Written By Juniper
Dec. 7, 2018, 4:45 p.m.(2/18/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Perronne
She wrote "horny shape" in the whites, recorded forevermore before Vellichor and all of Arvum.
How does one transcribe a juvenile giggle?
How does one transcribe a juvenile giggle?
Written By Juniper
Dec. 4, 2018, 6:40 p.m.(2/12/1010 AR)
Relationship Note on Fortunato
An educational wish, to be sure. But you'd have to choose your subject wisely. Not everyone is capable of staring into their greatest fear and coming through unscathed. I'm not sure I could do it! Maybe if I knew my own greatest fear...
Written By Juniper
Dec. 4, 2018, 6:38 p.m.(2/12/1010 AR)
I've never been someone's muse before. It's exhilarating, I must say! To be muse for someone with Jayus' blessing, to see what I've inspired take shape and live by simply being. Such a gift.
Written By Juniper
Dec. 1, 2018, 5:18 p.m.(2/6/1010 AR)
It's been some time since I've posed a question of the city. Let's end that dry spell now!
If you could snap your fingers and with that gesture create something perfect, even divine, what would you craft and why?
It must be a thing, not a person or an intangible.
I think I'd have a dress made of mountain clouds and gold-streaked quartz from the stream beside our little mining camp where I grew up. Whenever I moved it would smell of meadow flowers with a hint of the pine needles that layered the high forest floor.
If you could snap your fingers and with that gesture create something perfect, even divine, what would you craft and why?
It must be a thing, not a person or an intangible.
I think I'd have a dress made of mountain clouds and gold-streaked quartz from the stream beside our little mining camp where I grew up. Whenever I moved it would smell of meadow flowers with a hint of the pine needles that layered the high forest floor.
Written By Juniper
Nov. 24, 2018, 1:27 a.m.(1/18/1010 AR)
I owe so many thanks. First to Father Aureth for trusting me to organize an event of this stature and then to Radiants Lumen and Saedrus, for supporting me in doing so.
To Master Felix, Guildmaster Joscelin, Mistress Adora and Lady Delilah, for providing prizes which inspired our combatants to greater heights.
To Dame Esoka, Colonel Harlex, Marquis Gaston, Dame Felicia, Lord Brogan, Marquessa Demura, Lady Kenna, Grandmaster Caspian, Celebrated Gianna, and Mistress Adora, for stepping up to battle with pillows in Aion's name.
To Grandmaster Caspian, crowned as the Dreamer's Champion for a day, and to the other victors: Celebrated Gianna who has the Most Flair, Dame Esoka who was Best Dressed and Lady Kenna who was the Fiercest.
To those who donated, my greatest thanks. Through your generousity, we raised 62,345.67 silver and 1760 economic writs, as well as 150 military writs, to be put towards the refinement and refurbishment of the Dreamer's own shrine. Not a space that was once shared, or one dedicated to Lost gods, but one which will be solely their own, for respect and worship. When the Faith has made its decisions as to the final form the space will take, I don't doubt everyone will look on it and know it was meant to be... though I wouldn't be surprised if we're still finding feathers there for years to come.
Thank you, all. You've made this mountain girl feel very, very humble and very, very proud.
To Master Felix, Guildmaster Joscelin, Mistress Adora and Lady Delilah, for providing prizes which inspired our combatants to greater heights.
To Dame Esoka, Colonel Harlex, Marquis Gaston, Dame Felicia, Lord Brogan, Marquessa Demura, Lady Kenna, Grandmaster Caspian, Celebrated Gianna, and Mistress Adora, for stepping up to battle with pillows in Aion's name.
To Grandmaster Caspian, crowned as the Dreamer's Champion for a day, and to the other victors: Celebrated Gianna who has the Most Flair, Dame Esoka who was Best Dressed and Lady Kenna who was the Fiercest.
To those who donated, my greatest thanks. Through your generousity, we raised 62,345.67 silver and 1760 economic writs, as well as 150 military writs, to be put towards the refinement and refurbishment of the Dreamer's own shrine. Not a space that was once shared, or one dedicated to Lost gods, but one which will be solely their own, for respect and worship. When the Faith has made its decisions as to the final form the space will take, I don't doubt everyone will look on it and know it was meant to be... though I wouldn't be surprised if we're still finding feathers there for years to come.
Thank you, all. You've made this mountain girl feel very, very humble and very, very proud.
Written By Juniper
Nov. 22, 2018, 3:52 p.m.(1/16/1010 AR)
Sometimes, a messenger arrives with a delivery and you have to forget that you're a cultured, dignified courtier, so that you can squeal with delight and maybe do a little dance too.
Lady Delilah Whitehawk has sent another prize for Aion's Melee and it is absolutely beautiful. A silk cloak dappled with stars and filigree and silver... oh, beautiful! Whomever wins this will look like a Seraph, shining and bright.
I truly cannot wait for the day itself.
Lady Delilah Whitehawk has sent another prize for Aion's Melee and it is absolutely beautiful. A silk cloak dappled with stars and filigree and silver... oh, beautiful! Whomever wins this will look like a Seraph, shining and bright.
I truly cannot wait for the day itself.
Written By Juniper
Nov. 21, 2018, 3:20 a.m.(1/12/1010 AR)
Aion's Grand Melee is almost upon us! I don't know about anyone else but I'm excited to see the people of Arx smacking each other with pillows, all in the name of raising funds to improve the Dreamer's own shrine.
As of today, we've a number of incredible prizes too.
Entwined Dreams, a pair of rubicund hairpins, by the legendary Felix Meadson, depicting a pair of slumbering lovers whose shared dreams depict Creation.
A Miniature Whisper House (complete with secret passages), by Mistress Adora.
Collectable dolls of Radiants Lumen and Saedrus, Softest Whisper Bliss, and Celebrated Whispers Calandra and Gianna.
SIX pieces of matched neodymium and champagne silver jewelry from Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius, in a stars and comets theme which may or may not go to several lucky winners or one very lucky winner.
Bring yourselves and your donations to the Shrine of the Lost on the appointed day and be prepared to take a pillow to the face! Or hit a lot of people in the face with the pillow. Either way, it's going to be incredible.
As of today, we've a number of incredible prizes too.
Entwined Dreams, a pair of rubicund hairpins, by the legendary Felix Meadson, depicting a pair of slumbering lovers whose shared dreams depict Creation.
A Miniature Whisper House (complete with secret passages), by Mistress Adora.
Collectable dolls of Radiants Lumen and Saedrus, Softest Whisper Bliss, and Celebrated Whispers Calandra and Gianna.
SIX pieces of matched neodymium and champagne silver jewelry from Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius, in a stars and comets theme which may or may not go to several lucky winners or one very lucky winner.
Bring yourselves and your donations to the Shrine of the Lost on the appointed day and be prepared to take a pillow to the face! Or hit a lot of people in the face with the pillow. Either way, it's going to be incredible.
Written By Juniper
Nov. 10, 2018, 10:46 p.m.(12/20/1009 AR)
I'm so excited! The plans for Aion's Grand Melee are coming together. Next week I'll pick up the aeterna and umbra pillows for the combatants. So far Master Felix and Master Sparte have donated towards the renovations, and Master Felix has crafted the most /beautiful/ hairpins to offer as one of the prizes. They're a matched set, one sleeping woman and one sleeping man, and when fitted into the hair, they entwine as if dreaming together. Isn't that lovely?
Others have so generously volunteered their skills as well and I can't wait to see what they produce. Mistress Adora's Whisper House dollhouse is already ready, of course, and fully stocked with the collectible figurines of the Radiants, and the Softest, and Celebrated Whispers Calandra and Gianna. And the other prizes still left to come...! Oh, but it's going to be breathtaking.
Once all the prizes are done, all that will be left will be to await the date itself, and hope we have a full field to compete for the rewards!
And, of course, to see the Dreamer's shrine rise bright and clean and magnificent again, as it should be. But that will take rather longer and this is only the first step.
Others have so generously volunteered their skills as well and I can't wait to see what they produce. Mistress Adora's Whisper House dollhouse is already ready, of course, and fully stocked with the collectible figurines of the Radiants, and the Softest, and Celebrated Whispers Calandra and Gianna. And the other prizes still left to come...! Oh, but it's going to be breathtaking.
Once all the prizes are done, all that will be left will be to await the date itself, and hope we have a full field to compete for the rewards!
And, of course, to see the Dreamer's shrine rise bright and clean and magnificent again, as it should be. But that will take rather longer and this is only the first step.
Written By Juniper
Oct. 15, 2018, 6:39 p.m.(10/14/1009 AR)
I’ve accidentally stumbled into precipitating the adoption of a plant into the Nox’alfar royal family. All hail Prince Percy Plantel’Noctis of the Twilight Court, long may he blossom.
My mother is going to be so proud. Her youngest all grown up to be Juniper Whisper, Princemaker!
My mother is going to be so proud. Her youngest all grown up to be Juniper Whisper, Princemaker!
Written By Juniper
Oct. 13, 2018, 7:49 p.m.(10/10/1009 AR)
Whisper House remains neutral, as I am certain will be confirmed by our Radiants when they have opportunity to put ink to paper, but it is certainly understood if there are doubts as to that neutrality under these circumstances. I'm sure the Faith will do an excellent job in seeking resolution in the matter between Bliss Whisper and House Telmar... though I do regret not having the opportunity to do so, ourselves.
Written By Juniper
Oct. 6, 2018, 4:15 p.m.(9/24/1009 AR)
Let us say someone forgot something of theirs and left it accidentally somewhere, and you picked it up for safekeeping. Is it evil or is it genius to hold that something hostage until they pay a token fine or toll? And, hypothetically speaking, what are some evil genius fines or tolls that could be asked of them?
Asking for a friend. A forgetful friend.
Asking for a friend. A forgetful friend.
Written By Juniper
Oct. 4, 2018, 5:22 a.m.(9/19/1009 AR)
I told someone the other day that I'd share one of the stories we'd tell at home. Here it is!
Why The Sea is Salt (Or: Never Trust Seadogs (look, we don't have many sailors in the North where I'm from)).
There once was a young man who would take a little pot of stew and a little loaf of bread to the old crone who lived in the cave above the village. Everyone else stayed far away from her for it was said she could curse with a look and draw blood with a word. But the young man was a good lad and he hated to see anyone go hungry, so he'd hunt the rabbits and hunt the squirrels, and pull up wild onions and garlic, to make her a stew, and from his own plate he'd take the loaf his mother had made him, and he'd carry it up to the cave so she could eat, for he thought it very sad an old woman would be left alone in the long dark winters with no stew or company.
One day when he brought her supper, he found her ailing on her little cot. He cried over her for theirs was not a wealthy village and he'd seen many people ailing before, some who died, and he could see the signs in her face of Death soon to come.
"Don't snivel," said the old woman. "I've had many years and none of them wasted, and I go to a far better place than this. Go fetch me the box in my chest."
The young man wiped away his tears and went to fetch the box from the chest. Inside was a little mill, gleaming with bright wood and polished brass, finer than any he'd ever seen before.
She told him, "I carried that away from the city when I came to these mountains. If you think of something you wish to have, be it flour or sugar or spice or coffee, and say, "Grind, grind, little mill," it will do its work and produce all you hope for. When you have enough, you say, "Stop, stop, little mill," and it will cease its grinding. Take it for the kindness you've shown me."
Then she turned her face to the wall and died.
When he saw her buried, he took the little mill, and he took his little bundle of belongings, and he set out into the world for her talk of cities had turned his head. He walked when he could walk, and rode when he could ride, and finally in due time he came to the place where land ended and water began. There he found a seaport and while asking around for a job, found a berth on a ship as an unseasoned hand. It was all very exciting to him, even the first storm which rose up. But it was very hard work and because he had come from the mountains, the seamen who had lived a life on water were very harsh with him. He took the worst watches, and the worst rations, when they gave him rations at all. On his hungriest nights, he drew out the little mill and whispered the words to it, and then he would eat, and that is how he kept himself while the ship scudded over the ocean.
One night, a sailor with his ear to the door heard the young man whispering to the little mill and when he pressed his eye to a hole in the wood, he saw the young man charming out a little salt to use upon his hardtack biscuit. The sailor went to the first mate and the first mate went to the captain and the captain went to the young man and demanded he give over the little mill. The young man refused that demand and the one which followed, attempting to bribe the little mill away with a generous gift of silver.
So the captain ordered the sailors to seize the young man and toss him overboard, and while they tended to that, he scooped up the little mill. The first sailor relayed to the captain that he must say, "Grind, grind, little mill," to make it work its magic and when the captain repeated these words, thinking of salt to sell and replenish their own stores, it began to grind. Very soon they had enough salt but the sailor, who had run so quickly to the first mate, had not heard the words which stopped the little mill from working its magic. Nothing they shouted at it had any effect and soon, the whole ship was filled with salt and then tipped over.
All of those wicked sailors were cast into the ocean where they drowned, just as they had done to the young man, and the ship and little mill went down too. But as the stopping words had never been said, the little mill continued to grind and grind and grind. It rests still on the bottom of the sea, and because it is there, the ocean has been and will always be salty.
(Postscript: Every time my father would tell this story, I would ask why the young man thought the crone was hungry if she had a little mill that could produce flour and sugar and spices and coffee, and if she really was capable of cursing with a look because the young man had died after all, and all for the want of going into the world. Every time, he would shush me and tell me it was time for bed. I think maybe I didn't take the lessons from this one that he might hope I would take.)
Why The Sea is Salt (Or: Never Trust Seadogs (look, we don't have many sailors in the North where I'm from)).
There once was a young man who would take a little pot of stew and a little loaf of bread to the old crone who lived in the cave above the village. Everyone else stayed far away from her for it was said she could curse with a look and draw blood with a word. But the young man was a good lad and he hated to see anyone go hungry, so he'd hunt the rabbits and hunt the squirrels, and pull up wild onions and garlic, to make her a stew, and from his own plate he'd take the loaf his mother had made him, and he'd carry it up to the cave so she could eat, for he thought it very sad an old woman would be left alone in the long dark winters with no stew or company.
One day when he brought her supper, he found her ailing on her little cot. He cried over her for theirs was not a wealthy village and he'd seen many people ailing before, some who died, and he could see the signs in her face of Death soon to come.
"Don't snivel," said the old woman. "I've had many years and none of them wasted, and I go to a far better place than this. Go fetch me the box in my chest."
The young man wiped away his tears and went to fetch the box from the chest. Inside was a little mill, gleaming with bright wood and polished brass, finer than any he'd ever seen before.
She told him, "I carried that away from the city when I came to these mountains. If you think of something you wish to have, be it flour or sugar or spice or coffee, and say, "Grind, grind, little mill," it will do its work and produce all you hope for. When you have enough, you say, "Stop, stop, little mill," and it will cease its grinding. Take it for the kindness you've shown me."
Then she turned her face to the wall and died.
When he saw her buried, he took the little mill, and he took his little bundle of belongings, and he set out into the world for her talk of cities had turned his head. He walked when he could walk, and rode when he could ride, and finally in due time he came to the place where land ended and water began. There he found a seaport and while asking around for a job, found a berth on a ship as an unseasoned hand. It was all very exciting to him, even the first storm which rose up. But it was very hard work and because he had come from the mountains, the seamen who had lived a life on water were very harsh with him. He took the worst watches, and the worst rations, when they gave him rations at all. On his hungriest nights, he drew out the little mill and whispered the words to it, and then he would eat, and that is how he kept himself while the ship scudded over the ocean.
One night, a sailor with his ear to the door heard the young man whispering to the little mill and when he pressed his eye to a hole in the wood, he saw the young man charming out a little salt to use upon his hardtack biscuit. The sailor went to the first mate and the first mate went to the captain and the captain went to the young man and demanded he give over the little mill. The young man refused that demand and the one which followed, attempting to bribe the little mill away with a generous gift of silver.
So the captain ordered the sailors to seize the young man and toss him overboard, and while they tended to that, he scooped up the little mill. The first sailor relayed to the captain that he must say, "Grind, grind, little mill," to make it work its magic and when the captain repeated these words, thinking of salt to sell and replenish their own stores, it began to grind. Very soon they had enough salt but the sailor, who had run so quickly to the first mate, had not heard the words which stopped the little mill from working its magic. Nothing they shouted at it had any effect and soon, the whole ship was filled with salt and then tipped over.
All of those wicked sailors were cast into the ocean where they drowned, just as they had done to the young man, and the ship and little mill went down too. But as the stopping words had never been said, the little mill continued to grind and grind and grind. It rests still on the bottom of the sea, and because it is there, the ocean has been and will always be salty.
(Postscript: Every time my father would tell this story, I would ask why the young man thought the crone was hungry if she had a little mill that could produce flour and sugar and spices and coffee, and if she really was capable of cursing with a look because the young man had died after all, and all for the want of going into the world. Every time, he would shush me and tell me it was time for bed. I think maybe I didn't take the lessons from this one that he might hope I would take.)
Written By Juniper
Oct. 2, 2018, 4:21 p.m.(9/16/1009 AR)
I was born common and remain so, though by the grace of the Whisper House have been raised to excellence in the eyes of Arvum. My toys as a child were fashioned of sticks and rocks and leaves, and I understood the joy of simple pleasures but also what it was to go to bed with an empty belly, and what it was like to lose the babies and the very old in hard winters. As a teenager, I was brought into a noble household and began to learn of finer things, including how to speak properly, how to safely polish jewelry, and how to lift a stain from velvet. As a Whisper, I was taught how to complement (and compliment!) people from all walks of life though the focus was always on the highest. I'm as common as they come though I walk now through splendid halls and wear expensive things. I might be able to run an estate but it would take the help of others who were born and raised to it and if I succeeded it would be due to their assistance, and the Whisper House's education, rather than my own merits.
A person may learn just about anything if they are called to do so and have the will. But I recognize I was not raised from birth with the tutors and examples the nobility have every day. It would not come as naturally to me, I would be donning a costume over those I've already put on in my life and even if I wear it easily, because I have practiced it a thousand times in private where no one may see me stumble, it is still a costume. There are expectations set upon the nobility, and in balance of that, they are born and educated in ways intended to help them achieve those expectations far more easily than a person born among ash and woodsmoke.
Yes, many take the advantages and apply them only to their own pleasures and interests. Many do prefer to indulge themselves. But as a general rule, they are born to their station and they wear it far more naturally than someone raised to it later in life.
It seems to me natural to be alarmed over the raising of a person not raised from birth to administrate. There are many aspects of running a barony or county or march which could be easily overlooked simply because one doesn't understand or realize they even exist. It does not make that person unworthy, or unfit, or a failure, or even a disaster waiting to happen. They may still be brave and honourable and intelligent and a good friend to their friends. It simply means that others recognize the greater potential for slips to be made, for things to be overlooked, for mistakes there to affect the lands around them, rippling up the chain to the higher echelons.
There are many things that could stand to be improved within our society (scandalous, I know!), but being shocked and wary of someone not trained to it suddenly being handed the reins of rulership (including the lives of the people who scrape and toil there) is not one of them.
A person may learn just about anything if they are called to do so and have the will. But I recognize I was not raised from birth with the tutors and examples the nobility have every day. It would not come as naturally to me, I would be donning a costume over those I've already put on in my life and even if I wear it easily, because I have practiced it a thousand times in private where no one may see me stumble, it is still a costume. There are expectations set upon the nobility, and in balance of that, they are born and educated in ways intended to help them achieve those expectations far more easily than a person born among ash and woodsmoke.
Yes, many take the advantages and apply them only to their own pleasures and interests. Many do prefer to indulge themselves. But as a general rule, they are born to their station and they wear it far more naturally than someone raised to it later in life.
It seems to me natural to be alarmed over the raising of a person not raised from birth to administrate. There are many aspects of running a barony or county or march which could be easily overlooked simply because one doesn't understand or realize they even exist. It does not make that person unworthy, or unfit, or a failure, or even a disaster waiting to happen. They may still be brave and honourable and intelligent and a good friend to their friends. It simply means that others recognize the greater potential for slips to be made, for things to be overlooked, for mistakes there to affect the lands around them, rippling up the chain to the higher echelons.
There are many things that could stand to be improved within our society (scandalous, I know!), but being shocked and wary of someone not trained to it suddenly being handed the reins of rulership (including the lives of the people who scrape and toil there) is not one of them.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 20, 2018, 8:59 p.m.(8/20/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Edain
I'm touched you would participate with my silly questions, your Grace. And with such a thoughtful, soul-baring answer too. It's what I'd hoped to begin and who better to begin the trend than one of our High Lords? I doubt anyone will think less of you for your selfishness. It was admirably framed.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 20, 2018, 8:56 p.m.(8/20/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Berenice
I have no doubt there are many who dream of you, your highness. But for the one who dreamt you first, I don't believe they would want you to be anything other than exactly as you are!
Written By Juniper
Sept. 20, 2018, 7:53 p.m.(8/20/1009 AR)
I have considered recent writings about Faith, Orthodoxy and the Thirteenth, and it's provided inspiration for my next question. It comes in two parts!
If you were granted a selfless wish and a selfish wish, what would each be?
I think for selflessness, I would wish every child born could have loving and attentive parents who are not taken from them too early. So much of the wrongs I see in the world might be solved (or at least eased!) by having that early sense of love and support which I enjoyed in my youth, and still enjoy to this day. But selfishly, guiltily, I would wish for one person who has the same passion and interest in me that I carry for others in my own heart, someone who is as fascinated by me as I am by them. There. Committed to ink for posterity's sake.
If you were granted a selfless wish and a selfish wish, what would each be?
I think for selflessness, I would wish every child born could have loving and attentive parents who are not taken from them too early. So much of the wrongs I see in the world might be solved (or at least eased!) by having that early sense of love and support which I enjoyed in my youth, and still enjoy to this day. But selfishly, guiltily, I would wish for one person who has the same passion and interest in me that I carry for others in my own heart, someone who is as fascinated by me as I am by them. There. Committed to ink for posterity's sake.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 18, 2018, 6:01 p.m.(8/16/1009 AR)
One of the things we learn as Whispers is to always have conversation starters ready in our arsenal and that nine times out of ten these shouldn’t be just passing observations or shallow inquiries. The best question is one that sincerely expresses interest in learning more about your audience. There is no person alive who won’t happily speak about themselves if asked a direct question about their thoughts and feelings (they may claim otherwise but I can promise you even the surliest curmudgeon will engage you in conversation if you show interest in them!). I believe the reason for this is because people so often do not display interest in others, at least not in ways that don’t circle back around to their own thoughts and needs. We are our own greatest fascination and it can take practice to break out from that self-focused habit. But the rewards if you do!
Here’s something I keep in my arsenal and I gift it now to the Whites and anyone interested in improving their interactions with others; others might follow according to interest.
The question:
We are all of us someone else’s dream but what does it mean to you, the phrase “living the dream”?
Keep it or answer it! Here in the archives or by messenger for I always welcome new correspondence.
Here’s something I keep in my arsenal and I gift it now to the Whites and anyone interested in improving their interactions with others; others might follow according to interest.
The question:
We are all of us someone else’s dream but what does it mean to you, the phrase “living the dream”?
Keep it or answer it! Here in the archives or by messenger for I always welcome new correspondence.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 18, 2018, 4:01 p.m.(8/16/1009 AR)
I can confirm that Dame Ida's hairpins are excellent stabbing utensils. I have the strength of an inebriated bunny and have still managed on occasion to wound myself while doing my hair. What they could do to someone when wielded by a person in love and with larger muscles than I would probably be very impressive... and they'd look good while doing it.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 16, 2018, 4:53 p.m.(8/12/1009 AR)
I am working diligently to learn not just one but two new languages! New to me, of course. I'm sure they don't feel new to those who already speak them. It certainly makes me feel less provincial to be expanding my linguistic skills. Less provincial and more an adventurer! I owe immense thanks to Sir Corban and Lord Mirk for helping me with this... and for their patience as I butcher the proper accent in my practice attempts. May the gods bless the patient people and the teachers among us.
Written By Juniper
Sept. 6, 2018, 3:35 p.m.(7/18/1009 AR)
Relationship Note on Jeffeth
Of course, when words simply will not do, the Champions are themselves excellent problem solvers, especially if you prefer a dash of spectacle along with your conflict resolution! And there are few who rival Sir Jeffeth's mastery of both problem solving and conflict resolution! It's coin well spent!
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.