paladinquest

[paladinquest]

yes

lark’s very professional rating of different weapons he has had to use:

sword: classic. he feels the most comfortable with this. his sword is an extension of his arm, of him, and this is where he focuses most of his practice. 10/10

bow and arrow: pretty good! he doesn’t prefer long ranged fighting most of the time, but he’s reasonably skilled at it, and hunting with it helps clear his mind. 6/10

lances/polearms/halberds: overall these are okay, but he doesn’t particularly like jousting. don’t let the other knights know. 4/10

axe/hammer: similar feelings about both of these. heavy object go woosh. 8/10

flail weapon: lark caused an… accident. no one in the castle speaks of it. 0/10

#call of the herald (ooc) #court jester (crack) #{ dreamingofmuses } #(i RUSHED to do this 😂)

[paladinquest]

lark’s very professional rating of different weapons he has had to use:

sword: classic. he feels the most comfortable with this. his sword is an extension of his arm, of him, and this is where he focuses most of his practice. 10/10

bow and arrow: pretty good! he doesn’t prefer long ranged fighting most of the time, but he’s reasonably skilled at it, and hunting with it helps clear his mind. 6/10

lances/polearms/halberds: overall these are okay, but he doesn’t particularly like jousting. don’t let the other knights know. 4/10

axe/hammer: similar feelings about both of these. heavy object go woosh. 8/10

flail weapon: lark caused an… accident. no one in the castle speaks of it. 0/10

#call of the herald (ooc) #living legends (headcanons) #(getting back into the swing of headcanons with swinging. literally. he’s swinging weapons >:D) #(this is mostly a ‘how he feels about it’ rather than a ‘what is his objective skill level’) #(he might love axes but not be spectacular with them pfft)

[paladinquest]

tag rehaul: medieval edition!

#a message from the liege (asks) #tales from the castle (thread) #woven tapestries and stained glass (aes) #admire the craftsmanship (art) #court jester (crack) #trading stories in the mead hall (musings) #the scribe's manuscript (drabble) #jousting competition (rp meme) #sit by the fire for a spell (queue) #it says so on the scroll (dash commentary) #i can shout the loudest (ic ; lark) #call of the herald (ooc) #living legends (headcanons) #lend me your wisdom (insp) #it is a knight's duty [v: the soldier] #sheath the blade [v: the hidden] #destiny calls you home [v: the returned] #it is written in the stars [v: i.swm] #that is the happy trails way [v: a.hwm]

[paladinquest]

Later. The idea that there might be a later, that Lark can have a future at all, isn’t truly developed in his mind. He doesn’t pry for details on what happened, yet — Atlas has extended the same courtesy to him.

He scratches the withers of his horse gently, then blinks, looking almost guilty at the question. “Uh, no, this… was my rest. How far out are we?”

The kingdom’s borders must be behind him, but how long has he been riding? How far has he gone? It feels like it’s been minutes since the attack. He has no plan of where to go, where to stay…

… But Atlas is here with an offer of safety. There’s no room for Lark to protest, anymore, and there’s relief in his shoulders as he nods.

“Thank you. I’m sure Chica will make a great roommate.” He cracks a small smile for the first time. It feels weak. It only takes a few steps for him to join Atlas — and Chica, whose tail is practically thrashing. He has the room. The supplies. The experience with this place. “Is this… where you’ve been the whole time?” Only ever a ride away?

… Right. The realization settles in that Lark still doesn’t know. “ I’ll… tell you later. When we’re somewhere more private. ” Not that the woods is particularly bustling with activity, but one can never know.

The accident. He never explained the accident to Lark. It weighs on Atlas’ shoulders, knowing that Lark has gone so long without knowing… but it was for his safety. Now that he seems to be no longer with his kingdom (something Atlas fears to know the explanation for), though… perhaps Atlas can dare to explain.

“ You… rode ? By yourself ? All the way here ? ” Something is certainly wrong, then. What is Lark running from ? “ Have you rested ? At all ? ”

He’s relieved, far more than usual, that the travel back to his home isn’t far. A few minutes’ walk, at most. He and Chica usually took a more circular path for their walk— but for this, the path directly back would be taken.

“ … You’ll be staying with me. ” It isn’t an offer that Lark can try to politely deny, if he’d even attempt to. A statement, without bothering to ask. Atlas knows he needs it, and maybe a statement will be easier on his pride than a question. “ I have the room, and the supplies. Chica will surely like having a roommate. It isn’t much farther. Chica and I take walks this way on most days. ”

#tales from the castle: thread #{ unlikely brother and dearest friend } atlas / mark | calledstars #calledstars #verse: sheath the blade #{ fluffy protector } chica #(emotional!!!) #(they can finally talk 😭)

[paladinquest]

Chivalrous hand kissing but with a big “muah” noise

#trading stories in the mead hall: musings #sit by the fire for a spell: queue

[paladinquest]

He scratches behind Chica’s ears, but it’s absent minded. As much as Lark is happy to see her — to see both of them — it’s a shock he can barely comprehend. A relief that threatens to knock him off his feet. Atlas is alive and… well? He’s not sure about well. But with the day he’s had, it’s all another squeeze to his sore heart.

“Endanger?” What? “Why— why would it have endangered me? Were you in danger? Are you still in danger?” He wants to help! He doesn’t know if he can. Lark shifts in place at the offer, uncertain for a moment. It hardly lasts long enough for him to protest.

This is Atlas. He trusts him. Even Chica seems to be compelling him to follow, and he finally feels some semblance of safety at the normalcy.

It’s time to go home. Where is home, anymore?

“I rode.” Exhaustion isn’t something he can keep out of his voice. He gives Atlas a sign to wait a moment, and then goes to fetch his horse from the stream, leading her back by the reins. “I didn’t know where to go. I was just trying to get away.”

The realization, the sudden standing, startles Atlas to the point of taking a stuttered step back. Chica seems to only be thrown off for a moment, already back to nuzzling and sniffing against Lark’s legs. The thought to tell Chica to refrain from knocking Lark over comes to mind, but he can’t manage to get the words out when faced with the knowledge that Lark is there at all.

He looked for him. He looked for him ? “ I wanted to, so badly — I wanted to tell you I was alive, but I couldn’t, I didn’t want to endanger you … ” Atlas explains, rushed and without thought … before the surprised response shifts to concern. “ … but it looks like you already have been. Come on. ”

“ Chica, ” he calls with a whistle and a click, to which Chica returns to being at his heel. She barks back at Lark, as if also asking he follow. Friend ! Come with ! Join ! Go home time !

It’s time to go home.

“ How did you get all the way out here ? ” Atlas asks, more questions on his tongue but managing to refrain. He’s already made more commotion than he’d made in a long time— and he doesn’t want to push himself or Lark.

#tales from the castle: thread #{ unlikely brother and dearest friend } atlas / mark | calledstars #calledstars #verse: sheath the blade #{ fluffy protector } chica #(?? crying??)

[paladinquest]

Kit might not see it, but Lark understands how important his life is. How much more important. Who would he be to question it? He may be of noble blood, but he is a knight — not a prince. And so, he’ll protect them at all costs.

It doesn’t make their friendship less real, however, in Lark’s eyes. Especially as he smiles over at Kit, both of them with their hands placed on the humming crystals.

“It feels… strange.” Almost as if the current connects them to the rocks and to each other all at once. Mixed elation and distrust wells in his chest. “We truly found something, my liege. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”

Their worlds are so different … and yet, in a way, they are very similar. So closely entwined, yet kept so distant. Kit has never been fond of how his title pushes him away from others. Makes him different. Is it so wrong, to long to be seen as one of them ? To not be seen as worth more or less, because of his birth ?

He is thankful for what he has, he supposes. Some time with Lark is better than none. With Lark, he feels freer. Safer.

“ Hm. ” A hum of curiosity … and Kit places his whole hand against one of the flatter crystals, then his other hand against another crystal a few seconds later. A buzzing feeling sent up his arm seemed to travel through to the other, like a current created by the crystals. How fascinating !

#tales from the castle: thread #{ chasing rabbits in bejewelled crowns } kit | rabbitfled #rabbitfled #verse: it is a knight's duty #(kit’s tools for stressing lark out include zoomies and too much curiosity about magic 😂)

[paladinquest]

040. a dusty antiques shop full of relics . // …. but the “shop” is just atlas’ place ( @calledstars )

drabble prompts!

-

For a moment after Chica covers Lark’s face in slobber, rousing him from his sleep, he’s convinced he’s right back home. Maybe he and Atlas retreated to their kingdom over night — their parents would be furious when they found out, but neither of them would care. He reaches out to pet the dog’s fur, but when he opens his eyes, he doesn’t see their childhood “kingdom”.

Oh. Of course. They’ve both long since left childhood behind, and this is Atlas’ hideaway.

Living here is taking some adjustment, as much as Lark is grateful to his brother for letting him stay. It’s strange to see him again. It’s strange to see him surrounded by all this magic. Strange, and still a little unnerving, he must admit.

He’s wondered why he never told him. He wonders whether that unnerved feeling would have only confirmed Atlas’ fears.

Lark slowly sits up, trying not to disturb Atlas as he works on the other side of the room. There are various trinkets and supplies sitting around that he can’t even begin to understand. Magic pouring out of every corner, star decorations littering every surface. Atlas is absorbed in work on one of his inventions. He watches him, for a moment — but then his eyes drift to his scars, and he has to look away.

If he had been there for Atlas, maybe he could have helped. Or maybe he could have been there in the aftermath, like Atlas had done for him when Lark needed it most. Lost alone in the forest.

He may not trust his ability to wield a sword, but he will protect him in turn. He’ll be there for Atlas. Because maybe he is right back home.

#a message from the liege: asks #the scribe's manuscript: drabble #{ unlikely brother and dearest friend } atlas / mark | calledstars #calledstars #verse: sheath the blade #(i’m picturing lark in like. a cot in the same main room but i’m not sure how big atlas’ place would be pfft) #(but look at them!! the siblings!!!)

[paladinquest]

032. a quiet hospital room . // sw!atlas maybe ?? @calledstars !

drabble prompts!

-

Quiet beeps fill the room, acting as the only reassurance that Atlas still lives, besides the slow rise and fall of his chest. Beep. Beep. Beep. The hospital feels solemn, with only the occasional droid coming to check in on his vitals. Lark hates it. Hates all of it.

He just wants his brother back.

The beeping and his breathing are the only signs on the surface, anyway. He can feel Atlas’ life through the Force — weak, but fighting. He would know if he had passed away. Lark hasn’t stopped holding his hand since he was removed from the Bacta tank. He’s barely even slept, as if he’s the only thing standing between Atlas and the darkness.

Please. Please be okay. He thinks he sees a twitch in Atlas’ face, and he leans forward quickly, only to sit back in disappointment. A sigh. A squeeze of the hand.

There’s so much uncertainty that lies ahead. Will the J.edi Order renounce Lark, when it becomes clear he’s gotten far too attached? Or worse — will they order him not to make contact with him, or Harper, ever again? The thought makes him feel more sick than it once would have.

And what will become of Atlas? Has he truly achieved his freedom? The scars littering his body will remain, the doctors said. A permanent physical reminder of what he did. If he fully regains his mind, the guilt will be… disastrous.

But Lark will be there. He’s determined to be there. He’ll have to be torn from his side by force. He can teach him how to control it, and maybe…

Atlas’ voices carries weakly over to him, calling his name in a soft question. Lark looks up, and sees his eyes open, however blearily. No yellow. His heart leaps into his throat.

“Atlas!” Disregarding the advice of the droids, he reaches over to wrap him in a tight hug. He’s okay. He’s okay.

And they’re going to do everything they can to help him stay that way.

#a message from the liege: asks #the scribe's manuscript: drabble #{ unlikely brother and dearest friend } atlas / mark | calledstars #calledstars #verse: i have a bad feeling about this #(i’m?? emotional over them???) #hospital cw #hospital tw

[paladinquest]

049. a garden bountiful with flowers or produce . // @rabbitfled !

drabble prompts!

-

Finding a rabbit in a garden is a difficulty Lark had never expected to deal with. He’s a knight, not a gardener or a wrangler. But when the rabbit happens to be a prince, it changes things somewhat.

“Kit? Kit! I mean— Your Highness, you didn’t tell me you planned on playing hide and seek.”

The royal garden is truly a beautiful place. Kit often requests they go there; sometimes just to lie beneath one of the great trees that overlooks the flower beds. It’s pleasant. Peaceful. But maybe it had been Lark’s own fault for falling asleep on the job.

He doesn’t get a verbal response from Kit. Instead, he sees a flash of brown fur bolt by, diving from one bush to another before he can grab him.

If they were in human form, he’s certain they would be laughing.

“What am I going to do if someone approaches me and says, ‘Good day, Sir Waldron. The prince’s presence has been requested in the throne room’? What do I tell them? ‘I’m sorry, but the prince is hiding in the roses, and he’s become a rabbit’?”

Again, no answer. Kit rushes out to make a beeline to his next hiding spot, and Lark leaps. Arms outstretched, launching himself towards them, he snatches them up before they can escape… and lands squarely on his stomach amongst the dirt and the plants.

Lark hisses in pain, but he’s finally caught Kit after so much trouble. He wriggles in his grasp as the knight shifts into a sitting position.

He laughs, shaking his head while he catches his breath. “Don’t… don’t make a habit of that, okay?” Although he has a feeling this won’t be the last time Kit makes an escape.

#a message from the liege: asks #the scribe's manuscript: drabble #{ chasing rabbits in bejewelled crowns } kit | rabbitfled #rabbitfled #verse: it is a knight's duty #(making use of kit’s tag pfft) #(they get to have some sillies!)

[paladinquest]

013. a great ballroom during an elegant party . // @rabbitholewritten i had to okay

drabble prompts!

-

There’s still a part of Lark that doesn’t feel like he should be here. He stands stiffly on the edge of the ballroom, hands clasped at attention in front of him, and eyes focused on his charge his ruler his friend. Harper.

Harper, who brought him back after he ran away. Harper, who appointed him as their personal knight, even after learning of his failures.

What if he fails again? What if he’s unable to protect them?

They’re dressed in the finest robes, looking regal and dignified. He knows they must loathe having to do this, somewhat — the politics, the presentation — but they keep up the appearance well. The colours of their clothes stand out even more than everyone else’s, even more than the party’s luxurious decorations. Or maybe it’s just him.

Whispers drift across to him. Eyes rest heavily upon him. Lark pretends like he can’t notice the stares, or the talk of the fallen knight. He straightens his shoulders, steadies his breathing, and then Harper looks across at him.

And instantly, something in him relaxes. He smiles at them, not quite as brightly as he used to… but close. The smile they return makes it feel like everything could be okay.

Because if they believe he can be their knight, then who is he to question them?

#a message from the liege: asks #the scribe's manuscript: drabble #{ lay down my life for you / lay down my lives } harper | rabbitholewritten #rabbitholewritten #verse: destiny calls you home #(i’m setting this after lark ran away for extra ouch factor >:D)

[paladinquest]

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺     (   a  collection  of  various  settings  meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts .   will be updated .   )

001.   the seaside ,  as the sun is setting .

002.   a cabin in the middle of the woods .

003.   a picket-fenced home in the suburbs .

004.   a dark bus stop lit only by street lights .

005.   a private jet miles high in the sky .

006.   a funhouse’s room of mirrors .

007.   an office building ,  bustling and busy .

008.   the back row of an empty movie theater .

009.   a run-down (or abandoned) motel room .

010.   a loud house party on a suburban street .

011.   a university lecture hall during a class .

012.   the rooftop of a very tall building .

013.   a great ballroom during an elegant party .

014.   the back of a wailing ambulance .

015.   the wine cellar of a large mansion .

016.   behind the school’s gymnasium .

017.   a bonfire in the middle of the woods .

018.   an otherwise empty parking lot .

019.   the bar of a loud ,  dark club .

020.   an empty summer camp .

021.   a large hedge maze ,  easy to get lost in .

022.   a neglected or derelict treehouse .

023.   a spacious ,  light-filled meadow .

024.   an underground / illegal fighting club .

025.   an abandoned scrapyard .

026.   a large penthouse overlooking the city .

027.   an apple orchard in the middle of spring .

028.   an empty playground with squeaky swings .

029.   an extravagant greenhouse .

030.   the base of a large waterfall .

031.   a spacious walk - in closet full of lovely clothes .

032.   a quiet hospital room .

033.   the dark depths of an abandoned mine .

034.   the deck of a fishing boat at night .

035.   the thick crowd of an audience at a show .

036.   a long ,  winding road .

037.   the site of a car accident .

038.   a hiking trail in the mountains .

039.   a cramped dressing room .

040.   a dusty antiques shop full of relics .

041.   the street of an unfamiliar city at night .

042.   between the tall shelves of a thrifted book shop .

043.   a building abandoned during construction .

044.   a house without power or running water .

045.   a mysterious trail found in the woods .

046.   the back of a taxi stuck in traffic .

047.   the inside of an elevator that won’t move .

048.   fairgrounds during a large event  (or after hours) .

049.   a garden bountiful with flowers or produce .

050.   a childhood home or bedroom .

#jousting competition: rp meme

[paladinquest]

i’m going to rb some d.rabble prompts because i’m high on lark muse but low on lark drafts, so it’s a quick thing with no expectation of a reply (but still /nf as always!!)

that being said, and the main point of this post: if it’s my turn for something and i haven’t replied (threads or asks), please let me know because in that case i don’t have it in drafts!

#call of the herald: ooc #(holds the boy in the air and gently shakes him like a ragdoll) #(if you do want to reply or send something not on the prompt list that’s okay too!)

[paladinquest]

Dedication to character? What on earth is this man talking about? Maybe he thinks he’s an actor of sorts, but Lark is certain his sword looks very real.

“I… No, I don’t.” Why would he sit around and pretend to be someone else all day? Who is he looking at? Lark’s gaze follows his, but it only leads to more confusion. Whatever this is, it’s well outside his jurisdiction! “Are you feeling quite all right?”

Aha! A theatre! That explains all of this man’s talk of characters. He must, himself, be an actor — maybe one that has travelled from a distant land, just to perform here. One that seemingly has friends at the local theatre. One that’s… out of sorts, but appears to be mostly harmless.

“Well, the palace is right by our town, and there’s a theatre not too far. I can walk you there.” Lark nods his head off in the direction of the other buildings. “It isn’t safe to be wandering around alone at night.” So why had he been doing exactly that? His first words still strike a chord of unease, but he steps aside from it in favour of introductions, for now. “I haven’t caught your name, sir. I am Sir Lark Waldron. And you are?”

He can take him to where he needs to go, and then he’ll be the theatre people’s problem. All in a good night’s work!

-

Wilford's head tilted. This person isn't a LARPer, but was called Lark? That was a bit too on the nose for this hobby, wasn't it?

"That's dedication to character. Well done." Deciding not to risk the wrath of a sword, Wilford went against patting the other man on the shoulder. "In that case, yer all in th' know. Wouldn't know how ta explain all that stuff anyway. Not like ya sit 'round an' pretend ta be someone else all day."

Whether that be acting or by writing, he mentally added as he glanced aside to look at no one in particular. (Hi muns!)

However, this posed a challenge. If this Lark fellow was so engrossed in-character, how was Wilford supposed to ask how to get back to the studio? He didn't answer at first, as he tapped his index finger against his lips. Lark would hopefully realise that this wasn't an act to distract, but that the pink stranger was actually deep in thought (surprising, I know).

"Er... I, uh... Need ta find.... Um, Gimme a sec ta think 'bout this. Never could get into this sorta thing." He needed to give directions in an old timey manner. Wait! "I need ta get ta a town. Maybe a big one. An' there's this, uh... Theatre! Yeah, a theatre! I know some fellas - people - that work there."

#tales from the castle: thread #{ gunpowder and a dash of madness } wilford | rosetintedgunman #rosetintedgunman #verse: it is a knight's duty #(smh wilford (gestures to all of marki.plier tv)) #(wilford about lark: he’s really dedicated to his character!) #(lark about wilford: he’s… mad. very mad)

[paladinquest]

His mouth feels dry and he feels hopeless. Hopeless in finding ways to comfort Kit, when he sees this as a simple truth. The entire court would agree. Lark’s life isn’t as valuable as the Prince’s. And yet, they seem to see it differently, and he can’t help but feel humbled by it. Appreciative.

Lark smiles back at him, wiping off his hands. “You laugh, my liege, but that rock might have been what was standing between us and certain death!” He does have a point, though. Maybe he should touch it first, to be safe?

With one finger extended, he reaches to touch the nearest ceystal. Bracing for pain. For something. But all he feels is a slight tingle reaching up his arm. He glances to them, shrugging. “It doesn’t… appear to be harmful.”

“There are no onlookers other than you!” Lark protests. There’s a clear smile on his face, though; aware of the things he’s put himself through in order to impress.

When the light moment falters, he almost doesn’t realize what caused Kit’s change of mood. Clearing his throat, he whispers, “I didn’t mean to worry you, I—”

I’m expendable. You are not.

But then the Prince is drawn away, and Lark can’t find the right words to finish with. He can only dutifully follow, and allow his curiosity to peak, as they move closer to the crystals. Crystals? He’s never seen anything like it. Lark reaches out to hover a hand over one of them, as well. The closer his hand gets, it almost seems like the structure hums a musical note.

“They are. They’re… otherworldly.” He almost touches it, directly, and then utters a curse. If he allows himself to be too reckless, and if Kit does the same, he won’t be doing his job. “Wait. Let me…”

A pebble is thrown at the crystals, and bounces off of them harmlessly. Security measure accomplished!

-

The undertones of Lark’s intentions manage to strike Kit’s chest in a way that makes him ache ; Lark didn’t have to finish his sentence in order for Kit to assume. Walking away is his best option to avoid the truths he despises knowing. No one life should be more expendable than another. Not when they are both loved.

Hand reaches out to touch the crystals — but Lark calls him away. He waits, allowing his knight to conduct whatever checks he deems necessary. It is all for his safety … even if some of the methods are more entertaining than serious.

A small laugh, almost a snort, passes Kit’s lips as Lark tosses a rock at the crystals. He looks over his shoulder, smiling in a teasing fashion. “ And what did you think you were going to accomplish with that ? I really don’t think rocks equate to humans. ”

#tales from the castle: thread #{ chasing rabbits in bejewelled crowns } kit | rabbitfled #rabbitfled #verse: it is a knight's duty #(recipe for disaster and cool rocks!! focus on the cool rocks part it’s fine)

[paladinquest]

i wanted to make a post about the horned lark with some information on them but there is literally no bad photos of them they are so amazingly cute in every photo so. here’s a bunch of photos. my information: i love them

#woven tapestries and stained glass: aes #sit by the fire for a spell: queue #(look. look it’s him) #long post

[paladinquest]

The stranger calls him by name. The stranger? No. No, it’s… Lark glances back at the dog, who by now is practically forcing him to pet her by pawing at his knee. He obliges, but his expression remains confused. “… Chica?” Then, he looks to him. “Mar—”

Lark stands abruptly, barely able to get his words out. His scars. His hair. Blue? What happened? “You— you’re still alive. I looked for you. I worried about you, and you’re here! You’re here.”

He wants to launch himself at him, to embrace him tightly and never let go. He wants to see for himself that he’s truly present. But something in his eyes says he doesn’t fully believe what’s happening. Like he’s seen an illusion, or a ghost.

“What am I doing here?” The question finally hits him, and he flounders for an answer. “I… there was an accident.”

Whenever Atlas goes on a walk, Chica comes with. She trots alongside him, weaving against his legs before occasionally dashing off to follow a scent. Guarding Atlas, but supporting him as well. He needs to get out of the workshop, and so does she.

When she ran off that time, it was clearly after something she deemed interesting. Exciting, even ! But instead of stopping within Atlas’ field of vision, she kept going. Confused, Atlas stalled before trying to catch up. When he finally catches up to her, the mutterings of “ Chica, what — ? ” are all that make it out before he freezes.

It feels impossible. Yet, it must be real.

Chica barks, breaking the silence. Snapping Atlas out of his trance. He slowly steps forward, pushing overgrown hair out of his eyes ( more silvers & blues than browns, tangled in his hair like unnatural aging ) . “ Lark ? What … what are you doing here ? ” You look terrible, he almost follows with, but it doesn’t seem the right time to point that out.

#tales from the castle: thread #{ unlikely brother and dearest friend } atlas / mark | calledstars #calledstars #{ fluffy protector } chica #verse: sheath the blade #sit by the fire for a spell: queue #(:D!! here we goooo) #(atlas: what are you doing here?) #(lark not listening: what?? happened to you???)