Sorceress. Witch. Monster.
They're all just words. "I PREFER THE SCENT OF BLOWN-OUT CANDLES; I CRAVE SMOKE OVER SWEETNESS."
ā Kristen Costello š„š„š„ "Beseech Death, my child. Trust in Her judgment." [ An inspiration blog for Pamina Ras'vanae, a character on H-Wyrmrest Accord-US and A-Moon Guard-US.
FC: Eiza Gonzalez ]
While Pam very much still exists, and this blog is still active/going to be used, I'm probably going to start piling all of my other characters under this account, too. The era of having 4305873405874350783405 separate accounts to keep up with is kinda dead for me. I'll probably come back and update this for every blog I get set up, too. But for noooooow...
He's probably my second-most used character, if not the most currently. So if you're getting random follows and this tumblr in particular doesn't seem to be doing much, it's probably that. ^
Dae sat at his kitchen counter, countless documents scattered in front of him, like a roadmap that was quickly leading nowhere. His sister's distractions had been slowly weakening his spine, leaving him half hunched over whatever he was looking at while he fidgeted with a small metallic disc.
āNot now, please?ā
āM'jusā sayinā,ā she muttered, sweeping past him to go snooping through the sea of loose papers. āYou, on th'other handā¦ look like shit, by th'way. Fixā¦ā Her words died as she spotted a fish. A whole fish. Right there in front of her. Scales and all, just laying out on the far counter. One of the fins looked like it'd been blown clean off and her face scrunched up. She decided she wasn't going to ask. ā...that.āĀ
Zalaena shuffled a few documents, skim reading for anything of value while simultaneously side-eyeing her brother. She could tell, given by the bruising and scrapes along his mouth that whatever all of this was, was important to him. He'd been tearing away at himself with worry, a habit she hadn't seen surface since-
Something interesting caught her attention then, though it wasn't on the papers in her grip. It was his face. His eyes. Discarding her hand, she reached across the counter, gripping at the hollows of his cheeks to pull him closer while the older rogue huffed out a breath through his nose. Dae's brows pulled taut in agitation though he knew any attempt to pull himself free would just result in her screeching.Ā
āWill y'fuckinā quit squirminā for two seconds?āĀ
And there it was. He hadn't even moved.
āZalaena,ā he drawled out in warning.
āY'got somethinā in there, jusā lemme get it!ā She tipped his head, trying to get a better look at the left side of his face. Eyelash? No. Bloodshot? She'd never seen it form like that. It somehow looked too dark. Considering how her brother lived like a damn cave troll, the poor lighting wasn't helping.Ā
Before she could discern what, exactly, she was looking at, a book was being thrust against her chest so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of her. Her hands pulled away from him, scrambling to grasp onto the field journal before it hit the ground. āTh'hells gotten in t'yo-...ā
āHave you seen the growth in Eversong?ā
She froze, knowing exactly where he was going with it after glimpsing the title.
Luminous Flora: A Systematic Survey of Persistent Plant Life
āDaeā¦ y'can't keep obsessinā over this,ā she began, quickly shaking her head as she shoved the book back at him. āS'been years, there ain't been any sign of āem. Y'gotta let it go.ā
He carefully took the book back, tossing it onto the counter while his other hand continued thumbing over the subtle vine etching on the disc still in his hand. āWhat if he's just been waiting? This whole time? Or getting stronger? Or building an army of botani?ā he asked, voice growing louder with each question. āWhat if he's already in people's heads? What if-ā
āSTOP IT!ā
āIā¦ā There went his steam, evaporating so quickly out of him he almost swore he saw the tendrils of moisture, ā...can't,ā he mumbled, gently curling his fist around the disc. āI need you to believe me this time. Even if heās not involved, none of this is good, Zal.ā
Go ahead - show us your surprised face! We know we said the off-season had begun, but we scrounged up just enough manpower, holiday cheer, and orphan sacrifices to muster up a hilarious pop up performance for you all! This Wednesday evening, if you're not too busy beating the new Santa hat off of Dimensius, or grinding out the last of the rating you need for your keystone achievements, or heaven forbid putting the bones of other players in a blender all for the sake of a shiny saddle, come see us in Winterspring at 6:30 PM server / 8:30 PM Central/MG time!
An anchor will be made available, and someone will be there giving out milk and cookies. Maybe hot cocoa if he's feeling generous.
We hope to see you there~!
Seeking help!
We're in dire need of Vendors. We are currently at only 50% capacity.
š®š¾šššššššš šÆšš¶š¹š¾šš š«ššš
- ššØš¬ššš šš²: Dinthoqaf the Defiler
- An opportunity to support our fine city's economy! With vendors, food, drinks, and even a Gift Exchange (Raffle!)
- This is a server-wide event for the Hordies trying to bring a bit more life to the city of Silvermoon!
What we're aiming to have:
- Vendors
- Gift Raffles; including Mounts, Mogs and 'Baskets' of Goods!
- Vendor Poll with voting to see those vendors get some real gold for their hard-working efforts!
- [MG and WRA both invited to attend!]
Heads up: MiyaStoreIT is an Etsy shop which sells commissions done with generative AI, trying to pose as real digital art, actively scamming customers.
You can report their listings as it breaks Etsy ToS: AI generated stuff should have clear information in the listing description about it being AI.
And another genAI rat, who tried to sneak his way into creative spaces- also offering commisions with that slop. Very loud and proud about using genAI.
And again: don't get scammed, don't waste money on slop. There's many like this out there.
Magistrix Sidori Silverspell (@inathia)
Magister Vinlan Duskfury (@ronaestrider)
Get to know <Phoenix Guard>'s new Magistry sponsors (NPCs) and what criteria they have set for reactivating the dormant military unit. Surely, they won't have to use this document and nothing will ever go wrong...
(Cross-posted from our Discord server in case anyone is interested! We will be officially re-opening at the Midnight pre-patch.)
Magister Vinlan Duskfury triple-checks his timepiece before slipping it back into his phoenix-emblazoned robes, the purple cloth and silver thread dancing in the illuminated streetlights as the evening hour begins to settle. He nods to passers-by as he patiently waits, a product of his constant penchant for arriving quite early. As he glances up to the building before him, he is greeted by a luxurious domicile, one fitting for a Magistrix of Sidori Silverspellās station.
His mind continues to wander as he paces patiently. His curiosity of the upcoming meeting grows as he thinks of Silverspell, her interests, and her current affairs. The Runesworn project is, of course, well-known and well-regarded, a scholarly mission of safety and security, but how that intersects with Vinlanās militaristic interests is an item that weighs heavily upon his mind.
As the timepiece clicks closer to the 5pm hour, Vinlan straightens his posture and dusts off the front of his robes to ensure an impeccable display. He takes a few steps toward the ornate door of the Magistrixās domain, knocking gently upon the wood to announce his timely arrival.
Magistrix Sidori Silverspellās residence is near the Sunfury Spire, in a neighborhood of wealthy scholars that either never leave their homes or are never actually there due to research demands. Silverspell is among the latter, owing to the injuries she sustained during the Third War. An apprentice Runewarden answers the door when Magister Duskfury knocks, bowing his head respectfully as he steps aside to allow the guest entry.
Calling it a residence seems inaccurate when it feels more like a library. An enchantment makes the foyer of the apartment seem much larger than it actually is, with a large room lined in books and bewitched tomes flitting around like birds. The Magistrix sits at her desk in the middle of all the organized chaos and, with some effort, rises to greet him.Ā
Normally seen with a hood in public, Magistrix Silverspellās striking white hair is uncovered and her braid loosened. Her red and gold robes shimmer with their own enchantments and she regards her guest with a warm smile.Ā
āMagister Duskfury, thank you for coming on such short notice. Do you prefer pleasantries, or getting right to the point?ā
Vinlan bows in deep respect in response to her greeting. āPleasantries are always appreciated, Magistrix, especially in such a beautiful spire. Though, please - do not rise on my account.ā He unfolds the letter of invitation that Sidori sent for this meeting, tapping it with his fingers.
āI must say,ā he begins, still holding himself fully. āI was quite surprised to have seen this come to my desk. It is no secret that we operate in somewhat differently-focused echelons within the Magistry.ā He pauses to smile and bow his head once again in her direction. āIt is an honour, but of course - I look forward to the potentiality of bringing our circles closer to orbit.ā
He folds the paper in his fingers before gesturing to a chair near her desk. āMay I?ā
Sidori seems relieved to not have to fully rise, instead leaning back in her chair with a contented posture and expression. With a hand featuring numerous rings and enchanted tattoos, she gestures for Vinlan to sit opposite of her. With that same hand, she waves to an apprentice who scurries off to a side room. Said apprentice returns quickly with a porcelain tea set and begins setting out service for two.Ā
āI would venture to say that we exist in completely different specialties, actually,ā Sidori responds with a light chuckle, āBut there have been times before and certainly times ahead that such opposite specialties must work together. Have you been keeping up to date on the reports from Khaz Algar and Kāaresh detachments of Thalassian forces? There are Reliquary agents stationed in both places who have written concerning reports about Hallowfall in particular. Kāaresh is, wellā¦ a vision of a future I hope does not come to pass.āĀ
The elder Magistrix lets out a light sigh as her apprentice pours cups of herbal tea.Ā
āAlthough I am a Runewarden without a Runestone to guard at this time, I still have a connection to the convergence of leylines here in QuelāThalas. They shuddered with the re-emergence and subsequent defeat of Dimensius.āĀ
Vinlan nods as he listens intently, his eyes tracing the ornate patterns of the teacups as the offering is poured. His mind turns over her topic of conversation while he nods slowly. āYes, indeed,ā he admits softly, measuring his words with care. āThe whisperings of the Voidās machinations have spread throughout most circles, both magical and otherwise.ā
His features darken momentarily. āI do not believe it to be a mystery that Dimensiusās defeat was crafted by the Harbinger - another twisted step up her spire of games.ā He shakes his head with an audible sigh. āYou know Iāve spoken heavily on the subject of Thalassian martial defenses, but do permit me to make myself plain, Magistrix - it is not that I see weakness in the Magistry or our magical abilities as some would suggest. I only mean to assist in unifying Silvermoonās collective abilities by ensuring that our individualized talents are collectively focused on defense.ā
He takes a moment to pause, releasing his reflexive grip upon the wooden armrests. As the apprentice steps away from the pair, Vinlan breathes deeply to inhale the steaming aroma to permit the tea to calm the subject. āIt may be bold of me to say so, but I have a suspicion that such a desire for unification is of interest to you as well.ā He smiles warmly over the desk to Sidori before gesturing to the tea. He waits patiently for Sidori to take up her cup first.
āIs that a hint of wintersbite from Alterac I detect? You must be in the very good graces of Botanist Nathera, I take it. Truly, I am flattered by the offering.ā
The Magistrix keeps her gaze leveled on Vinlan as the tea is poured, measuring the darkening of his gaze as if she can read his very soul and intentions. Her scrutinizing gaze is redirected as she lifts the teacup to her lips, taking a sip that is followed by a contented sigh.Ā
āYou are a man of good taste, Magister Duskfury,ā Sidori comments with a smile, which is tempered by the severity of the discussion at hand.Ā
āMy pursuits and interests are largely of a scholarly nature, but it would be foolish of me not to prepare for war when I feel that one is on the horizon. What happened in Khaz Algar, I fear, may be but a taste of what may be visited upon QuelāThalas. The Void consumes, Magister, and we are keepers of a most sacred fount of power.ā
With a pause for another sip of tea, she continues.Ā
āKnight-Lord Dawnblade was the head and organizer of the Runesworn. Her talents, while vast, are much more suited to martial endeavors ā I asked her about the Phoenix Guard. And I asked her, in turn, to ask her former Lieutenant Commander about it. They are willing to wear the mantles of leadership again if needed. And if the Phoenix Guard is to be reborn, we will need a sponsor within the Magistry with more military knowledge and influence than I.ā
Sidori bows her head politely to Vinlan, suggesting that he is, in fact, that Magister.Ā
Vinlan lifts the secondary teacup to his lips in a moment of brief contentment. As he looks to the steaming liquid before him, the comforts dissipate quickly as the aroma of Alterac is replaced by one of acrid smoke. The gleaming spires of QuelāThalas shudder beneath the onslaught of the Voidās machinations as the people scatter and scream. He blinks as the tea swirls slowly in his cup before him, the vision a glimpse of the fears he too holds.
āI admit that I share your concerns, Magistrix,ā he replies softly as he places the delicate china down before him. āAlleria, powerful as she may be, is a lesser pawn compared to the forces that may descend upon QuelāThalas. If the Sunwell had such an adverse reaction to her visit, I can only imagine what else may be possible.ā
He lifts the teacup again for another sip, settling into the comforts of militaristic conversation. āAh, the Phoenix Guard - well-known for its willingness to leave nothing to chance. A shame it was eaten by the Windrunner war machine those years ago. I admit that I was surprised of your selection of Knight-Lord Dawnblade for the Runesworn project - seems anā¦interesting fit, if youāll permit my opinion.ā
He sits back slightly and lifts his cup for another sip, his posture one of a Magister preparing to enter a discussion in which he knows he holds value. He says nothing of offering a sponsorship yet, preferring to continue to hunt and needle. If there is anything these high-level members of the Magistry were capable of, it is posturing.
Sidori lets out a light sigh as the subject of the Runesworn project and her unorthodox choices in leadership are brought up. With a dismissive wave, she again reaches for the teacup to bring it to her lips.Ā
āAll of my years of strictly academic pursuit of such a project yielded little in the way of results. Hints, here and there, without the necessary force to take it across the finish line. The Knight-Lord is well known for taking orders and getting an assignment done. Sadly, I overestimated how many scholars she had in her retinueā¦āĀ
The Magistrix trailed off into silence for a beat, then flicked her gaze up to meet Vinlanās with a playful sort of annoyance.Ā
āOh, Magister Duskfury, must I really beg?āĀ
Vinlan chuckles at that, leaning back as the proverbial ball lands on his side of the court. āI would never deign to make someone of your station do anything of the sort,ā he quips, taking the final sip of his tea. He places the gentle cup down upon the edge of Sidoriās desk, leaning in slightly to turn the topic of conversation quite serious.
āTell me, Magistrix,ā he begins, his voice slightly lower. āIf we are to lift the Phoenix Guard up once more, pull it from the ashes as it were, do you believe it can slough off the stains of the past? It is no mystery that there were someā¦unsavory events in its history. Suncrown, notably, but also their penchant for running directly into the jaws of the beast. While some would call that bravery, it can also be foolish.ā
He pauses a brief moment to regard her expression, but decides to press onward regardless, embracing the opportunity to have the floor. āYou know more than anyone that I am keen on shoring up militaristic defenses, there is no reason to hide such wishes any longer - I know that such desires are no longer uniquely my own, especially now. I just wonder if bringing forth an old contingent once again is the better move compared to birthing a new one.ā
He sits back a touch, looking to Sidori curiously. āI suppose my question is ultimately simple, though I want to make a point to not question particular military dossiers as we know many of the Guard are abundantly capable. But, why them instead of something new?ā
Magistrix Silverspell watched Magister Duskfury from over the rim of her teacup as he jested about not making her beg for his help. Her incredulousness was skillfully hidden behind her pleasant features, even offering him a smile as she set the teacup down in its saucer, then the saucer down on the table next to her. Sidoriās long, thin fingers steepled together just below her chin as she thought on her answer.Ā
āTo critique just the Phoenix Guard for unsavory moments in the face of insurmountable odds would be unfair to critique our people as a whole of our lapses in judgement when we faced survival or annihilation. You and I both know that we, as members of the Magistry, had a direct hand in some of those unintended outcomes,ā she gives him a pointed look with her fel green gaze, using the very corruption of her own features as a way to underscore her point.
She leans back in her chair again, bony elbows poking prominent depressions in the plush armrest of her chair. Her fingers still remain steepled at her lips. Finally, she rests her hands in her lap.Ā
āThe Phoenix Guard is the most logical choice because they made a name for themselves fighting those insurmountable odds and surviving. By being the sword in campaigns outside our borders, they kept QuelāThalas safe. If they are called upon to be the shield in a time of need, they will fight tooth and nail to fulfill their oath of service,ā Sidoriās voice, normally gentle and measured, becomes a touch more impassioned with each point sheās made.There used to be stories of her delivering such speeches at Magistry gatherings or lectures at the Academy; most thought that she had lost her fight after the war.Ā
āI donāt mean to be fatalistic or even nihilistic about this, Magister Duskfury. But you and I both understand the enormity of cosmic powers and related horrors from Karesh that could very well be waiting to converge upon us. What is the nature of the void?ā she asks in a tone not unlike an Academy professor, and answers her own question. āThe voidās nature is to consume. Where is the brightest spot of its antithesis on all of Azeroth? Right here. The Sunwell.āĀ
Finally, the Magistrix sighs.
ā...I canāt lose it again, Vinlan,ā she murmurs, foregoing formality in the name of vulnerability. āNone of us can. Itās up to us to stack the deck in our favor and use everything in our power to help make sure that doesnāt happen again. I believe the Phoenix Guard to be a part of that.āĀ
Vinlan removes his formal guard, his defenses lowered with the veritas of the subject matter. He allows a lengthy pause before taking a long, soft sigh, looking up into her fel green eyes with his own. He manages a soft smile, a genuine one.
āYou know,ā he begins, his tone markedly different as he drops the guise of a conniving Magister. āThere are so many who would say that we operate at opposite sides of the spectrum. That your penchant for academics and my militaristic interests are to be at odds.ā He sits a little straighter, shifting his body to face her fully.
āThey would be wrong,ā he says firmly with an accompanying pause for emphasis. āAnd I am most glad to see it. You are right, and we all, myself included, know it. The Sunwell must be defended at all costs by any, and every, means necessary - our very continued survival depends on that. I donāt think any of us can lose it again - I would fear for what we would become.ā
āTo reflect on my earlier points,ā he continues, āI mean not to criticize the Guard, truly. I only posit potential lines of questioning that others within our ranks may consider. I cannot and will not deny their potential, their strength, their courage, or their merits - their dossiers speak fully upon all of that.ā
He relaxes somewhat, still continuing his thoughts as they swirl from one to the next. āUltimately, that you chose the Knight-Lord to lead the Runesworn project speaks to your trust in militaristic affairs, something that most assuredly piqued my interest. While unexpected, your summons this evening has laid bare your plan, your vision, and your goals, and I am humbled by your openness on the subject.ā
He leans forward, glancing across the desk to see if any documentation had already been drafted while returning his voice to one of formality. āMagistrix Silverspell, it would be my honour to offer my support of recommissioning the Phoenix Guard in an effort to strengthen the defenses of QuelāThalas. I believe our co-sponsorship could send an important message to the Magistry at large, and I do thank you for the trust and the opportunity.ā
Sensing the discussion reaching a favorable conclusion, one of Sidoriās attendants brings in a leatherbound file folder with a formal declaration having already been drafted. With a bow, the attendant presents the file folder and Sidori shows the new charter for the Phoenix Guard.Ā
Sidori waves an enchanted feather quill over to her hand, which she snatches out of the air. Without any fanfare, she signs her name in large and flowing script next to her rune. Once satisfied with her signature, she floats the parchment and quill to Vinlan.Ā
Finally, she offers a kind ā but weary ā smile.Ā
āI hope that we do not need to use this.āĀ
Vinlan takes his time reading the document with deep scrutiny before taking the quill in kind and affixing his signature.
āI couldnāt agree more,ā he adds after added the final filigree of his signature. āThough I believe I speak for many when I offer that Iād rather be prepared than surprised.ā
He places the quill down next to the document and looks upon it, the swirling official text glinting with the power of their combined signatures. āThe Sword and Shield rings out from the Spires once more, Magistrix Silverspell. I thank you for the opportunity to see it so. May this partnership bear much fruit in the time to come.ā
The Nightblade Masquerade - Friday, October 24th @ 8:00 PM EST
āDon thy mask, still thy name. Let the veil fall 'twixt truth and pretense.ā - Shalla'serra Xaviez Ti'Vanelle
---
By word and will of Xaviez TiāVanelle, Shallaāserrar of the Nightblade Consortium, thou art cordially invited to attend the Nightblade Masquerade, to be held upon the ancient and whispering grounds of Lunastre Estate, nestled within the heart of old Suramar.
In this hallowed season of Hallowās Endāwhen the boundary between flesh and forgotten grows thinālet us gather not in sorrow, but in shadowed revelry. Let masks replace faces, and intent be cloaked in silk and silver.
What once was a place of forbidden congress, where the noble and the nameless danced beneath scrying stars, now opens its vine-choked gates anew. For one eve, illusions shall reign, and none shall be as they seem.
---
The Nightās Delights and Diversions
There are prizes to be won. From gold to art! Come be a part of the fun!
Thy name shall be left at the threshold. Thy face shall not be thine own.
Come forth in secrecy, in elegance, in silenceāand let the Masquerade decide what is revealed... and what remains forever shrouded.
ā In the Nightās Keeping, The Raven Council
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Apartment keys had been handed over to Sicarius nearly a month ago, despite all of his sister's nagging and insistence he keep the space to himself. He wasn't going to let the only sanctuary he had be held over his head - instead, he'd find a new one. Or, rather, an old one.Ā
The curved windows of the store front had gone dim years ago. Eight, to be exact - and yes, he had been counting. He'd walked past it plenty of times since his return, taking account of each broken pane, each fresh cobweb and every hand print on the glass from others stealing a peak inside.
Dae had been breaking in using a window on the second floor every few weeks, to feed an old friend, but being on the main floor was a beast he hadn't quite tackled yet and as he touched the knob, the tremors in his hand caused it to rattle gently in his grip. Through the broken and slanted slats of blinds, he could see what others couldn't. The mirrors. The pocket watches and grandfather clocks. The displays she had spent so much time and care putting together through long nights and the veil of dust that had accrued over all of that hard work. Dae sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, pulling his hand away as if the door had nipped him. A demon for another night. Maybe.
A moment later, he was standing on the balcony, propping open that window so he could slip through and as his boots hit the floor, a wet snarl sounded out from somewhere in the room. āEasy, boy, sāonly me,ā he drawled out, turning back to shut the window. His shoulders rolled and bounced, shrugging his jacket off as he strode further into the loft, draping it over the back of a worn sofa. The living quarters werenāt spared the passage of time, either. Dust seemed to trail after him, particles shifting and moving as they caught glints of light from the street below.Ā
Moving to the kitchen, he began rummaging through cabinets in the dark, taking quick stock of what supplies he had. āLooks like weāre roomies again, Georgie,ā he quietly called over his shoulder, only to be met with silence. Expected. Reaching further, he fingers found purchase on an old bottle of whiskey and his head tipped forward, blowing off the dusty bits before he gathered up the hem of his shirt and twisted it around neck and opening, clearing it off. Itād do for now.
āIāll get you the fattest lynx steak youāve seen in yearsā¦ tomorrow. Maybe a few strider eggs as a treat.ā He paused briefly, hints of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. āA snackaroo~, but I need to rest first,ā he explained, slowly trudging up the stairs. The bottle was carefully tossed between his hands a few times once he reached the top, his gaze lingering on the bed. Another beast. Another day. His attention dropped to the large trunk situated at the foot of it and he bent down, gingerly running his hand along the top as if he were petting a cat. The mimic gargled and shifted with a wet plop and the sound of something solid hitting the ground. Dae blinked once and crouched down to spot the cuff link to a shirt he was sure he had misplaced years ago. āMaking amends, are we? Fine, fine. Two steaks.ā A faint, approving rumble came from Georgie while Dae scooped up that cuff link, tossing it onto a nearby nightstand and then dipped into the bathroom.
His reflection caught his attention as he passed and even in the dark he found himself briefly frozen. His cheeks were sunken. His hair was a mess. Dark purple lingered beneath his eyes like bruises thatād never heal. And heād been calledā¦ āprettyā. By a stranger, no less. There wasn't a single pretty thing about him. He knew that. Yet the lie, in the moment, had brought warmth to bloom in his chest. What a fucking asshole.
Grumbling to no one but himself, he peeled himself away from it, climbing into the bathtub one leg at a time until he could recline back. One leg was tossed over the side while the other bent and rested against the inner wall, not bothering to remove his boots despite how heavy it all felt. Setting the bottle between his legs, he patted himself down for his cigarette tin and promptly got one placed between his lips. Next came the matches, eyes squinting with the sudden light as he struck one and brought the end of his roll alight. Taking a deep inhale, he shook out the flame, letting the spent match drop into the porcelain basin. He wasnāt even going to bother trying to fill the tub tonight, there was no telling what would come rumbling out of those pipes. Heād settle for a dust bath instead, tipping his head back over the rim of the tub as smoke poured from his lips and rose to an all too familiar ceiling in grey and alabaster spindles. He was somehow homeā¦ and yet the furthest he had ever been from it.
Exhaustion was wearing on him more than usual this week and the pull never seemed to stop, as if someone had hooked a thread straight to his core and was slowly reeling him in. Sometimes his hearing would begin to go, like he was suddenly submerged and everything became muffled. It was the light sensitivity that seemed to come and go that really fucked with him, though. The aches that sunk through muscle and tendons, nestling into bone and marrow were only a reminder that something vital was being used elsewhere. For things he couldnāt see. For things he couldnāt control. He had no say. No choice. A glorified battery.
Expected.
It's not like someone was invoking their powers to make frivolous jewelry though, right? Ha!
Preposterous.
Each use cost him something. Did he even care that memories were blurring? Did he even know? Would he care if he did?Ā
The way Dae saw it? He wouldnāt - so neither would he.
