#canoncharacter

Short Story Inc. I love this piece though. It hits me /right/ in the feels. Just a reminder! Commissions are open! https://carasilvaart.carrd.co/#commissionsheet

“Ah, ah… Hold still, pet.” Alcina commands, her golden eyes flickering over the sculpture of Alexandria’s face and pausing only momentarily upon the feline ears that stick from the younger woman’s head. The Feline complies, yet her tail flicks up a storm, the only part of her she has no control over. Her lips gently part, relaxing her face. “I’m trying, Countess.” Alexandria breathes, a slow breath that fills her lungs with air. “Shush and listen.” Alcina chuckles, scolding the Feline with a playful purr. “When applying makeup you must practice, and approach makeup with confidence. Makeup is like painting, Pet. Hesitate and you’ll ruin your canvas.” Alcina instructs as she dips the brush into a pink eyeshadow to accentuate Alexandria’s blue eyes. Lifting the brush, Dimitrecu gently applies the makeup upon the Feline’s heavy upper lid with gentle strokes. “Did your mother never teach you how to apply makeup?” Alcina asks, a passive musing as she works. Alexandria pauses, and small kitten-like fangs nibble at her bottom lip. “No.” She responds, and fell into silence as the girl gather her thoughts. Alcina sets the brush down. Golden hues meet Alexandria’s blue, she had the Countess’ full attention and her nerves flare, a bashful smile curling her lips. “My Mother died when I was seven…” She trails off, her eyes flickering sideways. She didn’t need to finish that sentence. “Mmm, then pay attention pet, consider this your first lesson.” Alcina tuts and plucks the brush back up.

@ofglaiveandguard​

She still could remember her mother's voice when she did simple things around. Like when tried to learn cooking by following instructions from a book of hard cover she bought her on her birthday "By being a good cook, you will learn to make really healthy food and you wont end like Bob in the Crow's Nest" 

Who was Bob?

Uncle Bob, that weapon's dealer at Meldacio's, the guy was from an alien planet, always eating in the known restaurant without putting on that much weight he should have. 

She turned off the fire in the stove and mixed some of the sauce that would accompany the juicy premium steak she bought to reward herself for doing good in the last exam, a HUGE sigh left her lips as she just putted the steak on her plate with some salad, to seat  on the table and read that catalog of the military forces on Lucis.

How to express that to the only man she found hard to speak to? The crownsguard?, the glaive? Being a hunter like her mother was out of the list, because it was out of Insomnia- Come on… -muttered to pinch the bridge of her nose softly, hiding that catalog under the table. Not-Cool to be that confused. She knew she could pass the crownsguard entry and for the Glaives too.

If Prompto could, why not her? Doesn't it? She wasn't to be a doctor, or an executive, or a psychologist or… whatever thing would be normal for a regular citizen. And so she saw the wall clock. Like her father used to, probably he was going to be home late. Maybe? There is no way he could be aware of her final day of exams…does he?  he was all submerged on his paperwork that it looked like he wasn't aware of many things but HE WAS, and that was scary. 

Luckly for him, she was mature enough to dont do stupid things. Lyla wasn' t on board to cause her father more trouble than the one he got because of her appearance after her mother's death.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own “Zappyboy”, nor the world and characters of Azeroth, this is just a random thing that came to my mind, I proofread it in case anything was poorly written. 

Hello, peeps. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a fan of World of Warcraft.  I know Nyatzhanvan may be “Blizzard morally grey” as Sylvanas, but, despite they being nearly the same age, with Nya relying a lot more on the fell-corrupted magic, she has those weird green eyes. Don’t worry, Kharayna will be fine. Of course she will. Do you think “cinnamon bun” here would abduct her? No!  I don’t think Nyatzhanvan would remember that either. Despite being a bleep, she’s a forgetful old b...and tends not to remember things. Azeroth needs more comedy.  

« The young bird is always caught by the chill of the dawn. » A female voice spoke in Orcish.

It was the password for the meeting with his superior officer, Nyatzhanvan. His ears flicked towards the sound, flattening against his head. Zekhan swallowed after he walked towards the voice. He had received the mission three days before, with two coins of Gold and a pouch of sixty Silver. He instinctively knew it was from one of the Horde’s trusted warriors. However, when he had seen her name – he dare not think of it – he shuddered in awe.  She was a Blood-Elf mercenary and a rather good at that. The proof was that she had survived the Pandaren Isles Invasion and battles against the Zandalar Prophet Zul. Apart from cleansing the Scourge resurgent armies in Northrend that was the only accomplishment he had heard about her.  

The voice was chilling and sweet at the same time. Those fel-burning eyes glared at the hooded Troll with such finality he swore he could see why the majority of the Blood Elves felt a chill when she walked by. From the lithe and silent stride, he could have sworn he was meeting Lady Sylvanas herself. Although she barely reached his chest, she was intimidating.  But no, the green-coloured eyes, the long blond eyebrows were those of a living Sindorei. She reeked of a clean, sickly sweet scent. Whilst her tabard of the Silvermoon dragonhawk was ragged, the mantle and the dark blue hood were not. 

Handing to him a bag, she barely moved a muscle before turning towards the northwest.  

« Take this. I want her numbed, not dead. » She spoke in a fluent Orcish, the crystalline intonation of the murmuring voice doing nothing to calm him.

« Why would the Warchief want me to---» The boyish Troll glanced hopelessly at the female elf.

« She’s no Tyrande Whisperwind, I am very aware of that. I wouldn’t question “her”! If my sources are correct, the girl is the daughter of an ancient blacksmith and now revered champion of the Alliance. The Warchief needs her, and we shall take Kharayna to her. »    

« Why would we do that? »

She laughed bitterly, her eyes reflecting the dimness of her lantern.

« I’m afraid I am not that welcome within Booty Bay. Let’s just say I have a terrible temper. »

A small, graceful movement told him she was shrugging.

« Besides, weren’t you the boy who wanted to see the world?  In my time, I saw the world, I travelled to all manner of places. Working for all types and races has its advantages. »

« This ain’t what I had in mind… This is…awful, cowardly! »

Zekhan meant it. His father had always taught him never to give reason to the Alliance soldiers who thought all Trolls were conniving, deceiving savages. Yet, there was one woman who had been rumoured to be cruel and yet, efficient…Telling him it did not matter. It did not matter whether his visions on the world were true or false.  

At this, the rogue merely sighed, cleaning with a crystalline liquid her blade.  

« It never is. I shall give you thrice the amount of money you received in Durotar---»

« Ya may keep your shitty gold! »

At this sudden snarl from Zekhan, the Blood-Elf narrowed her eyes. Nevertheless, her voice remained calm.   A blade was revealed, the edge sharp and enough to slice the youthful shaman’s throat. Hovering the blade only a few inches from her own neck, the rogue snorted.

« You know, Lady Sylvanas knows me personally. I wonder what will happen when I tell her the boorish and treacherous way you spoke to me. I wonder how your mother will feel… »

Pearls of sweat streamed from Zekhan’s chin. His brown eyes widened in worry, a small frown of worry crossing his features.  He knew his mother would cry, she always cried, even when he went as far to train with the Shaman master, only one mile from their hut.

« Forgive me! »  He croaked, the voice clearly alarmed at the threat.

A moment passed, the knife only vaguely distinct between her lantern and the emerald green in her eyes.

« All right, sweetie. You are so young… There’s no reason for me to execute you.  That is, if you manage to capture that little Keldorei. There’s no mistaking it, she has amber eyes, dark greenish hair combed neatly to her side and a few marks marking her as a druid---»

« She’s a druid in training?! » Zekhan gawked, fists balled.                    

Thrall had often assured many shamans and druids no druid walking in neutral territory would be harmed by the Horde. Vol’jin repeated that. The smell of burning hearths flowing from the dark tunnel entrance tasted bitter in the Troll’s nose.  He shuddered. These were dark times indeed.