#istariel

Then the planet herself was stabbed, for crying out loud and we technically released an Old God trying to stop Azshara.

Now this.

Continued from HERE (Witchy Starters)

The warlock snorted, clearly amused by Jaina’s words, rather than affronted. “By all means, Archmage, go ahead, stare at the package all day,” she sighed dramatically. As if she didn’t know Jaina was curious to see what was inside the thing.

Sure enough, she set about unwrapping it a few moments later, her eyes going wide at the dress revealed once the package was finally opened,even as Istariel appraised both dress and woman with a critical eye. Yes, the colors were a perfect choice, even unworn, she could tell the lavish greens would compliment Jaina’s complexion perfectly and the subtle pearls and crystals would add just the right amount of sparkle. No eye would remain unturned if the blonde went about in that outfit, she was sure of that much.

Which is why she shook her head and took a step back, when Jaina Proudmoore tried to hand the package back to her. “No,”she said simply. “A gift is a gift and I will not take it back, especially when I can see it will look perfect on you. And besides it’s not just a pretty dress,” she smiled faintly. “One has to look their absolute best when fighting off the likes of demons and villains that constantly beset our home, doesn’t she?” she shrugged amusedly. “An Archmage more than anyone else, for that matter.”

@earelloxtiruvai

Jaina raised her eyes to Istariel, caught between guilt and gratitude. She opened her mouth to keep insisting but closed it again, thinking better of it.  Suddenly overcome with emotion, she lept forward and embraced the unsuspecting sin'dorei fiercely.  It wasn't a gentle hug that gave the elf any space to breathe. Jaina hugged her with the full force of her appreciation, capturing her longer than what may have been entirely appropriate. Istariel's gift came to her as light from the sun, the sentiment as warm as the touches of those gentle rays.

Witchy Starters!

@earelloxtiruvai

Jaina feigns a look of shock at the insinuation. “And ruin that beautiful dress?? Honestly Istariel, if I’ve learned anything from you it’s how to truly appreciate quality fashion.”

“However, if you’d like to bequeath the dress to me in a final gesture of kindness, I’m sure a bonfire this evening can be arranged,” she winks.

earelloxtiruvai

The warlock smirked, green eyes flashing with amusement at the archmage’s utterly unamused tone.

“I would never, not even if I did, in fact, need help; which I won’t,” she stated at the other’s words, stepping forward as Jaina stepped aside. “And that is, I believe, a pirate ship. I figure we’ll be doing your people a favor,” she shrugged coolly.

Istariel sighed very dramatically at the conspiratorial whisper. “I know what sails are, you know,” she pointed out, clicking her fingers to summon a small group of imps. “Lower the sails. Slowly,” she instructed evenly. ‘We may want to step out of the way…They don’t always understand things like ‘slowly…” she added a moment later, nodding to Jaina as the first sail came down in a hasty flurry,with a sound like snapping wood in its wake.

@earelloxtiruvai

Jaina opened her mouth to retort but closed it again, disappointed as she watched a bunch of imps scurry up the mast and get to work. She did as she was told and stepped aside....behind Istariel.

"That’s cheating,” she remarked with a sigh.

“And yes, this is a pirate ship. I suspect your demons will feel right at home among such depravity.” She frowned as she watched an imp place a discarded, ragged pirate hat on and bounce around happily.

The warlock sauntered into the room, not even bothering to knock.She’d no real reason to come in here, but she was curious, for one thing; for another,she was trying to lose a rather persistent follower. She was doing him a kindness, she huffed to herself, as she closed the door behind her and leant against it for a moment; she was itching to vaporize him instead, she thought darkly.

Body Language

repost, don’t reblog

bold what you apply to your muse. italicise what applies, but isn’t oftentimes established in detail.

DEFENSIVENESS :

arms crossed on chest • crossing legs • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger • karate chops • the fig leaf position.

REFLECTIVE :

hand - to - face gestures • head tilted • stroking chin • peering over glasses • taking glasses off — cleaning • putting earpiece of glasses in mouth • pipe smoker gestures • putting hand to bridge of nose.

SUSPICION :

arms crossed • sideways glance • touching or rubbing nose • rubbing eyes • hands resting on weapon.

OPENNESS   &   COOPERATION :

open hands • upper body in sprinters position • sitting on edge of chair • hand - to - face gestures • unbuttoned coat • tilted head.

CONFIDENCE :

hands behind back • hands of lapels of coat • steepled hands.

INSECURITY   &   ANXIETY :

chewing pen or pencil • rubbing thumb over opposite thumb • biting fingernails • hands in pockets• elbow bent / closed gestures • clearing throat •   “ whew ” sound • picking or pinching flesh •fidgeting in chair • hand covering mouth whilst speaking • poor eye contact • tugging at pants whilst seated • jingling money in pockets • tugging at ear • perspiring hands • playing with hair • swaying • playing with pointer / marker • smacking lips • sighing.

FRUSTRATION :

short breaths •  “ tsk ” sound • tightly clenched hands • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger• rubbing hand through hair • rubbing back of neck •snarling.

Tagged By: @lady-proudmoore​

Well, this was just splendid, Istariel quietly groaned to herself as she landed her flying demonc horse and caught a glimpse of the familiar figure standing right outside the latticed iron gate leading into the-now, mostly abandoned,save for the demons-tower of Karazhan.

Khadgar had mentioned he had sent word to one of  the Kirin Tor to aid with the search he’d sent the warlock off to. Now, said warlock understood why the ever- cheerful archmage seemed rather apprehensive saying this.

She may look older, and with much better fashion sense, but there was no mistaking Jaina Proudmoore; formerly of the Kirin Tor, the archmage who had gone AWOL when the demons had descended not to be heard from again all  this time.

Until now, apparently. How lucky was she, Istariel sighed to herself, dismissing her demonic mount with a snap of her fingers.

It was hardly the first time the warlock did this sort of thing; it would not be the last, either, Istariel sighed to herself, muttering a spell under her breath.

Some sort of powerful demon had taken up residence in the middle of these lands, her information had said. Nothing new there, really, was it?

Only she had hardly expected to come across what seemed like a solid gold temple in the middle of what she knew to be barren, inhospitable lands; and she had most definitely not expected armed guards and a veritable army of supplicants crowding the entrance to said temple, each clamouring to serve the ‘goddess.’

The redhead watched the proceedings through sharp, narrowed eyes for a long while before deciding that she, at least, needed another way in. If this was indeed a demon...it was a powerful one, she was aware of that.

Nothing a warlock, trained to deal with this sort of thing, couldn’t handle, though. She figured she could banish or bind...or kill, if things got too out of control; presumably that would negate the creature’s influence on the poor folls clustering beyond their gates.

Istariel snapped her fingers and one of her own minions appeared next to her, a dark void portal shimmering back into oblivion as the creature, a massive winged being with claws and fangs towered over her, straightening, already poised for a fight.

The dark corridor she had found herself in- having snuck into the construct, opened up into brightly lit chambers, the walls themselves gilded with gold. Handmaidens and servants-all attractive young humans, barely dressed-occupied the space; none paid any mind to her, which was curious.

The warlock paused, spotting the center of everyone’s attention easily enough. The woman, clad in gold herself, managed to glitter more than the gilded room around her and, for the briefest moment, Istariel paused, just staring at her. 

Then she shook her head, recovering her senses. There was magic at work here, she reminded herself, Nothing she saw was real, in all likelihood. 

“Watch my back,” she murmured to her demon guardian, the creature nodding with a somewhat concerned hum; he clearly didn’t like this at all either, she thought, as she drew closer to  the gold-clad female, her guardian falling behind her to do as asked.