Vionora

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About Vionora

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  1. Nightmare: One Last Breath

    The Nightmare realm was disintegrating. One by one, those who had been drawn in overcame or fell to their own inner demons. Structures, people, worlds built of feral, fel-tinged twilight unraveled, exposing more and more of the twilight realm's featureless horizon. The shade of Vionora observed, so much as something without opinions can observe, but there was something more, now. The faintest hint of expectation. Of waiting. A whisper of intention. At last, there was only one nightmare left. Naheal struggled to fend off his own nightmare after assisting with others. Perhaps focusing on others had only served to delay his facing of the insurmountable. But as it turned out, he wasn't alone. Sinaku was there, as were Aaren, Taozhu, and Caldrien, having plunged back into the twilit nightmare to save him. Together they faced the last active fragment of Accalia in a bitter battle. The shade of Vionora watched as the tide turned against the Beast-God and the last nightmare began to unravel. At the last moment, Accalia turned to flee. There was enough of Accalia's essence left, undefeated, that if this part escaped, she would recover in time. The cycle of the curse of the Eclipse would continue. Vionora's suffering, her life, and her death, would have all been in vain. Nothing she had done would have made a difference, her every action, her every wish and desire, negated and discarded by the world. And the part of her self that had never given up, had refused to change despite the suffering that resulted, and which carried just enough will to have survived being absorbed by Accalia, acted. When she materialized this time in Naheal's nightmare, she knew that she was truly herself. She wasn't being formed of Naheal's perceptions of her, or anyone else's. She was barely there, a ghost of a ghost, but her will persisted. And it was sufficient to hold Accalia in place. Accalia howled and struggled but was too weakened to escape. The others didn't waste any time questioning her presence. With the use of the Sacren Stone, they gathered the energy of the collapsing Nightmare realm and turned it against Accalia. Vionora felt it as the energy came rushing at the remnant of the Beast-God. She was still holding Accalia in place; but the truth was, even if she had let go, she would have been swept into the energy regardless. She was a part of Accalia now, and only existed within her. Vionora closed her eyes as the power overwhelmed them. Accalia would be defeated, once and for all, this day. It was enough. Into the Twisting Nether the last remnant of Accalia fell, and with her the faint shade of Vionora. ****************** On Darkmoon Isle, under mist-wreathed trees, a discarded soulstone glimmered ever so faintly.
  2. Nightmare: One Last Breath

    Vionora tried to hold on, to remember why it mattered, to not lose how those precious moments felt… but Accalia’s power faded with the crumbling of the nightmare, and the will of another alone was no longer capable of holding her together. She dispersed back into the darkness, and it swallowed her once more in the peace of numbness. Only the faintest impressions remained; an echo, perhaps, of the person she had been. There were brief wonderings, almost thoughts, but not quite. One such almost-thought reflected on how it was impossible to say if she had truly seized the chance to help someone she had cared about. How much had been the true Vionora, and how much had been the person Tirien had wanted to believe she was? As with Malhavik, it had been Tirien’s will that gave her form again, because there was simply not enough of her left to have a will of her own. What she had done, what she had been, for a little while, was probably more a product of Tirien’s wishes than anything else. In the end, an echo sounded different depending on what reflected it. Yet something about this vaguely acknowledged concept disturbed whatever remained of Vionora. It was like the stirring of the lightest breeze, or a barely discernible ripple in water. Her life, her entire, miserable life had been spent suffering the rejection of who and what she was. She had been blamed for her heritage, reprimanded for showing distress, and despised for the actions she was driven to. Yet there had always been a part of her that knew it was unfair. There was a part of her that refused to ever internalize what she was told – to try to change and become whatever it was the rest of the world wanted her to be. It was true she knew she couldn’t be anything other than herself, anyway, and that trying would only be futile… but she also knew she shouldn’t have to be. She wanted to be accepted and loved just the way she was. Everyone did. At the end, she had believed that she would always instinctively seek out self-destruction, and that that would endanger those she cared about. But that self-destructive bent had been instilled in her by the cruelties of the world. It wasn’t what she wanted, but what she had come to believe she deserved, and believed too deeply to be saved in time. She understood that now, when it was far too late. When, then, had she had a chance to be what she really was? Malhavik had outright tried to make something of her she wasn’t. And while Tirien had tried to help her, no one could have saved her from herself at that point, and now all he could see was what he wished she’d been able to become. Which wasn’t real – it was cheating. She hadn’t done it on her own. All of this was merely a trembling in the twisting nether, a vibration in the energies within Accalia’s twilight. But it was all she was. And this… this one the one thing she would never give up.
  3. Nightmare: One Last Breath

    She returned to peace after that. There was nothing more that could be done. Whatever chances she'd had were gone now; whatever regrets she had were moot. And though nothing mattered anymore, that was not a bad thing. It simply... was. But there was another trapped in the twilight whose thoughts called to her, summoning the remnants of her essence. She was given a chance to make a difference.
  4. Just ain't the same

    It was Tirien. Knowing him even with the age upon his features and the dark robes cloaking his figure, Vionora’s heart had sunk to see him, though she couldn’t pull her eyes away. She didn’t know at first where she was supposed to be or what was ostensibly going on, but she knew what this was, and to see him here meant she hadn’t sent him far enough away. It meant that there hadn’t been anywhere far enough to keep him safe. But she was here too. Something had breathed life into her again; something had pulled the scattered fragments of thought and lost wishes together. Or maybe she was just an echo, Tirien’s memory of what she was, and not so much the person she had actually been. Vionora didn’t care. She had a chance to save him. The webs and windings of the nightmare surrounded her, visible to her and only her as lines of feral twilight spinning through every structure and person and flickering flame. The things Tirien did not focus on were shadows and suggestions, no more, the world itself beyond Stormwind disappearing into utter void. Even when she looked down at herself, it was the same as it had been with Malhavik: although he didn’t even recognize her now, she only appeared as Tirien, on some level, had seen her. One way or another, Vionora was no more real than this nightmare world. In this world, Tirien was a warlock. He was everything his father had been. Of course that was his nightmare. She didn’t dare just try to talk sense into him; Accalia’s influence had twisted and blinded him. He would react like a sleepwalker suddenly confronted and lash out, as she had discovered. No, if she wanted to help him, all she could do was play along, and try to remind him of who he really was. Some part of him had to remember. Because, she knew on a level deeper than instinct, why else would she be here? And yet for him to treat her so cruelly… The pain he had inflicted simply to teach her a lesson burned brightly in her memories, though the marks had faded the moment he’d left. It was more agonizing than it had been when Hunter had worn Tirien’s face and hurt her in the past. She had known that wasn’t really Tirien. And while this wasn’t either, it was a Tirien who could have been, that some buried part of him understood his potential to become. And cruelty from the one who had refused to ever hurt her had cut deeper than her dreamed-up flesh, sinking to the deepest part of what her soul had once been. It was only the knowledge that she had to save him that kept it from overtaking her, that kept her from submitting to, to welcoming, the sublimity of suffering once more. But maybe, she thought, that she even felt that desire meant she really was herself… Or was that a part of her Tirien had understood? Distantly, Vionora thought she could hear a howl. She waited in the tavern above the catacombs. Her surroundings responded grudgingly without Tirien present, but she exerted her will and the twilight drew on Tirien’s knowledge and expectations accordingly. It was like lucid dreaming with someone else’s mind. She had to tread carefully, lest the dream be pushed too far and be caused to snap back to its original shape – without her. But Tirien expected her to find Michael, and so she did. He ducked inside, out of the heavy rain. The resemblance he shared with Tirien was uncanny to her, made all the more so by the realization that she recognized the way he moved from the times she had seen him in control. It was like seeing an impostor Michael, and perhaps he was, because looking at him, Vionora could only see more lines and threads of twilight. In contrast, Tirien had shone like the sun, albeit buried beneath the muffling, suffocating layers of twilight. It was evidence that Tirien was the only thing here that was real. Michael looked around and saw her. She held his gaze until he was sure she was his contact. He walked over to the table, and she rose to curtsey. “Lord Forewell,” she said. “Just Michael, please,” he responded. Those words and his open expression, though showing a little concern, made Vionora smile. The nightmare hadn’t tarnished Tirien’s image of his brother in the slightest. Then he asked, “I understand you have something for me regarding my brother?”, and her smile faded as she came to grasp the implications of that fact. He waved her to a seat, and they sat across from one another. Vionora arranged her skirts and considered where to begin. It would probably be best to start with the conflict that she saw; the pattern of the web enfolding them. “How long have you and your brother been at odds?” she asked. Michael reeled back a bit. “Uh… Hm…” He folded his arms. Something about the gesture reminded Vionora powerfully of Tirien, especially since this Michael was much closer to what Tirien’s age was supposed to be. “More than a decade, I know that,” he said. “You two used to be so close… or so I understand,” she said with care as the threads vibrated in warning. Her presumptions were barely tolerated. “We were,” he said with emphasis on the second word. “When did he… turn to the fel?” It was still so impossible to imagine him doing that, even though she’d seen it with her own eyes. “And why?” she had to add. “He hated it...” A sad look touched Michael’s expression. “So it’s true, then,” he said. Vionora inclined her head, and he clicked his tongue the way the Forewells all did and kicked at the chair. “I’ve heard rumors, everyone has, that he employs demons to deal with his enemies,” he said. “There was a time he would have never, ever consorted with demons, or anything fel,” Vionora said. “Yeah. I thought that part of him still held true which is why I hoped…” His voice trailed off, and he rested his forehead in his fingers. Vionora looked at him, at this conception of a young boy that Tirien loved with all his heart, grown into a young man Tirien was destined to not understand and see only as a threat. What answers could he give her, plucked from the depths of Tirien’s psyche? “What happened?” she asked after a moment, daring to probe deeper despite the web shifting around them. “How did you get free?” “I have no idea,” he said. That he grasped of what she spoke so easily, without question, reminded her that this was a dream; that she spoke to a ghost. “It just felt like a miracle of the Light.” “And Hunter…?” she asked. “Is he… gone?” Michael nodded. “Of that I am positive,” he said. “He died fighting Accalia in a vain attempt to steal her power. I saw it, Hunter’s nightmare.” The web shuddered in protest, but it rang with truth like the rest hadn’t. Tirien had seen it. Hunter was truly defeated. Vionora’s hopes rose. Hunter had once said that his and his sons’ souls were fused, never to be separated, but here, even a wisp could be reformed; to unfuse souls was not beyond the realm of the twilight. If she could free Tirien from his nightmare, he would truly, truly be safe, even from the things Vionora could no longer hope to affect. If she could free him. She thought she heard another howl, closer. “Accalia consumed him too?” she said distractedly, and Michael nodded – again, she realized, taking the conflicting implications at face value. Yet that made her realize something else. If this was not the true Michael… then where was he? “Did you have a nightmare?” she asked, focusing on him. “No, I didn’t,” he said, calmly; too calmly. The web didn’t react in any way, almost as though tensed and waiting. Vionora intuited, then, with a flash of insight, the greater pattern of the web that stretched far beyond the hazy borders of this nightmare, spanning through the twilight realm where others still lay trapped in its snarls. Even though Michael’s soul was not here, his fate still hung in the balance. If Tirien was not saved, he could not save Michael. She took a soft breath, and dared push as hard as she could. “What about… Tirien?” Michael thought. He looked troubled. “I’ve asked him about it, but he would never go into detail. I don’t think he remembers it.” A tendril of the web snapped. Vionora would have flinched if she could have, but she couldn’t. She had gone too far, and now the strands tightened around her in response. “So, what news do you have of Tirien?” Michael asked. He looked hopeful. She pressed forward, ignoring the web closing in. “I need your help to turn him back from this path he’s on. It’s the only way to save him. He’s going to… do something he’ll forever regret.” Her hands fisted in her skirts as howls sounded, unheard by anyone else. Michael leaned forward, earnest and eager to help; vulnerable. “Anything,” he said. “What do you need me to do?” And Tirien’s nightmare imposed itself on her. There was only one way this meeting was supposed to end, and it wasn’t with Michael coming to her aid to save his brother. “He wants me to kidnap you,” she whispered. He stared at her. “He wha—” The howls had closed in. The webs formed the jaws of worgs closing on her wrists and neck, directing her actions. Somehow, Vionora called forth demonic terrors to tear open a portal behind Michael. A dark force yanked him back from his seat. He only had scant seconds to mouth ‘no’ in disbelief before he was gone.
  5. <p>Who is Zakael?</p>

  6. <p>Gahhhhhhhhhhh</p>

  7. <p>Wait and find out!</p>

  8. <p>What is happening!!</p>

  9. Eclipse: Between Shadow and Darkness

    Malhavik was infuriated with her for rescuing Aaren and throwing his plans with Fhenrir into jeopardy. But she calmly told him to not expect her to stand by and let someone she cared about die – because he wasn't the master of her. To which he asked who was, and she told him: herself. Even if she gave herself to him, it was her decision; she was ultimately in control of her own life. Maybe it had been true all along. Life had heaped everything from indignities to unspeakable cruelties on her, but the choice of how to react to them had always been hers to make. While the choices she'd made were understandable, a great part of them something it would hard to blame her for, it had taken her this long to believe she could even be anything besides a victim. It wasn't going to be easy, learning to fight the instinct to give up. There were pitfalls she couldn't even fathom down that path. Chief among them was taking responsibility for how her actions had and would hurt others. But she was determined. Yet Accalia was coming. A new perspective wouldn't be able to save her from the choices she'd already made. And the light she'd found, reflected by those around her, would illuminate the truth of why she'd taken the path she had. *** fin
  10. Semi-final update of thread list. The list and summary will be updated one final time when people are done adding to their nightmares.
  11. Vionora Minara

    [[ Final update, barring last threads to be added. ]]
  12. Nightmare: One Last Breath

    Can you dream when you don't exist? Her soul had been devoured, torn into shreds and dissolved into energy to feed Accalia. But Accalia yet existed, and therefore, a shade of Vionora existed within her. She couldn't form complete thoughts, or feel much emotion; her memories were made vague and irrelevant. But she understood what had happened and her current situation, and through the twilight void that was both Accalia and Accalia's prison, the faint echo of her soul wandered. Vionora didn't know it, but her circumstances were not unlike those someone she had encountered had endured. All she really thought was that the absence of suffering was peaceful. Death was peaceful. Although she still existed in a way, the idea of ceasing to exist did not trouble her. She might have continued on this way until Accalia was destroyed, except that she wasn't alone in the twilight. The thoughts of another latched onto the echo of Vionora, and, for a time, gave her a semblance of life again.
  13. Nightmare: Priorities.

    With her eyes closed, Vionora didn't see the despair twisting his features, but she heard it. She had tried so hard to keep his approval. For months, even when they were together, it had been a constant struggle. It was one seemingly between them; but in the end, it was only against themselves. Vionora could not be what he wanted her to be. Despite the immense cruelties the world had heaped on her, she had never really wanted anyone else to suffer the same. But it was the impossibility of it that had drawn her to him. Only now, after he finally rejected her, did she understand that that rejection was what she had been looking for all along. And yet she had spoken truly when she'd said he couldn't hurt her. In the end, she had been hurting herself. He had only ever been what she'd wanted. But there was no pain now. The only thing she felt was her own share of regret. So much wasted time. So many wounds never allowed to heal. She opened her eyes to see the shadows that stitched the illusory inn together were coming apart. So, too, was she. To the void she returned.
  14. Cast Xara (Vionora, Xaraphyne, Julilee, Filora, and Nokokomah) Naheal (Naheal, Naheal, and Naheal... j/k) Malhavik (Malhavik and Grinjowl) Breygrah (Breygrah and Aaren) Konro (Konro, Shokkra, Alakroz, Karthok, and Telerian) Darethy (Darrethy) Kerala (Kerala, Lomani, Anura, Coqui, and Chanchu) Kexti (Kex'ti and Tesonii) Cobrak (Taozhu, Cobrak, Caldrien, and Brammorn) Tirien (Tirien, Hunter, and Michael) Fhenrir (Fhenrir and Fhenrir... seriously) Syreena (Syreena and Maxissa) Stepanos (Stepanos, Fidjit, and Ja'breeve) Smithe (Smithe) Emmeran (Emmeran) Hegran (Hegran) Lupinum (Lupinum) Khorvis (Khorvis) Ruuki (Ruuki) Cen (Brast) Awatu (Awatu and Borghul) Inzema (Inzema and Qarosimae) Talfryn (Talfryn) Alfirin (Alfirin) Grimal (Grimal) Vilmah (Bellame) Leyujin (Leyu'jin) Lilliana (Lilliana) Brinnea (Brinnea) Civarra (Shaena and Civarra) Saphiara (Saphiara, Malethia, and Malethia) Gazreeth (Gazreeth... for GM) Selash (Selash) Faelenor (Faelenor) Amalyn (Amalyn) Mudhide (Mudhide) Jenasis (Jenasis) Astraea (Astraea)
  15. Several weeks later, finally writing a wrap-up post... Well, better late than never! Where to begin? Definitely first and foremost, I want to say thank you to every participant for your wholehearted support. It made all the difference in the world. I'm humbled by how fully my not-so-little idea was embraced by the community. Even people who didn't participate have said they thought it was cool. But Eclipse would not have been a fraction of what it was if folks hadn't jumped in unreservedly like they did. Simply put, my greatest hopes were exceeded, and it's all because of you guys. Thank you so much for letting me do this. It's sincerely been one of the greatest highlights of my WoW experience, which includes quite a bit. One thing I particularly appreciate is how everyone accepted, adopted even, Vionora – an "anti-villain" as Darrethy kindly called her, but more accurately a cliché pile of emo tropes that I can't believe no one ever rolled their eyes at. It was kind of sweet, actually, how no one ever pointed it out, like you were all afraid I didn't know and didn't want to burst my bubble. But it was very freeing to just play her as she was, and thank you all for that. That's really what Eclipse was about, though... No judgment; just having fun. It didn't matter how many people got kidnapped, threw themselves headlong into danger, appeared in the right place at the right time, or had whatever else happen that was way over the top. We weren't writing the next great novel, we were just doing whatever sounded the most fun at the time. And as a result, a whole lot of fun was had. As intended, Eclipse was just backdrop for everyone to tell their own stories and develop their own characters. That is what we're all in this to do, after all. If Eclipse ends up being a significant event in some characters' histories, and staying a small part of server lore for as long as any of its players are around, then I'll be honored. And maybe in another seven years, some part of it will still live on. Thanks go to the GMs of the original plot, Rannoch and Theira, who were kind enough to give me their blessing in carrying on the story they originally created. Also thank you to Naheal, the other veteran of the first Eclipse plot, whose support was invaluable. But again, the biggest thanks go to all the players. Thank you so much. Love, Vionora/Xaraphyne/Julilee/Filora Edit: oh geez I'm the worst wife. Huge thanks also to my husband for not only putting up with me spending almost every free minute I had for three months on WoW (at least I'm sure it felt that way!) but for taking an interest in the story and being an awesome collaborator. By the way, the reason Eclipse isn't the #1 highlight of my WoW experiences is because I met him on WoW.