Wild Child - Enya

"A child of "Rarest Blood" that lived on the Moon to protect her, and yet her loneliness got the better of her as she grew up. She first appeared as a commoner.... I see it as a cautionary fairy tale of curiosity and coveting what cannot be kept, like treasures from a dream." The man laughed, "Surely it's just a tale, yes? But I am curious of if she has a noble ancestry beyond a peculiar complexion."

@itisweselton

It had been planned for when the Veil thinned. Stelle embraced Acer, bidding him goodbye.

She was off to Weselton, to finally meet others face to face. She had a suitcase of her things, and a costume for a masquerade ball that she was invited to on behalf of the Duke.

The other case had gifts for the Duke, to show her gratitude. Books of Harmonian tales, maps, gemstones...

She hoped to make a good impression as she went through the doors, to enter the waking world for the first time.

"Have you seen some odd sorts, paying off that miserly village leader?" Palmia looked to Rennoh, "Mydaas, that's the one who leads Rennoh's village. Anyway. Seems there's outsiders who pay Mydaas and then treat my territory as their game reserve!"

Rennoh was quiet, leting Palmia vent aloud. The golden deer were on alert, listening.

"But you. You said you met Stelle?" Palmia asked.

@pcrplevenom

Stelle had entrusted her friend to check on her brother, a Troll living on Harmonus.

Harmonus' main metropolis was a dizzying whirlwind of color and co-existence, fed by many worlds and universes with Trolls.

The train would take Soldan to a more rural place, and the manner of folks on the train went from enthusiastic tourists and locals on daily errands to farmers and sorts that seemed... ...Shady.

Subdued Subjuggalos, other Highbloods that seemed to be ready to hunt, exchanging money with a farmer to "Cull the Wilderwood."

(picrew here)

Your name is Palmia Nasrin, and you spent your 8 Sweeps of life in the Wilderwood.

You enjoy exploring, foraging with Rennoh, and chasing off Poachers.

The Wilderwood of Harmonus is home to all kinds of beasts and monsters.  You are quite at home with them, as you had been with the Golden Hind since you were a Pupate.  Something about a fawn unjustly killed so the village leadership threw you to the rampaging doe.  Whatever.  Doe Mother loves you, and her herd is your family.

Your Orange blood isn’t at all indicative of your nature.  You are tall, bold, and are not afraid of anyone who comes into your territory.  If it’s Rennoh, though, well, you know where the good forage is.  You trust the light of your Lantern to guide the way.

What’s a Trolltag?  Sounds gross.

"So by pedigree, not by Hemospectrum..." Stelle explained further, "All Trolls, across the multiverse, have different colored blood."

She went and pulled out a small fold out diagram. (links to a Hemospectrum explanation).

"The colors not only determine rank, but inherent abilities... However, I am not on there. My kind have been extinct for thousands of Sweeps before Her Imperious Condescension's rule. She has lived beyond any known Troll of her world, an Empress. She has been putting pressure on Harmonus to open trade and... I don't know if this will be dangerous..."

Taking a deep breath, Stelle asked, "I hope you may have insight, Your Excellency?"

Open RP

The Lone Moon was lustrous in its ocean of sky. Stelle stood at a long pool of still water, gazing into the deep blue. Gilded fish swam about, some bobbing up at the surface.

The Pierrot Troll picked up an ivory dish, laden with pellets. She tossed pellets to the water, watching as the lazy fish sprang to life.

It was lonely here. Were there Dreamers out to see her?

Once the directions were followed, Soldan would find herself in a triage room at a hospital in Harmonus, specializing in magic and psiionic needs.

A nurse would be quick to Soldan's side to assess her and take her to a cubicle that was sound proofed and darkened until she could be seen.

Soldan was violently trembling on her knees, gripping her left wrist tightly. The left hand was jet black with a dark purple-blue underone and clawed on the fingers. Her shadow magic corruption never lasted this long, and not having the best time dealing with it. It happened before, but this is looking bad.

"Then rest here, you are safe here." Stelle held the book. "I hope this is readable. I know dreams can obscure text."

It was a historical text from Alternia, called "The Impossible Blood Color". It was a tome describing extinct blood colors, and how one particular color only existed in 'fossilized crystals'.

(lone-moon-pierrot) The stars were lovely on Lone Moon, the sky a midnight rainbow of galaxies. Stelle had something for Soldan to see. "Friend, hello."

"Stelle! Good to ssee you again!" a smile, cheerful as it usually was. Soldan walked and stood beside her, an inqusitive head tilt to one side. "I do apologize for being busy, It'ss getting a bit chilly where I live. Sstocking up and whatnot, tiring work!"

@lone-moon-pierrot

Soldan would find herself at a village bordering a looming forest. Trolls of varying ages were working. It was Boiling Season, and wheelbarrows laden with thick, deep red taproots were being taken to a workhouse. Adult Trolls were working there, as the children dug up taproots.

These Trolls lived in poverty, and as others were going to work in the workhouse, one would be seen gathering a bag and wearing a bell.

"New here?" One villager asked Soldan. "Looking for someone?"

@pcrplevenom

Stelle had entrusted her friend to check on her brother, a Troll living on Harmonus.

Harmonus' main metropolis was a dizzying whirlwind of color and co-existence, fed by many worlds and universes with Trolls.

The train would take Soldan to a more rural place, and the manner of folks on the train went from enthusiastic tourists and locals on daily errands to farmers and sorts that seemed... ...Shady.

Subdued Subjuggalos, other Highbloods that seemed to be ready to hunt, exchanging money with a farmer to "Cull the Wilderwood."

Glass pumpkin 🎃

i feel like if you stabbed an angel the blood trail would look like this

"...It's the cultural nature of Alternia. The Higher Blood Castes subjugate and kill "mutant" or Lowbloods, for sport and to..." Stelle cringed, "Blood as paint. It's gruesome, largely illegal on Harmous. However Alternia has been sending Poachers for rare blood colors. If I appear, I'm immediately a target. It's why I was raised here."

Open RP

The Lone Moon was lustrous in its ocean of sky. Stelle stood at a long pool of still water, gazing into the deep blue. Gilded fish swam about, some bobbing up at the surface.

The Pierrot Troll picked up an ivory dish, laden with pellets. She tossed pellets to the water, watching as the lazy fish sprang to life.

It was lonely here. Were there Dreamers out to see her?