#crescendion

It’s strange, watching seasons change. They did so once of their own accord, to me, for reasons I understood. Now they do so, sometimes, for little reason at all...

It was a quiet morning, as calm rains fell on orange leaves. Occasional leaves floated to the green grass below and offered a showcase of the autumn season’s early stages.

Should I visit my brother, I’ll see trees of green. My father, trees covered in snow. The two live in lands where seasons are scarce, and changes are subtle at best. They don’t control this, yet they choose it.

The red-headed woman sipped on her tea, and leaned back. Her porch swing creaked just quietly enough that the gentle patter of rain was sometimes enough to cover it. Birds weren’t chirping, the babies were asleep, and this early morning gave peace that brought Cress back into a reflective mood.

Summer turns autumn here... sometimes because we choose. When we want the leaves to fall, we ask for it. When we think it’s time for snow, the sisters oblige. It happens every year on schedule, but what would happen should the people call for something different? A snowstorm mid-summer? Would it be the blossoms blooming after an ice storm? Or should they call for something new entirely? Could we make trees of blues and yellows, grass of golden browns to go with leaves of pink and white-

“You’re lost again.” The front door opened for just a second; just long enough for Kasumeii to step out. How long had Cress been thinking? Had she gone another hour, two, had time escape-

“Aaand lost again...” She laughed this time, and stepped over to give her lover a smooch on the head. “You should probably not work today. You won’t get anything done on a mood like this.”

Cress surrendered a hand from her lap to put it on Kasumeii’s, resting them on her shoulder. It was then that she remembered: she had previously held her tea cup with both hands. Where did-

-oh. What tea was left was now in her lap, and out of the cup. She sighed and started to get up, but was pushed back down by her other who now joined her on the swing.

With a silent, gentle motion, Kasumeii leaned her head over on top of Cress’ shoulder. “Thank you for autumn.”

She knew the credit was not hers to take, but she didn’t reject this. Instead, she turned her head just enough to plant a soft kiss on Kasumeii’s cheek. “The seasons change for you.”

The sun recedes, spreading pink between the sea and sky.

The waves get louder, birds fly home, the sky’s too dark to fly.

Bright orange hair, bright green eyes, she watches the water glow.

Serenity is all she feels; in this place no one else goes.

Darkness comes, the sun is gone, it’s almost time to leave.

There’s seconds left, just little time; one dip, she’ll feel relieved.

Before her feet can touch the sand just shy of dry land’s mark,

She’s hoisted up, into the air! A shock here in the dark!

Relief comes now, more than the water ever could provide,

She’s in arms of comfort, of the one who makes her smile.

The moon lights glitter on the sand, night shimmers in their wake.

In these arms of comfort, now, she feels both loved and safe.

“Can I get some of these, please? Oh, and some of these too... She really loves them!”

I like to imagine Kasumeii goes back to that bakery in Silvermoon regularly to bring @crescendion more tasty treats. She always makes sure to get some gingerbread for her as well. A little sketch to hopefully get me back into a drawing habit! :)

It’s morning, and it’s warm.

It’s morning, and it’s quiet.

It’s morning... and the babies aren’t crying.

She gets up and shuffles her sleepy feet to the door.

She shivers, as it’s less warm out of the bed.

The baby room has the lamp off. There’s no babies...

Now, she shuffles to the living room- the babies are in the playpen, with toys.

Yawning, she sees the angel in the kitchen. She’s making coffee.

She wraps her arms around her angel’s waist, and buries her face in her back. Her goal is a hug, but somewhere along the way she falls asleep. 

...

It’s early afternoon, and it’s warm.

It’s early afternoon, and now the angel is here.

She puts her arms back around her again, and closes her eyes. 

The deep, deep roll of thunder.

It was two in the afternoon, but the sky was darker than most evenings on Orchinet.

Other than the low thunder grumble, the silence was kept at bay by the quick patter of rain on the roof above.

The ground was flooding outside of the patio, and Crescendion felt thankful she was on raised ground. 

Her bright orange hair was longer now; for the first time in years, past her shoulders. It rested on her cream sweater, and served as the most color her simple outfit had.

Peace was the goal here, and that was clear. Spring rains came yearly, and had become the elf’s favorite part of the warmer months.

The patter got heavier, and was broken by a louder crack in the thunder’s roll. Wind now played like strings against the screens around the patio. Occasional leaves blew past, and Crescendion knew the serenity was nearly over.

Behind her, the front door opened then closed. Familiar footsteps made it clear- Kasumeii was home.

The serenity would stay.

@kasumeii —-(@evisane)

It was a weird crew now: six blood elves, two undead, a worgen, a half night elf-half high elf, a dwarf, human, gnome, Draenei, night elf woman, night elf child and Draenei infant. It was almost as if this cast was assembled by some outside force controlling their actions.

But in the wake before sleep, Lyrelark still stirred. Would it be enough?

3: What if I told you that you were pretty?

Lyrelark leaned back and rested his hands behind his head. “I’d say that you clearly have 20/20 vision.”

His father, Albatross, gave him a quick smack on the head and looked away with crossed arms. “I’d tell you that you need the Light.”

Crescendion rolled her eyes at both of them. “I’d thank you, then try and figure out what kind of favor you needed.”

44: What are you listening to right now?

The communication trinket in Lyrelark’s hand was loud and boisterous with the sounds of the various Burning Shield members all going about their work and shenanigans. “Huh? Oh, this. Like I usually do.”

Crescendion took it from his hands. “It’s your day off, so stop. And I’m listening to his heavy breathing from worrying about the Shield.”

Albatross wasn’t even in the room anymore. He was outside somewhere, fighting away undead and zombies. “I’m listening to their screams!” He shouted with his booming voice.

Crescendion shook her head and frowned down at the baby supplies in front of her. The frown wasn’t directed to the supplies themselves, or the age group they were meant for, but the fact that there were three of each.

“You should probably get a spare crib, Lady Crescendion.” An elf man stood beside her, arms folded behind his back. “Not that... It’s any of my business.”

“And it’s not.” Cress commented back quickly, but not sharply. She hesitated and began looking through a rack of onesies, then sighed. “I apologize.”