the Tempest Isles was her home and with that, her whole wide world. And outside of the Isles, where Miranda lived, the story of the island and its mysterious and ethereal sorceress Prospera was legendary around of the Enchanted Forest, almost all the population in the World of Fairytales considering it nothing more than just a fairytale from sailors driven homesick with desire for solid ground underneath their feet and for the company of women - all except a small amount of people. Even the spirits of those lived in the Enchanted Forest, who we would recognise as the gods and goddesses of greek mythology, had no idea that such existence was of a truth, not a fairy story. Ruled by Prospera and her alone, the island, set upon the glittering, blue and everwild Southern Seas like a emerald gem, was a place of magic, of their wildest dreams. It was a place the sands were white and the seas were always the brightest blue and the earth was always fertile, where whole jungles were brimming with animals and flowers and life, where life was always safe. And once, it was only just a group of islands with nothing but sand when Prospera had being sent to die in the middle of the ocean with her daughter and where using her magic, Prospera had made a utopia amongst the uncharted. With magic as a protector against those with less than good intentions, Prospera did not just create a shelter for those who wanted to harm, as Miranda knew (who she was trying to hide from, Megera would never know), she created a paradise for her daughter to flourish safely and happily away from the dangers that the mainland had carried.
However, unlike what you may believe, Miranda did not grow up only in the company of her mother. As much as Prospera decided to raise her away from men, Prospera knew fine rightly that she could not grow up alone with the company of others. Which is where Prospera allowed women to the Tempest Isles a home, a shelter - for as much as Prospera understood that one day Miranda was to fall in love and make her in the world alongside with all women and men, all Prospera wanted to leave Miranda in her innocence until she was mature enough to make such decisions. And from the Tempest Islands had became a home for many. Survivors of shipwrecks were taken care of and sometimes, as the men decided to sail back home, the women were invited to remain on the island with mothers and daughters decided not to take upon the tides and instead to make the Isles their home as Prospera offered. The sea caves were one of few that were considered safe for mermaids, for the Imperial Court of the Seas, to host their meetings and their singing and celebrations; the sea-salted winds carrying the enthralling songs of the mermaids and the selkies underneath full and crescent moons for all of the people to hear and croon little Miranda to sleep. Nymphs lived within the flowers and the trees and rivers, laughing and playing with wild abandon. And because of their kindness in difficult times, Prospera opened her home to the Amazon warriors, who used the island for many things. Upon ships, Miranda and Prospera would welcome Amazon women who came to the island all for different and yet similar purposes. The elderly came to spend the rest of their living in paradise, after years of battles and war, as a reward. Pregnant Amazons came to bear their children in comfort, either future daughters that would go in their peoples places as legendary fighters or sons that would go amicably back to their fathers and visited to every year. The dying came with their families and were personally greeted by Prospera, women dying from illness or injury or simply from age sent so they could live the rest of their days in comfort and amongst the closest place the Amazons considered close to heaven. The injured, after nearly having spent themselves in battle, came to heal, sometimes physically, sometimes mentally. Daughters or mothers, Prospera welcomed them all. And from there, little Miranda would never grow up alone. Women would rule the island with men as their loving husbands, their friends but women the rulers, the queens of the island.
And never she did. Growing up, Miranda was brought up surrounded by mothers and daughters, knowing the nymphs as her friends and playmates, the mermaids as her lullaby songstresses, the Amazons her teachers and protectors, growing up never doubting in herself. Ariadne, the fallen princess of King Minos, seer and Prospera’s friend after being carelessly abandoned by the explorer Theseus, was Miranda’s nanny while Prospera took time to rule over those within the Tempest Isles and as Miranda grew up, Ariadne’s role as a nanny grew into that of a confidante and guide. All while Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons who frequently came to visit Miranda’s mother, acted as her source to the world beyond the island. Hippolyta shown Miranda the way of the Amazons, how they defied their kingdom’s roles as mere chattel and submissive child-bearers and took on the roles of warriors and strategists and scholars and rulers, the roles that their original kingdom of Greece, that their fathers and husbands, thought would be roles impossible for women. Miranda knew how the Amazons treasured the virtues of independence, loyalty and bravery above all else, how they fought battles against thousands with only hundreds and still won at the end of the day. She knew the fact that it was common for Amazons to take on lovers, men whom some they loved for years on end and had many children with and yet never married, not out of blind hatred for men, but because of out of defiance, to not be lowered as someones property, to keep their independence - in where Hippolyta and many of the Amazons came from, marriage was not a rite of love as it was here in the Tempest Isles and in a few kingdoms, but a contract to property, to a woman’s will. The Amazons gave Miranda her own sense of independence, of pride. She wore her dresses of knee high height and played in their sports, hugged Hippolyta and cried when she left, begging to come along with her and wondering, just wondering, what lay beyond the crystal-blue horizon as the ships sailed away.
With Ariadne as her best friend and her confidante, Hippolyta her teacher and role-model and Prospera as her loving mother, Miranda lived nothing less than that of a charmed life within the island, sheltered from all dangers and evils that could have hurt little Miranda. Not that she didn’t know what lay beyond the Tempest - she didn’t grow up believing that the whole world was that of the Tempest. She heard from her best friend’s mothers, from the mermaids, from the Amazons - she knew of the shipwrecks, of which carried men. She remembered most of them being kind, the little boys teasing her and their fathers smiling and giving her little trinkets but all kept their distance, all of them watched by Prospera with a watchful eye. And Miranda knew that she was to fall in love. The mermaids sang of it, the women talked and giggled about it and Miranda always asked questions about who her father was. All that Miranda knew was that Prospera loved her father and he loved her and from that love came Miranda. All that Miranda knew was somehow, her father was gone. Maybe that was why her mother always wanted to be at the side of the dying at their time of their soul passing. But Prospera, as much as she desired nothing but to keep Miranda safe upon the island, Prospera had always known that Miranda will find love and must find her way within the world - but she could always influence how it comes about, to always being a protective force for Miranda where ever she goes. But why her mother so desperately wants to keep her away from the outside world, Miranda did not know.
Hippolyta was the Queen of the Amazons; women who d. Hippolyta herself was in love with a man. This man she met as a young woman who recently took her vows as a Amazon warrior and as Queen Otrere’s heir, the past Amazon Queen and Hippolyta’s mother. A mere merchant with a strong and kind heart, the pair were so enraptured with each other that from love at first sight, they made love within the warm nights that they shared together and from that lovemaking of passion and romance once seen as weak by the Amazons of old, did Queen Hippolyta’s eldest daughter, Penthesilea, come into the world. She dearly loved him, gods she loved him even through she would not marry him. But love within the Amazons was seen as weakness, a feminine whimsy that placed them under the will of men, the very thing they were trying to destroy. Hippolyta, on the other hand, saw it as a strength - while she agreed that the Amazons should not marry, as an act of defiance against their realm, she believed that women should be allowed to love, to be apart of their children’s lives be they male or female, have opportunities beyond that of warriors, to embrace their femininity and their sexualities instead of opressing it. Is their femininity, their sexuality, their desire for love the very things that the men of Greece tried to shame? Which is why upon Otrene’s death, Hippolyta allowed women to have lovers, while not allowing marriage, and to have contact with their male children in able to establish strong ties with men and gain allies and good standing with the people. The husbands and sons and brothers and friends, raised to see their sisters and mothers and women as their equals, became allies to the Amazons. Many a Amazonian woman would have a lover who she would love for her whole lifetime and regard much like how a wife would love her husband. And Hippolyta would love Oliver her whole lifetime and have many sons and daughters that she loved.
Persephone would gladly allow Oliver and that of the lovers of the Amazonians to stay on the island and raise their young sons under vow of secercy about the island - the Tempest Island becoming a popular place for Amazonian women to visit their partners, to concieve their children, Persephone secretly lending out tips on the matters of love to young lovers with a glitter in her eye. And from there, Persephone, who embraced herself as Prospera, the Tempest Island’s enchantress and ruler, would raise her and Hade’s daughter, Miranda. Having being turned from a immortal to a mortal girl, Persephone was certain that Miranda would be able to live a carefree and safe life. A life of love and lullabies and cuddles and games, a life where Miranda was validated, where she was loved, protected and not controlled. Within the Trojan war that Hippolyta was leading
Nancy Andersen,
Serafina’s paternal grandmother, is a woman not easily put into the box.
She’s someone who owns a small art gallery in the heart of Dublin, who’s
has clay or dye always underneath the moons of her fingernails, from
hours spent in her ceramics studio, moulding wet earth into faces or
people or creatures or scenes from stories with her hands. Nancy, her
white hair wild and eyes a mischievous shade of blue, who wears a
medal of St. Catherine of Bologna yet only went to church around five
years ago and has a fear of nuns and distrust of priests. Nancy, who
loved picking blackberries to make into blackberry pie, Nancy who
knew how to ride a horse and helped operate a farm in Tennessee
and keep a town afloat and on the map because of it, Nancy who still
volunteered to help assist in yoga lessons to keep herself from being
bedridden with age, Nancy who danced around the room when she
heard about same-sex marriage being finalised and helped form a
wedding reception for her neighbors to return to in the same day; cake,
music, dancing, alchol and all the works in the matter of three hours.
And with it, she has easily an interesting story.
Once known as Eugenie Bell, she was someone who came from a
background opposite of the class her husband Fitz came from; upper-
middle class British young girl, daughter to Eugene Bell; a professor of
anthropology who was a prominent member of the British Eugenics
Society, determined to cleanse Britain of corruption of the gene pool
and someone who had enough power in the world of academics to hold
back any contempt for the oppressed Irish Catholics of Northern Ireland,
the mentally ill, the gypsies (not caring to call them Rromani) or the
Jewish people; people he believed were behind destroying the purity of
the gene pool. A man found his daughter good enough to share in his
name, seeing she was strong enough to survive when her twin brother
did not.
Hence Eugenie’s fall from grace,
when Eugenie had dared to fall in love with the Irish son of a scribe,
a boy called Darcy. A boy, him being 16 and her 13, who after a night
that Eugenie regretted, caught up in her innocence to realise what
was to happen, was a boy who had gotten Eugenie pregnant by
accident. All Eugenie remembered from the incident, when her
father found out, was her father beating her with the poker he
snatched from the fireplace, screaming for Eugenie to go to her room
and for her mother to pack her things; a scar down her collar bone
acting as a physical reminder for what had happened. The next day,
she was shaken awake by the maid; apparently, she was to leave as
soon as possible with a small suitcase packed in the car, no time for
breakfast. Presumbly, in her mind, to go her aunt’s place or to some
mother-and-baby house away from London.
She didn’t expect it,
to be the last time she saw her mother or older brother.
She didn’t expect her father to take her on a two-hour
long train ride from London to Liverpool then onto a
ferry ride that lasted for eight hours; hours he spent
without talking a word to his 13-year-old daughter. She
didn’t expect to be put into a asylum for penitent
women, unmarried girls who found themselves pregnant
or committed petty crimes, a place run by nuns with
cold eyes mismatched to their sweet voices. How was
she to know the last time she was to see her father, was
when he was walking out the gates while she cried and
was held back by the nuns, her father not even looking
back once. All she knew was that she was now to live
in the Ulster Magdalene Asylum and she had nothing
but the child growing in her belly for a family.
What happened in the Ulster Magdalene Asylum,
is a subject that to this day brings tears to Nancy’s eyes, a subject very
rarely talked about in the house. What happened in the asylum was that
from 1936 to 1937, Eugenie worked alongside with 3,000 other women
in the laundry that acted as the source of income in the magdalene
asylum, for two years. For two years, Eugenie and the woman around
her were emotionally and physically abused by the sisters; one sister
dipping her hands into scalding water, leaving her with glove burns still
there, hands rough and with lowered sense of touch. In those two years,
Eugenie gave birth to a little girl; a child called Imogen, a child she gave
birth to at age 13, giving birth after hours in agony after the nuns refused
to provide painkillers, hours that almost killed her. In those two years,
Eugenie was sexually abused by a priest over multiple times. In 1937,
Imogen was adopted by a couple living in America. She had to be pulled
away from her mother’s arms, trying to delay the impossible. In 1937, it
was the last time she saw her daughter. And in 1937, after several
unsuccessful attempts to escape, Eugenie was able to escape the
Ulster Magdalene Asylum and catch a train to Dublin, after taking money
out of the nun’s treasury.
Only,
for four years, without money or a job or a home and far away from Britain,
14-year-old Eugenie found herself homeless. From 1938 to 1941, Eugenie
lived on the streets of Dublin, trying to find things to do to earn money;
selling cigarettes, begging on the streets and on the rare occasion,
pickpocketing. For four years, Eugenie slept in doorsteps or in alleyways,
ran from police officers, hid from pimps, outgrew her shoes, went for
weeks without food and almost died in the cold. Then the bombs dropped
in North Strand. Eugenie was sleeping in a silent street by a streetlight
when she felt the ground shake underneath her body, smelt the ashes,
looked up and seen the flames licking the sky. Germans were bombing
Dublin, everyone running and Eugenie desperate to find shelter. Only to
finding herself helping to get a truck off a young man, one that crashed
unto him when the driver jumped out of the car. That same man was
Fitz-Finian Andersen; a fifteen-year old who wanted to join the army,
who fought other boys to win comic books and played Captain America
on the streets and who brought Eugenie back with him to Belfast, all to
be taken care of by his aunt Eilis.
Dr. Serafina Cordelia Singer-Andersen; one of the leading experts in both computer science and nursing
Detective Jayashiri Khalsa; however, it’s the years she spent as a pilot within the U.S airforces
Farhah Parva; freida pinto. 30 years old. fashion designer.
Adelaide ‘Ada’ Marthas: easily the youngest interface computer-mind interface to the Machine, being only 28 years old to the other womens’ 30′s, Ada
Chlöe Paige;
Zhèng Qiao;
Dionisia Avilés do Rosário;
Dr. Ofelia Tsarfati Esperanza
Renate Dodgson;
Issac-Aarav Khalsa - dev patel; the brother to Jayashri Khalsa,
Renaldo Echevarría Abaroa - The only reason he went to seek shelter to the US was when
Giovanni Perceval - will graham;
Bernard - jesse williams;
Tatiana Konstantineva Valerieva - rosamund pike; a young girl who once lived amongst the poverty of Bulgaria, helping her mother raise her infant brother and two little sisters, raised in the eastern orthodox church and hoping she could become a social worker. Only for her mother’s trust to be betrayed when tatiana has being smuggled to the usa and into sex trafficking, her childhood destroyed at age 14 when her mother was made to believe tatiana was to be go aboard and receive good education. Only for her suffering to end at age 20, after six years of rape and being infected with HIV somewhere in those years, the police raiding the brothel and Tatiana brought to the attentive care of Dr. Ramona
Esmeraude Giordano - zoe saldana; 39 years old, French-Canadian. For Esmeraude, it was Project Iris, the interface between her consciousness and to Samaritan that tore apart her world - but at the same time, created it. It was the neural device in her head that, by chance, telepathically connected her to Gerald Giordano when she was 20-year-old dancer in Montreal and he was a young American man studying Philosophy in Cambridge - even through they were 3,234 miles away. The same man who she fell in love with communicating through the neural device for two years and getting engaged when they physically meet for the first time at the Monteral terminal. It was realising their daughter, Cherise, had being implanted that they decided to try and expose Decima Technologies by gathering other subjects and planning on releasing their accounts and evidence to international authorities. And it Samaritan coming online that had all of the interviewees killed, Cherise kidnapped in front of her and Gerald
Sabrina - ginnifer goodwin; unknown to Renate, Sabrina is agent of Decima Technologies - and the agent spying on Renate and report back to Greer if Renate Dodgson was a Irisian. What Sabrina did not expect was for acted attention to blossom into genuine love; knowing Renate would be lobotomised if she was reported, Sabrina lied to Decima yet still continued on as
Lillai Shriver;
Chai Hye-jin In - yoon eun-hye; 26 years old; employed as both Qiao’s executive assistant and as her personal assistant to helping to ease Qiao’s CFS/ME, Hey-jin’s simply a young woman homesick for her home in Gyeongju City, 548 miles, a whole ocean away from her ailing father and her two other sisters and to who she gives half her pay to.
Zipporah Becker; natalie portman. 22 years old. cook
Justin Paige;
Weiss
As with every person on this earth, they all came from a meeting between a man and a woman - whether it was a love story, an event better left forgotten, a relationship of many years or simply just one night, it does not matter. And in this example, before Ofelia Tsarfati Esperanza was born, Dr. Ramona Esperanza Oleastro and Salvadore Tsarfati Rouxinol meet with a common mission - to find their lost ones. Both lived in Mexico City, the pair were employees to the International Justice Mission. Ramona was a psychologist, a woman born from a family of weavers trapped in the extreme poverty of the city of Chiapas, who fought to become a psychologist and aid victims of sex trafficking - all after her mother was believed to be trafficked, having being accepted to become a nanny to a family that never existed in London, her mother believing she would earn more money to care for her family. Salvadore was a liaison officer between the Mexican City Police Department and the International Justice Mission; a man lead by his Jewish faith to gain justice for his sister’s death, having went missing after she was kidnapped at age 13 and reappearing as a prostitute dead in a alley at age 21. Salvadore was one of the lead investigators for Dolores Oleastro Iñíguez, the pair meeting over that case and a mass crackdown on a illegal trafficking ring in Guadalajara. Over the time they came to know each other, they saw kindred spirits in each other; focused, driven, compassionate, filled with the need to gain justice not only for themselves and their families but for all victims.
It was why, after several months of meetings to discuss psychological profiles and leads and Salvadore requesting Ramona’s help in interviewing survivors, Salvadore invited Ramona to have lunch with him at his favourite cafe. After two months of light and happy conversation and philosophical thought being passed over empanadas, rancheros and quesadillas, they met over date nights where Ramona poured over dresses and Salvadore had multiple dances with death after he almost burnt down his apartment and with it, his beloved cat. It was the fifth date when they had their first kiss; the taste of sweet almonds still lively in Ramona’s mouth after they kissed on the shadows and walked down the cobbled streets for Salvadore to walk her back home. Every time Salvadore went on a dangerous mission to arrest a trafficker or crackdown o a brothel, Ramona would find her fingers tight around the medallion hanging around her neck and a prayer for safety on her lips. Every time Salvadore performed his bedtime shema, he could only find how how different his life would be without Ramona in it. Every time that Salvadore sang, Ramona swore he had a voice that would silence all the birds so they could listen and learn. Every time Salvadore looked at Ramona, he could only pray that he could in her eyes for the rest of his life. And it was only after seven years, Salvadore realised that he wanted to spend the rest of his life on earth with her - even if her faith was aligned with the Roman Catholic Church and his belief was within the Modern Orthodox Jewish faith. Hence why in 1979, Ramona and Salvadore were happily married with Salvadore thirty-two and Ramona twenty-eight. But with Salvadore exiled from his family and his Jewish community for marrying a gentile woman - yet determined to raise his children, with his loved wife’s help, in the Jewish faith without forcing them to believe.
By the time Ramona found out what happened to her mother, Dolores Oleastro Iñíguez having went missing when Ramona was just six years old and found after twenty-two years disappearance, Ramona and Salvadore had three children - Isaias being born in 1980, Nestor in 1985 and with Ofelia the middle child and only daughter, born in 1983. And for Ofelia, she could remember having nothing but fond and happy memories of her childhood in Mexico. Living in a four bedroom studio in the neighbourhood of La Condesa, where sunlight always found a way to stream through all the windows in that studio, she could remember many things about Mexico before she moved away; waking up with morning light dancing in her eyes through the curtains, the smell of cooking beans and chile with tortillas beckoning her to the kitchen; playing in the terrace with her brightly-coloured toys or reading in the patio amongst the potted plants that climbed up the walls and made a jungle in her backyard; the streets filled with music and the chatter of French and Spanish where she explored the streets on her bicycle with the gaggle of other neighbourhood girls and boys. Knowing all too well how terrible the world outside their house was, Salvadore and Ramona did everything they could to protect their three children, protective to a degree that could almost be considered overprotectiveness. And with the memories of her childhood, came the memories of being raised in a interfaith household. Her mother holding her, Ofelia looking up and seeing the light glint on the medallion of Saint Anne, hanging around her neck. Hearing her father saying the bedtime shema in Hebrew and her mother murmuring her evening prayers in Spanish. Wondering why her mother didn’t have a Hebrew name (like her father’s Hoshe'a, or Nestor’s Nisim or her own Elisheva) or attend the Ramat Shalom Synagogue that took half-an-hour to drive to or celebrated Yom Kippur.
Hence the big surprise. By the time Ofelia was eight years old, Isaias was eleven and Nestor only six, Ramona and Salvadore
ACTIVITIES
Girl Scouts • U.S Naval Sea Cadets • Ballet classes • Model Congress • Tech Club • Swimming practice
MONDAY
Trinity School (8.00 AM to 4.00 PM)
→ 30 W 85th St, New York, NY 10024, USA - Trinity School, West 91st Street, NYC, NY,
USA (10 bicycle walk - wake up at 7.20, start walking at 7.40, arrive at 7.50)
Girl Scouts (4.30 PM to 5.30 PM)
→ Trinity School, West 91st Street, NYC, NY, USA - Girl Scout Council of Greater New
York, 40 Wall Street #708, New York, NY 10005, United States (7 minute walk to 96th
Subway Station, 20 minute train ride to Wall St Subway Station, 1 minute walk to
the Girl Scouts Council - 4.01 PM to 4.28 PM )
Home (4.30 PM to —-)
→ Girl Scout Council of Greater New York, 40 Wall Street #708, New York, NY 10005,
United States - 30 W 85th St, New York, NY 10024, USA (6 minute walk to Fulton St
Subway Street, 22 minute train ride to 86th Subway Station, 3 minute walk back
to home at 30 W 85th St - 4.30 PM to 5.06 PM)
TUESDAY
Trinity Swimming practice (7.00 AM to 8.00 AM)
→ 30 W 85th St, New York, NY 10024, USA - 101 W 91st St, New York, NY 10024,
USA (9 bicycle ride - wake up at 6.30 AM, bicycle to Trinity School swimming
pool around 6.50 AM) k
Trinity School (8.00 AM to 4.00 PM)
→ 101 W 91st St, New York, NY 10024, USA - Trinity School, West 91st Street, NYC, NY,
USA (1 minute walk - wake up at 7.20, start walking at 7.40, arrive at 7.50)
Ballet class (4.30 PM to 5.30 PM)
→ Trinity School, West 91st Street, NYC, NY, USA - Ballet Academy East, 1651 3rd
Avenue, New York, NY 10128, United States (17 minute bicycle ride - 4.05 PM to
4.22 PM)
I’m archiving ahavahisms ! ! ! This will be, sadly, the last posts that are made on ahavahisms. I have being blogging on this blog for over two years, since 2014. Amazing, huh? And over 500 followers? <3 However, good news, I am simply moving to another blog - I have not abandoned Seraphina at all (I am actually sincerely considering professionally publishing her - have to think more about it!) but just continuing her story on another blog! The blog in question? @ofseraphic, the new Seraphina Singer-Andersen blog! Go and follow me there darlings! Love you all very much and I will see you all over there. <3
I’m archiving ahavahisms ! ! ! This will be, sadly, the last posts that are made on ahavahisms. I have being blogging on this blog for over two years, since 2014. Amazing, huh? And over 500 followers? <3 However, good news, I am simply moving to another blog - I have not abandoned Seraphina at all (I am actually sincerely considering professionally publishing her - have to think more about it!) but just continuing her story on another blog! The blog in question? @ofseraphic, the new Seraphina Singer-Andersen blog! Go and follow me there darlings! Love you all very much and I will see you all over there. <3
I’m archiving ahavahisms ! ! ! This will be, sadly, the last posts that are made on ahavahisms. I have being blogging on this blog for over two years, since 2014. Amazing, huh? And over 500 followers? <3 However, good news, I am simply moving to another blog - I have not abandoned Seraphina at all (I am actually sincerely considering professionally publishing her - have to think more about it!) but just continuing her story on another blog! The blog in question? @ofseraphic, the new Seraphina Singer-Andersen blog! Go and follow me there darlings! Love you all very much and I will see you all over there. <3
I’m archiving ahavahisms ! ! ! This will be, sadly, the last posts that are made on ahavahisms. I have being blogging on this blog for over two years, since 2014. Amazing, huh? And over 500 followers? <3 However, good news, I am simply moving to another blog - I have not abandoned Seraphina at all (I am actually sincerely considering professionally publishing her - have to think more about it!) but just continuing her story on another blog! The blog in question? @ofseraphic, the new Seraphina Singer-Andersen blog! Go and follow me there darlings! Love you all very much and I will see you all over there. <3
I’m archiving ahavahisms ! ! ! This will be, sadly, the last posts that are made on ahavahisms. I have being blogging on this blog for over two years, since 2014. Amazing, huh? And over 500 followers? <3 However, good news, I am simply moving to another blog - I have not abandoned Seraphina at all (I am actually sincerely considering professionally publishing her - have to think more about it!) but just continuing her story on another blog! The blog in question? @ofseraphic, the new Seraphina Singer-Andersen blog! Go and follow me there darlings! Love you all very much and I will see you all over there. <3