#sabriella

Daffodil: 

Aria: It’s a toss-up between the snowflake pendant that her Fox gave her- the engagement ring is on a whole other level that can’t be matched- and her daughter’s gift of a pretty rock that Amelia found on their family picnic.

Kei: The magically enhanced rose that Devon gave her; she adores it.

Tabitha: The woman she would consider a sister if it was possible to actually get close to her once brought her a hand-carved rosewood box to hold her runes.

Ciara: Her knee brace which she considers a gift from Millicent Bowyen.

Kyako: The pendant around her throat from her brother Hayate which holds a drop of swamp water from the Kurosawa family’s original home in Cantha.

Sabriella: James once gave her his word. He’s yet to break it.

Vivienne: The sturdy hiking boots were a gift from her mother when she was given the post of librarian to the Nightenveil household. She loves them. 

Paisley:

1. The scar on the top of her right foot is from a dog that attacked her when she was a child. She doesn’t remember it, but large black dogs make her very uneasy even now.

2. While the smell of cinnamon makes her sick to her stomach, the scent of hot, unsugared tea brings a sharp pain of nostalgia and makes her feel at once cared for and very alone.

3. Paisley and the Sculptor = OTP

4. Before her memory loss, she was in the village which burned for the purpose of hiding from a different Sculptor. One that hid in the open without his mask and armour. He is the reason she cannot stand the smell of cinnamon.

5. Her sister was born one year after her and Paisley is directly responsible for her death.

Sabriella:

1. Her addiction to laudanum began due to her mother’s consistent use of the drug to quiet Sabby when she had night terrors.

2. Out of all the books she’s ever read, there is one that deeply frightened her to the point of burning it, considering it spoke of methods to tear a person’s soul out via necromantic rituals.

3. Sabriella’s agoraphobia is being slowly overcome, but her ophidiophobia (fear of snakes) is so pronounced that even the image of one will make her pale.

4. She’s always always wanted to live out a scene from one of her favourite books, but the agoraphobia has prevented her from even attempting such.

 I think Aria might well have a nervous breakdown/hysterical fit afterwards, but if there was absolutely NOTHING she could do- this woman has done CPR on a corpse for over an hour; she does not give up- then she would use every bit of knowledge about the person she could to give them the best possible day ever. It wouldn’t matter how illegal, what it would take, what the consequences would be afterwards for herself. She would put everything at her disposal into giving that person their ideal day.

 Linden would… not be accepting of the whole idea. At all. I’m pretty sure she’d waste half of the day arguing with whoever or whatever gave her that particular deadline and then refuse to admit the truth. …that said, she would cling. Tightly. Especially if it was Redorath. {If it was her son, you can expect that the Temple of the Six would be blown the hell up the moment Toby died.} Even with her clinging, she’d still be raging and refusing to admit anything was going to happen.

 Kyako is well aware of what it is to live with your own end in sight. Her day with her loved one would be quiet. If it was Radaj, it might not be… uh… quite so quiet… >.> <.< … {He’s a construct now, however, so that’s unlikely.} A family member would have everything they enjoy doing in a day silently arranged for them, and Kyako would present a haiku to express her love for them. While there would be some considerable discussion with the rest of her family to see if her sacrifice could avert the oncoming death, she would merely strive to keep their final day filled with good moments and continually remind them of how she values them.

 I’m not sure Kei would be far off from Linden. It might simply boil down to her flat-out refusing to believe anything like that could be measured so specifically and setting out to prove that nope, her loved one wasn’t going to die on the rising dawn. Every minute she could wring from the day would be twisted dry, but she wouldn’t even give the poor person the relief of speaking of what was to come. Any conversation regarding it would be shut down within seconds, and she’d plan exhaustively for the future. 

 In all truth, Sabriella would spend that day planning her own quiet suicide. With very few ‘loved ones’ in her life, if she lost the one that has become her mainstay, she would prepare merely to set things in motion to see that his name was remembered and then end herself. The day would be as quiet, as calm and as peaceful as she could manage, with specific attention paid to fulfilling all of those playful requests she had refused in the past. 

 Par for the course, Ciara would most likely stick it out for most of the day with her jaw clenched, doing what silent things she could to meet her beloved’s requests- that’s a reaaaaaaaaaaaal short list, lemme tell ya- before leaving for a few hours. During that time, she would be seeking any and every possible way to avert the upcoming death and raging in isolated areas about being unable to. She would not, however, leave them to die alone. Terrified of that herself, she’d never inflict it on someone she loved.

 Death and Lachesis {Tabitha} are old acquaintences, and it’s highly unlikely that something as impactful as losing a loved one would come as a surprise to her. She would have spent the previous weeks or months preparing herself (and her loved one) for the eventuality and that day would have been planned long in advance. Although the temptation to attempt to avert the occurrence would hit her, Tabby would settle in to while away the hours and whisper promises of what waited in Grenth’s arms.

*snickers*

 Aria and Kei share the same one: their men. Whether it’s ogling them as covertly as possible, hugging their coats and smelling the leather or just sneaking up on them to administer surprise hugs, both of these ladies love their men. While it’s not actually a guilty pleasure- they’re more than welcome to love all over their gents- it’s something they both try to downplay a bit in conversation.

 Hot baths, complete with suds and a glass of something alcoholic and smooth, are Ciara’s vice. Being such a rarity for her in the ridiculously austere life she chooses to lead, the few times that she’ll splurge on an inn room and have a bath drawn, it’s something she just knows she shouldn’t be doing. However, she loves it.

 Sabriella reads romance novels, and she doesn’t choose between hot bodice-rippers or sappy love stories. She reads them all, rather avidly, and now that she’s married, does so with a little smile before sneaking off to test out some of the damsel’s lines on her husband.

 Saville… has no such thing as a ‘guilty’ pleasure- she’s openly a hedonist- but she doesn’t exactly advertise that she’s very, very fond of pancakes. {Seriously. Girl loves her some pancakes with syrup.}

 Linden’s guilty pleasure is honestly her work. Hearing her swear at a piece of malfunctioning farm equipment, you might not guessed that this is a woman doing what she loves best. Beating on a stuck cog, kicking a thresher that just won’t behave and yelling at the top of her lungs at a recalcitrant water pump is something she secretly and wholly loves doing.

 For Kyako, given free rein as she has been to indulge in whatever she likes whenever she chooses, there’s little that would be considered a guilty pleasure. What she does enjoy, on her own, is sneaking theatre makeup into her room and making herself up. Covering the marks of the yurei’s touch and enhancing herself as best she can, she indulges in feeling beautiful once in a while.

 Aqua eyes regarded the drifting clouds from a patch of grass beneath the forest's edge and she found nothing in the sparkle of visible stars nor the wispy shapes highlit by moonlight.

 Eyes the shade of polished jade, bisected with vertical pupils, narrowed slightly as they tracked a curl of night across the moon's silver glisten, reading a portend there which she found undesirable.

 From beneath a thick haze of rose-red lash, eyes deepened from drowsy turquoise to gleaming peacock blue as the curtain drew back to let moonlight play across her face. 

 Beneath the glint of emerald eyes, fired vividly by the moonlight streaming in through the window, a heavily pregnant woman slept, her own eyes long since closed. 

 Deep green, shaded nearly black by the night's shadows, watched snow drift past the heavy glass, caught the pattern of light over the glistening heaps of white layered across the landscape, and found them beautiful.

 Peridot, shallow and snapping, glanced up once to the cadence of tapping heels against cobblestone and narrowed slightly, judging the clouds for signs of weather incompatible with silken garments.

 Coloured nearly the shade of the stone wall, luminous eyes shifted away from the pale parchment printed with neat black lines of text, followed the curl of amorphous shadow that crossed a handful of stars and sparkled in answer to the night sky.