Alekgray​:

Tati Gabrielle as Prudence Blackwood

Autumnal

TATI GABRIELLE ph. Tatijana Shoan for AS IF Digital Cover (April 2023)

It's not the shade we should be casting It's the light, it's the obstacle that casts it It's the heat that drives the light It's the fire it ignites It's not the wakin', it's the risin' It's not the song, it is the singin' It's the heaven of the human spirit ringin' It is the bringin' of the line It is the bearin' of the rhyme It's not the wakin', it's the risin'

Tati Gabrielle

Elodie Yung for Mixed Asian Media

This is very exciting news

who? @yaviefey​

where? the vatican

when? everything is on fire, the bethroded has died

notes: where in the world is waldo farenduil

It is with desperate surprise that she pulls Yavie back from another feral vampire an into another room. A brief gesture has the door closing with a barrier, but her mind is being pulled away in countless directions as she seeks the other members of her court, the members of her people. She had only known of the Chancellors, the Princes, the Marshals and the Senators invitations, but there is always the fear that more of their kind were in danger.

“Are you alright? Have you an eye on Faren? Mery? Anyone?” She asks, voice desperate as she eyes the door she is sure will not hold for long. Reinforcing it is useless, as they must leave before it is too late.

"The slow decay never stops, but with it comes the birth of new life," she whispers, more to herself than to her fellow Chancellor, a fond smile of her own as she keeps her gaze on the golden splendor before her. One must die and die and die, before they can live, just as she had been told on her confirmation ritual. She had learned that lesson intimately as nature consumed her and reshaped her over and over again, and learned it once more when buried along the roots, but it was easy to forget, when face with the enormity of their losses, of their grief. So many had died, sacrificed themselves for a better future for the courts, and that future has yet to arrive, for they are the ones that will be building it up from nothing. There is a reason that for as much as she does not understand Zahrya, she respects him. He is doing his part, building the future they deserve, and she can only thank him for that. "It will be hard work, reaching that future, but I look forward for that toil," she admits, even as a bemused smile spreads and she sends him an arched look. "I am beyond delighted to receive your invitation, I will not miss such a high honor."

For just a moment Laer thought about his father, the storyteller of only some renown. He thought about his sister who hadn't lived long enough to see what would become of this world. He thought about Liandrin, the mother who was chancellor before him who'd been chased into the Otherworld alongside Titania. "I was a child then." His gaze lingered on the tree, thinking still on the warder that he'd held dying in his arms, and the immense grief that had sent him wandering in search of himself. Laer had found a great deal in the many, many years he had spent in the Otherworld. A thousand for the mortal realm, many more elsewhere. He'd wrongfully assumed that there was no more lessons for him to learn, yet here he was, seeing old things made new once more. "Bittersweet isn't how I'd describe it, that's the interesting thing about time: when it's gone we lose it forever. Not just years, but moments. Someday in the distant future there will be no elves left who remember the garden of Eden, immortal as we are, nothing is eternal. I hope when that day comes this Laurelin still stands. That an age will come when our people know more of this blessed life than they do of hardship." Laer touched Robin's shoulder briefly, sentiment done, "This year you'll be welcome to partake in Summer's orgy."

Why so weary? Why so scared to be seen? That’s what I want in friends. To be inspired to wonder.  Who is she?