25th Winter, 516 AV
Synopsis :
Deep in the twisting trees of Falyndar swung a set of hanging houses, made entirely of cloth, rope and luck. From inside one such house a woman, elegantly made up with deep red blusher on her cheeks and devilishly flicked eyeliner, hollered to her friend in the house below.
"Ange-LINA! Whatchu doin'?" Despite her beautiful and coiffured appearance, the woman was a rough-mouthed as a sailor. Angelina, the aforementioned friend, dropped with shock from her silken bunkbed with a thunk onto the floor of her house. Thankfully, the material provided a soft landing, but she cursed Violet (for that was the sailor-mouthed woman's name, after all) even so for her rude awakening. "Violet, you know I have a nap at this time!" She couldn't help but laugh though as Violet appeared at her door, grinning like a lunatic as she offered a banana to her with her feet.
The two had been friends since forever. Alvadas had been their playground, and as most children who grew up in the city turned out differently than most, it was no surprise to the children's parents when they had never grown up. Mentally, at least. Violet and Angelina had always exuded an air of childish amusement, but despite it's apparent drawbacks (in their parents eyes) the two had found they had a good life. Of course, they'd had their ups and downs, but in their old age, life was proving to be most pleasant.
Nothing exemplified this more than the ten other friends living with them currently in the beautiful green foliage of Falyndar. Geraldine, Harriet, Cathy, Luciana, Emma, Roberta, Nancy, Clariette, and of course Violet and Angelina. The ten of them were the Afalines, a group they had founded in an evening when they had all got as drunk as fish in a barrel of beer and found themselves the next morning tattooed with a crimson heart in the exact same place. (Their ankles, if you must know).
Since then, the ten women had enjoyed a life of tricks and giggles, only amplified by being in Ionu's playground. Yet despite this, one of their number was feeling uncharacteristically... sad. As they congregated for breakfast at the park benches they had created on the forest floor, surrounded by illusionary birds that grunted like pigs, Angelina felt a wistful expression taking over her kindly, laughter-creased face. There was something, no... someone that she missed, terribly. Yet what could she do about it?
OOCI cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken, Phira.
