poppyseed
freckles pepper the bridge of her nose, spraying across flushed cheeks. carrot-top curls and eyes that are pale river blue — her laughter is sunlit, her words bubbling. she is a quarter of an inch too small, and her feet never quite touch the ground when she sits down for tea.
ivory
she's cream-coloured, blue-eyed, smooth-skinned, with fingers that are long and worn with battle scars from iron nails and foreign things. copper cuts line the edges of her thumbs. calm when undisturbed, quiet, sincere, thinking. flame always licks her insides, glows red through the cracks in the pillar.
braveheart
a voice that is shaky and sweet and stained by the sea, light light hair that flows smoother than havendish stream in the summer. let not her weepy demeanor fool you: she is braver than us all, having twice sacrificed herself and all she's ever known without hope of compensation. she is the warrior here, the resilient; she will fly higher, fight harder, and still love the most.
starcatcher
he glitters. it's because he spends all his time catching stars, and the dust clings to him like an old friend; he welcomes the gold gladly, and shines in the sun. but he wears his heart on his sleeve and everyone knows his love is hopeless: it has been since a faraway boy stole a thimble from a long-ago girl.
revered
short brown hair and sensible shoes. regal, proper, prim. royalty runs through her veins; she was born from the laugh of a princess, and destined to be a queen. she keeps up appearances but she makes mistakes — don't have too much faith, fairies. remember that she still sleeps with her crown on her bedside table.
venom
her words drip with honey and poison. darling. everyone knows she's faking but they don't know why or how or because of whom — and they don't know, they'll never know, just how much hurt lies behind her bitter laughter. no one's ever met her eyes. oh, faster than fast: and her fingers are bleeding.