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Snatched from her other dreams, Avra finds herself shivering in the middle of a snowy forest. The only sounds she can hear is the howl of the wind, whipping gently through the bare branches of the trees climbing high above her. The world is white and gray without a scrap of color to be seen. Even still there is great beauty to it as the sunlight gently filters through the empty foliage, bouncing off of the untouched snow.
Avra tries to step forward but finds that the snow is too deep. Unable to stop herself, she tumbles forward into the snow. She doesn’t have gloves, making it harder to rise as she hears a chuckle in front of her. Glancing up, she sees a boy with blond hair, golden as the sun, staring down at her. The bright white blanket wrapped around his shoulders stands out against the snow even though it is the same color. It is almost as if her eyes were drawn to this instead of the stranger before her.
Bending down, the boy offers his hand, helping Avra out of the snow. He even goes as far as to help her brush some of it off. Noticing how she shivers in the cold, he reaches for the shawl wrapped around his shoulders and offers it to her instead. As soon as the fabric brushes Avra’s skin, the blank white fabric is consumed in a flurry of colors, revealing an intricate embroidery. Both of them instinctively know that it had all done by Avra’s own hand.
“This is your greatest masterpiece.” The boy murmurs as his own eyes glance over the now complete work of art. His hand reaches up to brush the blanket slightly off of her shoulder, the canvas turning white where he touched it. When his hand pulls away, the needlework returns, but instead field of rolling flowers, there is now a scene of soaring birds. His hand moves to shuffle the blanket again, allowing more of Avra’s greatest work to show itself. An single second seems to extend into eternity as both marvel at the fabric’s shifting image. Neither one of them speaks as their eyes never leave the fabric.
Nothing can last forever though and far too soon, the time came for the boy to take the shawl back. The moment it was lifted from her shoulders, the fabric became blank again, leaving the embroidery as just a mere memory. As the boy wrapped his own shoulders with the shawl and turned to walk deeper into the woods. However, before he left, he spoke to Avra , “The rest is up to you.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Snatched from her other dreams, Avra finds herself shivering in the middle of a snowy forest. The only sounds she can hear is the howl of the wind, whipping gently through the bare branches of the trees climbing high above her. The world is white and gray without a scrap of color to be seen. Even still there is great beauty to it as the sunlight gently filters through the empty foliage, bouncing off of the untouched snow.
Avra tries to step forward but finds that the snow is too deep. Unable to stop herself, she tumbles forward into the snow. She doesn’t have gloves, making it harder to rise as she hears a chuckle in front of her. Glancing up, she sees a boy with blond hair, golden as the sun, staring down at her. The bright white blanket wrapped around his shoulders stands out against the snow even though it is the same color. It is almost as if her eyes were drawn to this instead of the stranger before her.
Bending down, the boy offers his hand, helping Avra out of the snow. He even goes as far as to help her brush some of it off. Noticing how she shivers in the cold, he reaches for the shawl wrapped around his shoulders and offers it to her instead. As soon as the fabric brushes Avra’s skin, the blank white fabric is consumed in a flurry of colors, revealing an intricate embroidery. Both of them instinctively know that it had all done by Avra’s own hand.
“This is your greatest masterpiece.” The boy murmurs as his own eyes glance over the now complete work of art. His hand reaches up to brush the blanket slightly off of her shoulder, the canvas turning white where he touched it. When his hand pulls away, the needlework returns, but instead field of rolling flowers, there is now a scene of soaring birds. His hand moves to shuffle the blanket again, allowing more of Avra’s greatest work to show itself. An single second seems to extend into eternity as both marvel at the fabric’s shifting image. Neither one of them speaks as their eyes never leave the fabric.
Nothing can last forever though and far too soon, the time came for the boy to take the shawl back. The moment it was lifted from her shoulders, the fabric became blank again, leaving the embroidery as just a mere memory. As the boy wrapped his own shoulders with the shawl and turned to walk deeper into the woods. However, before he left, he spoke to Avra , “The rest is up to you.”
Snatched from her other dreams, Avra finds herself shivering in the middle of a snowy forest. The only sounds she can hear is the howl of the wind, whipping gently through the bare branches of the trees climbing high above her. The world is white and gray without a scrap of color to be seen. Even still there is great beauty to it as the sunlight gently filters through the empty foliage, bouncing off of the untouched snow.
Avra tries to step forward but finds that the snow is too deep. Unable to stop herself, she tumbles forward into the snow. She doesn’t have gloves, making it harder to rise as she hears a chuckle in front of her. Glancing up, she sees a boy with blond hair, golden as the sun, staring down at her. The bright white blanket wrapped around his shoulders stands out against the snow even though it is the same color. It is almost as if her eyes were drawn to this instead of the stranger before her.
Bending down, the boy offers his hand, helping Avra out of the snow. He even goes as far as to help her brush some of it off. Noticing how she shivers in the cold, he reaches for the shawl wrapped around his shoulders and offers it to her instead. As soon as the fabric brushes Avra’s skin, the blank white fabric is consumed in a flurry of colors, revealing an intricate embroidery. Both of them instinctively know that it had all done by Avra’s own hand.
“This is your greatest masterpiece.” The boy murmurs as his own eyes glance over the now complete work of art. His hand reaches up to brush the blanket slightly off of her shoulder, the canvas turning white where he touched it. When his hand pulls away, the needlework returns, but instead field of rolling flowers, there is now a scene of soaring birds. His hand moves to shuffle the blanket again, allowing more of Avra’s greatest work to show itself. An single second seems to extend into eternity as both marvel at the fabric’s shifting image. Neither one of them speaks as their eyes never leave the fabric.
Nothing can last forever though and far too soon, the time came for the boy to take the shawl back. The moment it was lifted from her shoulders, the fabric became blank again, leaving the embroidery as just a mere memory. As the boy wrapped his own shoulders with the shawl and turned to walk deeper into the woods. However, before he left, he spoke to Avra , “The rest is up to you.”
Avra usually slept peacefully, content in the knowledge that her life had a purpose. Unlike many, that purpose was clear, and she was fully capable of accomplishing it. Spread beauty, be beauty. And she was.
This night was different. In the vacant guest room of some tavern, Avra twitched and shivered, desperately trying to reconcile beauty with this vast, colorless land in her dream. Could beauty exist without color? Could imagination? This was a cold, desolate place, and Avra felt a pang of fear. Was she trapped here forever? Just when she thought this place would be her end, the final threads in a tapestry with a frayed bottom, a boy appeared, kind and golden. Avra had never seen such a shimmering color on a person before. Yes, she often praised hair colors or the tint of pink appearing on a cheek, but this was a different kind of color. It burned and shone against the blindingly white snow, and he smiled. He was the most flawless creature Avra had ever seen.
His shoulders were clothed in a shawl somehow even whiter than the snow that surrounded them. Instantly, Avra had her answer. Beauty could exist without color. Here was the perfect proof. The shawl seemed to glimmer and move before her very eyes, which widened in awe. And then something even more magical happened. The perfect stranger removed the whiter-than-snow shawl and draped it around her own shivering shoulders, and color reigned supreme. Avra could scarcely believe these colors could be found in her waking life; they were all vibrant and stunning and clear in a way that she had never seen a thread dyed. And the work—her work?—was beauty incarnate. Avra’s shuddering breaths caught in her throat ass she stared down at the shawl. Flowers of the gods in some shining meadow. And the boy seemed to refresh the scene wherever he touched, and the color grew, and this was godly. Birds and stars and scenes that were too perfect to be real. And yet, they were real. These scenes were of the earth, but the earth as Avra saw it. Some looked at a flower and saw only the delicate petals, the pleasing color. Avra saw the perfection of nature, the glistening dew drops, the vibrancy. And so did this boy.
This is your greatest masterpiece.
It seemed an impossible task. Of course, Avra’s work had always been beautiful. She had always striven to weave her own view of the world into every piece. But this… were there even threads of the right colors? Avra started to panic as the boy removed the shawl from her shoulders and her masterpiece faded back into shimmering nothingness. “Wait—” she started to say, but he was gone.
The rest is up to you.
In some lonely tavern bedroom, Avra of Almosis awoke with a start. The colors in her mind were already fading back to the earthly colors she had always known. Her heart was still racing, and a name pulsed through her mind with every heartbeat. @apollo, Apollo, Apollo. Avra pulled herself from the bed and picked up a needle. There was no time to waste.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Avra usually slept peacefully, content in the knowledge that her life had a purpose. Unlike many, that purpose was clear, and she was fully capable of accomplishing it. Spread beauty, be beauty. And she was.
This night was different. In the vacant guest room of some tavern, Avra twitched and shivered, desperately trying to reconcile beauty with this vast, colorless land in her dream. Could beauty exist without color? Could imagination? This was a cold, desolate place, and Avra felt a pang of fear. Was she trapped here forever? Just when she thought this place would be her end, the final threads in a tapestry with a frayed bottom, a boy appeared, kind and golden. Avra had never seen such a shimmering color on a person before. Yes, she often praised hair colors or the tint of pink appearing on a cheek, but this was a different kind of color. It burned and shone against the blindingly white snow, and he smiled. He was the most flawless creature Avra had ever seen.
His shoulders were clothed in a shawl somehow even whiter than the snow that surrounded them. Instantly, Avra had her answer. Beauty could exist without color. Here was the perfect proof. The shawl seemed to glimmer and move before her very eyes, which widened in awe. And then something even more magical happened. The perfect stranger removed the whiter-than-snow shawl and draped it around her own shivering shoulders, and color reigned supreme. Avra could scarcely believe these colors could be found in her waking life; they were all vibrant and stunning and clear in a way that she had never seen a thread dyed. And the work—her work?—was beauty incarnate. Avra’s shuddering breaths caught in her throat ass she stared down at the shawl. Flowers of the gods in some shining meadow. And the boy seemed to refresh the scene wherever he touched, and the color grew, and this was godly. Birds and stars and scenes that were too perfect to be real. And yet, they were real. These scenes were of the earth, but the earth as Avra saw it. Some looked at a flower and saw only the delicate petals, the pleasing color. Avra saw the perfection of nature, the glistening dew drops, the vibrancy. And so did this boy.
This is your greatest masterpiece.
It seemed an impossible task. Of course, Avra’s work had always been beautiful. She had always striven to weave her own view of the world into every piece. But this… were there even threads of the right colors? Avra started to panic as the boy removed the shawl from her shoulders and her masterpiece faded back into shimmering nothingness. “Wait—” she started to say, but he was gone.
The rest is up to you.
In some lonely tavern bedroom, Avra of Almosis awoke with a start. The colors in her mind were already fading back to the earthly colors she had always known. Her heart was still racing, and a name pulsed through her mind with every heartbeat. @apollo, Apollo, Apollo. Avra pulled herself from the bed and picked up a needle. There was no time to waste.
Avra usually slept peacefully, content in the knowledge that her life had a purpose. Unlike many, that purpose was clear, and she was fully capable of accomplishing it. Spread beauty, be beauty. And she was.
This night was different. In the vacant guest room of some tavern, Avra twitched and shivered, desperately trying to reconcile beauty with this vast, colorless land in her dream. Could beauty exist without color? Could imagination? This was a cold, desolate place, and Avra felt a pang of fear. Was she trapped here forever? Just when she thought this place would be her end, the final threads in a tapestry with a frayed bottom, a boy appeared, kind and golden. Avra had never seen such a shimmering color on a person before. Yes, she often praised hair colors or the tint of pink appearing on a cheek, but this was a different kind of color. It burned and shone against the blindingly white snow, and he smiled. He was the most flawless creature Avra had ever seen.
His shoulders were clothed in a shawl somehow even whiter than the snow that surrounded them. Instantly, Avra had her answer. Beauty could exist without color. Here was the perfect proof. The shawl seemed to glimmer and move before her very eyes, which widened in awe. And then something even more magical happened. The perfect stranger removed the whiter-than-snow shawl and draped it around her own shivering shoulders, and color reigned supreme. Avra could scarcely believe these colors could be found in her waking life; they were all vibrant and stunning and clear in a way that she had never seen a thread dyed. And the work—her work?—was beauty incarnate. Avra’s shuddering breaths caught in her throat ass she stared down at the shawl. Flowers of the gods in some shining meadow. And the boy seemed to refresh the scene wherever he touched, and the color grew, and this was godly. Birds and stars and scenes that were too perfect to be real. And yet, they were real. These scenes were of the earth, but the earth as Avra saw it. Some looked at a flower and saw only the delicate petals, the pleasing color. Avra saw the perfection of nature, the glistening dew drops, the vibrancy. And so did this boy.
This is your greatest masterpiece.
It seemed an impossible task. Of course, Avra’s work had always been beautiful. She had always striven to weave her own view of the world into every piece. But this… were there even threads of the right colors? Avra started to panic as the boy removed the shawl from her shoulders and her masterpiece faded back into shimmering nothingness. “Wait—” she started to say, but he was gone.
The rest is up to you.
In some lonely tavern bedroom, Avra of Almosis awoke with a start. The colors in her mind were already fading back to the earthly colors she had always known. Her heart was still racing, and a name pulsed through her mind with every heartbeat. @apollo, Apollo, Apollo. Avra pulled herself from the bed and picked up a needle. There was no time to waste.
