ash begets fire, a name begets haoxuan. don't call Him anything else.
fire blazes across a town, ravaging all held within. out of the ash arises not a girl, not an angel, but a murder. he looks at his hands; he almost wishes he wasn't a coward.
religion, religious trauma, abusive parents, internalised... like everything.
A FEATHER FLOATS UNTO THE FLAME, FURTHER FALLING…
| name | haoxuan papadopoulos. |
| age | 19. |
| gender | transmasculine, they/he. |
| orientation | gay and poly... though he only knows the former. |
| nationality & ethnicity | american, greco-chinese. |
| species | avian; 1/4th solia through his mother. |
| element & pathway | fire & emberseeker. |
| year | fourth. |
| date of birth | august 1st. |
:P placeholder
A breath fogs the air in front of his face, and he’s staring.
The world is white. It’s different, to the town that they grew up in—different from the scorching winds, dry deserts, open skies. Trees that are coated in green, and then white, crowd around him, like firegoers at a bonfire; but there’s no pressure to perform, no need to spin and twirl. The snow falls down onto his skin—it melts basically immediately, as does how their steps through the water melt a path, but they can feel their wings getting slowly damp with water that didn’t quite reach the root.
They blink, tarnished gold eyes lighting among the backdrop, wings a black soot stain against the white landscape. They realise it then: this is what cold is supposed to feel like. Unlike back home, where cold meant a burst of pressure, an act to burden his shoulders, the roots of their wings, here it was freedom. A breath of fresh, almost minty, biting air. The trees have no need for Her to perform their spinning dances, twirls and scuffs across the floor, for She can simply fade into the back of the set and let Him breathe.
He takes a step forward, hears the crunch of the snow underfoot, and takes in how the snow reflects the sky.