How… uneventful.
Tigernus, it’s about time you caught up.
(Source: fy-theladymorgana)
OOC;
Legend tells of a wand witch and wizard kind is unworthy to wield. It is a wand cloaked in mystery and precious few know the details of its legend and existence. Only four souls aside from it’s holder know Eleri is its current master, and one of them, the Deathstick’s previous owner, lies petrified as though stone in a french monastery. Two more to know of her possession are Tigernus, her loyal henchman, and the newly married Queen Emma. Eleri has been in contact with the latter frequently, and is in the constant company of the former. Despite these necessary connections, she prefers solitude, for people have a habit of triggering her seizures into sudden rage. One incident was the death of her own father at her hands, and her mother followed him to death sporting a broken heart. Remorse is a word Eleri has no use for, and that alone gained her the title ‘the Evil’. It was with this name that she met Salazar the Shrewd, and the pair of them had much in common all those years ago. But time has taken it’s toll on the pair of them, and Eleri has only grown madder in her manias. Now she and Tigernus are settled at a little inn with three roughly hewn broomsticks hung over the bar, a short distance from the new edifice of Salazar’s. They are determined to bring the disgraceful institution crumbling to the ground.
Eleri’s wand, the Deathstick.
Fifteen inches of elder with a thestral tail hair core.
(Source: knife-crime)
(Source: caelins, via fy-katiemcgrath)
The list of starters/replies:
- Bridget
I will get to everything tomorrow, send me plots :)
Myron & Eleri
Her fingers drifted over the notched wood of her wand, crafted of Elder and what she believed to be thestral hair. Eleri’s first wand, pine and phoenix feather, would never compare. The earned wand felt so right, like an extension of her arm by the palm. Even letting go of it was a feat. When the brunette awoke, the sun was low in the sky as a few last rays snuck into the windows of her rented room. Although the house on Tweek was a spacious manor, the ghosts inside still haunted her. Slight trembles drifted up her legs, becoming more urgent as they reached her torso. Her body lurched above the sheets as her eyes rocked back, her arms growing limp. Eleri felt as the wand slipped from her hand onto the bed, but she was powerless to touch it. The seizing fits became more and more frequent as her dreams increased.
As she came to once more, the sun was well below the sky. As to what time it was, she couldn’t tell. The candle spelled against melting still provided light in the room, enough for her to grasp the wand and slide out of the straw bed. Her stomach made a noise akin to a little growl as her arms engulfed the sleeves of her black robes, trimmed in light green lace. Noises drifted up from the inn’s lobby, as well as a waft of what she imagined was smoked meat. It wasn’t unusual that Eleri skipped meals, she never stayed in one place long enough to remember. Half of herself remembered much, where the other half cared little about anything that required her concentration.
Each step was effort on her lethargic form, the dark circles under her eyes only one inclination of her personal neglect. Not one to really ever bother with shoes, she was barefoot - likely not the best idea in the middle of a tavern. Being far too famished to protect, Eleri entered the large boisterous room and headed right for the barkeep. “Give me what you’ve got, if you would.” A coin dropped her hand onto the counter, giving the man what he needed to go racing back into the kitchens.
She turned toward the crowd as she awaited her meal, scanning the crowd with a cold stare. Maids fluttered around men, a few wizards and muggles alike. None of whom she expressly recognized. Once a flagon of ale was set beside the specific meat she’d smelled earlier, she began to satiate her hunger. Upon having her fill she sipped on the ale, feeling a little more loose by the second.
(Source: caelins, via fy-katiemcgrath)
