Trilla has never been invited to such a thing, never having lived in one place long enough to gather an excess of friends, or even classmates, as her mother attended to all of Trilla's education. Still, her curiosity isn't quite enough to get her here all on her own. After a number of messages from friends who didn't seem inclined to take no for an answer, Trilla had been on the verge of relenting -- but wasn't given the chance, as she was rather forcibly hauled down here by Eden Woods with the excuse that Eden needed to test her strength.
Taking note of the many comfortable resting spots and the array of snacks, Trilla eventually finds herself sitting with a bottle of nail polish in one hand, looking longingly at the s'mores being constructed a small distance away.
"Perhaps I ought to have eaten one of those before starting this. I don't think marshmallow is very attractive when stuck in one's manicure."
Marche de Soleil
Trilla has come to the market with a mission, though it's a secret one. There are a number of people in her life who have proven themselves worthy of her respect. Affection, even, though she's loath to display it in public. For those people, she's seeking small tokens of said affection to be left upon their doorsteps without further comment.
It's difficult, however, when she has neither given nor received an excess of gifts before. She and her mother exchanged holiday gifts, and she remembers a few particularly touching birthday presents -- but only one of her gifts is going to a family member, and that family member may be the most difficult of the lot to choose anything for.
Whomever she's shopping for, she's deep in contemplation of a table full of small trinkets when a familiar -- or unfamiliar -- person comes up behind her and causes her to take a step back as though caught at something.
"I'm done here, go ahead."
New Moon
She knows she's not meant to be out here, but Trilla can't help herself; she stands at the edge of the castle grounds, just before they turn into forest. A closer-than-usual howl makes her pause in apprehension; werewolf bites sound particularly nasty. Still, she's going stir-crazy having to stick so close to the castle all the time now. She's better than this; in another season she'll have to be up to the task of patrolling like any other Black Court member.
It is caution rather than fear that stops her from going further, as she's well aware that she can't patrol anything if she's dead. Still, it rankles, and she can be found cursing mildly under her breath as she stands a moment longer on the precipice of danger.
Perhaps all she needs is a voice of reason -- or of rebellion.
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Trilla Suduri | Black | Novice
Trilla has never been invited to such a thing, never having lived in one place long enough to gather an excess of friends, or even classmates, as her mother attended to all of Trilla's education. Still, her curiosity isn't quite enough to get her here all on her own. After a number of messages from friends who didn't seem inclined to take no for an answer, Trilla had been on the verge of relenting -- but wasn't given the chance, as she was rather forcibly hauled down here by Eden Woods with the excuse that Eden needed to test her strength.
Taking note of the many comfortable resting spots and the array of snacks, Trilla eventually finds herself sitting with a bottle of nail polish in one hand, looking longingly at the s'mores being constructed a small distance away.
"Perhaps I ought to have eaten one of those before starting this. I don't think marshmallow is very attractive when stuck in one's manicure."
Marche de Soleil
Trilla has come to the market with a mission, though it's a secret one. There are a number of people in her life who have proven themselves worthy of her respect. Affection, even, though she's loath to display it in public. For those people, she's seeking small tokens of said affection to be left upon their doorsteps without further comment.
It's difficult, however, when she has neither given nor received an excess of gifts before. She and her mother exchanged holiday gifts, and she remembers a few particularly touching birthday presents -- but only one of her gifts is going to a family member, and that family member may be the most difficult of the lot to choose anything for.
Whomever she's shopping for, she's deep in contemplation of a table full of small trinkets when a familiar -- or unfamiliar -- person comes up behind her and causes her to take a step back as though caught at something.
"I'm done here, go ahead."
New Moon
She knows she's not meant to be out here, but Trilla can't help herself; she stands at the edge of the castle grounds, just before they turn into forest. A closer-than-usual howl makes her pause in apprehension; werewolf bites sound particularly nasty. Still, she's going stir-crazy having to stick so close to the castle all the time now. She's better than this; in another season she'll have to be up to the task of patrolling like any other Black Court member.
It is caution rather than fear that stops her from going further, as she's well aware that she can't patrol anything if she's dead. Still, it rankles, and she can be found cursing mildly under her breath as she stands a moment longer on the precipice of danger.
Perhaps all she needs is a voice of reason -- or of rebellion.
[ Wildcard: want something else? Hit me with it or ping me at