This is my new character, Mirembe. She’s out and about in Lion’s Arch right now. Follow her on her tumblr because that is my active account and I want to role play with all of you!
[[ This is for Luxelen for her birthday! It’s an Ayofemi ghost hugging her. Practiced pose, lighting, and metal in this. Ridiculously hard. ]]
The spirit could hold on for only a few minutes at a time. With the world changing, and pain around every corner, she could only wish her friends well. She always regretted her death. Always.
It was the 75th of Colossus. When people were happily being merry, with candles lighting up in every temple, Ayofemi remembered that it was on this day in the previous year that her own candle had been blown out. The light was taken, with only a trace of smoke to show that the candle had once carried a flame. How she regretted this day.
It was by a strange miracle, or a curse (she sometimes thought it was a curse), that she had been given a chance to remain by her friends’ sides. She watched them all grow around her. Still, the day brought her down. When she saw Luxelen, busy as ever with meeting after meeting, it was a mixture of both a hollow pain in her chest (hollow probably because her heart was no longer there, beating), and elation for the liveliness of her friend, that the ghost had rushed to the brunette.
Her arms wrapped around her tightly, and she pressed her cheek to Luxelen’s as she held her, concentrating so that she could be tangible for a few precious moments as she embraced her friend and sister. As she held on, the spirit began to count her blessings. Her friends were still there, still alive, still around her, still loved her. She held a blessing in her arms, and it brought a bright smile to her lips. And for the first time since her death, she whispered a thank you to the gods.
Sure enough, the movement from the corner of her eye would scare her slightly, Though she only seemed to move one it was done being wrote down… Just to wipe it off her window.
“Life, Where I’m going, What I want to do. Generally the occasional visitor.” She offered a small shrug, “Sometimes I just don’t think. Just enjoy what is there.”
The spirit was dismayed from the fear that she saw. She reached out and wrote again. “What do you want to do? What is your dream? Do you have any?” The spirit then pressed her hand to the window to leave a hand print.
“Be kind to the needy and the downtrodden. Do whatever is within your means to do. Help the widows and orphans, feed the hungry, clothe the cold. Be the agent of the Six that gives hope to the hopeless.”
“Is this all that you do,” the spirit asked. She was not sure if the man could see. She was not sure if the man could hear her. Hearing him speak, still made her utter the question unbidden. “Are you kind to the needy, to the widows, orphans, hungry, and the cold? Do you give hope to the hopeless?”
“Do you give hope to the forsaken be they human, or any other creature?”
(( This is a ghostly Ayo. Working on improving coloring. And cloth texture- god that was difficult. ))
A lonely ghost dances all around during Wintersday, picking up candle lights from the altars to keep light around her while her heart and soul had a chilling grip of darkness holding tight.
All around, there was laughter within the season of cheer. And all she wished from the gods was that she could bring warmth and be with her friends again. It had been near Wintersday that the ghost remembered she had taken her life, that she gave up hope, and now she only wished to give hope to others so that they would never do what she had done. For as low as life could become, it just was not worth losing it.
And so the ghost danced continuously, trying to keep the tears at bay.
~~ The letter the woman received was slightly worn, with a heavy line going through much of the first paragraph, and a little into the second. The third paragraph had been recently added, with a heavier press drawn into the parchment, in the writer’s anger. ~~
I know it has been a while, since we have seen each other. I hope you have been well, these past weeks, as I have found little to do, nowadays. But, I am not here to reminisce. I am here to state my feelings, plain and simple. I adored you, and I cared about you greatly. While I feel that there is still a chance between us, I think it is time for us to let it go; we both have plenty ahead of us, to look forward to, but I can at least say that I adored you.
And yet, I hate you. I hate that you have come into my life, just to offer yourself over to me for nothing else but a bed-partner. I hate that I fell for you so quickly, that I could not get over it during my relationship at the time, and that the seeds you had sewn grew with haste to leave my lover and go after you. And worst of all, you tell me that you do not know me. You tell me that we cannot work this out, unless we start all over. I did not want to start all over; I wanted us to start right were we were, before I even entered into that romance. I would have readily surrendered myself over, had you not acted like a complete stranger to me. Then, you leave, for what seems like years, and my heart is now hardened. I wish you success, in your future endeavors.
Now look at you; a lonely, pathetic whore, led astray by “goodwill” and the need for a companion. Do you really think you are doing the right thing, selling yourself just to pay rent to some sleazy rich shit, when you could have simply allowed yourself into other places, that would have readily accepted you for who you are? Do you even realize that I would have given you a humble place to live, if you even asked? No. I’m through trying to be your friend. You don’t know me, and you never did. I was nothing more than someone for you to bump into, for a short period of time. If you ever come to your senses and take responsibility for your self-loathing and commoner-libertine view, then leave your landlord and make something for yourself. In this world, you don’t need to sleep with someone to obtain a status. You need to work hard, and stop caring about who suffers.
The following letter was sent the next day on crisp, Larkspur letterhead. The return address was for the apartment of a Will Larkspur in Rurikton.
Lord Mr. Etlantes,
I am sorry that you are suffering from such negative emotions at this time. I do hope that you are freed from that burden in the near future and able to better enjoy your life. I have no doubt that you will continue to experience publishing success once the tabloid fever has died down, and perhaps in the future you will find the woman who will fulfill your desires.
Thank you for your advice, but at this time I am secure in the choices I have made.
Regards,
~Mikaela
PS - Please forgive the stationery. I checked but Will didn’t have any plain paper at his apartment for me to use.
Satsified with its contents, Mikaela sealed the letter and sent it off with a small air elemental to be delivered to the man’s home address.
The letter would arrive in the morning, delivered by the air elemental, vanishing into the wind as soon as Chris picked up the letter. After reading through it, with the amount of negative carefree-ness, as well as urging on his jealousy, he was just about ready to tear it to shred until he noticed the address.
Rurikton. It was as if she was asking for him to come and prove he could set things straight. But, still, at this early hour, now was not the time. He had to equip himself, read up on how much he would expect, going in there to debate his point. He was entering a Larkspur’s domain, after all. It was bound to be full of blindly-loyal individuals, too poor-sighted to see the bindings around their hands and neck.
Especially Mikaela. All of this bullshit she wrote to him, acting as if she was now married to the man, just to spite him. She was going to see the error of her ways, and it certainly is not going to be through words alone. The rest of the morning, he had returned inside his home, flipping on the radio he had to prepare himself.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I always did say you fell in love much too fast. And I always did say that you needed a new hobby.” Ayofemi’s ghost said with amusement laced in her voice as she appeared to be laying on a couch when Chris returned home. She raised her hand, inspecting her nails before she buffed them on her shirt. “Ch. So sad. Long before I died I’d said as much. And yet, here I am, about as tangible as air, and still you make the same mistakes?”
“Before you ask, I read your letter.” Ayofemi floated towards the man, narrowing her eyes at him. “If a woman chooses not to be with you, then she is a whore,” the ethereal being asked. “Tell me though, what was so wrong about asking to start over, hm? You entered a relationship, did you truly think that when you returned, it would pick up where you left it? Because you’re allowed to start a new relationship, and she is not, hm?”
“I thought you were smarter than this. Being in the Priory and all. I told you to try other things.”
“You’re angry. I can see it in how you prowl about like a panther. Why not just let it go? Move on. This is… Chris you need to try to just learn to live with yourself first, and then look for women!”
The time had come. Dressed to the nines in unwieldy armor and equipment, bags upon bags slung over his broad shoulders, the ‘Commander’ prepared to depart in order to lead the march toward the Harathi Hinterlands. As he made his way toward the door of his home - perhaps the last time he would be here for quite some time - he took pause, craning his head down to the lounge table that was tucked into the end of the room, near the couches. Sitting on its edge, next to two empty goblets and a tipped-over bottle of Cabernet, was a little teddy bear.
The bear wore an infantile sadness, a disappointment that reeked of uncomfortable genuineness as its coal black eyes rested on the Commander. Lucas looked down to it sympathetically, an apologetically humorous smile playing at his lips as he reached down to tenderly pick the stuffed animal up, resting it in his palm.
“God look,” He murmured, the absurdist words sounding silly as they reached his ears. He shook his head with a quiet laugh, tenderly tucking the bear into his satchel - as if he were putting a child to bed. “What kind of name is ‘Lusseloof’, anyway?”
Finally, the Commander continued out of the doorway, pulling it shut behind him with an unceremonious slam, rocking the house’s foundation. He fumbled with some keys to make sure the door was tightly locked, and then he was gone, wandering down the uneven cobblestone road.
So the march begins.
“I think it’s a cute name,” Ayofemi remarked, appearing next to the man. “And a sad name. A cute and sad name for a cute and sad bear.” She settled on the horse behind Lucas.
“So you decided to go to war against the centaur after all. Far be it that I let death allow me to not help you now. ”
Ayofemi came across that picture while idling around in Luxelen’s office. She was going to pass it, going through looking around things to pass her time, but something made her stop. The spirit stopped and sat down on the chair, gazing at the old picture still held in its silver frame.
Her fingers tried to graze against the glass’s surface. Despite the mood of the picture, it was enough to bring the apparition to tears. They had all been so happy. All of them were close and together. Even Juliet had been nice that day and after some whining and moaning, had decided to join in the picture.
But time had changed things. It had changed them. Luna had died a few times, lost her love a few times, lost her mind a few times. All of those ups and downs, and how, every bit of her life had been extremes. Now all that was left was a bitter and alienated, undead woman that resided in the lower city; the one that couldn’t even speak to her sister or family at all anymore without someone getting hurt.
And she pushed Juliet, who more or less, had remained the same.
Ayofemi saw herself next. She remember being happy in that picture, on that day. She had recently joined the PACT then, and had started feeling as though she was doing good in the world by protecting it. Ayofemi remembered that she had also started to become less afraid, and stronger. But she couldn’t begin to describe that downward spiral her life had gone into afterwards, until she’d killed herself.
Aubrey had all, but disappeared. She’d been bright-eyed and hot headed, that protege that Luxelen kept under her wing. The same protege that Luxelen had pushed out of Larkspur tower. The ghost remembered how afraid she’d become for Aubrey when she had seen her around the Ministers and politicians.
Then came Lyssla. Ayofemi could still remember the woman’s dying words, and her last breaths. She remembered trying to hold Lyssla as her body had started falling apart. All of those wounds. She remembered not being able to save her after the Pact Air fleet had been struck, and they had all fallen. Even in her last moments, Lyssla had sought to bring comfort to others rather than herself.
And then, there was Luxelen. All those fluttering eyelashes with the quips and flirtations couldn’t save that ambitious woman from getting hurt. Ayofemi sighed. She could remember those days where Lux had lost control of her magic. How she had to trail after her friend to try to keep her safe, or worse, hurting anyone.
Guilty Pleasures: Currently, she likes to sneak into the homes of loved ones to just watch them. Or just people watching in taverns.
Phobias: Losing ability to touch (however brief she can, it normally lasts for seconds, and doesn’t even fully translate as a touch). Watching someone she loves, die.
What They Would Be Famous For: When she was alive, she was fairly well known for her dye making and everything that came with that. Her boisterous personality with the many colors she could get on herself without it looking horrific.
What Have They / Would They Gotten Arrested For: She’s been arrested for assaulting a Seraph. She’s also been caught by the Wolfborn, when they noticed a huge herd of pink sheep running around in Hoelbrak.
She could have been caught for public indecency and fraud.
OC You Ship Them With: None. Ghosts don’t go around loving.
OC Most Likely To Murder Them: She’s already dead so…
Favorite Book Genre: Sexy adventure romance novels. (She definitely stole the Larkspurs books to read them).
Least Favorite Book Cliche: Books regarding tactics.
Talents and/or Powers: While in life, Ayofemi was a talented mesmer, currently, she holds no powers. She can sometimes concentrate and touch things or people though for very short time. She can phase through walls and disappear, and do other things an average ghost can do.
Why Someone Might Love Them: It could be her caring nature where she tries to put others before herself. She likes to listen to the problems, and help in any way possible. She likes to cheer people up even if she’s harboring pain inside. And possibly just her affection as well.
Why Someone Might Hate Them: Currently, being a ghost, there’s really not much to hate. She’s not going to go bothering people. She’s just of there. In life it might have been her stubbornness and just moments where she was so convinced that she couldn’t save herself from situations. Her pessimism was a big reason as well which ultimately led to her downfall.
How They Change: Ayofemi was meant to be a comic relief character with mostly me exploring different art forms that are out there. It’s hard to explain, but she was meant to be just artistic expression, and not much else. There were no complexities, just that I had an outlet to write creatively, and that she could be the character I take to the tavern and just be silly with.
As time passed, however, her personality started shaping and pieces of her past came together.
And then she started to break. The character was doomed very long ago. Her emotions began spiraling downwards, and the biggest internal conflict was how do you survive when your very being is giving up. It was this constant struggle of coping with problems, and not drowning in them. She did fail, hence her death, but before that she was able to remain long enough to create memories, and help others, which was all she had wanted.
Now that she’s a ghost, her primary purpose is to just watch over those she loves. There’s not much else she can do, so she tries to cope by falling back to her initial love of just helping and being there. She is struggling to just become content with not being able to move on.
Why You Love Them: For me, Ayofemi’s been the most unique character I have played. I got the chance to try to balance an external happy personality with internal pain, and negative emotion. I got to be able to use a million and one colors to express her, and I even was able to create her own world within her mind with Mesmer magic.
With the blanket on, Luxelen laid down in bed, and Ayofemi watched the woman. “I don’t know why you insist on that blanket,” she said. It had pattern consisting of parrots, all of which had been stitched in carefully. There were feathers lining the ends. Of course it must have been something she’d made her, but for the lost life of her, she couldn’t remember any more, and the ghost wondered if that was a bad thing.
“Alright, so wanted to hear a story right? I’ll tell you a story. Just try to go to sleep.” The spirit paused for a moment, smirking. “Never thought I’d be a spirit babysitting a cranky Larkspur, but the gods do throw many ordeals,” she joked lightly.
“There once was a woman who asked me for tea, and she was filled with curiosity. And I went to meet her that day since she sent the letter to chat for a few, to laugh, and share. You know it was strange, getting that letter. Never thought I’d make so many friends just because I knew how to draw with henna, but here we are.”
“Gods this woman poured more honey in the tea that it surely must have been half full of it. It must have been the reason why she was so sweet. Of course, that’s before I really knew her. Gods did I not think she was sweet at all anymore.” She grinned at her friend, chuckling. Her smile faltered for a moment. “For the life of me, I can’t remember how I became a Rose though.” She tried to remember, but drew blanks.
“Maybe a different story would do.” But when Ayofemi looked, Luxelen had finally fallen asleep. And so the ghost then checked up on the children within the Green Palace, and then checked on all the guards present. She then wandered the halls for a few moments. Eventually, she went back to Luxelen’s bedroom, and checked that she was still sleeping before resting on the chair near by. “Gods, let the woman fix things with Will,” she mumbled.
![inmyhaart:
“[[ This is for Luxelen for her birthday! It’s an Ayofemi ghost hugging her. Practiced pose, lighting, and metal in this. Ridiculously hard. ]]
”
The spirit could hold on for only a few minutes at a time. With the world changing, and pain...](https://66.media.tumblr.com/8de300994fd7940f437c4021b53934f9/tumblr_oi7ous9blM1v795mfo1_500.jpg)
