shaded-hawke

[shaded-hawke]

+ / - Magic AU: Your OC has suddenly lost or suddenly gained magic. What is their life like now?

Per me bothering you, let's give Mavas Holy Magic! I have no idea how he'd get Holy magic, but let's say somehow, for some reason, some nice (sadistic) holy user decides the best thing for mister warlock assassin is to purge every last drop of darkness from him. Let's say he survives this somehow too, because just "Mav dies" wouldn't be useful to the AU.

At first he wouldn't know what to do. Being connected to a power that requires control and faith in something wouldn't be that difficult to translate from his fel usage into the Light, but the sheer difference would be staggering and daunting. He'd try to hide away, honestly paranoid of what others would see him as without what he considers his actual strengths.

Eventually he'd ask for help, either from his family, or seeking out someone who might owe him a favor or six that could get him an instructor. With his capacity to learn and adapt I think he'd make a terrifying Holy user, with a focus on destruction and power. He'd definitely be a retribution light user, possibly with a dabbling in healing as it would interest him in an academic way.

He would work to stay much the same in his lifestyle, albeit a bit less sneaky. He'd hate the gold eyes, and probably enchant them to be fel green again, a vain reminder of the power he had once possessed. Plus it could possibly trick a few people into expecting one thing, and getting something far different.

#Mav and Magic #OOC blurb #Thank you!

[shaded-hawke]

+ / - Magic AU: Your OC has suddenly lost or suddenly gained magic. What is their life like now? (Lost)

Mavas has two different types of magic he utilizes daily, his shadow magic, and his fel/chaos magic. Both are intrinsic to his life like air, and to lose one of them would be akin to losing a limb. If he were to lose his capacity with fel magic, he'd probably survive...he'd hate it and be absolutely miserable without the power, and he'd also lose control over Kurel which would be it's own set of terrible issues, but considering his entire life has been building the control of this specific magic from when it was introduced to him as a child until now, it would be safe to say he would survive, but he would hate every second of it.

Shadow magic, on the other hand, strangely enough would be the one that would make him disappear for a long time, if not forever. Without the natural abilities that let him survive day to day he'd actually be quite useless and weak. Two things Mavas cannot deal with on a very base level. Even without fel magic, if he could still disappear and use the shadows as a cloak and safety net, he would be fine, but without that he'd be undone. Without shadows there is no Mavas.

#OOC blurb #Thank you for the ask! #Mav and Magic

[shaded-hawke]

NPCs, AUs, and Other Stuff ™️

Send one of these bad boys in for a blurb about the “what if” kinda of stuff. You know, the questions that keep my brain awake at 5 AM.

If your OC was a follower: Where do you find them? What are their bonuses? Voice lines? Are they a rare follower? 

Your OC as a raid boss and all the fun details about location, phases, and abilities.

Does your OC have any “NPC followers”? Secondary characters that come along on adventures?

Writer Question: What’s your favorite NPC in the game?

An AU where your OC served the opposite faction/Big Bad for one of their universes (EG Legion, Alliance fighting for the Horde, Twilight’s Hammer) 

A Vital Moment AU: Subtract a vital moment from your OC’s life. How are they different? What is their life like?

+ / - Magic AU: Your OC has suddenly lost or suddenly gained magic. What is their life like now?

The cheesy line. You know the one. Heroes and bad lads alike have one. The thing they say when they’re about to go off. What’s your OC’s line?

If your OC was in a different game/universe what would it be and what would their role be?

Write your own question. WILDCARD. 

#just gonna borrow this

[shaded-hawke]

every inch a king

“No matter how far from home he goes, he is still–he is still a King, it is ingrained in him from the inside out. And as much as I am afraid of it, it is a great deal to do with why I am still in love with him.” Eilithe said with remorse clinging to the tip of her tongue. Mavas was among the few who could understand what it meant to love and be loyal to Kurel An’diel, the weight of all that he asked. Not just all he asked– but what he gave in kind. That night she came home to a half-empty house. Eilonwy, gone to Merchant Alley with her friend. Kurel, down at the docks with their second eldest son. Malik was greeted her at the door and clung to her leg. “You can go home, Dianora–I’ve got him,” she told her trusted caretaker. The white-haired Kaldorei bowed with a smile– leaving mother and son alone. As the boy drifted in and out of sleep, Eilithe  found herself thinking far back.  It was nearly twenty years ago.

“Do you want me to be weak? Vulnerable? So you can take everything I have built? I am not Lucia. I am stronger than her. I am still alive. You took her ship, her land, part of her heart even– but you will take none of that from me,” Eilithe spat at him

“Your righ’ to be intimidated,” Kurel said against her ear. “If the opportunity arose, I’d take it all from you,” he finished, leaving Eilithe to consider the terms he’d given. Conditions. For his fleet to join hers on the water. 

Three days later she’d written him a letter, unable to face a blind man that could see right through her. By now, Eilithe couldn’t recall the exactly what the letter said. Only how it had ended: 

Finally, please note that I am willing to negotiate without being a ‘hostile cunt’- this includes my openness to anything I can do to help you.

Until next we meet, Eilithe Duskbringer

And of course how he’d replied.

Eilithe,

First. Yes. Next. Good. Of course.

Finally. I do not believe you.

    ~ The Pirate King.

She had scoffed at the title, ignorant that his claim to royalty laid not with the sea but the sand. 

No, she would give him so much more than a ship or land. She gave him everything. And he had given everything in kind. The weight of Malik’s sleeping body brought Eilithe’s attention back to the present. His cheek was pressed into her stomach, mouth agape and is mismatched eyes lulled shut. A single curl was pushed away from the boy’s face with a single clawed finger. 

Of the things he’d given, his own love and his children were those she held closest to her chest. Even the children who were far away now. Somewhere she could no longer  protect them. 

Malik was limp as Eilithe carried him up the stairs to his bed. As she set him into his bed, she lingered there in his doorway until she dragged herself back downstairs to the study. Two parchments obtained, Eilithe set to work on the first letter. 

Eronal,

It has been many years since you and I have spoken and I hope to every God that will hear me that you are alive. None would speak on your fate after Ammon was unseated and the fault lies with me for never seeking you out myself.

If there is still hope in you, if there is still fight in you– I beg that we arrange a meeting. My messenger will ensure you are safe and that our messages are secured. 

Stay out of sight on the sands, Eilithe

By the time she’d finished the first, the front door creaked open. The footfalls went unheard– which meant they were not Kurel’s. Without a knock, the office door pushed open slowly, Loren’s shoulder leaned into the frame. “You summoned?” He sounded almost bored by it, being called so late at night.  “You’re leaving at dawn,” Eilithe proclaimed, sealing the first letter and beginning the next. 

“Oh? Well, that’s much more exciting, my lady,” he eyed her desk with a hard gaze. “And where am I going?” 

Eilithe didn’t answer. The second letter contained no names– for safety of her daughter above all else. 

Kallah, When you left home, I did not stop you; though with every ounce of my being I wanted to keep you here. I cannot say inside of this letter all the things I should have after your Uncle exposed truths to you that your father and I should have said long ago. But I will say this:

We never told you– because it never mattered. Because I know what you are, before anything else, is good. You are witty and strong and you are my daughter. I knew that you would leave one day– all children must when they become adults. And you, kallah, you were made to become one far too quickly. 

Now, more than ever, we need you at home. It is no longer safe for you to be where you are, so please, return to us before something terrible happens. I will explain everything. Every piece that was ever hidden from you and everything that has happened in your absence. 

Please come home, Mai

“Eilithe?” 

“Tanaris,” she responded curtly– drying ink on the second letter before she sealed it up and made a small ‘x’ on the back of its envelope. “The first letter you will give to Eronal Dawnseeker– if she still lives. She’ll be hard to find. You remember what she looks like?”

“Blonde and fragile,” Loren responded. 

“Mm,” she stood to go to the wall, encircling a small range of mountains. “You see this portion of the sands? You don’t go there. Under any circumstances. If you are captured...”

“I know,” he said. “The second?”

“Karkah An’Diel, I’ve no idea where she is– but if she is in Tanaris– and she may be. Get. Her. Out. Call for back up if you have to and do not underestimate her,” Eilithe warned, giving him a stern stare. 

“I remember, Lady An’Diel.” 

“Karkah’s letter is priority–once you find her, abandon search for Eronal. And Loren, if you find Severin out there…somewhere. Capture him or finish what you started.”

He paused for a moment, lips pursed together– eyes tight on Eilithe’s form. “What?” He asked, brow quirking upward. 

“He survived. He survived and he very well might become a danger to my entire family now. At the very best, he might be able to help us.” Eilithe crossed her arms, staring out of the back window. “Now go back to Harbinger’s Gate. Before Kurel returns and he decides he is in a particularly foolish mood.”  Not another word came from the whisper–silence, before the click of the front door came. Eilithe waited for a few beats before she wandered into the front room.

When the familiar and bulky silhouette came through that door, Eilithe stopped him there in the doorway. Black hair that hung around his face came from his father and his father’s father. His frame was imposing, even in comparison to taller, full-blooded Kaldorei.  She could not deny that even this far from the sands he was still– every inch, the scorpid king. 

Eilithe pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips as the door shut behind him. The immediate show of affection and outright clinginess of his wife might’ve sparked paranoia in Kurel An’Diel– but she gave him no seconds to protest before she spoke softly against his ear. 

“Come to bed.” 

@shaded-hawke​ @eronaldawnseeker​ @kurel-andiel

#What it means to love #His family

[shaded-hawke]

Five Headcanons

1. Mav misses his old life sometimes, when he could just pretend to go with the flow and do missions and not have to think. He doesn't really want to say that to anyone though, because he believes very strongly voicing such a thought would somehow manifest it and everything he's worked for would vanish.

2. There is only one person Mav trusts to reveal the true depths of his actual actions, and that one person doesn't ask. He's eternally grateful that Kurel asks nothing and just expects results, and tends to not care how they're gotten. @eilitheandiel is starting to become a second, though he hesitates because he still isn't quite sure how she'd react to some of it.

3. Mav finds the entirety of Dead Sun and it's cohorts endearing, and he casually enjoys the chaos so many minds and personalities creates, even if they're ridiculous nonsense. Looking at you, tour of Stormwind.

4. He is slowly slipping into the madness of power that most warlocks tend to fall into, and while he is able to combat it most of the time, there will come a time when he loses control completely.

5. Someday Mav will get hit with something that makes him go absolutely haywire and he'll be a smiling gentle happy soul, and everyone will think he's gone insane. Someday.

I was awakened from my thousand year slumber by @eilitheandiel but she tagged everyone I know. Weep.

#headcanons for Mav

[shaded-hawke]

Prompt: Another Life

Divergent Paths:   Slip into a reality where a crucial decision you’ve made was made differently.   Meet a version of yourself that made a choice at a pivotal point in your life that differs from the choice you made.  What is their life like?   Do they regret it?   Do you wish you’d made the choice they did?  Confront what might have been to slip back to reality.  -- prompt created by @velerodra-valesinger  The mirror had appeared despite his best intentions to avoid every place he had heard the Countess and others mention they would appear, it had been easy enough to avoid the lines of magical power he felt with every pulse of his heartbeat, but unfortunately for Mavas the magic that controlled the strange area of Duskwatch seemed keen to have him be entertaining, and he had little time to stop himself as the cool portal had appeared and he had slid through it.  The first thing he felt was the carefully curated hum of arcane magic laced with light that always let him know he was home. Most Sin’dorei considered Silvermoon their home, and while he had wandered far and wide on Azeroth for work and his own personal journeys, there was something about returning to the hum of the magic that had birthed him that set him normally at ease.  This time, though, as he studied the crumbling structures of the ruined parts of the city, the paths that flitted with moving shadows he knew no doubt by name, fel eyes narrowed as he studied the road towards the Conclave. This was a homecoming...but what home would he be coming to? Reports from the others flitted in his mind, stories of facing choices, of seeing alternative paths and even whole new worlds came and went as he cycled through his options mentally. They all said the same though, they had faced whatever oddity that was this other world, and had returned. His face set with determination, Mavas began to walk. One foot in front of the other, barely disturbing the dust beneath, he stood to his full height and strode straight to the heavy wooden doors that lead into the Conclave, pushing them open and letting them close behind him with a heavy thunk before he could question his sanity too closely on returning to such a place, even in an alternative world.  It was different. The darker hallways and shadows had been illuminated by wall sconces, glowing an eerie green fire that made the rooms look ghostly in their light. There were members sitting in chairs or couches, all staring at him silently as he moved through, following the deep red carpet beneath his feet, the only carpet in a sea of black marble flooring. Mav got the unsettling feeling he had interrupted something, but that strangely enough he was expected which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, fingers twitching faintly but managing to stay away from the hidden dagger hilts at his hips. His silent steps lead him through the room into a hall, two more rooms much the same as the first if only a change in furniture position, and then finally the black ornate doors that lead to where his ex-leader would hold his so called 'court'. Mavas had always hated the heavy dark wooden feel of the room, the raised throne and the shadowy pillars on the sides that he knew contained a dozen ways to kill him when he passed each one, the oppressive knowledge that he breathed because he was permitted had made him despise being called to this room especially, the reminder of his invisible chains had always grated to his very core. As the doors open and he stepped in, fel green eyes widened. He hated it even more. He hadn't thought it was possible. Where there had been darkness, there was now near blinding light. The floor was no longer black but a checkerboard pattern of black and white stone spreading the illusion that the room was much larger than it was. The walls were draped in deep crimson fabric, and from each low dip hung a black chain and cauldron, the same eerie green fire burning, though it was mostly for show as the room seemed to be illuminated from bright glowing orbs in the ceiling, chasing away shadow and leaving Mavas feeling painfully exposed.  In the center of the room was a round set of three tiered steps, a massive gleaming throne upon it, either painted or pure silver with black and red velvet along the back and seat in diagonal stripes. And sitting upon it was himself. Well, perhaps seated was a misnomer, Mavas would only be able to give the position as draped, his other self had his legs up on one arm, leaning back into the side of the chair, arms crossed over his chest, burning green eyes staring at him curiously. As the doors closed quietly behind him,  Mavas stepped three more measured paces in, and then stood there, meeting his own gaze steadily, letting the silence stretch until it nearly filled the entire room. “You. Are not what I expected." His doppelganger (or was he the doppelganger? Mavas did not think too carefully on that) At any rate he remained silent, not moving forward or really at all, waiting. The Mavas on the throne sighed, long legs covered in tight leather and familiar worn boots sliding from the armrest they had been on as he moved to stand, his movements fluid and near seductive. It put him on edge, but years of being in this room with another who moved much the same way had him holding still as the other approached him. As this Mavas got closer, he could see along the edges of his temples small cracks in his flesh, glowing green striping along his cheeks and his neck. Even this one's eyes were much more contaminated than his own...how much had this one fallen to his Fel madness? Mavas stood still as the other him stopped in front of him, forcing himself not to lean back as the other leaned in to study him curiously. Finally the silence was broken once more as his other self spoke once more.  "Where did you come from?" He asked casually.   "A weakening between our two worlds. I imagine I will return swiftly now that we have met." Mavas replied, voice more clipped and sharp. His other smiled, and Mav tensed. Smiles were not pleasant to him, not on people like him. Every friend or loved one he had let into his life in the past years seemed to get joy when Mavas smiled or even laughed, and Mavas could never explain why it was such a rare commodity, but staring at himself smiling at him, he suddenly realized what it was. To him, a smile was dangerous, it was teeth bared and an animalistic warning that he had never been quite able to see as anything but a harbinger of pain and harm.  "I think you'll return once I let you return. Tell me, what name do you go by?" His other asked, head tilting curiously.  "Mavas." He replied, there was no reason to lie, the question could only come from himself. Only he would understand what it truly meant. "Mm...I wonder then, when you remained Mavas and I returned to Shade. Tell me, Sparrow, who is your important person?" Shade asked, and Mavas tensed...he hated that this creature knew what to ask him. It was himself, he was being interrogated, and he knew if he did not answer there would be repercussions. "What is yours?" He replied by way of another question, knowing it would throw him off if someone questioned him, and he was glad to see it still worked in this world as his other self frowned suddenly, as if not expecting something like that. And really, who had ever questioned Mavas when he had started his gentle interrogations? To others he was merely curious, gentle pluckings of information were easily done and the target rarely realized what was happening. "That...is certainly a question. Would you believe if I said I did not have one?" Shade replied, amusement in his tone. The emotion in his voice made Mavas twitch internally, he could not follow where this warm tone came from, it sounded too much like his ex-leader, like his so-called Mother, like the people he had spent years getting as far away from as he could without causing outright war. He took a quick breath to calm himself, raising his chin faintly. "I would not, Gabri-"  "I slit his throat." Shade replied easily. "Name them...go forward. Thoen? Dead. The others? Dead. Not one left living in my path to dominance...Mother, Father...well they had always wanted me to return to power. After the pirate's death what was there to stop me from returning? Though I suppose they did not imagine me returning with my own army...and the power of my Behemoth at my back."  Mav was tense, stunned into silence as he found himself trying to catch up. He pushed aside the aching pain as those who had once held his heart were named dead so easily, trying to focus logically. Death..pirate's death. "Kurel." he said suddenly. "Kurel is dead?" Shade blinked, having expected there to be more of a shock at his confession of his rampage but he suddenly smiled again. "That's what it is?" he laughed suddenly. "You brought him back!" Mavas grimaced at the sound of the laughter, it was sharp and loud, it held an edge of insanity that made his skin crawl, that his body and himself could produce such a maddening sound. "It was never in question." he growled, anger burning in his chest. Shade leaned back, shaking his head. "It was...after he gored me and nearly killed me, I stared at that body so full of potential, and then at the Soulstone that had his being trapped where we had sent it. What was our single question to him, do you remember? Do you want the power or not...he responded he wanted it. Unmitigated strength fueled by me and you know what I saw when I went to his soulstone...do you know what I found? Peace." His face turned to a sneer. "Weakness, once again I had been abandoned to weakness. He would disappoint me again if I brought him back, I knew that now...with that woman, with the next woman, with a thousand betrayals he would perform over the years." he smiled then, almost in mocking as if he knew he should feel sad when he continued, "When I crushed the stone and dispersed his soul to the Maw...I felt disappointment. But then I remembered...I had my greatest creation...and now I could do whatever I wanted with it." Mav felt his blood freeze as he listened, the words laced in malice and disgust making him feel nauseous as they flowed from his counterpart. The world from that one point slid in his mind, all of the people, the things that had been created and destroyed, had been forged and made better because of his one choice...he didn't notice he'd stepped back until the other him made a soft cooing sound, as if trying to calm his raging mind. "Oh...I should introduce you to him." Shade said, reaching up and snapping his fingers. From the far end of the room the sound of chains being removed and falling to the stone floor was heard, and loud steps slowly crept from the shadows as the Behemoth monster that lived beneath Kurel's skin, the beast Mav felt his connection to and helped lend his power to tamp down...he could feel it now, the same marks that glowed fel green across the creature, and he had lashed in his flesh when he had first done his binding spell burned as the power from the beastly demonic construct stopped almost docile beside the other him. Shade reached up, gently patting the beast's arm. "This is what you could have had. This creature, power beyond imagining...the ones that started this body's transformation had little knowledge of what they were truly creating...the power latent within the pirate's form mixed with mine? He's unstoppable." Shade grinned madly. "And isn't that what you've always wanted? Power...that's what we've always wanted, truly deep down." Mavas stared at the monster in front of him, he could feel it’s power as if it were his own, the control his Other had a thousand times stronger but he could wrest it...he could... “No.” Shade raised a brow, eyes gleaming as he had expected some kind of struggle. “No?” he questioned.  Mavas raised his head, tearing his eyes from the hulking monster that had been the flesh of his brother, settling his gaze upon his Other as he spoke. “I would not trade the thousand small betrayals, the loss, the destruction, and the utter frustration that is Kurel An’Diel for anything. Not for power, not for glory. His life is far more precious, and far more valuable to me, and my life, and my path, than any who have or will come. You have your creation, but you have lost more than you will even be able to fathom.”  Shade sneered, eyes flaring as he moved swiftly into Mav’s face, glaring at him nose to nose. “And what do you think you could ever have that would be worth more than my kingdom I have created?”  Mav paused, head tilting to the side, a movement mimicked by his Other. He finally smiled, a soft smile that did not show teeth, that crinkled the corners of his eyes and it pleased him at how utterly baffled and even afraid his Other looked to see such a peaceful expression on his own visage.  “I have myself, and those I would die for. I have love, which is something you will never have.” Mavas replied simply, and stepped backwards. His back  did not collide with the door, but instead into open air as the familiar scent of Duskwatch assaulted his nose. His gaze did not falter from the outraged scandalized gaze of his Other, until with a pop the mirror portal vanished into the air. He stared into nothing, before some part of him realized how ridiculous he looked out in the middle of the street, and he managed to get himself moving to his lab. Once behind safe walls Mavas could fall into his seat and process what had just happened...he just had to get there.  ( @kurel-andiel for many mentions)

#Vel prompts are best prompts #Mirror verse

[shaded-hawke]

A Crack

“It always comes with a mental attack.” Mavas had felt his mind grey out, thoughts slipping to another time, a place far from the warmth of the Lamb surrounded by allies or those that would not harm him. He could feel the ghost of long fingers on the back of his neck, of manicured nails sliding up the back of his scalp. He managed to put the tumbler with his finished bourbon down before quickly making excuses and leaving the Lady Mirin and the other...he could not remember the name, to slip into the shadows of Stormwind proper.  The cool air of the city hit him and it calmed his fraying nerves long enough for him to reach the tea house, and then step foot on the sands of the Harbor. Mavas blinked up at the dense jungle, eyes narrowing as the sense of guilt, of anger at himself and of failure slid free from his carefully constructed walls, threatening to strangle him.  “Little Shade...did it feel the same?” Fel eyes burned as a shifting ball of shadow and fel fire lit up in his hand, the Sin’dorei turning sharply, but he did not fire. The voice felt like it had been at his ear, he could practically smell the soft floral scent of the latest wine she had consumed...but she was not there. Mav let out a slow breath, turning on his heel and heading at pace to his home...his new home.  The house was a two-story home, much the same as what he had in Sunspire. The bottom floor was an open concept, the front door lead into a roomy kitchen that then lead into the living area, two doors on the far wall that lead to a washroom, and stairs to the basement. A set of stairs that weren’t quite finished lead to three bedrooms on the second floor, the main bedroom with a very roomy bathroom and the other two sharing another bathroom. It was all basically finished, painting and sanding, adding railings, the home was near ready to move in and it needed more touches...more safe guards.  Mav closed the door behind him, locking it though with the windows not fully finished it was pointless. It gave him a sense of security though, one that he desperately needed. The scent had followed him, he felt the fingers again, and he let out a small growl of frustration, stalking back and forth from kitchen to living area like a trapped big cat.  “They will kill you if you do not kill them first.” Words from another that had sunk into his mind, deep and powerful, he had underestimated her power and it had only been the carefully constructed holes he had built himself over a century of mental torture that had allowed him to hesitate, to cling to logic and to not attack. Shadaela, or whomever was using these creatures, had been right...they would have killed him if he had attacked, and he hadn’t stopped because of companionship, or friendship, or any reason other than he knew he would have died.  His life came first.  “But doesn’t it always, Shade? It always has, my favorite...my only Favorite mm?” “You aren’t here.” Mav ground out, scratching over his left arm violently, where the slug had ruptured, where the shadow poison had been pulled from him. 

He could smell it again, that wine scent sickeningly thick in the home. He heard her laugh, echoing in the walls and in his mind, and he shook his head trying to clear it, animalistic and panicked in his motions. Scratching at his arm again a thought came clear, like a shard of hope in his addled mind.  Pulling up his sleeve Mav did not hesitate, pulling out his dagger he dug deep into his own flesh at the crook of his elbow, cutting downwards and carving slowly. It calmed him, methodically he continued his lines, paying no attention to the slowly speeding trickle of blood that was now running from his forearm to the floor. Five sigils, each slowly created, each a ward against mind control. He had etched these into his own bones once, his flesh too easily burned off and repaired to make them useful. Now with his new body, this body created once again by failure he had lost his protection...she was there, she had to be.  Next came the blood sigils on the walls. He painted them carefully, every time he felt mildly dizzy he shook it away, he had to do this, he had to get this done. Not safe...he was not safe. 

Mav woke up in the middle of his living room floor, the sun was shining and he grimaced as he looked away from the window up at the ceiling. His arm ached, and his head felt heavy. Snippets of what had happened the night before slid to him and he looked at the walls, covered in small precise runes every few inches apart. He had nearly written an entire collection of protection spells in every viable language there was on Azeroth...in his own blood.  Looking down at the angry red swelled lines of the runes in his arm, the raven-haired elf frowned. Two of the sigils still bled sluggishly, and he knew he had cut too deep for them to stop on their own. Looking back up at the wall, he felt a calm wash over him. It wasn’t the smartest idea, and he remembered what Thoen had once said, about his panic attacks. He pushed it to the side in favor of the result, pushing down his sleeve and standing slowly to go get himself some water, and then go see if Zelphryin was in the clinic for his discretion. One last glance at the sigils made it all worth it.  He could be safe again. 

#TW: Blood #Aftermath of a PTSD attack #Mav and blood magic #Mav needs to stop using magic #The Shade and his Mistress

[shaded-hawke]

The Unknown

There were many things he did not know. 

He did not know why the sun rose and set in the East and West. He did not know how exactly the magicks of their land worked. He did not even know sometimes how the magic within himself worked, though it always came to his call when he wielded it. There was, however one thing, Mavas Hawke was very sure of above all things. 

Kurel An’Diel was going to get himself killed. 

The reports had come in even as he had been tidying his office, reports that unnerved the raven haired Sin’dorei. He became distracted, mind working in overdrive as he began to prepare. He had laid the bricks for this particular foundation from his very first day, knowing one day he may have to vanish for long periods of time, and Sunspire had to hold, it had to survive without his presence. After all, what would they return to when they came home? 

When...not if.  Each business was visited, each proprietor informed of his absence. Each given a communicator to use only in emergencies, and each given the hierarchy of listening to the small council he had created. Each knew where they fell, and each knew to listen to the one above them. It had taken time, some blood, and a bit of fear, but he had gotten the strong headed savvy businesses in line, and it had worked wonders for his Port.  The next step was the defenses, and with the arcane cannons installed in the harbor, the generator field keeping aerial attacks away, and the guards he had trained himself protecting the borders, Mavas was sure that his home was protected...Kurel would demand nothing less, and Mavas was nothing if not working to please the volatile Captain.  It took two days from the report of the Gambit heading for the desert until he was packed and leaving his home. Another day to get to Stormwind and four hours to figure out where Saeris had gone. He had been concerned the elf was in Dead Sun, it would have been harder to extricate them both without alerting Eilithe, or one of the children. Thankfully, the Quartermaster had yet to return to their second home, and he quickly found them passage to the desert, and then collected the crimson haired Sin’dorei for the journey.  As they traveled across the sea, Mavas silently watched, waiting for that speck of horizon to shift, to become mountainous and tan. He was like a statue, never moving while around him the cutter bustled with activity. He was calculating, coming up with different scenarios, what he knew about Kurel, and where the Tanari would go. He had come up with a rough idea of what Kurel might be doing, but how he was planning to accomplish it...Mav put that into another pile of unknown. Too many variables all around, really. He shook his head, sighing softly.  As his feet touched the sand, the warmth soaking into his leather boots, Mavas closed his eyes. The last time he had been here, he had taken down one of his oldest colleagues. He was buried in the dunes not far from the sea. He let himself reminisce...the first time he had met Kurel, the Vengeance, the Gambit, and what exactly having a family meant to him.  “You ready for this?” Saeris’s voice cut into his musings, and his fel eyes snapped open, looking over at the elf he had saved from slavery, whom he had then basically conscripted to work for the man he was most loyal to. He still remembered when Saeris had beaten him to a pulp for it...and he was proud, fond of the other elf and what they had accomplished even separated. 

“Let’s go find our Captain.” He said, deep voice rumbling from his chest. 

Let’s go find our family.   @kurel-andiel

#The Lotus and the Shade #Family means nobody gets left behind #Or forgotten

[shaded-hawke]

[shaded-hawke]

Day 1 to 40

Despite her pleading and her begging, Kurel had taken himself to Boralus. If only he had been smarter. If only he knew what would happen on day 62 and day 189. He would have just stayed. He would have done everything different. He would have said all the things he refused to say. Taken all the risks he had otherwise been unwilling to take.

What Kurel, Saeris, Severin and the rest of The Gambit crew had never banked on was that while Boralus was a town built of ocean side, it was a town flooded with more ships than it had work for. At least work that did not involve contracting ones selves out to the Boy King’s Navy or the Proudmoore Admiralty. In Boralus there were a hundred Queen Gambits and captains no less infamous than the blindman himself. In the first week of their docking, they had managed to pick up all of one job. In the second week nothing. Third, nothing still. 

With supplies running low as well as their coffers, the local Kelp Club run by the Scrimshaw Gang hosted a regular evening brawl. The gimmick was that you had to knock out their largest member; a Kul’Tiran native by the name of Boras Colepathian. He was a notably robust man with a skull and body as thick and dense as any ship’s bulwark. 

From days 26 to 39, Kurel had entered every fight. Thirteen to be exact. On day 35, he had lost exactly thirteen times. Day fourteen was shaping up to be no different. 

“Just tell me when it’s over.” Severin pleaded. He could watch this no longer, so he dropped his head down onto his arms folded across a banister where he and Saeris stood witnessing the brutal beating of their beloved captain. For every punch Kurel landed, Boras barely seemed to feel it and followed immediately with a fast hook or uppercut. “I suppose if he does die. We could collect some sort of life insurance?” Severin added a few other options to the list. Which included a desperate result to cannibalism,

“We aren’ eatin’ ‘im! Do you know where tha’s been? We’d die.“ Saeris’ huffed. "Think 'e’d le’ me enter?”

Severin peeked up over the edge of his arms, resting his chin atop them to watch painfully  as Boras delivered his finale upon their dear, self-destructive comrade and dropped Kurel to the ground in a gasping heap of defeat. “I don’t think he could stop you, presently.”

The crowds cheered. Boras grinned his large toothy grin and pranced about the man-made circle to receive his winning pats and hand shakes and free food and drink. Like a pouting child, Severin pulled away from the banister to stand straight. “Flip a coin for who’s gonna haul him back to the ship and who’s gonna risk a pick pocket so we can eat something other than salt meat and rice?”

Saeris grumbled as he pulled out a few worn silver pieces from his pocket and offering them to Severin. “Take these an’ ge’ us somethin’ good. I’ll carry th’ idio’ back to th’ ship.” Even as he chastised Kurel from afar the words were said with exasperated affection. 

“Maybe pick us up some more silk thread? We’re gonna be needin’ i’ for his uh…” he gestured vaguely at Kurel’s…whole entity. With that he headed for the ring to go scrape what was left of their captain off the floor. “Well tha’ didn’ go th’ way we wanted i’.”

The slow shamble back to The Queen’s Gambit was one filled with a back and forth of miscommunication, different perspectives, and common ground. As it was being decided and argued over Kurel’s’ need to let himself rest for a day and recover as well as their shortage of work and a slow trickling loss of crew to other ships, a man had arrived. He introduced himself as Alister Star. A third party broker working for a wealthy man in Boralus who had a neglected home slowly decaying in the flooded heat swamps of the Wetlands. 

“Wetlands? Your clien’ knows tha’ whole place was underwater for like six months yeah? How long ago di’ he leave 'em?” It was the potential of a job, but Saeris wasn’t going to act desperate. That was a long trip for potentially nothing.

The man grinned and even laughed off a bit of nervousness. “I’m afraid I’m just the messenger. Sent to find capable men to go in. Extract some large pieces of family heirlooms left behind and bring them back here. To Boralus. The details beyond that I don’t know. 

"But, but if you and your crew are already signed? Scheduled? I’m not sure how this works, I can move on to the next ship down the line.”

“No.” Gurgled Kurel and he gestured sluggishly at Saeris to accept the job. Because something was better than nothing at this point.

The man handed over a packet, which was said to contain all the details of the items being requested for retrieval. It was a minor job. A short journey to and back for the payment of ten thousand coins.The sum should have been the first red flag. But like Saeris, Kurel was desperate to provide for what crew he had.

However, there was still the matter of Boras and Kurel’s pride. As he weakly got up from the crate he had been sitting on he instructed to Saeris that they would first sail all the way to Sunspire Port. He had need to meet with Mavas. 

“Wha’ do you nee’ Mavas for?” Saeris asked curiously.

“To fix my fuckin’ vision. So tha’ I can see tha’ fuck-Boras’ ou’line long enough to pu’ his ass on the groun’ for good.” Kurel shouted back, before he entered his cabin and closed the door.

@crymsynlotus @shaded-hawke @eilitheduskbringer

[shaded-hawke]

Fractured and Whole

Nine Months. 

The words swirled in his mind as he stepped from Eilithe’s home, the sun coiling over his pale flesh and stinging as if he had never been touched by it’s light in his life. Grimacing, he rolled his shoulders, ignoring the sting in favor of just basking, soaking in the heat to warm the marrow in his bones, to scare away the shadows and sink life back into his very marrow. 

Where have you been for nine months?

A fractured memory, stepping and dropping, hearing a clinking shatter, a flash of fel, and then he’d fallen and fallen into a void of his own making. 

Mavas looked out onto Dead Sun, breathing slowly, in...out...keep focus. New buildings had been constructed, others demolished. The sharp scent of salt and the humid breeze that caressed over his bare arms, ruffling the white open vest he was wearing. The fabric was odd, troll made? No, perhaps...

“You’re naked.” 

He had opened his eyes to peer up at a small child, of human origins. The girl smiled at him and dropped a pair of white pants and the vest onto his face before racing off through a field of wildflowers. He sat up, looking up into an impossibly blue sky, a sun that burned down upon a heated prairie. He could smell the warmed grass, could hear chittering insects hidden amongst the leaves and undergrowth. As he got dressed he frowned, following the path the girl had gone on. Things were wrong, his mind was telling him, things did not feel right. He did not feel the sun, he remembered the sun. He did not feel the grass, he remembered what grass felt like. 

“Allenis..” 

A tall matronly elven woman was staring at him in shock, another Sin’dorei beside her. Mavas stared, the name sliding ice to his very core. The two stood before him in the field, just as shocked to see him as he was of them. 

“Mother...da’.” he said softly. 

Then he was falling again. 

The dark haired Sin’dorei opened his eyes. He did not remember closing them. Letting out a slow breath, Mavas focused on the present, eyes narrowing as he took stock of himself. Everything felt proper, he felt as agile and correct as normal. Flicking his fingers out he felt honestly relieved as both the shadow magic that had curled into his soul, and it’s twin of fel erupted from his fingers, though the singing burn made him put it out fast. 

“Run.”

He was on a beach, and he did not like the fear that flicked in his mind. He had tried this so many times, flickering to and from this beach, to and from where he could see, smell and hear a muddled voice. The voice he wanted, the voice he needed. Nothing else had sounded familiar, all the other places he had landed tried to keep him, to subdue and soften the edges...this was not where he belonged. 

He could not understand the words as he ran at her, she kept distance, her and the other woman, always the same distance even as he sprinted, feeling the air heavy in his lungs, the sand beneath his feet like sharpened glass suddenly. A memory he was not supposed to see, a place he was not allowed, that was what this was. He was pressing beyond, he could feel the darkness threatening him from behind, trying to devour him and pull him away. He pushed harder, grunting now, the anger building as the sand felt like sludge, mud and vines gripping at his legs, invisible and insidious as he pushed forward. 

She was turning, she was finishing her last sentence. He had watched her go so many times, he had barely been able to find his way back again. A hundred different worlds, a hundred different people and places that had tried to keep him locked in their memories, their worlds, a flickering spirit that did not belong, could not belong, but they wanted him. Lunging as she moved to leave, he grabbed onto her in a bear hug, arms wrapping around her chest and arms and he buried his face into her hair, trying to meld into her as much as he could. 

The glass that ripped through his flesh was agonizing, the pain as she stepped seemingly without noticing her new addition away from whatever this was, a memory fragment perhaps? He was being ripped apart...he was unbecoming. 

Then he had been on the floor. Whole. 

Mavas took a quick breath as the phantom pain ached in his skin, the breaking through from the final soulstone to reality had created something he had not been ready for. A rebirth, his soul back in a remade body. The marks, those binding him to the captain that had vanished, still there, his world in dulled colors that made him yearn for the blinding sky above him once more. 

Nine months. 

@eilitheduskbringer @kurel-andiel

#Welcome back Mav #long term storylines #Soulstones are jerks

[shaded-hawke]

I was born a bastard. I was raised in a monastery. Abandoned at birth. Did you know that?The Holy Father appeared and he asked me to be the sword of the Church. To strike out its enemies wherever they were to be found. He asked me to do… terrible things. This is where faith has carried me.

Girolamo Riario 2.08 “The Fall From Heaven”  (via iraedei)

#AU Mav #Angels and demons

[shaded-hawke]

#mav feels called out

[shaded-hawke]

SLYTHERIN: “Relax. They’re not going to kill us. They’re going to TRY and kill us. And that is a very different thing.” –Steve Voake (The Dreamwalker’s Child)

#mav the slytherin

[shaded-hawke]

Look at how much Bellamy loves Murphy…

ft. my favorite underrated Bellamy smile.

I mean… just look at him.

#it me #he contributes sometimes #but mostly snark #especially shot

[shaded-hawke]

Me: Okay! Here’s that death scene we planned!

My character, who was created for the express purpose of dying and has now decided Not To: bold of you to assume I can die

#HEY LOOK IT MAV

[shaded-hawke]

                   they molded you into a monster 

                        sharpened your claws

                                         your fangs

                                      ripped out everything good and holy

                                  made you howl until your throat burned

                  maybe it’s time to show them what a mistake they’ve made

                          they should never have given you such a  b i t e