I donāt remember how I got here andā¦ā
She paused mid-sentence, suddenly holding her hand up to interrupt what was being said, even though she herself was the last person speaking. Maybe she just didnāt want to cut her train of thought?
āWait! Have we mettt? How do you know my name?!!ā
That sounded a little odd. Isabelle usually didnāt purposely drag her sentences out like that. She didnāt really speak like that either. Come to think about it, was Isabelle always on eye-level with aevry? Maybe even a little bit shorter???
On closer inspection, parts of the girl before her didnāt fit the image of her friend either. All her scars seemed as though erased from her body, the fat on her cheeks seemed a little fuller. Her right eye didnāt seem off-coloured as it usually was. She smiled daringly and boldly, all her teethā her teeth were that sharp?ā on full display.
But she looked like Isabelle. She still had that long dark, straightener-unobeying hair, slightly off-coloured skin, she still carried around a big satchel, and still wore darker colours, even if her clothes seemed cozier and more well-knit, something closer to what aevry herself would wear; if she went through some undisclosed gothic phase.
Perhaps the girl in front of her noticed something off, or was used to this scenario, because she immediately piped up:
āIām Isa! Yāknow, Isabelleee? I donāt remember what exaactly happened, but I think I got transported into future meās timeline?ā
She shrugged, her bright yellow juice box still in her hand.
āItās weeirrrddd.ā But apparently, she had questions herself to ask, as she immediately continued on. āSooo! I think you know I know you know who I am? But I donāt know who you are?ā
She stuck her face very close to aevryās and flapped her arms up and down, somewhat like a bumblebee.
aevry brushed the dirt of her knees, wiping her palms on her filthy shirt. She scraped her arms and shook all the debris off like a wet mutt. Wincing, aevry rubbed her eyes, and reset her vision. Now she could focus on the girl before her.
She was like a memory aevry never knew; a confounding mystery her brain almost could grasp. The ingredients were correct, but the preparation was wrong. It was Isa but less worn, smaller, and more aevry-like? Was this a photograph from another time? aevry racked her mind, trying to piece together the lines. What was so different about her!!!? aevry pressed her lips together, suppressing a frown. She refused to succumb to the gnawing headache.
This isn't the Isa I know. Why does she look so much younger? Is this really her younger self? Is that why her memories are wiped? Or are they really gone? Is our history under a thick blanket, waiting to be uncovered, or is this a blank slate waiting to be written upon? What about our friendship? Was every conversation, every thoughtful word, and experience now just my dream?
aevry bit her lip, trying to push down her fears. She shouldn't question the stranger too much regardless of how paralyzing her fears were. Instead, she should answer the girl's inquiry. Who was aevry? Who would she be to someone her age?
aevry felt a little twinge of excitement; she could finally have a friend her age. But could a new friend fill the bitter void of loss?
This was a blank slate, and a terrifying one at that. aevry decided to state some simple facts about herself.
āWell iām aevry- thatās with a lowercase a. iām the owner of this orchard. That coast you were at, thatās where i harvest my apples.ā She licked her lips, pausing for a moment before continuing. āi engineer them to be any shape, color, taste i like. iām 11 and 11 twelfths old and i am your friend!!!!ā She announced very awkwardly. āI like your outfit. It is really cute!!ā
aevry's tears floated away and she giggled, cusping her hands over her mouth.
āCan i get you anything to eat? All of these apples are edible- I pinky promise!!ā
Isa "ohhh-ed" and "ahhh-ed" and nodded very often at aevry's explaination, probably not fully understand what she was saying, but knew enough to keep going. She pushed down at the tingly feeling in her stomach at the sight of the other girl's expression. Sometimes, you could tell a little bit too much from a tilted look, that stared a bit too long. But she didn't understand at all.
She didn't understand what aevry was feeling. She could never understand the weight behind it, the magnitude of it. Not the fear. Not the excitement. She, had never experienced the feeling of loss. You couldn't miss something you never met. Not yet.
But she understood bittersweet feelings. She understood it wasn't appropriate to bring it up. Not yet.
Isa, grinning ear-to-ear now, just looked at her curiously.
"With a lowercase a?? Whyy? Names don't work like that." She shook her head. Apparently, even as a child, Isabelle thought it was important to have punctual and correct grammar. Except this Isabelle didn't understand why aevry spelt her name like that, and actively continued. "You're a girl! Like mee. You're supposed to have a capital letter in your name."
She didn't have any other thoughts on that, as she continued blabbering.
"Aww! Thank youuu! Your sock things are super cute tooooo!" Isa pointed at aevry's legwarmers. Apparently, she didn't know what they were called. She continued on.
"Your apple orchard thing sounds so cool! I never did like, BIG things like that before. I always just sit around at home doing nothing all day, except eating grass or trying to get through a dictionary. It's so booorriingg. I can't like, do anything cool like that. All the plants I try to grow all, I dunno, die in like a week or something."
She shrugged, but looked a little down for a moment. She perked right back up at aevry's suggestion for apples. She almost momentarily flung the juicebox from her hand onto the ground, before remembering it in her hands. She gripped it tighter. It's bad to litter afterall.
"Yeah, yeah! I like apples, kinda! What kinda apples do you grow here? Are there golden apples? Are there purple apples? Are there blue apples? Are there green apples- wait, no. Green apples already exist. Are any apples in here?" She bobbed up and down.
Isabelle- or rather Isa, is walking through aevry's orchard. Okay, well... wandering around lost through aevry's orchard would be the more accurate term. God knows how she even made it through the void without the code. Or- did she have that already?
...either way, she seems pretty happy, sipping on a bright yellow box of something while looking around at pretty trees with even prettier fruits.
All so unique too! She was looking at a peculiar apple tree when she remembered guests were supposed to greet their host when they arrived. That was rude and weird of me, haha...
Where was the marigold apple girl? Was she nearby?
aevry was up at the tippiest-tallest tree, climbing the branches and pruning them with long metal prongs. The thick blanket of rust coating the sheers left their age indiscernible. Anyways, they did the job well; nipping off the slightly too long tree branches. aevry took delight in the act. Later tonight, she would treat herself to star gazing through the branchy-stain glass windows she was currently pruning. Looking up, she could see the natural design finally taking shape. Below, she saw... Isa!?!?!?
In shock at the appearance of a visitor, aevry dropped her sheers from the quite tall tree. They plummeted down, down, down, and aevry gasped in horror. She attempted to catch them, and began scaling down the tree like it was a firepole. aevry used her legs to launch herself off of the tree, soaring through the air with her arms out. She grasped onto the sheers and pulled them close to herself. Tumbling to the ground, aevry let out a laugh of triumph. She wiped the sweat pouring out of her forehead and took a deep breath to compose herself. She turned over to Isa, a little embarrassed of the shenanigan.
"Sorry you had to see that; my hands get really slippery!!! It's so good to see you Isa!!! :D What brings you here!??!"
Isa barely had a minute to react, nevermind respond to the scene before her! She had climbed trees before, but she never jumped from them! She should definitely try it out sometime.
āHi! Ummā¦ā
The girl(?) tilted her head, squinting at aevry. She looked at her up and down, almost analysing, but more certainly curiously. Something about the marigold pliers-girl itched at a unknown corner of her brain. Something that didnāt feel menacing, not at all; but something like recognition?
āUhhhhhhhhhhhhāā¦. sorry, I was exploring the forest near the coast and ended up getting distracted and I donāt remember how I got here andā¦ā
She paused mid-sentence, suddenly holding her hand up to interrupt what was being said, even though she herself was the last person speaking. Maybe she just didnāt want to cut her train of thought?
āWait! Have we mettt? How do you know my name?!!ā
That sounded a little odd. Isabelle usually didnāt purposely drag her sentences out like that. She didnāt really speak like that either. Come to think about it, was Isabelle always on eye-level with aevry? Maybe even a little bit shorter???
On closer inspection, parts of the girl before her didnāt fit the image of her friend either. All her scars seemed as though erased from her body, the fat on her cheeks seemed a little fuller. Her right eye didnāt seem off-coloured as it usually was. She smiled daringly and boldly, all her teethā her teeth were that sharp?ā on full display.
But she looked like Isabelle. She still had that long dark, straightener-unobeying hair, slightly off-coloured skin, she still carried around a big satchel, and still wore darker colours, even if her clothes seemed cozier and more well-knit, something closer to what aevry herself would wear; if she went through some undisclosed gothic phase.
Perhaps the girl in front of her noticed something off, or was used to this scenario, because she immediately piped up:
āIām Isa! Yāknow, Isabelleee? I donāt remember what exaactly happened, but I think I got transported into future meās timeline?ā
She shrugged, her bright yellow juice box still in her hand.
āItās weeirrrddd.ā But apparently, she had questions herself to ask, as she immediately continued on. āSooo! I think you know I know you know who I am? But I donāt know who you are?ā
She stuck her face very close to aevryās and flapped her arms up and down, somewhat like a bumblebee.
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Because I'm feeling silly, I'm reverting Isabelle back to her 13-14 year old mindset. For, about a week or two.
excuse me what.
You can't stop me! This is a good idea!
...
honestly yeah I'm too tired to deal with your mess rn and that's probably harmless i think, i think.
It totally is a good idea. I'm so amazing.
@isnotabelle now answers all her letters as her pre-teen self. (She will refer to herself as Isa) As for how she age-reverted... just assume the answer is Author Magic okay. It's always something like that.
It was evening that day. The sun still shined, as it sat lazily in the crosshairs between the mountains and the sky in Somewhere Above, as it always had, for the past 100,000 years. If a true appreciator of nature in itās most raw form were to listen, theyād ought to hear the clear crisp leaves as they swayed, growing back from the bitter winter as it left.
Isabelle shut the door behind her, entering her room as she slowly slid down onto the floor. Back turned to the door. If she was truly unlucky, she'd have someone stab a sword right through the fragile wood door and take her out in one vulnerable, cheap blow.'
She laughed at that thought, but even she knew she was faking it.
Finding the energy to get up, she walked over and dropped a small paper box, white with a red ribbon, onto her desk. She flopped onto her couch-like chair soon after. She felt old and creaky, like a 99 year old mortal grandma.
Perhaps she had become just as cranky as one too.
Her hands expertly, or more so out of habit, dug through her drawers, shuffling through papers and notes and pens and things she didn't want to throw away, as she found what she was looking for: aĀ X-ACTO knife. She attempted to drew it out and hissed immediately.
Her chubby little index finger had unwittingly cut itself on the blade. A small slick of crimson began to seep through the wood. With how the evening light began to pour into her room through the window in front of her- the only window in her room, her blood looked almost seemed to have a golden shimmer rimming its edges.
Yeah, golden. Sure.
She manned up, grabbing the knife properly and leaning sidewards to get something- gauze, or a bandage- to press on her finger. She stuck her index finger into her mouth, without much thought. It was a disgusting habit, one she had picked up unknowingly one day when she was a teenager. One she didn't particularly like, but had no self control over. She might have even berated someone over doing it, saying it was... what were those words again? Uncouth? Ill-mannered? Unsophisticated? Improper?
After getting the bleeding under control (thank goodness for gauze), Isabelle grasped the knife which had caused so much trouble and cut through the ribbon. It would've been much more simple to untie it, but she didn't have much patience for that. Not today, at the very least.
She lifted the white, slightly squished cover, to reveal the little gift inside. A cake, a single slice of vanilla cake, sat inside on a little dish. A lot of people said vanilla tasted plain, boring. Why would anyone buy vanilla when every other flavor existed in the world?
But she didn't want other flavors. She wanted this one. Maybe with fruit on top of it. But she was happy with it.
Taking the cake out of the box, she stuck a candle that came prepackaged inside, right on top of the cake. It squished it down a little, but it was fine. As for lighters...
She looked on her desk and easily, saw one. Lighting the candle, she covered it with her other hand. She still wasn't sure why humans did that. She sat on her chair for a while, watching the warm glow flicker all over her room, now dark from nightfall.
She didn't feel present in that moment. But she sat there. Quiet and still. She felt happy, but was it really happiness? With everything that happened recently, could this really be warmth? Joy?
Happiness was supposed to feel warm. But this warmth only reached her skin. Her insides were solid cold.
...
Humans make wishes when they blow out the candle of their birthday cakes.
...
[ Someone in this world, please remember me. ]
...
[ Happy Birthday, Isabelle. ]
And soon after, the faint warm, golden glow that illuminated her room extinguished. It disappeared, like it never happened, with just a gentle breeze. She felt empty again, feeling hollow, like she just had the wind taken from her lungs, like something was stolen from her.
But the moment passed, and nothing was ever really 'hers' in the first place anyway.
A small, damaged cardboard box drops from a few inches off the ground after seemingly coming from nowhere. Inside, hides a voice recorder with a sticky note that reads, "Just press play, it's in the center of the circlepad or whatever it's called."
-
The recorder plays upon the button being pressed.
"Hello hello, this is just a little something I have made on the behalf on Asteral. He wishes for you to have a grand new year and also stay strong for any upcoming challenges, yadda yadda. Anyway, the reason why Asteral didn't simply write a letter is-"
The noise of Asteral's voice can be heard, saying something that can't quite be made out. This is quickly followed by recording ending abruptly.
[ AAAAA-ah, ah? ]
She manages to halts herself mid... scream? Isabelle looks around as though expecting someone to pop up from the corner, as she picks up the... really... unpresentable (yes, unpresentable, that was the word) cardboard box. She reads the note and after some apprehension, presses Play.
Dear Asteral,
Thank you for the well-wishes. I won't question how you managed to sneak a cardboard box all the way over here because I will assume the answer is magic. It always somehow is.
How has the New Year treated you? Well, I'd hope. I wouldn't like it if you got into a incident or argument or something. Bad luck, you know?
Maybe we could get brunch some time. Or tea. Something very sophisticated. I like tea. And shortbread! You could get, I don't know, fruit juice or milkshakes or coffee or something if you don't like tea. You should like tea. Tea is good.
...
Oh, I think this letter has gotten off-track. The point is just to say; I hope you're doing okay. If not, we can go spend some time together with friends. I'll call up Pixie, Harunii, aevry, Crow or... that ram-guy, if you want. Or just any friends of ours.
I hope you have a splendid New Years. May all your dreams come to fruition.
Your Friend,
Isabelle.
As if there was someone working behind the scenes of a show, a letter had flown in the same position of the box that had arrived just moments ago. Somehow, the letter is in worse condition than the last "gift," that might make sense, considering that it only has arrived just seconds after the fullstop has been made. A puddle of dried ink covered a third of it.
->
Hello,
The first paragraph has been torn off.
Now, about your friend. Asteral unfortunately is unable to write back at the moment due to a little, and I quote, "issue in need of fixing." It's tragic, isn't it? I fear that it'll take some time for him to return, most likely a week if not earlier.
Moving onto your plans. Asteral would be most delighted to attend to your little tea party in the future. Infact, he wishes for me to somehow speed up his recovery to do so. The kid might be out of his mind considering I'm far from an Author. Even if I was, how would it fit in? His 'lore' may be already set in place for all I know.
Until his eventual return, I will be temporarily taking his place, I wish to meet you face to face soon.
The paragraph has been completely covered in dried ink. The top of the letter might've been used to try and dry it up before the spill got worse.
That was fast. She had just sent out the letter afterall. Isabelle tried to ignore theā¦ abnormally disappointing way the letter had been packageā it was from a friend afterallā or at the very least, until she read the contents of the letter.
ā¦
[ Issue in need of. . . Fixing? ]
She was upset, to be frank. Very upset. Tea parties were for the well-mannered, and considerably classy, thank you very much.
Seizing the paper, she re-read the signature for the thousandth time. āLoreā? Was that some synonym for āfateā or whatnot? This person claims not to be an Authorā¦ but no one she felt comfortable around used those words when talking about their life.
[ They didnāt even introduce themselves, did they.]
If thisā¦ was a āassociateā of Asteralās attempt at making a good impression, they would have failed the moment the letter came on her doorstep.
ā¦
She wrote a letter back. Short, and a actual attempt at courtesy.
=================================
To Asteralās Associate,
Good day. I hope this letter finds you well.
I am looking forward to our encounter in the future. Do introduce yourself in the future, I would hate to have to learn about you through osmosis.
Effort goes a long way, in both directions. I would hope first impressions are untrue, as they often are.
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A small, damaged cardboard box drops from a few inches off the ground after seemingly coming from nowhere. Inside, hides a voice recorder with a sticky note that reads, "Just press play, it's in the center of the circlepad or whatever it's called."
-
The recorder plays upon the button being pressed.
"Hello hello, this is just a little something I have made on the behalf on Asteral. He wishes for you to have a grand new year and also stay strong for any upcoming challenges, yadda yadda. Anyway, the reason why Asteral didn't simply write a letter is-"
The noise of Asteral's voice can be heard, saying something that can't quite be made out. This is quickly followed by recording ending abruptly.
[ AAAAA-ah, ah? ]
She manages to halts herself mid... scream? Isabelle looks around as though expecting someone to pop up from the corner, as she picks up the... really... unpresentable (yes, unpresentable, that was the word) cardboard box. She reads the note and after some apprehension, presses Play.
Dear Asteral,
Thank you for the well-wishes. I won't question how you managed to sneak a cardboard box all the way over here because I will assume the answer is magic. It always somehow is.
How has the New Year treated you? Well, I'd hope. I wouldn't like it if you got into a incident or argument or something. Bad luck, you know?
Maybe we could get brunch some time. Or tea. Something very sophisticated. I like tea. And shortbread! You could get, I don't know, fruit juice or milkshakes or coffee or something if you don't like tea. You should like tea. Tea is good.
...
Oh, I think this letter has gotten off-track. The point is just to say; I hope you're doing okay. If not, we can go spend some time together with friends. I'll call up Pixie, Harunii, aevry, Crow or... that ram-guy, if you want. Or just any friends of ours.
I hope you have a splendid New Years. May all your dreams come to fruition.
Your Friend,
Isabelle.
The water is to reach [REDACTED]'s head, and groping around mindlessly is of no simple task. The sheer density of the tides. The lack of something solid to cling to. The storm brewing, casting bolts of fear down to our earth. The helplessness of it all.
Wishing is a meaningless thing. Putting your hopes in a single House was destined to fail. But people do it anyway. They pray to a God that never responds, a idea that never grounded itself in a entirety.
Do people, on the brink of witnessing death, wish they've done anything differently?
ISABELLEEEEEEE!!!!! I AM VERY THANKFUL FOR YOU YOU ARE SO AMAZING AND AWESOMESAUCE THANK YOU FOR BABY SITTING ME š„¹š„¹š„¹š„¹
TAKE THIS TURKEY TOKEN FOR GRATITUDE!!!!
MERRY TURKEYMAS!!!!!
After receiving the note, reading it once, then twice, Isabelle smiled. Though she wasnāt exactly sure what to do with such a token, she flipped it over in her hand, the sunlight outside catching onto the token.
She soon found her typewriter and wrote back a letter to its original sender. It was as follows:
=================================
Dearest aevry,
Thanks for the token! Itās very, very shiny. And the um, babysitting wasnāt a hassle. If you can even call it that.
Just watching over you and Asteral/Archer (I need to get consistent with what I call them these daysā¦) keeps my mind at ease. Sometimes I donāt trust the adults to keep things- that shouldnāt be in your hands out of teach.
ā¦Though thatās not the topic of todayās letter! Iām grateful to have you in my life as well, aevry. Happy Thanksgiving to you too!
Your Friend,
Isabelle.
===================================
Attached to this letter is a small package, inside is a small bouquet of wildflowers, likely plucked fresh from the entire garden she lived in, of varying shades of yellow and orange. Though itās mostly yellow.
The note, with very messy handwriting, as though the authorās hand was unstable as it wrote this note, and read: āSunny and bright, kinda reminds me of you.ā
aevry read the note very carefully, memorizing the soft scrawls. She looked down at the flowers, tracing the petals with her fingers. She squeezed the thoughtful gift close to her chest as if, by proxy, Isabelle would receive the hug. aevry placed it down gently, but as she rose, she was reminded of the day prior's events. She decided to right something back.
"Dearest Isabelle,
Hey. I hope you're doing okay. I-
I'm really sorry. I am SO sorry. I know you were close to them, and... I'm sorry I couldn't be there. Both of their deaths were... incredibly misfortunate. I want to be there for you. Please don't do anything stupid or lock yourself away or anything like that okay? If you need to talk I'm only one apple away. :(
Love,
aevryā¦ļø
ps. thank you smmm for the gifts the flowers are beautiful!!! :) "
The letter sent back was short. Lacking its usual neatness and attempts of warmth, it was clear a typewriter had not been involved in the making of this note. The handwriting was even more shaky than before, and had several blotches of ink hastily wiped across the paper, leaving smudges everywhere. It was as follows.
I. amf ine ,
sor ry fo rthe mezS M E S S. i think i thre w my typewrit e rtoo har d lasT nig ! gth N I G HT
it wo nt start uP. inK every whEre
it S okAy im FINe
im totally fiNE yes
have @ aA a good day !
your freind frend F R I E N D,
is a belL e .
You probably shouldn't contact her for a while!!! She seems out of it, like a weird psycho lunatic y'know. I wouldn't stick around if I were you! You know how sensitive people can get about like death and stuff and whatever.
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Iām not sure what this emotion is. Itās been sitting in my chest for a couple weeks now.
Iām scared to know what it is, but not surprised.
Itās a scene all too familiar. Everyone has seen it one way or another. Witnessed Death in all its fabled twisted glory.
. . .hm.
If I didnāt understand before, I think I know now. I know that feeling, that fear when you look at me. That fate twists its own axis right on its head.
Donāt worry. The light in my eyes are fading too. Like mother like daughter right?
