#secret Elune too if anyone spots her

[bread-elf]

DWC 2020 - Day 11

May not be suitable to some readers, viewer discretion is advised.

Passion

Post Warlords of Draenor, pre Legion prepatch

Curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed, wearing the same rags she's been in for four days, she didn't want to cope anymore.

A soft rap at the door to her cabin on the Greyshield's ship, Drax'ara Duskrunner sighed softly to himself. "Jiroki, it's me, I'm coming in."

The tall Kaldorei, with deep blue hair pulled back and swirling blue eyes, pushed his way into the room. She had secluded herself in here after her supposed wedding date with the Highborne Sasil, yet he never showed to claim his bride at the altar. Most of the other Shields in the mercenary group were too hesitant to approach, but Drake had volunteered to try and keep her under his watch, but more for personal reasons than for the Greyshields.

The room was a mess, Jiroki having spontaneous tantrums and having thrown and broken things, food on the desk he had last left previously remained untouched. At first he was startled not to see her right away, then realized where she was.

"You haven't eaten in days. I'm going to force feed you if you don't eat this now." The man had brought with him a plate of bread, cheese, and bacon, trying to entice her hungry she kept denying but also bringing something light. Jiroki gave no response, something he had learned for some time now she's prone to do when upset, and he got down on his knees beside her.

"Come on, up and at em." Setting the plate down he reaches over to help sit her up, Jiroki shifting slightly but for the most part unresponsive. He raises a brow, but thinks she must be exhausted, letting her body lean against his as she slumps towards him.

"Jiroki?" Something seemed off, and his gut clenched as it agreed with him. Bringing a hand to her cheek she tilts her head up, hearing the very faint of gasps breath, and beside her body he notices a small empty pouch.

The hairs on the back of his neck as shock starts to settle in, recognizing that pouch. Quickly he scoops Jiroki in his arms and tilts her around, setting her down on her back. He sees her face then, silver eyes half lidded and glazed over, her body overdosing. No no no-" His first instinct is to get it out of her, a bit familiar with drug usage. Quickly he rolls her onto her side and shoves two fingers down her throat. To his luck her body reacts as intended, her body gagging and starting to heave up the contents in her stomach. A grisly task, but Drake immediately scans the contents for any of her ‘medicine’ that he learned she frequently takes, and abuses. He could spot some of the white capsules she had recently swallowed that had barely started to dissolve, but there were bits that looked like she had taken some earlier… “How many did you fucking take?!” Drake growls out angrily as he starts fishing for his communication device, Jiroki coughing and remaining laying on her side while he access a specific frequency. “Draxia?! Draxia! I need you!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jiroki felt dull, out of her skin, not of this world. Did it work? She couldn’t tell, but slowly she was fading back to consciousness. Something cool soothed her skin, her whole body, and she felt weightless. That feeling became more physical as she can feel gentle laps of water touching her skin, being held aloft by someone as there were the faint mutterings of the Darnassian tongue. Slowly she peels open her eyes, a Kaldorei man with purple hair having a hand hovering over her body, and she could see the weavings of druidic magic around the hand. Not only that, she could see a luminescent glow from the waters she floated in. Turning her head she could recognize she now floated in a Moonwell, but how did she get here? “Drax’ara, she’s waking up.” His voice calls out, and Jiroki can start to recognize this druid as Draxia, one of Drake’s brothers. To the side she can hear some movement, and Drake himself comes into view as he peers over the edge of the Moonwell. “Gods, praise Elune…” Drake lets out a heavy breath, relieved that she seemed alright. Jiroki felt her head swim and she reached up to grab hold of it, feeling droplets of the water run down her face. “Can you sit up?” Draxia moved his hands to help her, having her sit upon a rock in the well so that she could keep her head above water. “That was certainly a close call. You need to stay in these waters for a time.” “How… How did I get here?” Jiroki knew for a fact she had been in the Swamp of Sorrows, where her ship was docked in Marshtide, yet the area around them felt like home. “Drax’ara brought you here, we are at the well in Duskwood.” The closest portal to the Emerald Dream, of course, Jiroki should have known. Drake continued to stand nearby, a hard look on his face as he stared at Jiroki, and Draxia noticed. “Brother, come and help me, would you?” Draxia asks. Drake gets taken aback by the sudden question, but he kicks off his boots and climbs into the well. The healing waters slosh a bit from Drake’s body submerging, but he comes in and gingerly takes Jiroki from Draxia, helping keep her steady. Once Draxia is freed from his burden he moves back, letting out a tired sigh and looking exhausted. “I need to rest…” Draxia says as he starts to climb out of the well. “That was very taxing. Watch her for an hour, make sure she doesn’t get out. If she doesn’t next hurt herself by getting an aneurysm…” Jiroki and Draxia didn’t exactly clash well, already the female starting to get riled up by his words and leering towards him, but she felt weak and remained put. Soon enough the druid had left, and she sat alone with Drake in the pools. “What were you thinking?!” Drake starts to scold her in a hushed whisper, she having anticipated it. “You could have been killed!” “That’s what I was trying to do before you came along!” Jiroki snaps back, glowering at him. “How dare you interfere! You had no right to!” “Bullshit I had no right to!” Drake snaps right on back, not afraid to yell at her in turn. “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met! Did you even think about how this would affect the Greyshields?! How it would affect me?!” “Why do you keep interfering in my life?! This isn’t what I wanted!” She hits his chest as she tries to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm grip on her shoulders, and her strike had so little power behind it anyways as her body recovers from her ordeal. “What do you want then?! Come on, Jiro! You can’t just… You mean so much to people!” His words falter; it was no secret between the two that he had deep feelings for her. “Is that why he didn’t even show up?! Because I matter so much?!” Jiroki couldn’t stop the sobs from coming. She had cried so much already the past few days, but it came wave after wave. “All this time I been- I been w-waiting for him and, and hanging on, j-just to not show up, on a day that HE picked?! What the fuck?!” Her fists hit his chest again but he just takes it, watching her carefully and with pity as she breaks down before him. “A-And you, you just k-keep getting in the way! Y-you even tried to t-take me from him! But-” It all seemed so silly now, his little pursuits for her while she remained engaged, diligently brushing him off in hopes of something she thought would be better. “Y-You don’t have the right to interfere!” “I think out of everyone I most certainly have that right.” Drake also had a stubborn streak like Jiroki, which resulted in his romantic pursuit of her in the first place. He liked a challenge. But as time went on he got far more than he bargained for, developing deeper feelings for her then he could say he’d had for anyone he’s ever met. His hands come up to cup her face as she cries. “You still have so much to live for. I’m sorry he did that, he’s the most insane person to leave someone like you at the altar, I would kill to have you. But please don’t do this to yourself, I know you’ve lost a lot, but we’d be losing so much if you killed yourself. I’d be losing so much. Look at me, please.” Her gaze had stayed downcast, but he gently coaxes her to look up, and her shimmering eyes do as such while her face is scrunched up in sobs. “I-It hurts s-so much…” Jiroki hiccups, his thumbs wiping away fresh tears that come down. “I know, I know it does…” Leaning forward he rests his forehead against hers, and her eyes shut too as she sobs some more, though his hands don’t leave her face. They sit in silence in the healing waters of the Moonwell as she lets out her emotions, though the waters slowly give back her strength as their Mother Moon resides high in the sky. “Y-You’re stupid…” Jiroki hiccups once again, and once more diverting some of her anger at him. “You c-could’ve gone for, for anyone, a-and you had to bother me…” That makes him chuckle however, his blue eyes half lidded as he grins softly at her. “What can I say? I’m a stubborn man.” His thumbs gently run back and forth over her tear streaked skin, and soon enough her own eyes open. For a time they stare at each other, unable to pull their glances away. But something lures her in. Perhaps his charm, his looks, his personalities that’s a little similar to hers. Or perhaps it was his devoted passion to her that ignited her own, and she begins to lean in. Already having been holding himself back, he takes the cue right away and meets her, their lips meeting for a tender kiss. And the kiss deepens from there, Drake gently pulling him into her lap to hold close the woman he had almost lost, and they stay tangled together for the rest of the night. (( @daily-writing-challenge​ ))

#stories

[fel-temptation]

Character Sheet: Korrinth

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name:  Korrinth Vareesa Dawnshatter

Reason or Meaning of Name: Her middle name is a famous namesake. Her mother gave it to her not only in recognition of a Quel’dorei hero but also to remind her of their roots.

Character’s Nickname/Alias: Korri

Reason for Nickname/Alias: A shortened version of her name.

Birth Date: July 17th

Physical appearance

Age:  Mid nineties

How old does he/she appear: Relatively young yet weathered

Weight: 140lbs

Height: 5′10

Body build: Athletic, voluptuous, dancer-esque figure

Shape of face: Angler, boxy, and heart shaped all mixed together

Eye color: Literal fel-flames

Glasses or contacts: N/a

Skin tone: Olive & sunkissed

Distinguishing marks: Fel runes etched over her arms, shoulders, chest, abdomen, hips, thighs, and shins 

Predominant features: Horns

Hair color: Deep crimson

Type of hair:  Long & wavy, reaches down past her shoulders

Hairstyle:  Usually in a bun

Voice:  Melodic & sultry

Overall Attractiveness: 10/10 (Biased opinion). Pretty easy on the eyes.

Physical Disabilities: Can only produce Fel magic

Usual Fashion of Dress: Tattered leather vestments, tank tops and leather pants is where she lives

Favorite Outfit: N/a

Jewelry or Accessories: A few piercings scattered around, mostly on the long part of her ears. A void-walkers binding fitted and worn as an armlet. Sometimes a moon pendent on a simple string or a simple choker with a red gem. 

Personality

Good Personality Traits: She’s fairly friendly within reason. Also studious and knowledgeable, especially in her fields of interest. She has a sharp and curious mind and isn’t afraid to speak it.

Bad Personality Traits: She embodies self-pity, she’s very easy to set off, emotionally sensitive, overly judgmental, gets jealous easily, and is somewhat paranoid.

Mood Character is Most Often In: Indifferent and/or hungry

Sense of Humor: Sarcastic teasing. She has a decent sense of humor if the jokes are in her ballpark.

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Magic

Character’s Greatest Fear: Becoming a monster

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?  Finding a cursed book.

Character Is Most at Ease When:  Whenever she’s in some type of serene setting or receives positive emotional support.

Most Ill at Ease When: Around strangers, people outside of her caste (Mostly nobility or more elegant people)

Enraged When: Dealing with loss of something she cares about. Though I wouldn’t really count out other sources, she’s not exactly level headed.

Depressed or Sad When: Always

Life Philosophy: Existence is pain.

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: A reset button  

Character’s Soft Spot: Broken creatures

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others?: Usually the focus of the affection.  

Greatest Strength: Adaptability

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Emotions 

Biggest Regret: Becoming an Illidari

Minor Regret: Binding with a Succubi 

Biggest Accomplishment: Surviving Antorus 

Minor Accomplishment: Become prominent in Fel markings, providing them to several of her kin

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Finding a cursed artifact that she didn’t turn into the proper authority on the matter. Character’s Darkest Secret: She’s responsible for her villages death (Murky territory, she’s guilty by association)  

Does Anyone Else Know?: No  

Goals

Drives and Motivations: Survival, redemption, saving her brother  

Immediate Goals: Feeding herself, finding a place to sleep, studying demonic possession, and eradicating demonic forces left over from the invasion.

Long Term Goals: Saving her brother

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: That’s the big question

How Other Characters Will Be Affected:  Someone might die, and or be redeemed. Its very up in the air.

Past

Hometown: Dalaran (Outskirts/rural territory in Hillsbrad)

Type of Childhood: Good, well cared for and nurtured

Pets: A feline familiar

First Memory: Watching her father rearrange a bookcase with a spell

Most Important Childhood Memory: Casting her first rune

Childhood Hero: Aegwynn

Dream Job: Guardian of Tirisfal (When she was little)

Education: Masters (Degree equivalent) in several magical fields 

Religion: Reveres Elune but not overly religious 

Finances: Decently well off

Present

Current Location: Wandering Azeroth 

Currently Living With: Whatever wildlife is near her at the time she makes camp 

Pets: None 

Religion: None (Still slightly reveres/respects Elune)

Occupation: An out of work demon hunter 

Finances: Dirt poor 

Family

Siblings:  One twin brother

Relationship With Them:  Not so great

Spouse: N/a

Relationship With Them: N/a

Children: N/a

Relationship With Them: N/a

Other Important Family Members:  Possibly some scattered cousins left in Quel’thalas

Favorites

Color: Purple

Least Favorite Color: Yellow

Music: Jazz/classical

Food: Any

Literature: If it’s not runic/magical, then fiction & romance

Form of Entertainment: Books

Expressions: A grin

Mode of Transportation: Portals

Most Prized Possession: An enchanted grimoire 

Habits

Hobbies: Sketching, reading, studying

Plays a musical instrument?: She can sing fairly well 

Plays a sport?: None 

How he would spend a rainy day?: Looking for some place dry/reading 

Spending Habits: Conservative, until she has a small sum- then she’ll splurge  

Smokes: Occasionally 

Drinks: Occasionally

Other Drugs: Sometimes if available

What does he/she do too much of?: Brood 

What does he/she do too little of?: Trying to better her situation

Extremely Skilled At: Runic magic

Extremely Unskilled At: Wielding warglaives 

Nervous Tics: Tensing & lip twitches 

Usual Body Posture: Upright & relaxed 

Mannerisms: Sultry & sly

Peculiarities: She sometimes doesn’t know how to react to social situations and will just sort of stand there vacantly.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist?: Pessimist

Introvert or Extrovert?: Somewhat of a mix (Due to demonic) 

Daredevil or Cautious?: Cautious 

Logical or Emotional?: Also a mix (Due to demonic) 

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat?: Messy yet organized  

Prefers Working or Relaxing?: Studying over all  

Confident or Unsure of Himself?: Confident in certain things, mostly unsure however.  

Animal lover?: Indifferent (Enjoys cats)

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Horrible usually

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Broken

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “A girl who made several mistakes that cost her dearly. She gave away her life to right those wrongs, but that failed too. Everything she touches or will touch turns to Fel, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: Tenacity

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: She wouldn’t be able to pick just one 

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: Her hair 

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Any of the demonic augmentations.

How does the character think others perceive him/her? A monster

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? That whole tethered to the demonic thing

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: Envious, jealous of their happiness and or chances in life

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: Opinions no, emotions yes (Unless pushed). 

Person Character Most Hates: Herself

Best friend(s): N/a

Love interest(s): N/a

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: ....N/a

Person Character Feels Responsible For: Her brother Relivastus

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: Most people at first

Person Character Openly Admires: Khadgar

Person Character Secretly Admires: Jaina Proudmoore

Art Creds: YourImaginaryTwin

#Character sheet #Korrinth

[indiikaa]

The Missive

Beware: Blood and Violence ahead.

Characters: Indiikaa, Wooka, Moonlight, Some sad Orcs who got what was coming to them.

Darkshore was quiet this eve, but it wouldn't last long. Rumors had been circulating through the trees that a War Pack would be coming through, and that was why he was waiting. Orcs were not known for their intelligence; most would rather swing an axe than talk things over, and they fought like starving wolves when there wasn't enough to go around.

He had sat for hours within the branches of the tree, basking in the light of the moon as it came through the leaves. Elune was furious at what had happened to her lands, but he hoped the goddess had her back turned to him for this night.  From where he sat in the tree, he could see the constellation of Ysera, wings spread wide over the land, and he couldn't help but look away. What would she have to say about who he was now? What he had done? Would she be proud of him?

Now wasn't the time to dwell on the past. A breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, and his eyes closed for a moment as the breeze gently touched his face. It was as if the forest was telling him what was coming - it brought the smell of Orc and of fire. He knew they were close, but he was prepared. He was always prepared.

Indiikaa knew he couldn't take an entire War Pack of Orcs, but he only had to take out the lead Orc, Raggar the Axe-Thrower. Raggar was a Mag'har Orc, a fierce Warrior that had killed several of his own. Raggar also held the Horde missive for their next invasion of Darkshore, and Indiikaa intended on taking it for his own. Anything to help screw the Horde over, after all.

The sound of something landing in the tree above him caused him to open his amber eyes, and he looked up, seeing the dark-feathered owl he had come to know as Moonlight. She was his ample messenger, always sending messages for him to and fro, and Indiikaa wouldn't trust anyone other than her for what he had planned.

He had seen his father take out an entire War Band, but Indiikaa had to remember that he was not his father, nor was he his mother. He was only who he was, not a creature of legend like his parents; though many of his THero'shan believed him to be.  

"There he is, Shan'do Indiikaa! I heard he took out a thousand demons!" he had overheard that gem in the Dreamgrove one day as he and Willow had been on a walk. "Did you know Indiikaa can turn himself into a dragon?!" came another one day in Moonglade. Though he enjoyed hearing the preposterous rumors, Indiikaa had no care for them, though they did inflate his overinflated ego.

He ran a hand over the braided part of his hair, watching as Moonlight turned her head around to scan for predators. She climbed down the branches and to his outstretched arm, handing him the message she held within her beak. He took it, giving her a gentle head rub. From the handwriting, he knew it had to be from Willow. He placed it in his pocket to read after, looking to Moonlight.

"If anything should happen to me, you know what to do." he whispered to the owl, who clicked her beak towards him. He nodded to her as he heard talking from far off, which caught his attention.

The War Pack was at least five Orcs, all large, ranging from Red Mag'har to Green Orcs; all riding the Battle Wolves. In the centre of them was Raggar, atop a black wolf that looked ready to attack. Indiikaa had thought of a way to get rid of the wolves, and he glanced down to the bushes below the tree to make sure his secret weapon was still there.

Good, it was.

He waited until he could see the Orcs on the road clearly from his hiding spot before transforming into his feral. Over the years, he had been several things: A blue Night Saber from Darkshore, a Cheetah from the Barrens, but now, he was the beautiful Bark-skinned lion-like creature the Fangs of Ashmane had granted him. He was quick to keep himself hidden, dropping down from the tree without a sound. He waited unti lthey were clsoe before moving out into the road, sitting and facing the War Pack.

He could hear their Orcish words slip from their mouths as they stopped; some even appeared to be gesturing to him to move. He sat still, however, eyes transfixed on Raggar in the middle. One of the orcs - a green one most likely from Durotar - had climbed off his mount and was walking to shoo him, but he sat as if a statue.

"Raggar! It does not move!" the Orc told the leader.

"Then make it move!" Raggar bellowed. "Cleve it with your axe, it is a stupid animal if it does not move when danger is around,"

When the axe was drawn and raised as if to scare him, Indiikaa did not scare. He enjoyed this game: Orcs were always the same, stupid morons and Trolls? Well, they were a little smarter than the Orcs were.

"Move, cat!" the Orc growled.

"Make me." Indiikaa replied.

The Orc seemed confused for a moment, turning back to the rest of the War Pack.

"The thing spoke to me!"

"Impossible,  cats do not speak." Raggar replied.

"But it did! It spoke to me! I told it to move, and it replied to me!"

"Perhaps  Dahran has gone insane from the fumes?" one of the Orc's sniggered, but Raggar seemed to be focusing on something.

"Halt your sniggering, Urock. Something smells around here, and it is not the Naga to the South."

The larger Orc climbed off his wolf, walking forward towards the one named Dahran, stopping when he saw the cat. Up close, the cat looked fake, as if it were a totem come to life. No cat he knew was made of bark and branches with a mane of green leaves, but here was one, sitting in front of them.

"What kind of magic is this?" Raggar growled, taking his axe form it's sheath on his belt. The other Orcs had climbed off their mounts, following their leader as they had been trained to. They formed a semi-circle around the cat, watching as its tail swished and it's gaze moved from each of them.

"Orcs are not very smart, are they?" Indiikaa asked, eyes darting from one Orc to the next. Of course, they couldn't understand him when he spoke this time, but someone else could.

A deep growling came from the bushes, the wolves of the Orcs began to growl back. They were agitated, scared of whatever was inside the bushes. Indiikaa knew that the growl was not meant for them, it was meant for him. He turned to look over, nodding.

In a white flash, a wolf several times larger than the tallest Orc in the War pack bounded out of the bushes, lunging towards the other wolves. The wolf with fur as white as the snow, but with the markings of Darnassus bounded down the path, scaring away the other wolves. The Orcs, dumbfounded by this sudden ambush, attempted to attack the white wolf, but they found their feet had been rooted to the spot.

"As I said, Orcs are not very smart." Indiikaa smirked, leaping onto one of the smaller Orcs. The Orc cried out in pain as Indiikaa ripped his face apart, biting down onto his head and crushing his skull between his powerful jaws. The Orc's dead body slumped over, Indiikaa leaping to the next unfortunate victim.

The scene was chaos for the Orcs - a white wolf guarding their retreat meant they had to face this creature before them. They found themselves cornered, and quickly losing their forces to whatever this creature was. Raggar threw his axe at the creature as it went to lunge for Urock, but he was too late. Urock hit the ground, dead, before the creature came bounding for him next. The Orc Captain grabbed one of the fallen Orc's axes, throwing it at the creature, which jumped into the air.

Indiikaa quickly transformed back into his true form, landing gracefully yet forcefully on the ground. It sent a small shockwave through the ground as he landed, his Warglaves of Ashmane in hands. The three Orcs that remained looked between themselves, as if they couldn't comprehend what happened before their eyes.

"It is a Demon Hunter!" Urock insisted.

"No, that is a Druid!" Dahran replied, but Raggar stopped their blubbering,

"Whatever it is, it is trying to follow what Malfurion did to the Caravan before us" He spoke. "Show him we are not weak like they were!"

"I'll stop you right there," Indiika grinned, Warglave raised to them. Roots tangled arond their feet, keeping them locked in place. "Now, that caravan? They were very weak, and that is why my father killed all but one. Now, when I'm done with you, you'll wish you were them." His voice was cold.

"I know who you are," Raggar spoke. It had taken him a moment to realize, but he knew. "You are the  one they talk about in Orgrimmar, the one who tried to kill Saurfang." Raggar looked to his comrades. "Taking him prisoner will make Sylvanas proud of us. Take him alive."

"I'd rather take you dead, seeing as I'm the one with the giant wolf, and the powers of nature on my side, but who's counting?" Indiikaa smirked, eyes changing colours form amber to a fel-green. The tattoos etched into his skin began to light with the same colour of green, the Warglaves beginning to glow the same.

"Who is he, Raggar?"

"He is Indiikaa Stormrage, Son of Malfurion and Tyrande. He is not a Druid, nor a Demon Hunter, but something between the two."

"I prefer Demon Druid." Indiikaa smirked, throwing one of the Warglaives. Raggar and Dahran ducked, but Urock did not. His head fell separately from his body as the glaive returned to its master. The roots released the Orcs, and Dahran made a run for it, leaving Raggar to fight Indiikaa.

The two sparred metal-to-metal, Indiikaa wielding the Warglaives with precision and grace, while Raggar attacked maliciously with his axe. Undaunted, the two ignored the bellows of pain coming from Dahran, who was being ripped apart by the white wolf that had caught him.

Raggar's axe flew off to the side, pushed out of his hands by Indiikaa's glaives. The druid then pushed the Orc to the ground, using the roots to once again hold him in place while he searched for what he had come to get.

"You and I both know you have the missive on you, where is it?" Indiikaa growled, raising one of his glaives up to the Orc's chin.

"I will rip you to shreds before I give you anything."

"Is that what Thrall would want? I know that is something Garrosh would have wanted, but remember where the Horde started." Indiikaa grinned.

"The Horde started because of shitheads like you attacking our people!"

"No, Gul'Dan attacked your people. The Kaldorei had no problems with the Orcs until they invaded our lands and killed Cenarius. For that, I show no mercy to Orcs that come into my lands, and try to destroy it. Especially Orcs like you."

"Burn in hell filthy forest dweller!"

"Remind me to feed you to Wooka feet first." Indiikaa smirked, pushing the blade of the glaive against the Orc's throat. "Where. Is. The. Missive?"

"Eat shit."

"I'm sorry, I don't eat Orc." he replied, taking his hand and placing it on the Orc's head. There was a blinding light from whereh e touched, and the Orc yelped in surprise pain. Indiikaa removed his hand shortly after, looking to Wooka behind him.

"His wolf, find it. What I need is in its saddle bag, bring it back here to me." He instructed. The white wolf seemed to nod, bounding down the path in search of the wolves. Indiikaa stood, watching as Wooka disappeared into the distance. He was unaware of Raggar's escape effort, however. The Orc had been sawing through the roots the moment he had been bound, distracting the Kaldorei.

It only took a few moments before he lunged out of the weakened vines, tackling Indiikaa to the ground. Indiikaa was taken by surprise, but he was quick to react; blasting a powerful wrath spell into the Orc's eyes, blinding him. Raggar, blinded, felt around for his Axe, finding it imbed into one of the nearby trees. Indiikaa  prepared for another attack, but was distracted by the sound of WOoka in the distance, howling that he had foun what he was looking for.

Because of this, Raggar saw his oppertunity, and threw his axe once again, aiming for Indiikaa's head. However, Indiikaa sensed the axe coming towards him, and moved - but it was too late to miss the axe completely. The blade sliced a large gash into his forehead before coming to a stop on the ground behind him, causing Indiikaa to stumble for a moment. He clutched his head where the gash had apeared, blood running through his fingers and down his face, turning his vision red.

Anger filled the Druid as he looked up to the Orc. A sneer came to his face as his eyes filled with a gaze that would have petrified any in its path.

"You really are fucking stupid, aren't you?" He growled, throwing the Warglaives to the ground. He began to walk towards the Orc, moving his hands to his sides before raising one. The ground around Raggar begna to glow the same fel-green colour as Indiikaa's tattoos.

"I was going to let you live, to tell them that not just Malfurion was patrolling these forests. But I have a better idea." He voice was cold, and the mark of the Illidari came to his forehead. He clutched his fist before letting go, the ground rumbling.

"You will be a warning not to fuck with the Demon Druid." He growled.

The ground beneath Raggar exploded with Fel Energy, the Orc crying out in pain. Indiikaa's sneer turned into a malicious grin, watching as the Orc suffered wihtin the fel fire.

When the screaming stopped, Indiikaa knew the Orc was gone from this world. He unclenched his fist, lowering his hand to see his handy work. The Orc's body was imbed into a pillar of Fel Crystal, trapped in a position of agony. It was written on his face, head tilted up towards the sky as if he had been searching for release from the torment.

Wooka's whine for attention took Indiikaa's gaze form the creation before him, and he walked over, giving the wolf a pat. "Good job, Wooka, thank you for helping ,e" he whispered, petting and scratching the wolf. Wooka whimpered slightly, sniffing at Indiikaa's wound, which still bled profusely. "I will be fine, my friend, nothing Mother cannot repair," he smiled, taking the missive from the saddle bag Wooka had taken from the wolf. "Now... I may need your help getting back, think you can help me just a moment more?" He asked, climbing onto the back of the wolf. Wooka made a barking noise before bounding off to Bashal'Aran.

#TW: Gore #TW: Blood #TW: Violence #WoWrp #Warcraft Rp #Warcraft writing #Warcraft #Writing #Holy crap it's been forever since I did a FIclit

[risrielthron]

Risri Elthron

Tagged by @summysparklesprocket​

Character’s Full Name:  Risri Elthron (formerly Kal’serrar) Reason or Meaning of Name:  Risri was named after a place important to her parents. (OOCly, I got it from a name generator and have used it ever since) Character’s Nickname/Alias: Ris, Big Bear Reason for Nickname/Alias: shortened form of Risri, @skystoneseat​ give everyone she likes a nickname, she dubbed Risri Big Bear for the obvious reasons. :) Birth Date: April 1st

Physical appearance

Age:  406 How old does he/she appear: Upper 20′s Lower 30′s Weight:  average Height: little shorter than the normal Kaldorei Body build: athletic Shape of face: oval Eye color: Silver Glasses or contacts: Neither Skin tone: pale purple Distinguishing marks: claw mark tattoos on her face Predominant features: like most Kaldorei her ears and shining eyes, along with the tattoos on her face. Hair color: Violet Type of hair:  long and straight, soft to the touch Hairstyle:  She almost always is wearing it down straight Voice:  a soft accent Overall Attractiveness: Like most Kaldorei, she has a look that many have said is attractive. She thinks of herself as average. Physical Disabilities: None. Usual Fashion of Dress: She is most often in comfortable clothes. Dresses, skirts, or a comfortable pair of pants. Favorite Outfit: A blue, green, and gold dress. Jewelry or Accessories: She has a silver bracelet on her left wrist, a ruby necklace and a crystal that she wears frequently.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: She is a curious, intelligent, and kind Kaldorei. She has no trouble initiating conversation with people from all walks of life. Her natural curiosity made her an excellent interviewer. Bad Personality Traits: She can be overprotective and some have said she is overbearing in her concern for those she sees as under her protection.  Mood Character is Most Often In: She is most often happy and pleasant. Sense of Humor: She finds humor in those that are sassy or sarcastic. While she rarely lets that side show, she appreciates it.Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Flying Character’s Greatest Fear: being mind controlled What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? She has experienced some of this already, the death of those she loves is something that she has a hard time with. If anyone in her inner circle were to die she would be devastated. Character Is Most at Ease When: She’s with those she cares about or out in nature. Most Ill at Ease When: Underground or when someone is exceptionally rude. Enraged When: Someone threatens her loved ones. Depressed or Sad When: When she has failed to protect someone. Life Philosophy: Do what you can to be a good person at all costs. If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: All those she cares for were happy. Character’s Soft Spot:  children, gnomes, animals Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others?  If you see her around any of those you might sense it. Greatest Strength: Her intellect/creativity, and her ability to talk and be friends with anyone. Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Risri believes that inherently people are good and want to do good. This can lead her to trusting in people she shouldn’t. Biggest Regret:  Not selling the paper sooner. Minor Regret:  Allowing the Warden to get under her skin and maker her angry. Biggest Accomplishment: Running the paper successfully. Minor Accomplishment: Opening the photography studio. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Allowing her Sentinel unit to die. Character’s Darkest Secret:  She has beserker like tendenacies. Does Anyone Else Know? A small group of people.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: To share her curiosity with others, to be a good person. Immediate Goals: Keep the studio profitable. Long Term Goals: Find a more permanent cure for her fel corruption residual effects. How the character plans to accomplish these goals: The studio she is feeling is going well, she could market it more but at present she is enjoying the slower pace. Her longer term goals, Sky is helping with. How Other Characters Will Be Affected:  Hopefully people have some great pictures to share their memories with others. Her anger hasn’t gotten unmanageable yet so the pressure to find the cure has not become pressing but when it does others might be shocked or put off by her emotions.

Past

Hometown: Near Feathermoon, Feralas Type of Childhood: Well-loved, happy for the most part Pets: Flutter First Memory: Her father’s voice as he read to her. Most Important Childhood Memory: Finding Flutter’s egg. Childhood Hero: Tyrande, Shandris, her father. Dream Job: Right now, running the studio is pretty close. Perhaps someday to go back to teaching. Education: formal schooling, Sentinel training, Druid training Religion: Worships Elune and the Wild Gods. Finances: For a Kaldorei, she is well off. She is not frivolous with her spending, and selling the paper gave her a nest egg that she has invested in the studio.

Present

Current Location: Stormwind Currently Living With: She lives with Dragaur in his apartment in the Mage District. Occupation:  Business Owner of A Moment in Time Photography Studio Finances: Upper Middle Class

Family

Siblings: None Relationship With Them: n/a Spouse: None Relationship With Them: n/a Children: none. Relationship With Them: n/a Other Important Family Members:  Alistra, her mother; Tara, her aunt; a few cousins

Favorites

Color: Teal Least Favorite Color: chartreuse Music: Soft instrumental Food: pastry. Literature: Everything. Form of Entertainment: reading, writing, spending time with Dra, taking photographs. Expressions: soft chuckles Mode of Transportation: Flight Most Prized Possession: Her father’s staff.

Habits

Hobbies: Photography, alchemy. Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport? No How they would spend a rainy day? Either outside in it, or curled up with a good book. Spending Habits: Frugal and cautious. Smokes: never. Drinks: Rarely Other Drugs: Rarely What does he/she do too much of? overthink / over-analysis a situation. What does he/she do too little of? Sleep. Extremely Skilled At: Photography, alchemy, shifting to the forms she knows, being compassionate, cooking. Extremely Unskilled At: Mechanical or technical things Nervous Tics: will spin her bracelet Usual Body Posture: Standing straight. Mannerisms: Happy, smiling, genuine. Peculiarities: maintains a serene smile with only her eyebrows giving away any clue to her emotional state (especially with strangers)

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Optimist. Introvert or Extrovert? a mix Daredevil or Cautious? Cautious Logical or Emotional? a mix Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Methodical and Neat Prefers Working or Relaxing? a mix of both Confident or Unsure of Himself?  confident most of the time. Animal lover? Yes

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Outwardly appears confident, inwardly she may over worry. One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Kind Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “The world moves at such a fast pace, I want to capture it and share glimpses into those moments that pass by so quickly. I try to be sincere and kind to any and all I meet because you never know what is hiding behind the smile.” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Her ability to talk calmly with almost anyone. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Her tendency to be overprotective. What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her smile. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? She’s happy with her appearance truthfully. How does the character think others perceive him/her? Standoffish or hard to approach, some because of her fame as the owner of the paper and some because she is a Kaldorei. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? To be more discerning without giving up the trust or faith in people.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: That most are just trying to live thier life and be good. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often. Person Character Most Hates: Elyza Morrowbranch @wardennerd Best friend(s): Sky Stoneseat @skystoneseat. Dragaur @silentasagrave, Selise Graves @selisegraves, Jazimina Stratford. Love interest(s): Dragaur Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Her mother or Sky or Selise Person Character Feels Responsible For: Sky Person Character Feels Awkward Around: noone Person Character Openly Admires: Selise and Sky Person Character Secretly Admires: Masnira @enigmatic-elegance

#risri #updated

[pettyelves]

Long Ass Chart

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Arbiter Eilithe Duskbringer Reason or meaning of name: OOCly I love Gaelic names- icly, her mother just liked the name-- the surname is of importance to all Duskbringers, because it is one they chose.  Character’s nickname: E, Lithy, Eili, Eye- PS she hates them all Reason for nickname: To irritate her, she presumes. Birth date: May 12th

Physical appearance

Age: Somewhere between three and four thousand How old does he/she appear: By human comparison, early-mid thirties Weight: 150/160lbs Height: 6′ Body build: Toned Shape of face: Square Jaw Eye color: Deep Gray Glasses or contacts: Nope Skin tone: Getting more tan now that she lives in Dead Sun, still mostly pale Distinguishing marks: Scars- Claw-like slashes on her shoulders, gunshot scar on her right side, slashes on her stomach, various minor ones on her legs. Tattoos- Strange mark on her left wrist, an upward facing moon cupping a circle between her brows, Kaldorei mark of the Owl, a small spider in the middle of her spine, a serpent vweaving through peonies on her right forearm. Predominant features: Weird eyes, pierced elfie ears Hair color: Midnight Blue-Black Type of hair: Wild curls Hairstyle: Down usually Voice: Raspy and low Overall attractiveness: She’s purdy good looking- bit rougher from the neck down. Physical disabilities: Weak ass ribs. Usual fashion of dress:  Black- Leather or loose cloth (and often see-through dresses)

Favorite outfit: There’s a black chiffon dress she wears a lot, feels the most comfortable in loose pants and a tank top. Jewelry or accessories: Earrings, an emerald ring on her right ring finger, daggers or short swords.

Personality

Good personality traits: Loyal, Generous (usually), Protective, Loving, Cunning  Bad personality traits: 100% Bitchiness, Ill-tempered, Paranoid, Petty, Stubborn, Unsure Mood character is most often in:  A very quiet depression that she’s carefully keeping herself from plunging into  Sense of humor: Queen of Petty™ Character’s greatest joy in life: Her children, The Family Character’s greatest fear: The unknown, Uncertainty. Why? Because she feels she can survive anything so long as she knows it is coming. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Losing Eilonwy would destroy her, Losing her ‘adopted’ An’Diel children, Kurel breaking their deal, Losing anyone from her inner circle. Character is most at ease when: When everyone is getting the fuck along and making money Most ill at ease when: She is being questioned. Enraged when: (By) Cowardice, Hurting kids, Slavers, Violators, She makes a mistake Depressed or sad when: She makes a mistake, she feels hopeless.  Priorities: Her daughter, Her Family, Dead Sun Harbor, Her Businesses Life philosophy: ‘Ya’Til-Anath’ - which is just the made up elf version of ‘Momento Mori’- ‘Remember that you must die’ If granted one wish, it would be:  A prosperous family Why? Because that means everyone would be getting the fuck along Character’s soft spot:  Children, Slaves, the poor and hungry Is this soft spot obvious to others?  Hugely Greatest strength:  ‘Rabid’ will Greatest vulnerability or weakness:  Easily exploited  Biggest regret:  How she faked ‘The Spiders’ death Minor regret: Waste of Time Biggest accomplishment:  Her children and her empire (AKA Dead Sun) Minor accomplishment: Bleeding secrets out of a proverbial Fort Knox of a Pirate Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about:  She dead ass went running down a dock to try and help someone whilst they were being attack and proceeded to knock herself out cold via tripping and faceplanting Why? She’s an old ass rogue that, because of my crit fail, busted her ass infront of goddamn everyone. Character’s darkest secret:  The manner in which her pseudonym ‘The Spider’ was executed Does anyone else know?  Yes, the people who created what stood in Eilithe’s place for execution.

Goals

Drives and motivations: ‘Still have things to do’ Immediate goals: Fix what she did to Kurel, Fix her relationships with Recke and Elle-- also GETTING THE FUCK OUT of wherever the Golden Orb took her Long term goals: Cash Money $$$, Expanding she and Kurel’s businesses. How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Ways...Mysterious ways How other characters will be affected: Kurel will be stronger, Recke and Elle will hopefully be happier. DSH will be richer

Past

Hometown: A secluded village in Feralas Type of childhood: Happy, then sad for a bit, then okay Pets: Some random cat First memory: Learning to swing a dagger, ‘the right way’ with her mom. Most important childhood memory:  The death of her parents, but also all the teachings that they passed to her. Why? Eilithe was very close with her parents, and the way she was raised in that village shaped the code for Mortua Sol Childhood hero: Her mother. Dream job: Livin’ it Education: Various teachers over the years Religion: Not Focused on, but Elune Finances: Lived in a bargaining society, very little need for coin- but they had some

Present

Current location: Somewhere-- before the plot? Dead Sun or Stormwind Currently living with: Kurel An’Diel, Eilonwy Duskbringer, Karkah An’Diel, Diana Moonfeather-- and on the same property are Xavier Sunshadow and Saeris Blackblade Pets: Kaz’Alarion, a cat that comes and goes as he damn well pleases Religion: Voodoo Occupation: Arbiter of Dead Sun Harbor, Businesswoman Finances:  Okay, but not as good as they were

Family

Mother: Meridianna (Lu’Cerne) Duskbringer Relationship with her:  Very close Father: Valedinel Stormsinger Relationship with him: Close, but not as close as with mom Siblings: (From Oldest to Youngest) An’Set Duskbringer, Sulerion Duskbringer, (Eilithe), Moltai Duskbringer Relationship with them: Much love, Tolerant- mostly hate, Doesn’t know who Moli exists Spouse: (sort of) Kurel An’Diel Relationship with him/her: Carefully Co-existing, comfortable Children: (Oldest to Youngest) Threshad Duskbringer (Missing), Ayoden Duskbringer (presumed dead), Eilonwy Duskbringer--- (Under her care) Karkah An’Diel, Xavier Sunshadow/An’Diel Relationship with them: Close with Eilonwy, Trying to get close to Karkah, deeply devoted to Xavier Other important family members: 

Favorites

Color: Black, Red Least favorite color: Yellow Music: Tribal, Drums Food: Dumplings Literature: Fairytales Form of entertainment: Reading, Drinking Expressions: “Get Fucked.” Mode of transportation: ‘Doorways’ aka Portals Most prized possession: Her mother’s daggers, an anklet

Habits

Hobbies: Drinking, Event Going, Event Planning, Making Money, Sparring, Sunbathing Plays a musical instrument? A little piano/lute Plays a sport? Sparring How he/she would spend a rainy day: Sit on the patio and read- or play in it with Eilonwy Spending habits: Hands out gold to people like it is candy sometimes Smokes: A ton Drinks: Often Other drugs: In moderation What does he/she do too much of? People pleasing What does he/she do too little of?  Eating Extremely skilled at: Master of Thrown weapons, daggers, Exploiting technicalities Extremely unskilled at: Letting shit go Nervous tics: Nervously petting- as it a repetitive motion over and over, usually someone’s hair. Pacing. Usual body posture: Loose and probably arrogant  Mannerisms: Varies by who is around her Peculiarities: Doesn’t like to eat in public

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Pessimist Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert that’s lowkey and Introvert Daredevil or cautious? This is situational Logical or emotional? Also situational, usually emotional if it concerns herself Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Oraganized disorcer Prefers working or relaxing? Working Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Situational Animal lover? 'Meh’

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: She kind of wishes she could just ‘shut off’ her emotions One word the character would use to describe self: Water One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: ‘Eilithe Duskbringer is never going to stop.’ What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Cunning What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Emotional What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Eyes What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Scars How does the character think others perceive him/her: Depends on who--anything from an unworthy leader to the greatest mother ever What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Nothing, ever.

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: She’s trying to adapt ‘Trust until they prove untrustworthy’ mindset Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Almost always Person character most hates: A list has many names Best friend(s): Strixena Draconis, Elle Sunweaver, Recke Stoutmantle Love interest(s): Kurel ‘I don’t want to’ An’Diel Person character goes to for advice: Kurel, Recke, Raylen Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Literally everyone she meets that isn’t ‘bad’ Person character feels shy or awkward around: Karkah An’Diel Person character openly admires: Varies, Strix, Recke, Kurel, Elle, Raylen. Then she could turn around and shit on one or all of them. It just depends Person character secretly admires: Full time moms Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Her Mother and Father-- among other Shal’Thera Kaldorei After story starts: Her kids and the Family

Tagged by: @ellwelune

tagging: @mortua-sol

#Character Dev

[fallenheroine]

Even creation falls to death

 Age: 17+ Location: Azeroth Affiliation: Knights of the EbonBlade Status: World of Warcraft AU Default for: Anyone from Warcraft universe

Triggers: Death, violence, and blood

Description: Marinette believed that her life was going well all things considered. She was doing well in school, had good friends and a secret no one knew about. While being Ladybug was far from the easiest thing she’s done, she wouldn’t give up her Miraculous for anything. Chat Noir was one of the most important people in her life and she felt good about protecting Paris from Hawkmoth. One night while she was out on patrol with Chat Noir her entire world got turned upside down. A portal opened up underneath the Miraculous duo, giving them no time to react as they fell through. Once the duo were both through the portal the portal disappeared without a trace. It would take only until the next time Hawkmoth attacks for Paris to realize that their guardians were gone. 

Sometime during the fall, the duo blacked out. Little did they know that this was not Hawkmoth’s doing. Rather a completely different being, calling upon the duo to try and save the future. Upon waking up they realized that they were no longer in Paris anymore as the air was clean here and the architecture was nothing like they’ve seen before. Just as soon as they awoke, they found themselves surrounded by what appeared to be elves.

They were taken captive immediate by the Sentinels based on their sudden appearance, as this was no magic that the Night Elves were familiar with. Though they did not remain prisoners for long. Tyrande received a vision from Elune about their arrival the night before. After a long discussion with her, Tyrande told the strangely dressed humans the grim news, the Night Elves had no idea how to send them home. 

There were currently no mages in Teldrassil at the moment that could help the duo try and return home. Tyrande knew of mages scattered across the Eastern Kingdom who may be able to aid them. Sending what appeared to be two very young human children on such a task seemed unwise. Especially when it seemed to her that Elune saw something special in these children. Despite being unable to directly aid these children , she did say that they could remain in Darnassus until a way for them to return home is found. 

A druid who just returned from Moonglade happened to overhear Tyrande’s conversation offered her family’s home to the stranded children. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked to each other and accepted the offer, the first good news they’ve heard since arriving in Azeroth. Seeing that they were going to be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time, Ladybug and Chat Noir decided to drop the masks. Hawk Moth wasn’t here and magic was common so there was no reason to keep their identies hidden.

While their Miraculous remained unique, they weren’t special or well known enough to warrant the extra security. Living in Darnassus was an experience, as neither of them was ever away from home for this long. The culture and the way of living here was just so different from what they were used to, needless to say, they enjoyed their time there.

Weeks passed as they got settled into their new home, yet they couldn’t truly comfortable. The idea that there were people out there fighting while they were sitting safely within the World Tree bothered both of the two heroes. After a discussion with the Kwamis, a decision was made. They would ask Marahai if they could train and learn how to fight the next time she came back to the city. The wait wasn’t long for them and they asked her if they could fight too. The discussion was long, but eventually, Marahai gave up knowing she couldn’t stop them.

Marahai tried to teach them the way of the Druid, if only to keep a close eye on them. Though to her dismay, neither one of them showed a talent of a druid. Marinette found a calling to the Light, eventually learning to become a Paladin. While Adrien took on the mantle of a Warrior. The duo trained hard for a two years before they were let out to start training in serious battle conditions. It was hard for them to adapt to the new fighting style, and that the only way to finish a battle was with death but they were able to do it. Now, death was a common part of their day.

While traveling to Light’s Hope Chapel to continue their training, the caravan was ambushed by Scourage. Adrien was able to make it out alive with about half of the caravan. However, Marinette was among the missing. He found her backpack about a mile and a half from the attack and saw all the blood splatter on the pack and knew that the worst had happened. Taking the backpack he returned to the group and they made it to Light’s Hope Chapel without any further problems. Once he arrived and got healed up, Adrien took a look at Marinette’s bag and found her Miraculous. Talking to Tikki, he learned that Marinette was uneasy the night before and that she took off the earrings right before they departed that morning.

Little did Adrien know that wasn’t the last time he was going to see Marinette.

Marinette was dragged off by the Scourge during the initial attack and then killed. Instead of being eaten by the ghouls or raised on the spot to finish off the caravan, her body was brought to Ebon Hold. There she was raised by a necromancer and found worthy. She was then given the trappings of a herald of Arthas. She was among the first Death Knights of Acherus to be raised. She trained just as hard in undeath as she did in life, showing no mercy to her opponents.

Prior to being raised, Marinette tried to avoid as much killing as possible while still healing her allies. She would kill if the situation demanded it, but it was never her go-to option.

Now?

Now she didn’t blink twice before taking the life of someone in her master’s name. Her time under the Lich King’s command broke any ties she had to her original life and she became a master in cold-blooded killing.

While she was alive, Marinette found an aptitude for healing her allies. Now she uses the broken bodies of her enemies to wreak havoc on the battlefield. She was on the front lines, slaughtering anyone who dare opposed her master. 

During the Battle for Light’s Hope Chapel, she ran into Adrien and made it her mission to kill him. Despite not being allowed to feel the love she once held for him, she knew that he would make an excellent tool for the Scourge. Once he was dead she knew that he could be raised again once the chapel fell under their control. Luckily for Adrien, Marinette never found the opening to strike a killing blow. During the entire battle, the duo were locked in combat with each other. Marinette trying to kill Adrien while Adrien was trying to stay alive. Just like all the other Death Knights present, eventually she was freed from the Lich King’s control. 

After that battle, Marinette was appalled at what she did under the Lich King’s control and the guilt nearly ate her alive. The only thing that saved her was the support of Adrien, Plagg, and Tikki. With her new state irreversible, Marinette came to the hard conclusion, even if the Night Elves were able to find a way to get them back home… Marinette wouldn’t be able to go. Besides the glaring appearance changes, she’s gone through. She was afflicted by the Eternal Hunger, and she wouldn’t be able to state that craving back home the same way she could in Azeroth. Even if there was some way to sate the cravings and hide her appearance, the trauma she’s endured ensured that she’ll never have a normal life again.

Now she’s got two missions. Her first mission was to keep Adrien alive at all costs and to get payback at the Lich King for what he made her into.

#[verse; Warcraft AU; Even creation falls to death] #verses

[briggette-garabaldie]

Catch up

(written with @basteala​ )

Basteala stood impatiently at the entrance to the Jade Temple. She had already made arrangements to mobilize her troops at a moment's notice, so she allowed herself this moment of peace. Only she couldn't find herself able to relax, even with the beautiful scenery of Pandaria around her. 

It had nothing to do with the threats that wandered the forest, she trusted the agents of Shadowcliff to do their job. But she needed to know how bad it was. How many other hostiles were lurking around, how many rifts had popped up now, how many more people had been driven to madness. The initial reports when they arrived to the Jade Forest had been clear, for the most part. Now, in failing to catch Zheiz'der in the Jade Temple, she wondered how much they had made things worse.

The paladin sighs, eyeing the setting sun. Her thoughts dwelled on Briggette, who had gone with the scouting patrol.  That same patrol was late. She hoped they were alright. She drums her gauntlet against her thigh, masking the impatient gesture from any passerby with her cloak. Damned if she would wait much longer like this.

It was the glint from the setting sun that gave evidence that someone was awaiting their return from the patrol. Briggette was on edge from passing through spider infested woods not once but twice and her nerves were eating away at the energy she had left. As they grew closer, she realize the glint she'd spied was none other than the one person she'd hoped to see first. It soothed her anxiety and brought her calm to see Bast waiting, impatiently as ever. A small smile brightened the weary face as the came within speaking distance.  

"Go on ahead to find Knight Nightwind, I'll give my report to Knight Thayne." Her orders to the the two privates who'd accompanied her back through the forest. Her eyes sought out Bast's and the smile graced her features a moment before she shifted to watch the Dawnsman head further in the temple grounds. A slight shake of her head as she recalled the unbecoming behavior of their newest members before she turned all her attention on Bast once more. "That was a success of sorts, though the others may have more to report when they return. You couldn't wait for us to return could you?" her question slightly teasing.

Basteala waited exactly long enough for the two Privates to salute her and step into the temple proper--just out of earshot--before she could wait no longer and pulled Bri into a searing kiss. Her arm stayed above the waist, but was wrapped around the knight nonetheless as Bast held her for several moments, relishing the closeness even if it was between several sheets of steel. Finally she breaks the kiss for air, cheeks slightly flushed, and laughter dancing in her eyes. "Let's be real, can I ever wait~?"

She made a small 'umph' sound before her lips were sealed by Bast's and she was pulled closer. A hand went up to slip behind Bast's head and it was Bri who reluctantly pulled away when they came up for air. A small smile crinkled her eyes as she held back the laugh that threatened to break free, "Hello to you too Knight Thayne." came a husky whisper. She grinned then and shook her head, "No, you would not be you if you were patient." She pushed back slightly but not quite leaving the space that Bast's arm held her in. "I'm just glad to have made it through that patrol without embarrassing myself." Her head nodded toward where the two privates had disappeared, "They are carrying a flower to give to the dancer girl from the envoy we were to meet. I am guessing they mean Anna." The question was in her tone as she rubbed her thumb along Bast's neck unconsciously reveling in that little touch.

"Embarrassing yourself is it? It sounds like there's a story to that~" A chuckle escaped the paladin's lips, and her eyes danced with mischief now as well as joy. Bast's hand would brush over Bri's hip, the gesture again hidden by her cloak, even if their closeness was obvious. Her features became more serious as she took in the remaining news. She nods. "That's a safe assumption, given what I know of her..." Basteala frowns. "What I really want to know is the nature of this envoy. I'm willing to bet they know Anna from her more....sordid days. Somehow I doubt we're dealing with another order of monks." She forces a grin, more dubious this time.

Bri dipped her head at the mention of a story but lifted as Bast's finished. A quick nod, "There was a Hozen we were able to get information for Shadowcliff and a lead I think on where our and the temple's missing people are." She frowned, "Though I don't know if they are still alive. The group we met though seemed like bandits or worse. I hope it is worth it whatever we are doing working with them." Her words not harsh just resigned. "This is not the way I imagined we'd spend time in Pandaria." a hint of sadness in the words before she shook it off.

Her expression turned serious then, "And where did you find this latest batch of recruits? They are very rough around the edges."

"I think it might be 'worse'. A dancing girl isn't a show your average band of punks isn't going to have on call--or remember for anything other than her...'assets'." Basteala frowns. "Matter of fact this almost sounds like my old boss in Booty Bay. Pandaria's not so different from the rest of the world as I thought." She takes Bri's hand as the woman turned dejected, and holds it with a smile. "Mmm...then when this is over. When Uldum is over, and if Elune allows us some time of peace...why don't we spend some time properly here? I'm sure I can negotiate some time from the Highlord after all this~" Her brows wiggle, hinting  the adventures she had in mind with their furlough, as well as the usual rest and relaxation.

Her brows knot a bit, however, at the next question. Bast sighs. "What happened?" She answered the question with one of her own.

She let out a sigh, "It wasn't direct insubordination but it was close. They clearly were used to speaking their minds without worry about consequences. If one of the Highguard had been there though I feel they might have been judged harshly. I was a bit distracted at first so I didn't catch all of it but its something worth watching and perhaps even attempting a conversation before it becomes a problem."

Basteala's lips pull into an amused smile. "Mmm...that sounds familiar~" She nods, however, at Briggette's recommendation. "Probably a good idea, regardless. What were they speaking their minds about? Any little bit you remember might help. She peers at her lover curiously. It wasn't like her to be distracted. She wondered if that was related to what might have led her betrothed to embarrassing herself. She made a mental note to ask after. Business first, then pleasure.

Bri's face scrunched up as she tried to recall the exact conversation and then she sighed. "I ..." she shook her head frustration evident, "It was questioning methods and actions..nothing new I suppose, but the timing could have been better and I think that is what made me think of insubordination."

Basteala nods. "Yeah. Like I tell people, the battlefield isn't the place for a city hall debate. A stealth mission even less so." She sighs. "The way you're talking, it sounds like a good deal of complaining more than anything. Not unlike some folk we had in Nazjatar."

Bri shrugged, "Perhaps that's all it was. Like I said I was distracted and it was the tone and a little bit of bickering that had me paying attention. Once I said something, it stopped. But...we shouldn't let it become habit."

"Agreed. Light knows that I'll argue with my CO as much," Bast grins sheepishly, "more than the average soldier. But it sounds like they were willing to put the mission at risk for their concerns, and that's not acceptable." She suddenly smirks, more earnestly now, and with some of that trademark trouble that was so present about Bast. "So...what had you distracted~?"

Bri was nodding at Bast's assertions but at the question she flushed bright red. Her gaze shifted to the side and she muttered low, "Spiders."

Basteala chuckles softly, and her eyes dance as they drink up her lover's beautiful blushing face, before Bast pulls her into another hug, and runs her hands along the girl's back. "Mmmm...I remember~Well...I promise your knight in shining armor will protect you from those vicious creatures. " She whispers softly into Briggette's ear. "No one gets to bite you but me~"

There was a moment where the memory of watching for the giant spiders had Bri shaking but as Bast's arms pulled her close and the whisper hit her she shivered for a completely different reason.  "Promise?" came her husky yet teasing whisper back.

Basteala coos softly into Bri's ear. Whispering sweet nothings in an effort to calm her down. Her hands would brush over Bri's sides, then up to caress her cheek, as she sought to both tease and distract her lover from the unpleasant memory. "Take me to one of those private, peaceful spots in the forest you know so well, and I'll show you~" She half whispered, half growled the words.

A giggle escaped from the paladin as she glanced around to see who was near. A smile with a promise as she kissed Bast then pulled back, "Later." her voice husky.  She turned serious a moment, "Why were you pacing so restlessly here did something else happen?"

Basteala pouts at Bri, but nods. She kept her hand on the woman's rear, though she had draped her cloak so it wasn't so obvious to anyone else. The two were alone right now, save for the two monks in the distance standing guard for entry into the temple. Basteala looks at Bri, and sighs. "Lord Anegorn's beat himself to a pulp over what happened a few days back with the rifts. I've also found some information of my own that I think might be helpful." She looks at Bri. "If we're going to be dealing with the criminal underground, I'm going to make sure it's damn well worth it. Some of these mob bosses pick up secrets and old tales to sell off later. You guys were close to the Veiled Stair tonight, right?"

Bri shook her head, "I don't think we were, but I may have lost my sense of direction in the spider woods." She tilted her head, "What did you find out?"

"Where the last fragment of this weapon the Black Empire wants so bad is. It's in a place called the Forgotten Labyrinth, some sort of prison buried beneath the Veiled Stair. The book's incomplete, though. Apparently the sha running around did more than change the language of the book. This gives us a general place to look, but if we're gonna beat Zheiz'der to the punch, I want to narrow it down more, if we can."

"Did you get any insight into what they want it for?"

"Not exactly, but I can take a good guess. It's a titanforged weapon--or at least it makes one when the pieces are put together. It can unleash a destructive power great enough to purge an entire region of life. I dare not think about what it might do in the hands of the Black Empire, and a woman crazy enough to wipe out her own men--en masse--to get what she wants. The monks here have one of the pieces, but the more we have to keep this fight on our terms, the better."

Bri glanced back at the temple and then pulled slightly away as she spied the two guards. She gripped Bast’s hand and began to lead her down the path a little ways. Her eyes were on the area keeping an eye out for more void but also for the spot she knew. “What if we could reforge part of it? Make it so the rest would not come together anymore?”  She pondered softly.

Basteala blinks as Bri takes her hand and would start to lead her away, but she would follow, her eyes glimmering with interest, and humor. Fate seemed to be on their side so far, however, as neither of them would feel the chills or feelings of dread that were coming commonplace when near the presence of one of those rifts. The troll must not have gone this way, or else she may have moved on from the Jade Forest entirely. Time would tell. Basteala looks at Briggette, her words striking her with as much interest as her actions. "It'd be no small feat, I imagine, but doable. I saw the piece--the handle, I'm guessing, of this mace. The pieces are very large in themselves--enough material to use them separately. What're you thinking, beautiful?"

Bri chewed on her lower lip in thought the idea taking root. “Maybe not alone but with some help...maybe we could change a piece so that the others could never be put together.” She paused and looked about a moment before turning down a small path that was right where she thought it should be. The path made a curve and then opened to reveal a small shrine. A bench sat near and she led Bast toward it. “I don’t know if it could be done, but if even part of it could be melted down and reshaped...do you think it would be enough to render the troll’s desire for it moot?”

"Maybe. I don't know for sure what powers she's gained from the spear, but...." She nods. "It would certainly keep the weapon from ever being used. Given how the titans view corruption...I don't know about you, but I don't relish the idea of living at gunpoint. That I or anyone here might become fit to purge just because we live and breathe, living as flesh instead of iron."

"We'll have to get the one from the Labyrinth, though. The monks refuse to give up their piece, and we'd have to take Zheiz'der's from her dead body anyway, I wager. Still, I think you're onto something~" She rewards Briggette's innovation with a smile.

Bri nodded and her thoughts churned with idea on who and how such a thing was possible. Sitting on the bench, they talked in the quiet of the shrine planning and catching up while they had this free moment.

#bri and bast

[youngster-monster]

In which Kael’thas is small — that’s it, that’s the joke

Read on AO3

Sin’dorei aren’t really on the small side of the height spectrum. They’re not on the tall side either: they stay on a nice, comfortable medium, somewhere around six feet high. Their average is average. If nothing else, it’s a nice change from their usual eccentricity.

Bus Kael’thas just can’t be like everyone else, now, can he? Royalty, member of the Kirin Tor, blood mage, savior of the sin’dorei. 5′5′‘ tall.

It’s been something of an issue in the past.

(“Chieftain Bloodhoof,” He greets, and the Tauren looks around in puzzlement. “No— Urgh. Down there, Chieftain.”)

But there’s a difference between off-hands comment on your height by members of allied nations — which he has come to see as an annoying but apparently necessary part of life — and deliberate offense from some half-demon, hero-wannabe asshole with a savior complexe.

(Demon hunters, as a rule, are unpleasant to work with. A consequence, he supposes, of the gruesome ritual responsible for their powers and demonic appendages. Or maybe their difficult personnality is a requirement for the role? Both are equally likely.)

“Come again?” Kael’thas says, too shocked to come up with anything smarter at the sheer audacity of it.

“What, do I need to speak up to be heard from down there?” The seven-foot-tall purple dick says and smile.

Anger simmers just under Kael’thas’s skin and his cold, polite smile freezes and twists into something sharper, crueller. And then he kicks his leg up as hard as he can in the stranger’s crotch.

The man is surprised enough by the attack that he bends forward with a pained grunt. Kael’thas uses the distraction to close his hand around one of his horn and pull him down to eye level, a whopping two feet lower than he usually stands. Kael’thas, because of his apparently natural inability to be average, is stronger than most mages, and the demon hunter is in too awkward a position to break his grip.

Kael’thas narrows his eyes and hisses, low enough that nobody else would hear his rather un-kingly manners, “Call me small one more time and I’ll shove my flaming, magical sword up your ass, are we clear?”

His magic answers to his irritation with small, golden flames that curl around his fingers and lick at the horn in their grip. The demon hunter flinches.

“Are we clear?” Kael’thas repeats, tightening his hold.

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Kael’thas lets him go. Footsteps echoes in the corridors, an odd hooves-life sound on the dark stones. Another Illidari, he suspects.

He could probably take on two of those nuisances if he had to: he’s one of the most powerful mage on the continent, if not the world, and even without that his status as the king of the kingdom of Quel’thalas gives him absolute diplomatic immunity. That doesn’t mean he want to test his chance; he turns around and walk away before it comes to that.

Kael’thas is stopped by a voice.

“What have you done this time, Eltarel,” The voice says, perfectly deadpan, like it’s a common occurence.

The demon hunter — Eltarel, apparently — must think Kael’thas far enough not to overhear, or maybe he doesn’t care, because he immediately starts to rant. “I was just talking to this elf and he freaked out on me, my lord! Threatened me, even!”

“And that cowed you into submission?”

“Well, no, but he seemed important and I wouldn’t want to risk our alliance by maiming a diplomat or something.”

“And yet, knowing this, you still decided to insult him?” The voice sounds profoundly unimpressed now.

“I—”

There’s a sound like someone getting hit in the head hard enough to stumble and the voice grumbles something Kael’thas doesn’t catch before saying, louder, “I knew most of you went a bit mad with the transformation but I didn’t expect you to get stupid as well."

Satisfied — and a bit curious now—, he walks away as quietly as he can, toward the council chambers, in which Kael’thas was supposed to be ten minutes ago. Well, nothing like being fashionably late.

An hour later Kael’thas is tired, irritated, and feeling like stabbing someone in the throat. The truce between the Horde and the Alliance is fragile on a good day and if it’ll be a miracle in itself if it’s still holding by the end of the day, given how this meeting is going.

As what appears to be the most rational one of the lot, Kael’thas wishes for the good old days of the all-out war between the two factions. At least then he didn’t have to listen to Sylvanas and Anduin bicker (or, as it is, throw threats of death on each others’ loved ones).

Lorewalker Cho — wonderful, impartial, calm Cho — has called for a break in the negotiations. Most leader have basically fled the room but Kael’thas doesn’t have the energy for it. He kind of just— slumps on his uncomfortable chair and lets his head fall on the table in front of him. Maybe he could just pretend to be deathly sick and go back home — maybe magical addiction is making its comeback in the blood elves’ ranks, what would they know about it.

He wishes he had delegated this particular duty to Lor’themar instead. Last time he saw him, his second-in-command seemed awfully happy to be alive and eager to help: he ought to change that. Misery loves company and diplomatic misery most of all.

A steaming cup is put next to his elbow. He lifts his head wearily, sees it’s green tea, and offers a grateful and rather pathetic smile to the lovely pandaren who brought it. She rolls her eyes and pats his shoulder in silent support.

It’s nice to know no one’s happy to be there.

Sipping the beverage like it’s not approximatively around the temperature of the sun, Kael’thas looks around the emptied room. Thrall and Vol’jin are talking in low tones at the other side of the room; Sylvanas is leaning back in her chair and appears to be napping — curious, he thought evil never rests.

(She became somewhat of a reluctant friend in the past decades, and on most days he greatly enjoys her company, but by the Light he will strangle her with his two bare hands if she opens her mouth just one other time in this damned meeting.)

He notices movement in the corner of his eyes. He turns around and sees— Malfurion Stormrage, who has the annoying habit to go unnoticed until he decides to come out of the shadows and scare a century off Kael’thas’s lifespan with his sudden apparition. The druid is discussing with a demon hunter; the dark, freakishly tall figure is easily recognisable as Illidan Stormrage, the fabled twin. Kael’thas thinks the can see some kind of family ressemblance in there— the horns-wings combo, maybe? They’re both purple, that’s something.

The room is mostly silent and the brothers aren’t making any effort to be particularily secretive. Really, no one could say it was Kael’thas’s fault for overhearing the discussion.

“You’re late, as always.”

“Well, if ten thousand years of imprisonment didn’t teach me the value of punctuality, those boring meetings sure won’t.” An unintelligible reply from Malfurion to which he replies, “What, too soon?”

A sigh, a lull in the discussion. Illidan breaks the silence by asking, “How’s it going, anyway? Anybody’s killed anyone yet?”

“Fortunately not, thanks Elune.”

“As I said: boring.” He has an oddly charming smile, a mischevious, kind-of cocky grin. “I kind of miss the times when they resolved their issues by throwing punches.”

“trust me, you don’t.”

“Well, at least there weren’t as many peace meetings. What is it the goblins say? ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’?”

Malfurion huffs a laugh.  “There is so much wrong about what you just said I don’t know where to start.”

That’s when it hits Kael’thas; the voice in the corridor was Illidan’s. He’s surprised he didn’t recognize it, but then again, the last time Kael’thas saw the Betrayer (or whatever they call him now), Illidan was offering a solution to all of his problems in exchange for his help against the Legion. A nice, straightforward job offer that Kael’thas refused on the spot, because he’s nothing if not a great judge of character and fresh-out-of-immortal-prison Illidan was shady.

Death apparently had a good effect on that, at least. Illidan seems a bit less hellbent on the destruction of all living things now. Not by much, mind you, but a little.

(Kael’thas also remembers why he had to think about it before making the wise choice of saying ‘hell no’ and hightailing it: Illidan is everything a good night elf should be, with a dangerous twist that takes him from ‘handsome’ to ‘mind-numbingly hot’. Apparently, Kael’thas’s type is ‘dreadlord chic’: he has mixed feelings about the knowledge.) 

The Stormrage brothers have stopped talking and there’s a distinct feeling of awkwardness lingering between them. Kael’thas decides to put them both out of their misery and, after mustering up the effort for it, drags himself out of his chair and walks to them.

He circles through the druid’s titles before he settles on, “Archdruid Malfurion. Thank you for resisting the urge to join the screaming match,” He dips his head and lets out a weary sigh. “These meetings are hard enough to begin with without us— ‘stuck-up immortal dickheads’ joining in on the verbal violence.”

Malfurion smiles lightly. “You are quite welcome, King Sunstrider.”

Kael’thas then turns toward Illidan. The man, unlike his brother, is standing and he actually has to crane his neck to hold his eyes, or what passes as eyes in a demon hunter. “Lord Illidan,” He greets neutrally, and resists the urge to tell him that all his subordinates are assholes. He probably already knows. “Good of you to join us.”

He’s not sure himself if it’s a barb at Illidan’s lateness of his infamous habit of doing everything alone and mostly against everyone else. Illidan looks down, the tall bastard, and replies, “King Sunstrider. You are— smaller than I expected you to be.”

“I've been made aware of it, yes.” He crosses his arms over his chest and, deciding to abandon all semblance of polite, careful communication, adds, “Multiple times, in fact. Your demon hunters are a bunch of pricks.”

Welp. His mother would be ashamed of him if she knew.

“So I’ve been told,” Illidan agrees.

There’s a beat, and then—

They both smile, amused and sincere in a way that makes Kael’thas’s face relax after an hour straight of politely not tearing out anyone’s throat with his teeth.

“Oh dear,” Malfurion says. “I have the feeling you two should never have met.”

They get along like a house on fire.

#world of warcraft #illidan stormrage #kael'thas sunstrider #an au that's somewhere post mop and definitely before the broken shores but kael never joined illidan #the most unrealistic thing here is that malfurion isn't an asshole #writing #peace talks au

[airanke]

✥ oooooorrrr ❀ for Sylria to U'thel! (❀ Could be helping her dress a rather deep wound on her working arm, since she couldn't really do it herself 👀 /SHOT)

Sylria mentally cursed herself for being careless - and wasn’t that how one usually wound up being, well, wounded? Blood trailed down her good arm, the one she worked so hard to keep out of harm’s way, the one she needed, because Elune knew that she couldn’t use her rotten little stump to stem the flow of blood.

She spat a curse when she stumbled, though she was able to right herself before she fell over completely. Where was he anyway? Maybe he set up his tent and was inside?

Really, the demon hunter could have let anyone help her, but in her state she had subconsciously made a bee-line to where she had last seen U’thel. He was... an odd sort of comfort, she supposed. The similarities they shared was something she basked in, and the fact that he didn’t shy away from her interest in him was another thing she revelled in.

That, and often times, she found him returning her advances.

What Sylria hadn’t expected was to stumble into his tent - obvious because it was the only one made out of dark, oiled yak fur - and find U’thel chewing on a long pretzel stick. She knew that he had a preference to biscuits, but a pretzel never crossed her mind.

Before she could ask him about it, he turned fierce fel green eyes to her and immediately snarled, “de fuck did you do?”

Sylria flushed, her ears twitching down at the tips. Normally she would raise her other arm to grip her bicep, but with her left arm nothing but a stump and her right arm too cut up for her to move it comfortably, she resorted to scrunching up her shoulders and lowering her head.

“I um... I was a lil’ careless, dat’s all,” she muttered, looking off to the side before glancing back up at him. Elune he was a sight, with his hair all tousled and lips slightly parted because he was biting down lightly on that stupid pretzel.

And damn did blue ever suit him--

She jolted a little when he suddenly moved closer, grabbing her by her left shoulder before dragging her over to what she could only assume was his bed. It looked more like a nest, blankets and pillows thrown haphazardly together in a circular shape. He shoved her into a sitting position, and Sylria instinctively jerked her right arm toward her chest, wincing at the pain. She didn’t want to get her blood all over everything.

Not like this, anyway.

U’thel muttered incoherently under his breath, and from what she could make out, it was a mix of Demonic and Zandali. A short giggle left her when it became clearer that he was muttering about her. She yelped when U’thel jerked her helm away, a scowl dominating his features.

“Seriously. Wat de fuck did you do?”

Her brows furrowed back, and when she didn’t answer him, he sighed. Without another word he easily removed the armor on her right arm, tossing it to the side. It all landed on the nest he’d made, and he pulled her arm away from her chest so he could get a better look at her injury.

“U’thel!” she complained, biting her lip, “I’m gonna’ get blood all ova’ ya bed!”

The male looked up at her, one brow quirked, and the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, “and?”

She couldn’t stop the blush that spread over her cheeks. Sure, the interest they shared was no secret, but nothing had gone... that far yet.

He was back to scowling now, his gaze scrutinising her arm. He reached behind himself, keeping her arm out-stretched, and grabbed a clear glass bottle and a cloth. She was envious, sometimes, of people who had both arms. He pulled the cork off the bottle with his teeth, draped the cloth over top, and held it in place with one finger while he tipped it upside down. The liquid inside was clear, and Sylria could tell from the smell that it was a cleaning alcohol.

She hissed through the pain as U’thel went about diligently cleaning her arm. His expression relaxed for a moment after most of her blood was wiped away.

“Hm, don’ be lookin’ dat bad,” U’thel turned her arm a little, and Sylria found her skin was growing hot where he held her. She bit her lip again. Sometimes, she just wanted him to touch her. Sometimes she daydreamed about him touching the stump she had for her left arm - and quickly she shook away those thoughts. No need to disgust him with it.

“Definitely not as bad as I be tinkin’,” he mused after a moment. He lowered her hand to his leg, and Sylria’s eyes immediately darted to look down at the spot. If she were feeling braver, she would consider passing her hand along his thigh, but alas, U’thel turned back with a roll of silkweave bandages.

It was odd to see him being so careful. He wrapped her arm well; tight enough to stem the bleeding, but not so tight as to cause her discomfort. With a sigh, he pushed himself up to stand, and Sylria flexed her hand. Her arm still ached when she moved it, but she supposed that was a given. U’thel went about silently putting away everything he’d brought out, and soon enough he was back to sitting in front of her.

“Still didn’ tell me wat de fuck ya did ta git dat wound, Sylria,” he said, and Sylria decided she was really beginning to like how her name slid off his tongue.

“It... be a long storeh...” she admitted after a moment. U’thel shrugged.

“I be havin’ time.”

(( //POSES THERE YOU GO @druidickats !!!! ))

#Air writes #U'thel #Sylria'fon #show a little skin meme