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 The Darling Demon, creature | chickadee
☥ FARREN CATHAL
 Posted: Apr 20 2017, 08:25 AM
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1256 • Flower fae • Tranquility • Seelie Court
Chickadee! 2 posts application plotter wanted tracker other


Once Upon a Time...
Name:
Farren ab Cathal
Age:
1256 Years
Date of Birth:
5/05/769
Gender:
Male
Species:
Flower Fae (His core flower is poppies)
Usergroup:
Creature
Center:
Tranquility

Physique

WEIGHT: Rather light
HEIGHT: 4’7 in the winter, 5’9 spring/fall, 7’4 summer (gradual growing/shrinking through the seasons)
PLAY-BY: Various Artists

A willowy figure, calm and serene. A gentle giant, with skin as smooth as silk and eyes forever peaceful. Standing amidst a field of blooming poppies, a gently swaying sea of brilliant reds and fair oranges. A blend of colors, pleasing to the gaze and offering a gentle fragrance to the nose. Welcome calm amongst the storm, for there is no harm to be within his presence, never near his babies. Rest, it is good for you…
A sleepy mirage concealed within a silhouette of a male figure. Pale hair, the color of milky moonlit curls, silkily tickle and nearly brush the base of his neck. His skin is pale, easy on the eyes and not a blemish marring his skin. A jawline, slim along with the rest of his facial features.

Eyelashes a pale white, curled and framing the light blue of his gaze. A sky filled with clouds, such would be a way to describe the irises adorning his face. A doze, such eyes offer the peace of welcome slumber, to take away the aches and pains. No more war, no more peril. Only rest…
Only light definition of strength line the boy’s limbs, lean and slender, hardly an imposing figure no matter his height. Short and small, much like a tranquil child, within the winter months, where he sheds his set of horns for the season. Then in the midst of spring, do a new set grow back, much unlike the others before, and from there his steady growth of height begins. Summer, the fae is heads and shoulders above many, but he does not look down with a scornful gaze. A friendly giant, nearly shy within his expressions, twining wildflowers together into little bracelets or necklaces.

In both of his forms, the flower fae is relaxed. His shoulders eased and his hands free of any clenched fist. A serene look spread across his face, perhaps persuading any onlooker to let go of their troubles as well. Rather unusual for an Inner Court fae to be so loose, the flower does not even seem to mind.

Poppies, the love of his life, adorn his hair within crowns. Spring up around his feet when he wills them to do so, and the very place where he escapes to for isolation, a magnificent field filled with his creations.
Outfits, now fae do not give much mind to them; most of the time. Farren is often fine with going free of clothes, if he is in his most relaxed state, but never in court. However, he can usually be found wearing light brown pants of fine cloth, for comfortability always comes first before any fancy dress...

A rare and dark vision. Smooth certainty within battle. A cloak of red and white, radiant blood staining the fine, pale cloth, some of it being the owner of the cloak’s own matter, yet most of it is others. A glaive, dangerously sharp, beautifully adorned with intricate flower patterns carved into the blade and long hilt of the weapon. A gift, from his mother and father. The eyes, the calm a troubled nature like dark clouds upon the horizon. This is the only time the peace is disturbed. The Poppy Demon is truly a monster in battle, ruthless in his defense, yet merciful to those that deserve such.

The Interview

An azure sky, white clouds floating lazily along the expansive canvas, while the sun hung high above, signaling around mid-day. The weather was nearly perfect, for a warm breeze drew through the air, brushing bare skin like a gentle sigh, a blanket of comfort within the early summer. The forests, somewhere among Europe, was peaceful, hardly an animal or other creatures alike disturbed such tranquility.

Despite this comforting nature, a girl ran. Young and afraid, tears streaked down her face and arms, smudged with dirt, pumping with all of her might. This youngling, a human girl who should not have wandered into this far into the woods, was lost. Lost because she could not find her way out, scared because her Mama and Papa were supposed to see her back at home for supper, and saddened because she had lost her shoes.
And so the child ran, messy brunette hair whipping behind her, like a long, fine cape against the brush of the breeze. Her sobs echoing about the area, until she finally broke through the treeline. What greeted her, a paradise. A meadow, a sea of poppies, in full bloom and reaching up towards the sky. Beautiful reds and oranges, gently flowed within the wind, and if she squinted just enough, it looked as if the flower buds glowed.

Movement caught her gaze, doe brown eyes straying to the center of the large patch of flowers, where a disturbance shook the plants. Slowly, a tall, willowy figure sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a soft yawn parting from his lips. From the yards she stood back from the meadow, she could still see the shift of his gaze as he zoned in on her.
Sleepy surprise widened his eyes, before a warm nature took precedence once more. Fluidly, the creature stood, shirtless with only a pair of trousers adorning his legs. Upon the top of his head, delicate deer antlers grew, laced with a decoration of poppy flowers among the ivory lining.
He made his way over, the poppies parting for him automatically, much like the Red Sea. The girl nearly made the decision to run, to scream for help, yet that all stopped once he came within the vicinity of her. A smile, a gentle look of such relaxed nature that the young girl could practically feel her anxiety melt away. Her shoulders slumped, at peace.

“Hello, little one.” If the girl could put a sound to clouds, the soft pillows of the sky, that would be his voice. Like the cotton down filled in pillows, or the fair canopy upon a dandelion. “I thought I was the only one who staked a claim to this area. The humanfolk world has such pretty meadows.”
It took a moment for the girl to find her voice, for she had fallen into such a state of repose, she nearly forgot to reply.

“I...I got lost, I don’t know how I came here.” For a moment, her anxiety had come back, gripping fear creeping back into her voice. But at the gentle nod of his head, an extension of his slender hand out to her, she had entered that state of calm once more.
“Well, now that you are here, come, sit with me.” His voice was so alluring. Not in the bad way, which one might expect from a con artist, but like the guidance of a parent or an older sibling. Reassuring, safe. Soft, hardly above a whisper whenever he spoke. “Rest for a little while, I do not enjoy the company of humanfolk, often.”

And so the small child took his hand, while he guided her through the sea of flowers. Some brushed against her ankles, tickling her with gentle kisses of their petals. A short giggle pulled from her lips, which drew a sleepily amused look from the lithe creature.
They sat upon cushions of springy moss in the center of the meadow, where he had been laying before. The sun warm upon their arms, and the breeze hardly disturbing their hair. The fair-haired man, smiling down to the child, laid his long legs out infront of him, like the roots of a tree, while his arms supported his back from behind, palms pressed against the ground.
Criss-crossing her legs, the youngling merely looked at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. Soft locks of hair, mussed from sleep, was laced with the sprouting buds of poppies, while his pointed ears were pierced with fine, silver jewelry. Despite his disheveled look from taking a nap, and for how long she did not know, the ethereal beauty was still very much there. Many would have desired him, the people in her village.

She spoke, with a quiet, nearly quivering voice.
“Who...who are you? Where am I?” The fae’s eyes flicked to look towards her, and it was a wonder to the girl how he was still awake. A glaze had settled over his gaze, like he had fallen into a micro-sleep the moment a pause between conversation took place. Yet he was pulled back down to Earth once more, as a simple smile pulled at the soft pink lips of his face.
“I am known by many names. Sometimes it is the nickname they gave me in the courts, or Poppy. Yet, my given name is Farren ab Cathal.” He flashed a bit of teeth in his soft beam, fair as the fancy porcelain the child’s mother kept up on the high cupboards. He did really remind her of a fairy, except he lacked a certain set of wings upon his back. “I am known in the court as the Darling Demon, for reasons unknown to me. I believe it may be the horns, but I have yet to ask.”
With a fond look, he traced a finger over the delicate structure sprouting from his head, a few petals from the laced flowers falling off as they were disturbed. “I am also the King-in-Waiting, second in command to the Vibrant Queen.”

The girl’s dark eyes widened, she was speaking to the King in Waiting...of the Seelie. Of course, she had grown up learning the different tales of the fae alike, but they had merely been old wive’s tales! Even so, weren’t the Unseelie the more mischievous of the two? That didn’t mean the Seelie couldn’t be any less...morally ambiguous.

Even so, Farren here seemed kind, at first meeting. Shy nearly, for whenever her eyes fully focused on him, the soft blues of his eyes flicked away, and the tips of his elongated ears turned a faint pink. Or maybe he was just nervous around humanfolk?

”You’re fae? I’ve never met one before…” Her voice trailed off, for the Darling Demon had traced a line upon an exposed patch of dirt on the ground, and from the press of the tip of his finger, did little buds of poppies begin to grow. She watched, enchanted as the flowers sprouted before her very eyes.
”Oh yes, I am.” His tone nearly mused, while he watched his little creations sprout with barely contained delight, a zone having trapped his gaze into place. “I am glad I am the first one you have met.” Simply put, for she could have met a nastier creature, dwelling within the mortal world in which they were now.

“Do you have a family? My Mama and Papa live...not too far from here, I think.” The very mention of them sank like an anchor to the pit of her stomach, but at the first nudge of the negative emotion, could she feel it ebbing once more. Almost as if waves of a sleepy nature, a certain calm she had never felt before in her life. It latched onto her, washing over her like a blanket of warmth. She accepted such comfort.

“Uh-huh,” Farren spoke, fingernails combing over the earth gently as he leaned back. Tilting his head, he blew a soft curl of white out of his face while he replied. “I was born to Eithne and Cathal, both flower fae in their own right. We lived in a small village, a community of other flower fae of different varieties.” A short pause, while he looked at her with poorly hidden intrigue. “Which you like to hear a story?” The child was quick to nod.
“When I was born, my parents used to say that the world glowed a little softer. The village was at ease, despite the brewing tensions of war between the two courts. Until my horns grew in, that is. They were like a rams, the first time.” He twirled the stem of a flower between his fingers, the bud of the plant twirling with a swirl of red and green. “A demon, because of the bone sprouting from his head. It was a debate what to do with me, they thought I was Unseelie.” A little puff of breath parted his lips, a sleepy sigh.

”The debates went on long enough for me to grow, and for my powers to really come out.” A smile framed his lips, although it wasn’t very bright. Merely thoughtful, as he studied the worn stem twined through his fingers. The girl watched, entranced by the story.
”I was out playing with the other children of the village, when an accident occurred. A boy had found an old antique sword from the war his Papa had fought in, whom didn’t return mind you, he came back as a patch of daffodils.” The girl could feel a shiver run up her spine, she knew of the tales. The Seelie and Unseelie war that never ended, a constant struggle.
”Swinging about the sword, we were all just juvenile children playing a mock battle, when he sliced my leg. The sword had had magical properties tied to it, enough to keep the blade from growing dull. And enough to cut my leg clean off, straight on through.” Poppy sliced his hand through the air, for added emphasis, as the girl gasped. She also...didn’t understand, he had two solid, working legs right now…

”The Unseelie rumors slowly began to die when my leg grew back in under a few hours. Perfectly intact, like nothing had ever happened...” He paused, his fair eyebrows scrunching with a contemplative look. The memory had been so long ago, sometimes it was hard to catch them clearly. “I became known as the little poppy with an unusually accelerated healing factor. When I grew, the power that surrounded me bloomed as well. Glamor is very important for fae, you see, the very use of it can determine your status alone, most of the time.”

The storytelling stopped, as he looked down, going quiet. Feeling the urge to press on, to hear more of the story, the child opened her mouth to speak, but found she did not have the energy to voice any words. Although this would have normally frightened her, she simply shut her mouth, waiting for the flower fae to continue.

“They brought me to the court, I had a few family members close to the level of Inner-Court status, and so I lived with them. When I grew, I climbed status easily, my powers carrying me along the way. The Inner-Courts favored me, by some luck. And now I have found myself as second in command.” The story came to a close, and the child’s eyes were heavy with a drowsiness, the state of sleepiness having settled upon her as he spoke. Noticing his mistake, the fae quickly eased off on the glamor he had subconsciously evoked. The child sat up, more alert than before.
“Sorry.” His shoulder’s hunched, and his face looked akin to a kicked puppy. The girl did not have the heart in her to grow angry at Farren, so she merely shook her head, letting it go. Quietly, the girl pondered her response.

….

”I like your hair…” The comment, hardly anything like a question she intended to ask, drifted out, and the lithe fae blinked with surprise. Such a loud emotion was clearly subdued by the sleep having gathered within his gaze, even with the short pause they shared.
“Thank you,” His voice fluttered dreamily, while he blinked almost as if in slow motion. That movement, even just watching, made the girl’s energy deplete, yet she fought hard to stay awake. She couldn’t fall asleep, not this soon! They still had the entire afternoon to stretch out ahead of them, like a lazy cat basking in the warmth of the afternoon light through a window. ”It used to be long, when I was younger.” His voice broke through again, with a soft sigh. It was such a sad sound, the child wished to comfort him. Although, that may just be his glamor at work.

”They didn’t believe demons should have long hair, so they cut it.” He fingered the wavy strands of white with disdain, the only hint of vanity shining through, along with poorly contained envy. Even the green-eyed monster had found it’s way into this soft soul. ”It does not grow back. I find myself very jealous with anyone who possess such long strands of hair.”
”When….when you speak, I get very sleepy. Why is that?” Her own gentle voice parted from her lips, and the tall fae looked down from stroking a thin finger along the petals of a flower perched upon his head. A dreamy smile graced his lips, as a small nod moved his head.
”My glamour, I have been told it's powerful and I know it. I have, for a long while. Sometimes, it sneaks into my voice and influences energy and emotions….charisma magic.” He paused, a gentle breeze blowing along, stirring the flowers upon his horns, while tiny petals of red and orange fluttered past him and to the ground. ”It is even more powerful when I speak direct commands rather than suggestions. I only want people to rest, I promise.” A small pout pulled at his lips, rather unbecoming for a king-in-waiting.

”Do you make people fall asleep often?” The youngling tilted her head, curious as to if this was apart of a trickier nature he possessed. The fae seemed to ponder this for a moment, a short tilt of his head following.
”Well...sometimes it just happens. Lesser fae have no power over my command, but I don't want to hurt them. They say I can suffocate. I don’t want to, if it’s within my power to choose.” The fae seemingly pled for her to believe him, while the child nodded her head. He had great power, and sometimes it just...escaped him. She understood. Sort of. ”Resting is really good for you. It keeps your skin healthy. My poppies like to sleep.”

”My Mama says a good night’s sleep makes the world seem like a glass half-full. Would you-...do you agree?” If she told her mama that a fae agreed with her, would that make her week? It depended entirely if she believed her daughter or not, most likely.
A soft shift of his head followed, while her pondered the statement. And then, as if mentally deciding not to even question the mortal child on what exactly she meant, he decided to nod his head. Simple enough, his poppies whispered words of encouragement to him, glad that he was indulging the child.

”Mister Darling Poppy Demon Farren ab Ca-” She began to list all of his names to address him, yet he interrupted her, with a gentle sigh.

”Farren is just fine, flower bud.” His voice as gentle as the breeze, yet his discontentment was clear.

”Farren, how old are you exactly?” His eyes widened at the question, while a thin finger came up to rub at the remnants of sleep still stuck in the corner of his eye. The Poppy blinked, once, twice. Silence.

”A good few. My poppies remind me every once and awhile.” He spoke, with a breezy tone. She interjected, quickly.
”A good few what? A corner of his lip pulled up, in a contemplative look. Sometimes to hurt to count, he wasn’t very good at it.
”A thousand and some flower buds. Well over the usual mortal lifespan- did you know if you had a good night sleep every night of the year, you could increase your chances of living a long and healthy life?” She did. in fact, know this. He was beginning to sound just like her Mama. The thought of her Mama bloomed such pictures of religious figures in her mind, Catholic as they were. God. Did he believe in God? Did the Seelie have a God? She could not remember.
”When….if you die in battle-” She could remember that the Fae could die, especially when the Unseelie and Seelie fought in the never ending war against one another, ”-do you go to Heaven?” The question came out, brimming with childhood innocence.

The fae contemplated this for a moment, or perhaps he had indeed fallen asleep because a glaze had settled over his eyes. At the poke of her finger to his wrist, he started back to reality and looked to her with a shake of her head.
”We usually reincarnate into something that is connected to us, like a plant or flower,” he pressed a finger to his chin in thought, ”Perhaps somebody has come back as a rock once. Maybe a tree. I had a cousin turn into a patch of dandelions. Emrys will be missed.”

The girl paused for a moment, considering this statement quietly, while the Poppy Demon merely watched her evenly. ”Did...do you mourn, when fae are reincarnated?” The Darling Demon seemed rather surprised at the question, while he merely looked down in contemplation.
”We did, and still do, mourn when we lose someone close to us. Yet they are always there, even if not in the form they took before.” He spoke in his soft voice, hardly reaching about the level of a whisper. Yet it carried to her, like a warm breeze on a Summer’s day, much like this one.

”You said you had childhood friends...did they not shun you for the title you had?” A short tilt of the fae’s head occurred, while a shake of his head followed. A tiny smile pulled at his lips, in remembrance of his childhood. It hadn’t been too bad, it could have been worse. Aside from his leg being severed and the debate about his fae allegiance. His poppies had been there for him, at the very least.
”No, no they didn’t shun me. I had very lovely friends, who didn’t listen to their parents….my-...” Farren paused, his eyebrows scrunching with a thoughtful look, while he raised his fist up to rest beneath his chin. His skinny shoulders hunched, briefly, as the gentle giant sunk deep into his memories. ”The one who I remember the most fondly was dear Daisy. She was a-...well is, a daisy fae, and I recall being the closest to her. I-...I haven’t seen her since I left, when I was a little over thirty. I hope she is okay.”
His gaze found the ground, where a stray poppy bloomed from the ground. Moving a hand over, he eased it from the Earth gently, so as to not harm it. Picking up the flower by the stem, he studied the colorful petals of the poppy. She had been struck blind, accidentally. It had been safest for her back at the village, not where he was going.

The silence had seemed to settle over the youngling heavily, for a bout of sleep stole her for a moment. She had many questions to ask, and the excitement of getting to meet a fae of such high status wore her out enough, as she succumbed to his power. Perhaps the King-In-Waiting had noticed this, for he reached forward and tapped her upon the wrist gently, as she had done before.
Startling awake once more, she tucked her arms around her knees, shaking her head to clear the sleep away. Quickly, she forced herself back into the mindset, filtering through her mind what question had been bugging her.
“Do....do flower fae eat?” At her inquiry, hardly a pause passed before he hummed with a short nod of his head. Of course they ate, that was what kept them from starving, no?
“Yes, but we’re primarily vegetarians. At least, my family was. I still am.” He set the little flower back on the ground, guiding the stem back into the dirt to reconnect to the root. He waved his hand over the limp flower, which immediately sprang back up to full health. ”I like salads a lot. Did you know you can put dandelions in salads? And other kinds of flowers too. I like broccoli a lot. And kale.”
The two merely stared at each other for a moment. Flower fae and humanfolk child, both rather curious and intrigued by the being that sat before them. It was absolutely bewildering to the girl that the fae ate broccoli, just like her. Except she hated broccoli, disgusting little trees.
"What....what drives you to keep going, after all these years?" The question broke through, as the flower fae folded his hands upon the lap of his outstretched legs. From here, even she could see the little wearing holes in the material from usage, or perhaps accidental injuries.

"Have you ever thought about how beautiful it is to be alive?" His response was soft, as easy going as lapping waves upon a shoreline, or the gentle flight of a bee landing upon a pollen-packed flower. A whimsical air took to his tone, as if his voice itself was dancing upon the breeze. "Brilliant skies and the company of flowers. Warm breezes and fields full of friends. The pain and hurt never goes away, not even with a full night of sleep, but I keep moving. It is the only way to hold my head high. My babies would not want me to falter."
The cloudy-eyed boy was quiet for a moment, trailing off after he spoke. The tips of his ears blushed a light pink, yet he didn't seem to mind, even as he reached a hand up to tug at one of the silver jewelry pierced on the helix of his ear. Even the child had fallen into a stupor, listening to the words as they came, and hardly daring to peep after he was finished. Yet, there was one question itching in the back of her throat, she'd always been rather curious about....

"If you're over a thousand years old, surely you've...surely you've been in love before? Or are in love. Mama says she met my Papa rather early on in life-..." She cut herself off, letting the fae speak if he wished to. A quick shake of his head followed, a simple answer to a simple question for him.
"No, I haven't found somebody for life-...I don't think I've ever-..." A blush tinged his pale face pink, a rather embarrassed look on his face for somebody so calm and collected. "To tell you the truth, I used to have a-...consort," He looked at her evenly, assessing her age between somewhere the mark of adolescence and young adulthood for mortal folk. "Do you know what that is, flower bud?" She nodded quickly, and he continued on.

"I-...I used to have one. But-...I didn't know what you were supposed to do with a consort. I didn't-...want to do anything. Not at all, I just wanted somebody to sleep next to-..." His voice increasingly decrescendos, with the blush on his face burning. Surprisingly, the girl merely watched him with a straight face, this sort of stuff didn't bother her anymore. "Eventually they...broke it off. Nothing personal, they just wanted something out of it. I just-...don't want to do that kind of stuff. I still can feel...romance...just-...not that."

"Do-...do people often assume you're just some fae with his head stuck in the clouds?" The sudden segue from topics moved from her, and Farren easily switched off of the embarrassment from before. The pink eventually faded from his face, and found another thoughtful drifting across his face. He yawned, quietly.
"Sometimes. It can be a little annoying, but fae usually show me respect, being-...being the status I am. I believe I am less threatening, with my jokes and recommendations for full nights of sleep." He smiled, through the drowsiness plaguing his gaze, while he tilted his head to the side. Amusement played on his lips, and the girl was quick to quirk an eyebrow. "How did the flower become queen?" The little inquiry was sent her way, and she could almost hear the build up of a joke.

"How?"

....

"She rose to power." A little breathy laugh escaped him, nearly silent as his shoulder's shook. The youngling merely....paused, before shaking her head quickly, with a tiny smile.
"That was a good one." A quiet thank you left him, before he moved his hands to rest beside himself, threading his fingers through the earth. Perhaps that grounded him?

"Is-....is being a fae scary? Especially being an Inner-Court one?" At the juvenile question, he merely smiled, with a small nod....or perhaps he was just flicking a wavy strand of white hair out of his eyes, she wasn't quite sure.
"Sometimes. I've never been a fan of fighting...seeing fae in pain, so I'm always sure to apologize. It was more terrifying at first, they-.." His voice trailed off then, growing more soft-spoken than it had before. Soon, no sound left his mouth, yet his lips still moved. A far away look took to his gaze, and the girl was quick to speak.
"Farren?" She said, concerned as she rubbed a hand across her own dirt smudged cheek. His name seemed to startle him out of the bought of muteness he had fallen into, his voice quickly raising up to the gentle tone once more.

"The scariest moment-....after I left, and when I was growing. Before I became-...Inner-Court, they wanted to test my regenerative power, see how strong it was before my status accentuated it even more...they kept cutting and cut-...." He trailed off once his eyes flicked over to the child's face, studying the horror that began to appear. Quickly, a smile pulled at his lips, reassuring. "No matter, I was okay. That doesn't even take into the account of how many times I accidentally impale myself in one day."

This guy sounded...kind of nuts to her. Despite the kind and shy demure he put off...he was powerful. Nearly indestructible in her eyes. She couldn't forget that. "What do most fae think about you?" Came her quiet voice, nearly quivering from what she just heard. At once, that familiar feeling pulled at her anxiety, easing into her system as he reached out and patted her hand.

"I believe they think of me respectfully, like I said before but-....any of those who believe I am lesser, because of my nature and being-...I simply let them be." He smiled, kind and gently, his fingers long having been preoccupied by forming a flower crown after he touched her hand. His fingers wove the stems and petals together with surprising ease, nearly completed with the first one.
"When you-....when you left your village, how scared did you feel? And when you came to the courts?" A simple shrug moved his shoulders at this question, while the child's eyes remained glued to the smooth movements of his fingers. Transfixed by the making of the flower crowns, she nearly missed his reply.

"I was a young fae, having to leave my family and friends. I was terrified. But I knew it would be better for me there, and better for-...for my past to remain in the village." She wasn't quite sure what he meant by the end of the reply, but braced herself for when he reached forward and plopped the flower crown onto her head. Petals of orange, red, and yellow floated down around her as they were loosed from the crown.
"In the court, I was clueless. I didn't know anything about-....politics, or whatever you call it. I was simply just a small flower fae from an unknown village with hardly any connections besides some distant relatives." A small hum parted from him, as he set his own flower crown upon his head, between his magnificent horns. Tapping it, he nodded with satisfaction, while he rounded off his answer. "But I learned."

By this point, evening was beginning to cut into the bright skies of the afternoon, beckoning a dusk that was soon to come. Immediately, the girl's eyes shot up to the sky with fright, while she began to clamber to her feet. As the girl stood, the fae moved as well, raising to his full height of 7 feet that towered over her. Normally, this would have been rather terrifying, but the familiar ease of relaxation pulled at her.
Smiling down at her, the fae was quick to pick her up, his touch soft and gentle as he scooped her off her feet. The drowsiness nearly overtook her, before protests began to leave her lips.
"Wa...wait, wait-...m'parents-....supper..." She tapped her fists against his chest weakly, her head lolling to rest against him. Farren merely hushed her, beginning to move through the meadow of poppies as he spoke softly.
"It's okay, little flower bud." He said, holding her against him securely, his steps smooth as he walked. Only a few stumbles jostled her, as he misstepped, but the glamour he envoked was enough to nearly pull her under. "I saw your home not too far from here, when I was wandering, before I found this meadow. I shall take you there, fear not." She merely nodded, drowsily as her eyes closed, heavy from sleep.

Hardly a peep left her, yet a simple -and final- question left her lips for the King-In-Waiting. A Seelie fae, whom proven not to be as mischievous as believed to be, but a fae who only wanted others to get good nights of sleep.
"How....would-....you describe-... yourself?" A yawn parted from her lips as she murmured, her eyes having long since abandoned the thought of opening once more. She could feel the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest against her, and that seemed to lull her off to the land of sleep. Fighting to keep awake, the youngling only managed to hear bits of his reply as he spoke.

"Quiet-...." The first word, a good descriptor for his voice and mannerisms. "...Gentle," This, she could agree with. He had been nothing but gentle with her, "Peaceful..." Nothing seemed to bother him, besides mentions of his height or fighting..."Loyal.." He did seem rather committed to his cause. "Sleepy." A giggle, a soft titter that parted from him.

At the end of his response, the girl could find herself drifting off to a peaceful sleep. A rest better than any she had taken in her life, the youngling found herself without dreams meeting her, even as her eyes clicked close. The final view of the pale fae greeted her with dreamy eyes and a kind smile, the poppies framing his face in their brilliant reds.
She could only hope he actually dropped her off at the right house. But for right now, she was going to sleep. Sleep was good, it gave you a longer life. The poppies love sleep, that is why they are always happy. Isn't that what he said?

Abilities

THE DARLING DEMON: A rather lovely nickname, no? Well, Farren is hardly anything close to a demon, besides the horns sprouting from his head. His powers, however, are rather strong, which may be a bit of an understatement to some. His glamour is considered the strongest in both lands of the fae. Being an Inner-Court status fae, along with holding the title of King-In-Waiting of the Seelie Court, Farren holds status above majority of the fae in the Seelie lands.

With his power, this includes a strong glamour that seems to radiate off of him wherever he goes. He can control it, either strengthening or weakening it, yet sometime chooses not too. The glamour evokes a feeling of a tranquil state, a wave of ease washing off anybody that is weak to the power. If invoked, it can cause a bought of sleepiness, that can start off with a simple drowsiness, to downright passing out to a deep and peaceful sleep if Farren enforced it enough. (This will only be enforced via player permission, but being in his presence automatically invokes a peaceful feeling in said character, whether it strong or weak.)
Another addition of his ‘demonic power’, is being able to physically steal the energy and vitality of others. This is done by touch of the hand, and only that way, and is his most rarely used power. He doesn’t like doing it, and normally would only choose to steal a little in battle, or if he is feeling cornered.

Being a fae, Farren has enhanced strength, agility (he is rather clumsy, although, this doesn’t seem to be his strongest point), and a lengthened vitality. He ages slow, being a flower fae, and thus retains his youthful features longer despite being over a thousand years old.

ENHANCED HEALING FACTOR: A blessing when it comes to paper cuts, because they’re healed instantly. It also helps with accidental impalements, because those seem to happen a lot with him. In this power is also limb regeneration, a rather tricky little ability he possess.
Rather simply put, if any of his legs, arms, fingers and/or toes are cut off, pop! They’re back again. It’s rather annoying when an enemy is trying to hack off his limbs and they just keep coming back This also works if they’re cauterized, or if the slice isn’t so clean cut. Each regeneration takes something between 5-10 minutes, depending on the wound.

If cut in half, he's dead. No growing back anything after that. However, he can get impaled and survive. Yay.
Despite having an enhanced healing factor, this does not take away the pain of being injured. It used to hurt much worse when he was younger, and his power was being tested, the pain has since dulled to a quiet ache, still present, but tolerable. That doesn’t mean he won’t complain about it still, even if it has healed hours ago.

Each regenation takes a small-medium amount of energy, and can tire him out quickly depending on the size of the limb he has to grow back

CHARMSPEAK: Tying into his glamour, his voice is imbued with the power of charmspeak. It is used to influence feelings or thought, usually to subdue an enemy or anybody who’s acting too rambunctious for Farren’s liking. Sometimes it accidentally slips into his voice when he’s making suggestions (usually about getting enough sleep), but he’s usually not partial to using it often. Up to the discretion of the player on how it will affect their character.

THE POPPY FAE: Flower fae always have a core flower, and when they are born, such flower is discovered at birth. Both of Farren’s parents had the core flower of poppies, and so it was guaranteed that Farren was going to be granted such a flower. And so, when he was born, Farren was a flower fae of poppies.

Being connected to poppies has it’s perks. Farren is able to make poppies sprout from the ground, no matter what kind of terrain he treads on. From the touch of his fingerpads, or the prod of his toes upon the ground, poppies bloom from the ground in array of orange and reds.
Another benefit is automatic friends. Farren is able to communicate with the poppies, and they in turn converse with him via flower language. He holds a kinship towards them, calling them his babies whenever referencing them. His poppies can often be used in battle, with helping distract and/or tie the enemy down, but they are easily ripped apart. He doesn’t like to use them in battle because of this reason, it always hurts his heart whenever he sees his babies hurt.

Other Attributes

IRON AND OTHER DELIGHTS: Being fae, Farren is automatically weakened by iron after long exposure and like normal fair folk, stays away from the metal. He has a rather aversion to fire, because it has the ability to burn his poppies (and if a limb is burned off, he doesn’t regenerate as fast and sustains the pain of his injuries longer) but he tolerates it. Although he cannot die from illness, he is still able to catch small common colds and those are rather nasty buggers.

THE GLAIVE: Since he was a child, his parents and relatives have trained him in the art of wielding a glaive. He is skilled at it, and with his enhanced agility, is rather deadly in battle when he puts his mind to it. Usually, he does not like wielding it to hurt others, but will carry it on his person whenever tensions are high between the courts or he feels threatened.

About the Author...

OOC ALIAS: DEEEEEEEEEEEEE
PREFERRED PRONOUN: my favorite letter is E
PREFERRED CONTACT: sorry i only talk to birds
HOW DID YOU FIND ROTB?: didn’t ROTB find me

Coded by Ducky for RotB
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♔ CARMA
 Posted: Apr 23 2017, 12:00 PM
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??? • Canadian • Feels • The snowy place


accepted

YOUR VERY FIRST SON look how beautiful he ISSSSSS.

Omgeeeee I loved reading this app, he seems like such a precious lil flower bean. WHO IS KING IN WAITING LIKE WHOA MAN WHOA. What a life he leads ;w; Just please don't get cut in half that would suck so much.

MAKE YOUR CLAIMS!

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