{o} everything you say will show me the way

[THE QUEENLING FEYETTE]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=CCCCCC] everything you say will show me the way,

[/size] open[/font][/center][/size]

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

this thread stars the magnificent feyette and is stationed in swamps of the forest. the weather of this particular night happens to be muggy & clear but that may or may not be relevant, because this thread is outside. the word count for this post is hur and the muse music is provided by i'm not alone by micheal fantti. over all, i feel blah about this post. all your creditz belong to halö, gurren lagaan person, the background idea to riot & the guy whom i ripped this icon off. the chat color for this character is 669999. extra comments include: fey first post yes >8u

[/justify][/center][/font]

the bullfrogs in the swamp let out a loud croak, but the figure did not even budge. it continued to croak, joined in by others around it until it made a sort of chorus, serenading the princess in this late hours of the night, surrounding her with a sudden feeling of happiness. she could see lightening bugs flickering around above the swamp surface, and once in a while, one of them would disappear and she knew that a bullfrog had probably snatched it up for it's late night snack. the weather was muggy and humid; so much that feyette had tied her hair into a large braid in the back of her head, secured at the very end with a piece of vine she had found while trekking through the forest. there was no breeze; nothing could penetrate these thick woodland swamp trees. they covered the sky like a canopy of green clouds, thick with vines and spider webs and who knows what else. most of the trees sprouted right from the swamp ground, standing tall in the middle of the murky, thick and syrupy brown mud that surrounded them. those trees provided so many creatures a home; even at this time of day, she could see creatures stirring in their sleep, cuddling safe with their kin in their nests, or creatures waking up to begin their day.

many people thought the swamp was a terrible, disgusting thing. anyone whom was bound to go into it would leave with their feet dirty up to their knees, and their arms bitten off by insects. feyette was no different; everytime she had entered the swamp, she left muddy (sometimes from head to toe from falling into the swamp), itchy, even a little bit hurting. the only difference is, most of the time, feyette left the swamp with a smile on her face. sure, there was times when a particularly bad insect bite would get her, especially when she was younger, and she would go running home back to her castle, crying, but the poison would always be extracted, and so far, feyette had never gotten in a very life-threatening pinch... well, yet, of course.

in fact, you must give the young princess props. she had not snuck out during the night for five months now; it was a slight accomplishment on her part, concluding that in her younger days, she would sneak off constantly. but ever since she 'settled down' the princess had not even much time to sneak off. her queenling duties would take a toll on her, and she would collapse on the bed, already asleep, without even so much as telling her bodyguards good night and to wake up hearty and well in the morning, like she did every night. but today was an exception; it had been relatively peaceful, and that night, as fey had laid in bed, she decided it was time to chill out a little bit.

so what did the young queenling do? she put on her cloak and trekking outfit (which was simply a loose white shirt and stable-boy brown pants that rolled up to her knees) and snuck off the castle, out her balcony, and down the vines that attached themselves to the castle. when she had been younger, there would usually be a guardman on constant watch right underneath her balcony to stop her exactly from this chore (though that hadn't stopped her; she would have climbed half the length of the castle to get away back in that time) but nowadays, the post was empty, seeing as most people thought the queenling had finally become very submissive to her duties. feyette had left one an inkling of knowledge for someone if they would come into the room; a small note, scribbled in her loopy handwriting, on the nightstand near her bed, which said; "i am fine, do not look for me or else i will be angry" next to the words was a small, scrawled little picture of a blob that looked like it was frowning with a puffball of hair that was no doubt trying to depict feyette herself; but the notion was so laughable, one could simply not have taken this seriously. this had been the standard of any time when she would sneak out at night; fey would always leave a note to mean that she has not been kidnapped, but would never tell exactly where. after time, though, most people would figure out where she was anyways, since feyette generally followed a pattern of where she snuck off to at night, based on her mood during the day.

today, her mood had dictated the swamp. she trekked through the forest, not minding the sharp prickle of undergrowth below her bare feet. before she had arrived to the swamp, her feet had already been covered in mud and she was scratching er ankle constantly from an itch. the arrival of the swamp scenery was a relief to feyette; the noises soothed her, lulled her into a harmonious state. she found a nice fallen over tree trunk to sit on above the swamp; that is, a tree that had bent over on the shore to allow perfect access to be just above the swamp but not in it. feyette straddled the tree, sitting at the very end and dipping her feet into the murky waters, watching the scenery before her, generally relaxing, and beginning to hum a soft song that her mother sometimes hummed to the little queenling herself.

[/font][/justify]

[/td][/tr][/table]

[TÝR EPSILON]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=e9e9e9] --------------------------------------- SPOTLIGHTS, BRIGHT LIGHTS AND NEON RAYS OF ENERGY POUR FROM BACKDROPS AND BEYOND MUSIC HITS YOU SO HARD YOU CAN'T BLINK OR SEE ON A SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM BUT STILL WE REACH FREEDOM ❚TYR STRODE DOWN THE GLOWING CORRIDOR, passing by bellflower lamps and stained-glass lilies that entwined around colossal marble pillars in the sombre blue darkness of the night. Their effect graced the late hours warmly, and reflected a clear apparition of the blonde-haired unicorn knight upon the glass marble floors as he continued to walk steadily, the chinks in his armour plates ringing a light sound in a rhythm. Lately, his heart was feeling a little better, never quite so gripped with the unease of Princess Feyette's nightly outings without warning. Of course, Fenrir placed much faith in the fairy Queen-to-be; but it was a little too much faith, Tyr had reasoned bitterly, or was it just mere laziness of his partner to turn a blind eye upon such activities of the Princess? He heaved a sigh as he continued his late-night promenade through Ringford Palace, and paused in his patrol once he reached the confines of the Princess' Royal Chamber. ❚SHE HAD GONE STRAIGHT TO BED THAT NIGHT, never so much giving him, nor to Fenrir or Skadi, a chance to bid her good night. It was understandable; although things have dimmed down lately, she had been quite busy the past few months gathering her bearings together with her royal duties and studies. Tyr was, as expected, thrilled to say in the least to see the Princess working hard to become the ideal Queen she so desired, and had become rather unconsciously lenient with her whims and biddings. As he recalled her earnest face as she pondered over her etiquette lessons, he situated himself in front of her bedroom doors, relaxing slightly yet ready to draw his sword at the slightest movement that might indicate an intruder. It was only a matter of a few minutes when a elven servant came scrambling from the other side of the bowl-shaped hallway, her white face and panic-stricken with terror. Tyr looked at her worriedly, his heart dreading the possibility that Feyette might have... ❚"GONE. SHE'S GONE. AFTER FIVE MONTHS OF...!" The servant threw her hands up in exasperation, looking ragged and worn. Tyr could only presume she had searched the entire castle for the princess, hoping perhaps the Princess might have been hungry for a midnight snack instead of reverting back to her wanderlust ways. Alas, Feyette was rarely the case to go out of her way to sneak some food for her stomach. She was the Princess, for heaven's sake. "...Damn." Tyr slammed a palm against her door, easing the heavy set doors open. The servant looked less than pleased at his less-than-polite actions, but nevertheless followed the blonde-haired unicorn knight inside, tight-lipped. Tyr strode into the moonlit chamber, immediately noticing with a wary, sharp eye at the untouched covers of her bed, and the open portal of her windows, curtains sailing peacefully in the pleasant, night breeze. "When did you last see her?" Tyr inquired tightly, his iron-plated glove grasping the piece of paper Feyette had left behind, reading her message with blank eyes. "About an hour ago, she said she was going to retire early... I forgot to change her water jug and I came to check up on her again a few minutes ago... she was gone then..." The maid trailed off pointedly, staring at Tyr anxiously. "Are you...?" ❚"FIND HER? THAT IS MY JOB, ISN'T IT?" Tyr replied snappishly, and she visibly winced. He tightened the strap around his wrist guard before quickly striding towards the palace gates. Picking up a small bag of provisions, Tyr strapped on his lance which was sheathed in a coarse leather sling, his Felacius shield upon his right armour plate, and was out the door before anyone could say a word, Fa'Spiel hanging by his hip. He had a small notion of where she went. If the Princess wanted alone time, then Elrit Forest would be the only possible and closest place for her to escape to. Tyr gritted his teeth, gazing at a few Elf Hunters flying fluidly past him as they finished their patrol rounds outside of the palace walls. If only he was capable of flight - well, that would make his job a lot less difficult, wouldn't it? TAGGED FEYETTE, OPEN • WORDS 698 LYRICS ORCHESTRAS, SPOTLIGHTS, TURNTABLES BY EPIK HIGH MUSIC WE CAN HEAR YOUR PULSE BY ORIGA NOTES TYR IS COMING FOR YOUUUU * 3 *

[THE QUEENLING FEYETTE]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=CCCCCC] everything you say will show me the way,

[/size] open[/font][/center][/size]

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

this thread stars the magnificent feyette and is stationed in swamps of the forest. the weather of this particular night happens to be muggy & clear but that may or may not be relevant, because this thread is outside. the word count for this post is 700-something and the muse music is provided by some french song. over all, i feel alright about this post. all your creditz belong to halö, gurren lagaan person, the background idea to riot & the guy whom i ripped this icon off. the chat color for this character is 669999. extra comments include: yeeeeees . sorry, i sped things up to when he found her; i hope you don't mind? ;u;

[/justify][/center][/font]

ten minutes passed in silence, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. the sounds of the swamp were the only thing to emit any sort of noise; echoing through the canopy of greenery, but lost outside of it. a sleepy sort of lull came about the princess; wrapping her up in a tightly wound blanket that threatened to send her napping on that very tree trunk. she went so much as to lay down fully on the tree trunk, belly up, looking up at the vines and woods above her, the insects drifting by lazily above and the hooting of the owls announcing that although they were unseen, but surely present.

after some time, feyette found herself trying very hard to keep awake. her eyelids wished to close themselves, and yawns kept escaping her lips. she was determined, though, to stay for at least ten more minutes; the swamp was the perfect spa for her, a place to relax and escape from everything that has been revolving around her.

her thoughts began to drift; first, to the castle, which was about three quarters of an hour worth of walking away, and how she had to resort to sneaking through the stables and tipping off the young, albeit very confused, stable boy there with some gold pieces. she hoped the boy wouldn't rat; it was a new one, a young lass that replaced the old stable-hand which seemed to have a mixture of amusement and pity for the princess, thus often letting her sneak through the stables and into the city outside. the city.. her thoughts took a turn once again the the thing that had been bothering her for about four years now, ever since feyette had began to become active in her queenling duties.

the ideas of her subjects. the war was progressing fair, but what if it would take a turn for the worst suddenly? what if that sort of things would fall into her mother's lap? what if those sort of things would fall into her lap? feyette cringed to herself. the kingdom did not have the highest opinion of their darling princess; in fact, most of them thought of her as fickle and shallow, with a loose head filled with nothing but air and whimsical nonsense. 'i suppose i can not dispute that,' she thought, 'since i was never much the queenling.. but i am trying.' a sigh passed her lips, and feyette brought her muddy hands to her eyes, rubbing them and not caring much for the tracking of dirt. for a second, she held her head in her hands, letting this built-up pessimistic premonition of failure slowly gather around her, her sunny disposition having vanished for a second to be replaced by all of her deepest insecurities.

as soon as this moment came, though, the moment passed. for all of feyette's flaws, one may say that her most redeemable one would be the fact that no matter what, the princess always managed to get back up onto her two own feet, almost never requiring help while she was at it. the thought was banished from her mind, instead, replaced by an urge to make her hands useful.

her attention would drift to a piece of lovely growth on the ground, near the shore. they were a very prominent type of flower; with many numbered, seemingly iridescent petals that peeled from the center elegantly. the perfect flower for a daisy chain. slowly, the princess got up to her feet on the trunk of the tree, walking down the lumber slowly, keeping her balance well until she could hop the small distance down and retrieve the flowers.

and with that, feyette sat down at the base of the trunk, and began to slowly bend the stem of the sprout to her will. her fingers worked quickly and gently, yet firmly, locking in each stick of greenery with the other, but placing the flowers in such a way that they complimented eachother; not too squished, but not too far apart. to anyone it was clear that the princess must have had a long time of practice in making daisy chains, which was very true. a hobby she had picked up from her youthful escapades, feyette almost had an unnatural bend towards the forest and nature in itself, maybe owing to her line of heritage. alas, it was a wonder how she seemed to be so affiliated with every living thing around her; with all the night trips she had made into the dangerous forest, it was a wonder how feyette was still alive today. but creatures never seemed to bother her much, and while she can not say that she had never seen anything spooky in this dense woods, feyette can honestly say that none of them seemed to be purely intent on attacking her. in fact, a few of them had once spotted her, sniffed the air, and simply walked away, leaving a very frightened, very surprised, very grateful feyette in their wake.

none of this was ever told, though, to the court, to her mother, not even to her bodyguards, for fear of inspiring some kind of superstition around her, which seemed to be the last thing she needed. everyone around her simply thought that the princess must have ungodly extraordinarily luck, and that someone in the heavens was very intent on keeping her alive.

anyways, back to the princess. she sat still, her fingertips now green from handling the plant, but still winding the small tiara of flowers, which was now beginning to shape a sort of form. it had been at this exact moment that she heard a rustle; a rather loud one, at that, a sort of ruckus that one would generate when they were in a desperate hurry.

'or,' reasoned feyette, 'when an animal was exceptionally hungry. . .' with her heart suddenly jumping into her throat, a streak of panic had overcome the princess. she had never been one to handle nervous situations very well, and this was no exceptional. in fact, the young queenling handled it in the worst way possible, which would soon reflect in the consequences.

feyette half gasped, half choked out of fright, grabbed the half-finished daisy chain, and wheeled herself all the way up to the very tippy top of the trunk of the tree that leaned over the swamp, to the very fragile end. she stood there for a second, looking in onto the brush, pulling her hood over her head and generally trembling like a leaf.

she had been about to ask exactly what was lurking in the shadows (just in case a human voice answered, though this was almost for her own sake; she would have rather met a being in the forest than a hungry animal anyday, but what kind of person would wander around in the middle of the swamp at night?) when she heard a very creaking sort of crack, and looked right down to her feet just in time to see the tip of the tree that she had been standing on break right in two. the princess let out a strangled half-yelp which was cut off short as she was plunged into the depths of the swamp. albeit, the water was not very high; it reached to about her chest, but the shock of it all made feyette's legs collapse in. the princess dropped like a heavy stone, submerged up in the grimy waters around her.

[/font][/justify]

[/td][/tr][/table]

[TÝR EPSILON]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=e9e9e9] --------------------------------------- SPOTLIGHTS, BRIGHT LIGHTS AND NEON RAYS OF ENERGY POUR FROM BACKDROPS AND BEYOND MUSIC HITS YOU SO HARD YOU CAN'T BLINK OR SEE ON A SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM BUT STILL WE REACH FREEDOM ❚THE PROGRESSION OF THE NIGHT WAS AT ITS DARKEST HOUR. Tyr had made godspeed with his untimely journey towards Elrit Forest. He had taken a horse from the palace stables to quicken the pace up, and had anchored it by a grazing fence outside of the forest. The horse seemed reluctant to follow him inside, which was somewhat unnatural since the forest was normally peaceful, and at times, a safe haven for animals. Regardless, Tyr sensed the anxiety old Riley was emitting, and knotted the reins as tightly as he could to the old piece of fence. Riley grounded the grass with his hooves nervously, tail swishing in nervousness as he watched his blonde rider march off into the dark woods. ❚BLACK LEAVES AND DARK EARTH GREETED HIM, their ghostly silhouettes and shadows dancing in a wild rondo as unfaithful moonlight fluttered here and there under the influence of the intoxication clouds. Jagged patches of white light would strike his face within a flicker of a second as he walked along the small forest trail, giving the entire atmosphere a sense of unfamiliar mystery. Tyr paused to listen, but he could only hear his own breathing, and the quite chime of crickets and croak of frogs from the swamp nearby. The birds were silent. There was nothing but the forest and him. Gritting his teeth, Tyr pressed on, his steel-heeled boots defiantly pressing into the damp soil as he continued to trek through the canopy of wild things. ❚THE CHORUS OF THE NIGHT FROGS GREW LOUDER, so loud until Tyr swore he could hear their low croaking ringing in his ears. There was a large shrub of swamp growth blocking his path that ran all the way along the long stream of thick water. Glancing around, with the sounds of the forest at night filling his ears, Tyr contemplated if there was an alternative route when he heard a rustling in the reed bushes nearby. Instinctively his hand flew to the handle of Fa'Spiel, but he stopped himself. Perhaps it was the Princess? Tyr's fingers tightened around the rapier's handle regardless, and with one motion of his arm, he drew out his sword, cutting down the stalks of grass that hindered his way. Running out towards the surprisingly luminous clearing of the swamp, he spotted a large shadow heavily moving along the rim of the swamp. ❚AND THEN HE HEARD A SPLASH OF WATER. His gaze was torn away from the hulk of a shadow just in time to see a pair of fairy wings submerge themselves into the lapping black water of the swamp. A coldness squeezed his chest, and throwing Judex and Fielacius down on the swamp bed, he ran into the water, waves billowing from his sluggish struggle to reach the last glimmer of vibrant blue. A half-finished flower crown of daisies floated upon the water placidly, as if to confirm his fears that it was Princess Feyette, after all. There was not much time to think logically at this point, wherein Tyr dove into the murky waters, treading downwards in its grimy depths. His eyes traced the blurry outline of the small princess, her skin glowing a pale white from the filtering rays of moonlight above. Swimming towards her furiously, Tyr ignored the draining heaviness of his armour plate that was dragging him downwards. As he reached for her, he wound an arm around her waist, and kicked off the riverbed, slowly ascending as a cloud of sediments burst into a formation. Aquatic growth swayed and waved as Tyr's hand broke the surface of the water - it wasn't too deep thankfully, but the water bed was so soft he wasn't surprised if his foot might be lodged in the sticky swamp mud, drowning him. He gasped for air as his head broke into the atmosphere of the night air, breathing heavily for a moment before swimming ashore, keeping Feyette's head above the line of water as much as possible. ❚HE COLLAPSED ONTO A BED OF WET GRASS, with the princess lying unconscious beside him. He was never fond of swimming, and unlike Skadi who seemed have have an affinity for it, he prefered someplace high up. But regardless, he managed to push out the last bit of water in his lungs and wiped his mouth, turning towards Feyette. Wet locks of her blue-blonde hair sprawled themselves out messily, soaked entirely from her almost-drowning. "Lady Feyette, can you hear me?" Tyr questioned sharply, before placing a hand over her mouth, hovering to feel for a breath. A small exhale came, but it was so weak it wasn't normal. "Prin..." Tyr started again, before quickly seizing her and seated the fairy princess upright. "Princess, are you alright?!" He barraged again, but heard no answer. Wiping a trail of water from her forehead, he pushed her wet locks away, and laid her back down, shaking nervously. Well, he had been taught a bit about the basics of saving people from injuries, and drowning was no exception... except that he wasn't exactly prepared to... ❚"FORGIVE ME!" Tyr quickly apologized aloud, hoping the angels in heaven wouldn't smite him for what he was about to do next. Pressing a palm upon the grass beside her head, he quickly gathered his composure before leaning down to deliver her air to revitalize her faintly beating heart. It was for the sake of the Princess, right? TAGGED FEYETTE, OPEN • WORDS 897 LYRICS ORCHESTRAS, SPOTLIGHTS, TURNTABLES BY EPIK HIGH MUSIC EVERYTIME YOU KISSED ME BY FICTION JUNCTION HOSHIKUZU BY FICTION JUNCTION NOTES I LIKE UNNECESSARY DRAMA

[THE QUEENLING FEYETTE]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=CCCCCC] everything you say will show me the way,

[/size] open[/font][/center][/size]

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

this thread stars the magnificent feyette and is stationed in swamps of the forest. the weather of this particular night happens to be muggy & clear but that may or may not be relevant, because this thread is outside. the word count for this post is 600-something and the muse music is provided by some french song. over all, i feel alright about this post. all your creditz belong to halö, gurren lagaan person, the background idea to riot & the guy whom i ripped this icon off. the chat color for this character is 669999. extra comments include: LOL. as do i, my friend, as do i 8|

[/justify][/center][/font]

If one were to tell her that this would happen before this incident, Feyette would have simply laughed at them. If one were to tell her the probability of her stepping on an unstable branch, slamming down into the murky waters of the swamp, incidentally hitting her head on a slightly large stone that poked from the muddy depths, and then getting her left foot stuck in the mud, rendering itself altogether impossible for her to have gotten back up to the surface without some kind of help, well.. Fey can safely say that she would have ignored this person, telling them that the probability of it happening was extremely slim.

And speaking of probability, what were the odds that the noise that Feyette heard was not in fact, an animal as she had convinced herself it was, but rather, actually one of her personal guards, coming to seek her out? And what was the probability that this guard happened to arrive within thirty or so seconds, enough time for him to slam right in the water, secure the Princess and drag her back to the safety of the shore instead of drowning, as she would have if he had not come?

Well, technically speaking, Feyette wasn’t really thinking of the odds or the probability. Nor was she thinking about how grateful she was for the fact that the animal turned out to be just Tyr, and how grateful she was that he actually spotted her collapsing into the water, instead of thinking it was just some branch that snapped out of old age. In fact, Feyette wasn’t really thinking of anything at all. She was hardly aware when Tyr dragged her to the shore, and only vaguely, maybe in a deep subconscious level, aware that he was shaking and yelling at her.

She wasn’t even aware when he began to perform CPR, which, if Feyette was conscious, she would have most certainly noticed. But for at least half a minute, she was still (blissfully) unaware. But the water that had found its way into her lungs had to come out, especially with Tyr’s breaths helping it out of her system. Her body reactivated itself, her eyes slowly blinking to a half-opened gaze upwards at the heavens, and she seemed to be conscious enough to realize the one thing that seemed to be unignorable; the fact that there was a slight pressure on her mouth, and that slight pressure happened to be delivered from Tyr’s lips.

Of course, the princess still seemed to be out of it, and the thought only vaguely reached her mind (though it was accompanied with another thought, but for the sake of saving the young queen’s pride and dignity, let’s not bring that up, shall we?) before the body’s natural reaction began to take a hold of her. After all, the water that had found its way into her lungs must come out some way. There was a labored cough, and then another, and soon she found herself coughing away until all of the water in her lungs had been extracted, at which point her body seemed to resign to inhaling short, raspy breaths. For half a minute, the princess laid rather, breathing and her head swimming, her head emitting a gentle throb somewhere in the back, though she was only dimly aware of this.

Finally, she seemed to regain some kind of control over herself, and her mind came spinning back to her. It so happened that the first thing that came spinning back to her was the kiss (if you could call it that). Her eyes went wide (wider than they usually did) and a bright streak of red came flaming over her pale cheeks, and she simply hoped that it was too dark for Tyr to see it. Almost out of natural reaction, she sat up, and began to bark out orders in a loud, flustered, and rather confused way.

“Tyr! What’re you doing, skulking around in the woods?! Was that you I heard?! Why were you making so much noise, you great big elephant you made me scared and go up the branch and then it cracked and you FOOL! What’s wrong with you?! Are you so clumsy you can’t wander around the forest at night without making such a racket?! What kind of Unicorn Knight are you?! I’ll be sure to tell you division about this!”

She took a deep breath, coughed again, and then ran a hand through her hair, her features twisted into a picture perfect expression of deep annoyance. Though, truthfully, why she was so annoyed, she didn’t really know herself. After all, she should have been grateful; he had just saved her life. This thought only made her pout more (and blush more) and made her try undo all the knots in her wet hair, brushing it along with her fingers to one side, her wings drooping behind her rather pathetically, dripping wet. “Ugh, I’m soaked..”

[/font][/justify]

[/td][/tr][/table]

[TÝR EPSILON]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=e9e9e9] --------------------------------------- SPOTLIGHTS, BRIGHT LIGHTS AND NEON RAYS OF ENERGY POUR FROM BACKDROPS AND BEYOND MUSIC HITS YOU SO HARD YOU CAN'T BLINK OR SEE ON A SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM BUT STILL WE REACH FREEDOM ❚WHEN SHE HAD STIRRED AWAKE, Tyr immediately flinched back, cringing for whatever retaliation she was about to deliver. She coughed, and forced the water out of her lungs as she did so, suffering a painful moment as she parched her throat of fluid. Tyr loosened slightly, looking rather concerned and worried but relieved all at the same time. She seemed to have gotten it all out of her system, and by now was looking at him in a rather confused fashion. "Ah, are you feeling alright now? We should get you back to the -" He was cut off when Feyette blossomed into a long string of angry accusations, and he bit back his words and listened patiently as she continued to ramble heatedly at him. Ah, so he was the reason why she fell into the swamp. Tyr kneaded his temple with his fingers and a small sigh escaped him. ❚"STOP, OR THE BLOOD WOULD GO RUSHING TOWARDS YOUR HEAD." Tyr interrupted her firmly, his eyes concentrating at the top of her head. There was something unnatural about it - though her usual volume of locks were flattened by the water, there was a visible lump beneath it. By the time she had reached the point of threatening to tear up his reputation into shambles Tyr instinctively leaned over and placed a hand over her head. He could feel the hot swell of a bump forming at the back of her head. Genuinely surprised, he leaned in closer for a better look, gingerly fingering the long tresses of her hair. "Did you hit your head when you fell in the water?" Tyr asked worriedly, before inspecting her arm for any scratches. "Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?" His previous anger over her disappearance was fading away as he continued to fret over her wellbeing. It had become a natural thing for Tyr now, to fuss over the princess, making sure she wasn't harmed. ❚THE NIGHT SKY WAS SHINING, as the bout of clouds had dispersed and made way for the sea of stars that were attempting to drown out the moon itself in terms of extravagance. Tyr silently watched Feyette as she muttered another complaint while trying to untangle her locks. "I'm glad that you're safe. Did you know how much trouble you caused back at the palace?" Tyr lectured her sternly, a cross frown overwhelming his features. "You've been doing well the past few months, why must you wander off without telling me? What if you were severely injured by someone or something, or even have gotten yourself killed?" Tyr faintly could feel his words speeding up as emotion started to pile on top of one another like a clumsy tower of cards. So he stopped. And inhaled deeply. ❚"BUT I'M JUST GLAD YOU'RE SAFE." He heaved a sigh, before standing back up and picking up his lance and shield he had discarded when he jumped into the swamp to save her. He was about to offer her a hand when that feeling of unease came washing over him. Tyr then felt a slight tremor rippling across the grass, and for the first time the frogs and the crickets had fallen silent. There was nothing but the sound of the wind touching the still waters of the swamp. As he had thought... there was something lurking out there in the woods other than himself. Readying Fielacius with his right arm, he drew Judex from its sheath, slowly anticipating on what was about to come. Was it possibly related to that large, looming shadow he had spotted before he dove into the water for Feyette? ❚HIS SUSPICIONS WERE CONFIRMED CORRECT when a huge beast came prowling out into the open swamp. Its purple skin and wrinkled, deformed human face was mutated into a murderous, hungry scowl as all three pairs of its jaws clicked noisily at the sight of the two elves. A lion paw stepped forwards menacingly, and its scorpion tail waved back and forth, tentatively considering whom to strike down first. "Tch... a manticore beast." Tyr replied quietly, stepping in front of Feyette protectively. He raised his lance against the chimera beast, as if daring it to come closer - yet his face was full of infallible concentration, it was hard to discern his actions from the silent words he was speaking. ❚"LEAVE THIS TO ME, LADY FEYETTE." He asked calmly, briefly turning to face his princess. "Don't move a muscle, once I'm done I'll take you back to the castle to get your wounds healed up." Tyr vowed, before quickly charging into the clearing to intercept the ferocious jaws of the manticore as it lunged for both him and Feyette at that instant. Battering it back with his shield, he quickly countered with a quick strike of his lance back at it, spearing its shoulder. It howled in pain, but it wasn't down yet. Sulking backwards, it snarled threateningly before its barbed tail whipped into the air, preparing to fire a volley of poisonous darts. TAGGED FEYETTE, OPEN • WORDS 835 LYRICS ORCHESTRAS, SPOTLIGHTS, TURNTABLES BY EPIK HIGH MUSIC FAREWELL, BY CHATA NOTES AND NOW WE HAVE ACTION \O/

[THE QUEENLING FEYETTE]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=CCCCCC] everything you say will show me the way,

[/size] open[/font][/center][/size]

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

this thread stars the magnificent feyette and is stationed in swamps of the forest. the weather of this particular night happens to be muggy & clear but that may or may not be relevant, because this thread is outside. the word count for this post is 750-something and the muse music is provided by hoppipolla by sigur ros. over all, i feel blah :c about this post. all your creditz belong to halö, gurren lagaan person, the background idea to riot & the guy whom i ripped this icon off. the chat color for this character is 669999. extra comments include: AND MYSTERY ~!

[/justify][/center][/font]

it would only take a second for feyette to feel guilty about snapping at tyr like that. just a minute, a mere minute, for her temper to usually subside into an awkward apology. it was much quicker than with other people, but then again, feyette was almost always quick to apologize to her bodyguards, unless they had done something to really evoke her fury. but for the most part, feyette always had a very big guilty conscious about everything she put her bodyguards through. well, usually.

tyr’s interruption of her speech, though, did nothing to subside her unusual anger. well, to be truthful, it wasn't very unusual; feyette could get angry for no reason almost all the time, just like she could be happy for no reason just as easily. but the point here is that, usually, feyette's anger would have quietly curled up in a dark corner somewhere and whimpered for the past half hour as it tried to spout out an apology. but tyr's actions seemed to have only fed the fire, and she shot him a look that could make even the prettiest of plants wither at the sight of it.

but she said nothing. instead, feyette gave him a pouty expression and turned her face away, continuing to rake her fingers through her locks, obviously trying to give her bodyguard the silent treatment for ending her rant so soon. but when he touched the bump on her head, she quickly sprang into action. pain erupted from the spot, and feyette cringed, instinctively putting her hand onto tyr's, almost as if trying to pry his hand away. "ow. no, don't do that. that hurts." she looked back up at him, seeming to forget her silent vow to never speak nor look at him again, responding with; "i don't know, and oh my royalties, would you stop fussing tyr? i'm perfectly well. what are you, my mother?" she attempted to push his hands away, and in essence, also soothe his worrying. not only because when he seemed so flustered, feyette often felt like a child, but also because his worrying made her somehow wary.

feyette had almost forgotten her anger when he launched in on a lecture, which most definitely did not help. her eyebrows knit together once more, and she spared tyr another one of those angry glances. and before she could even think better of it, the young princess bit back with; "because if i told you, you would have never let me go. by gods, for a bodyguard of the future queen, your head seems to be filled with nothing but turnips sometimes. and for the last time, tyr, i am fine. do i look in mortal peril to you?"

of course, irony seemed to simply love to bite feyette in the backside, because at this moment, there was a rustle around her that stilled all of feyette's complaints, all of her anger, and also her breath. the slight gasp caught in her throat, and she held her breath for just that second, her face becoming about as pale as the moonlight itself. she watched as the manticore emerged, hungry and dangerous, from the brush, it's stomach obviously yearning for some elf meat.

her body froze for a second, and she was glad that tyr stepped in front of her, thus letting her regain her senses. she glanced a look up at her bodyguard, clear, crystalline blue eyes clouded with fear, before looking back at the manticore. she only nodded to his comment on staying put, saying nothing, and instead, reaching into her cloak gingerly, simply setting her hand there for whatever reason.

and then the fight began. she watched as the manticore attacked, but tyr seemed to be too fast for it, blocking and forking it in the shoulder. for a half a second, feyette thought the manticore would retreat. this showed to be only her wistful thinking, because it aimed up it's tail, ready to shoot. in this moment, feyette probably experienced some kind of hero syndrome, even if tyr had specifically told her not to move a muscle! well, then again, when was the princess ever really known to follow orders anyways? if she really thought about it, she should have known that tyr's shield probably would have blocked all of the twelve or so poison darts, if he had placed it correctly. but there seemed to be no time for thinking.

the young princess stood up, and without much of a second thought, whipped out a slightly harmless folded fan from inside her cloak; it wasn't too big folded up, but when she opened it, the growth on the fan itself and it's size seemed to be much bigger than the folded version of it would give way to. in the half a second before it shot out those poison arrows, feyette slightly panicked, a rather irrational thought of tyr getting stuck by one of those crossing her mind, moving her into action. she flicked the fan, and fifteen or so vines suddenly lashed out, reaching out like long fingers, grasping around each of the small poison darts, and deteriorating soon after from the poison. but at least the attack had been blocked.

and it seemed, in the heat of the battle, feyette was once again not thinking right, because she actually began to talk to the animal. "w-what do you think you're doing, stalking up on him like that? i understand the importance of a good meal, but find your prey elsewhere! we're both too valuable to be eaten by the likes of you! shoo, go back where you came from!" what was feyette really expecting in talking to the animal anyways, though? it wasn't like he could understand her, let alone follow her directions? ... right?

[/font][/justify]

[/td][/tr][/table]

[TÝR EPSILON]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=e9e9e9] --------------------------------------- SPOTLIGHTS, BRIGHT LIGHTS AND NEON RAYS OF ENERGY POUR FROM BACKDROPS AND BEYOND MUSIC HITS YOU SO HARD YOU CAN'T BLINK OR SEE ON A SLAVE TO THE RHYTHM BUT STILL WE REACH FREEDOM ❚AS THE VINES GRASPED THE PIERCING DARTS IN MIDAIR, they instantly shriveled in death at the effect of the poison. However, the needle-like stingers dropped upon the grass harmlessly, though its poison began to rot the growth in a small radius from where it had fallen. The moment the manticore had raised its tail, Tyr had rushed in front of Feyette, raising up Fielacius to block the barbs - however, a light breeze touching his back, and in an instant had countered about a dozen of the poison darts with her war fan's vine-like abilities. Tyr frowned a little at this; he admits that the Princess isn't simply a defenseless young girl, but he always berated himself for having her to involve in such ruthless things in life - and battle, was one of them. "Lady Feyette, you don't need to -" He was cut off when without warning, the innermost set of jaws of the manticore stretched outwards grotesquely, causing him to step back from the attack, lest he should be eviscerated ❚IT WAS THEN FEYETTE BEGAN TO TALK, or well, what it seemed to appear to be talking, to the manticore. Tyr never paid much heed to this uncanny habit of hers; most often, he had some sort of suspicion that the princess was more attuned to nature than any of the dwarves or lillipats were. And that affinity included some sort of communication with beasts and animals. He wouldn't be surprised if she could see spirits one day, though bless her heart she wouldn't. While it didn't seem like she could directly talk to the beasts, her presence was another factor in an aspect Tyr couldn't quite place his finger upon. Regardless, the manticore gave a short growl in response, as if retaliating her outburst. Tyr chuckled nervously. "It seems like he must have his meal tonight, Princess..." He answered in place of the beast in a light tone, though he was more bemused than worried, if anything. ❚THE MANTICORE ROARED AGAIN, backing his legs and his rear as he began to charge forwards again. It was hungry, so hungry to the point where it was insane, and every second spent was too precious to be lost. Tyr backed up as well, allowing himself to fall into a bout of concentration as he pushed particles of light to form into existence. The moonlight was shining. It was more than enough. Glowing flakes of light gathered along the edge of his lance, and Judex itself began to shimmer slowly. However, as Tyr had anticipated for it to rampage across the clearing once more, it had leapt into the air, hundreds of fangs baring in the glint of moonlight, claws outstretched, jaws agape, eyes livid. Tyr forced the last few bits of photon into Judex, and launched it forwards once more, the tip piercing the beast's abdomen. The charged strike had been overly-effective, for the impact not only ruptured the soft, vulnerable sac of its stomach, but it had sent the manticore sprawling into the swamp, causing a cascade of water upheave itself into the air. Judex instantly cooled down, losing its luminous lustre, and Tyr took a step forwards towards the swamp, anticipating for the beast's return. ❚ONLY THE SOUND OF WATER LAPPING THE SHORE REMAINED. Tyr sighed heavily, watching the last of the few air burst into the surface of the swamp as the water drowned the beast. "Heavens, forgive me for slaying one of your children." He muttered beneath his breath, hoisting Judex back into its leather sheath and slung it over his shoulders again. The swamp's hidden orchestra slowly picked themselves back up into a steady largo of song, and the frogs and crickets returned. The aftermath of an ominous battle required a peaceful serenade to soothe the aching spirits. He strode over to Feyette, outstretching a hand to her contemplatively. "It's late. Come, let's go back to the castle." He stated firmly, yet his tone was softer now from his previous harsh lecture before the manticore came lurking after them. Now that all of this was over... it was finally time to go home. ❚TYR DIDN'T QUITE WAIT FOR AN ANSWER and instead, he blinked once, still staring at the lump on her head as if hoping his eyesight would diminish the injury. "I may not be your mother or father," He admitted, "but your wellbeing is of my utmost concern." He faithfully replied, and slung Fielacius over his back. Instinctively thumbing a drop of water away from the bridge of his nose, Tyr felt that returning back to his quarters where he can dry off his wet uniform by the fireplace seemed like a mighty fine idea. "And, I suppose we need to get you dry soon, or else you'll catch a cold. That would worry Queen Elfaria." He lightly warned, although he was faintly smiling now. ❚"ARE YOU READY TO LEAVE?" He questioned crisply, and was about to inquire if her head was still feeling alright when something shot out of the swamp in a blur of a second, flying towards Feyette. Instinctively the blonde unicorn knight dashed and slid along the wet grass at the sudden movement, checking the blur of dark pink with his right shoulder, his left arm grasping her shoulder protectively. He winced when he felt a few dozen needle-like teeth sink in-between the cracks of his pauldron plates, but nevertheless looked back, faintly spotting the outstretched innermost jaw of the manticore he had thought he had killed jutting out from the water. In a few mere seconds, the beast heaved itself up from the depths, though clumsily, slipping on the soft mud upon the water bed below. TAGGED FEYETTE, OPEN • WORDS 947 LYRICS ORCHESTRAS, SPOTLIGHTS, TURNTABLES BY EPIK HIGH MUSIC TONIGHT BY FLOW NOTES HERO SYNDROME RUNS IN EVERYONE, TRUST ME *SLAPPED*

[THE QUEENLING FEYETTE]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=CCCCCC] everything you say will show me the way,

[/size] open[/font][/center][/size]

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

this thread stars the magnificent feyette and is stationed in swamps of the forest. the weather of this particular night happens to be muggy & clear but that may or may not be relevant, because this thread is outside. the word count for this post is 850-something and the muse music is provided by maria holic ending. over all, i feel ;__; sorry this post is terrible about this post. all your creditz belong to halö, gurren lagaan person, the background idea to riot & the guy whom i ripped this icon off. the chat color for this character is 669999. extra comments include: LOL it's too bad that bought of courage slips away so easily 8(

[/justify][/center][/font]

feyette had not expected the manticore to actually stop it's actions. sure, for a second, when she had first began her little ramble, she had a sliver of hope that maybe a nice, juicy rabbit would catch it's eye, and the manticore, deciding it was too much trouble to battle the elves, would simply retire to hunt for simplier food. when this didn't happen of course, feyette was left a little down-hearted, and with ten times less the adrenaline before.

it seemed that her bravery had put on a good pair of running shoes, and was probably halfway to volkenon by now. just a mere second after her speech was delivered, she could already feel her knees beginning to rattle gently with the force of staring a ferocious beast head on. of course, none of this showed on the princess's face; she kept the same, steadfast expression all the way through, until tyr's voice seemed to wake her up from whichever kind of liquid-time illusion she had been living.

a nervous, brokened up laugh left the young queen's lips in response. "well then. i suppose bloodshed is.. is rather mandatory then. better his blood than ours." and then with a shaky step, she took her rightful place behind tyr, once again reverting back into her shell. when she would look back at this moment, feyette knew deep inside that she would have to deliver at least twenties pinches to her arms as punishment for being such a coward; but at the moment, the only thing that seemed to be important was getting behind some kind of safety, and although feyette would hate to admit it, the only thing safe right now seemed to be tyr.

just when she thought things could not have gotten any worse, the beast gave a ear-shattering rout, and flung itself through the air, eyes wild and teeth ready to sink into the soft flesh of the two prey before him. and feyette, who was a very instinctive creature in the beginning, simply closed her eyes, putting both hands over her eyes, almost as if ready to meet her fate.

it seemed her fate never came though. one second ticked by, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds. the young princess moved two fingers apart, opening one eye to peek at her surroundings. neither was she dead, nor was she dying. instead, she had opened her eyes just in time to watch the manitcore be hurled into the depths of the swamp, at which the creature floundered for a second before seeming to resign to it's destiny and condition.

she stood very still for a simple second, holding her fan gently to her with one hand on top of the other. the queenling wore a blank face, but if one were to look close enough, they would see her hands trembling desperately. she regained composure quickly, though, maybe a bit quicker than a regular person would have, and crossed herself, seeming to give a wordless "sorry" to the heavens, just as tyr did. feyette proceeded to stash her folded fan back into the pocket in her cloak, and then turned back to her bodyguard, putting on a gentle, if not extremely wary, smile. "well then.. n-now that that is done.."

she didn't protest when he told her it was time to go home. in fact, the princess wholeheartedly agreed. she slipped her still slightly-jittered hand into his without a word, seeming to give up on this little escapade for the night. she listened to him patiently, seeming to not mind being lectured in this case, and for a second, a fresh wave of guilt came back to her.

the princess downcasted her eyes, pulling a lock of stray, wet hair behind her ear, and assumed the awkward pose she usually did when she was about to apologize for something stupid that she had done. her lips jutted out slightly into a mix between a smile and a pout, with the corner of her mouth twitching just barely, seeming to try and find the right words to, not for the first nor the last time, apologize for her rather.. unorthodox behavior.

and when she had finally lifted her chin and opened her mouth, crystalline eyes spilling with sorry, the flustered expression of hers turned into one of pure horror. the monster shot itself from the swamp, and she had barely enough time to even close her eyes in fright before she felt herself being pushed against something steadfast and metal.

when she opened her eyes, a second later, she found tyr there, once again having saved her life, only this time paying for it by wounding himself in turn. the first thing she noticed was the disrupted plates of armor, at which point the young princess calculated what had just happened. a word that should is not at all very princess-like (and thus shall not be repeated) escaped from her lips, no doubt taught to her by the infamous fenrir. "t-tyr. are you alright?" was what she said, a slight panic settling into her chest.

[/font][/justify]

[/td][/tr][/table]