(( About a month ago Isandare asked if Alaia would send him some of the tea she makes. She did so within a couple of days but the poor package had a little trouble finding it's way. It's rather battered now but has finally arrived intact, if not a little worse for wear ( Read more... )

Apologies for doing a rl update here but not all of the people who need to know are on my rl account! That said...

I owe apologies to seekerbelimai and escapedsparrow for disappearing from the tome the other night and to wow_storygirl for disappearing from im and the game! I am so, so, so, so sorry!

Our electric is shot again and when I got up to get Matt so he could take care of the mouse ( Read more... )

1. Alaia's name came from... my head. And it's not Ah-lie-uh. Ew. It's Uh-lay-ah. She doesn't use a last name. Ever ( Read more... )

((This post is coming about two weeks late due to rl. Things have advanced just a bit beyond this but it's still relevant and thus, posted!))

There was a whisper of her name on the wind that day; it sounded so very much like his voice.

She wasn't certain what she was doing anymore, or where she was going. She'd known where to start and done what she ( Read more... )

(( One of the many things I've been sitting on for the past month and a half for the week and a half I would be gone! XD Meaning that yes, there will be more during my "down" time ( Read more... )

*The handwriting is extremely shaky, the page tear stained*

Oh please, please don't let this be happening again. Please, please, please, not to him.

I should have... I should have written before. I should have put down all of the things that happened and how he had dinner made for us and... so many things I should have said, written down so I could ( Read more... )

She just sat there staring at that open book, at the tiny "I love you" etched in the page. All day long she sat there; a pale statue with waves of red spilling down it's back. She never budged, not once, not to get food or drink, not for anything. She just sat there and gazed at the pages and waited for the words to change, waited for the names to ( Read more... )

*Her normally elegant handwriting is off; shaky in places, sharp in others with clearly varying pressure. There are spots of ink on the page and several lines and squiggles where the writing has been interrupted ( Read more... )

It was in Feralas, bathed there in the green on the stony shore of a jade colored pool that he said it. "I love you."

The words were stuttered and not easily given but they were not said out of pity, nor said for the sake of being said. They were said because they were meant; she could see it on his face. And she'd felt it for longer though she'd ( Read more... )

We dreamed together, for a while. And it was so beautiful. But there's a problem with dreams you see, because eventually you wake up. And you remember that life isn't a dream. That life will never be like a dream and dreams, like pretending, will never get you anywhere. However beautiful they might be.

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