ᴺᴼᴵᴿ.

say your goodbye, 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧.

[duskildan-arc]

RAVEN OF FATE   . . .    a private & plot-driven writing blog for vax’ildan of vox machina from critical role’s first campaign. compliant with the campaign & with canon-divergences in place in accordance w/ affiliated writing partners . 

affiliated with @dawnahlia​​ ♡ i will not follow or write with other vex’ahlia’s.

this blog is in line with campaign canon only and does not refer back to any events of tlovm when speaking of canon or canon adjacent events.

mun:  vic. she/her. 21+

[warsarchive]

ALL HIS LIFE, GUILLAUME HAS BEEN RESTRICTED IN WHAT HE CAN AND CANNOT DO. he has grown up utterly steeped in privilege, a fact of which he is neither unaware nor unappreciative. but his title - especially given the responsibilities that come with the inheritance of the prophecy - is accompanied by countless restrictions, rules, a razor's edge of appropriate behavior that he must walk practically like a tightrope. growing up under the weight of such requirements makes it easier, he supposes, or at the very least, more natural, but the burden remains. and never had that burden become more clear to him than during his time away from it. to pretend to be just gui has been strangely freeing, although he endeavors not to exactly romanticize the hardships he has both witnessed and experienced throughout his time with vox machina. regardless of that hardship, of the fact that guillaume has certainly never lived so roughly, there is freedom to it such that he has never felt in his life before. it is that freedom that has encouraged him to pursue this courtship of theirs in a way he knows to likely be irresponsible - but that he simply cannot deny them.

" yes, I am absolutely discouraging you from thinking of me as too royal. I should think that would have been obvious by now. " his tone comes easily as he allows himself to be pushed to the side, reclining where he falls in the damp grass as he watches vax'ildan carefully. it is privileged beyond words, he knows, to pick and choose when his royal titles are used or not used, but it doesn't seem right out here - and it certainly doesn't seem right beside vax, with whom he wants to stand only upon equal ground. if he can pretend to be regular, if he can at least temporarily shed the mantle of promised prince, then he can pretend it can last. in a perfect world, it would. but he cannot convince himself that vax would choose to accompany him on his inevitable return home. nor would he truly blame him for that, with all it would entail. he has every intention of opening the doors of the palais to all of vox machina, no matter what thoughts his father might have on the matter - but he knows better than to think such a temporary solution will yield permanent results.

gui reaches forward to take vax's outstretched hands, allowing them to use each other's leverage to pull themselves to their feet. it brings them remarkably close when they stand, intoxicatingly so, at least for gui, and he gazes down at the other man for a frozen moment, entirely disregarding the fact that their clothing is still just slightly smoking. he cannot help the grin that pulls at the corner of his mouth, one which easily could have been sly and yet somehow manages to be almost heartbreakingly genuine. he has ever been this way, no matter his youthful attempts at making a roguish prince of himself. this nature of his had never been a boon to him at court and it's hardly helpful in the wilds, either, where one should keep everything a little closer to the vest than gui is typically capable. he's still not sure if it's positive in the context of a dynamic like this - but he tries not to give it much thought like that.

" I suppose I should admire your restraint, " he sighs somewhat theatrically, certainly playing into the easy flirtation he himself had begun. there's a simplicity to it, an ease which draws him toward vax almost magnetically, makes him wish so impossibly fiercely that they were somewhere more convenient. even so, he's inclined to make the most of it, to sink into that warmth, that hope, even with the overarching knowledge that it cannot truly last. " even if it is a little disappointing. but - " with his grin lingering, he leans closer, almost conspiratorially, as if to murmur a secret, but at the last moment, he presses a kiss to vax's cheekbone. daring, given how shy gui has often been with his affections. he's already walking away as he finishes speaking over his shoulder, cheeky. " you'd best get moving or I might lose the motivation to try again. "

[duskildan-arc]

what does the line of succession in a land he is not home to matter to him? poignant question, one vax'ildan has been asking himself a lot over the past few days, ever since he discovered the history of the guy him and the rest of vox machina saved in the middle of a meddling forest. for all the talk of crowns and gowns, and there must be plenty, vax'ildan has always turned away from it and created more distance between him and whatever novelty nobility created, not in small part inspired by the impressive between his father and vex'ahlia and him. turns out that bad childhood experiences do create lasting impressions, enough to make the half-elf class conscious or, you know, pissed off at the people with money and power that looked down on people like him, saw him or his sister as little more but something to be left in the wild, just kids that should fend for themselves and later ragtag criminals that should never enter city walls. well, tough luck. they've always had another thing coming when it was the two of them, not in small part because of his twin's sharp mind and his own undercover ventures. guillaume looked well off the moment they met him, the moment vax'Ildan found him, but vax banked on some merchant or another and not actual, full-fledged royalty.

curses stuck between his teeth, vax'ildan is pondering the point again. why should he care? it is amusing enough to rile the other up with his station, to take the piss a little ( a lot ) and bring them back down on equal footing among each other, but otherwise it should mean nothing to him. it shouldn't matter - it doesn't. vax'ildan is basically never thinking about the impending departure at some point when their party had to focus on their quest to keep exandria safe and guillaume would return to his throne and pick up where he left of, his fleeing of his designated position only a pause and not a full stop, and their lives would continue on away from each other as was intended. the unhappy stirring in vax's chest concerning this prospect could mean nothing, just a natural issue, but he knows himself and his bleeding heart better than that. he knows he will stomach that hurt, in due time, but that premeditating it is an impossibility when the idea of being left never sat right with him. guillaume probably knows this, which is why he tries so hard to make light of the truth, turning them just into roadkill for love's sake by the bad luck they've been dealt.

" apologies. it is just that the overall flair you keep possessing is just so - royal, that's one word. royally dramatic are two but i think they mean the same thing. honestly, if you were to stumble out of a burning window like this again, i'd assume someone would cushion your landing even if i weren't there. bad thing is, no one would make fun of you, " vax'ildan retorts, tilting his head one way or another to get the crick out of his neck from the impact of their fall, glad he didn't hit his head but knowing the strain on his muscles to prevent it isn't a joke. at least he's dressed in armour that's fireproof, the deathwalker's ward useful in more than just one way, and in a quite practical situation as well. anyway, he'd have known if he was to die here by default of wearing this ward, so there is really nothing surprising anymore that would come from that direction. secure in the knowledge that neither of them would turn into ash just yet, vax'ildan lets his head fall back into the grass.

death evaded, yes, but there is a different kind of terror in his chest when guillaume draws closer instead of away, way too smug than is good for both of them right now. this is the terror of a butterfly's wing, fragile hope wrapped in affection. " ugh. not on the lawn. that's just unfair. you're just waiting for my restraint to crack one day aren't you? that's not very noble of you, your majesty, " he answers, dark eyes fixed on the other, one hand reaching up to run his fingers against guillaume's neck and touch his jaw with a press of vax's palm. " get off me. or else we might just turn to bacon before we can see just how far i can take this. i'd hate that, by the way. i prefer you as you are. "

[warsarchive]

THE MOMENT OF CONCERN THAT HE HAS, PERHAPS, INJURED VAX'ILDAN DURING THEIR UNFORTUNATE TUMBLE DISSIPATES ALMOST INSTANTLY. if he's speaking, guillaume reasons, the result is likely less harmful than a little bruising, and unless the numbing rush of adrenaline conceals something much worse, the prince himself has also escaped unharmed - if substantially winded. he gasps for a taste of clean air as he pushes himself upward on his palms, giving his companion space to do the same, unable to resist the breathless laughter that rises in his throat. the dewy lawn feels blessedly cool beneath his palms - perhaps lightly burned, but hard to say yet at this juncture - and he focuses his vision to gaze down at vax beneath him, trapped between his knees.

suddenly, it becomes very difficult for gui even to breathe again, let alone recall that his clothing is still residually on fire.

❝ your highness, actually. I'm no king yet. ❞ he teases, despite his voice remaining hoarse with smoke and strain. even so, gui manages to roll aside, adjusting this way and that to douse any remaining flames in dew and grass until all that remains are gentle tendrils of smoke and the now-distant crackling of the unfortunate fire they've set in an otherwise charming building. not that he can find it in himself to care much in this moment. the excitement set his blood afire far more effectively than his garments ; his senses have sharpened, his vision and sense of smell heightened, his fingers itching for something indistinguishable in the wake of their fall.

perhaps that's what coaxes him to roll back the moment he's satisfied that he's no longer aflame, to catch the half-elf again before he's had a chance to rise, to hover over him with one hand cupped around the side of his neck and a gleam in gui's eye as wicked as it is thrilled. he often plays coy at all this, toying with gentle flirtation, allowing the other man's lead to guide him through unfamiliar territory. ( guillaume has his own experience, but it's ... different, often feigned, not nearly as complex, and certainly not as real and raw as he feels down to his very bones here. ) he couldn't explain why the danger emboldens him so, even if someone were to ask, and he's hardly inclined to examine to where his inhibitions have escaped in this moment. ❝ vax, ❞ he coaxes, his tone as low and smoky as the destruction in their wake as he lowers his mouth near enough to the rogue's that he can almost taste him. ❝ don't be so sour. are you going to pretend you didn't find that at least a little exhilarating? I know I did. I mean, you looked so - ❞ truth be told, gui's barely able to keep his face straight, knowing in advance the stupid joke he's about to make, and his mouth lengthens than purses in an effort to hold back his own laughter. ❝ - hot. ❞

[duskildan-arc]

there is nothing to gain on the grassy lawn than a good old case of humiliation. vax'ildan has shown his own colours ages ago, it doesn't need a case of a bruised rib to prove to him how colossally stupid he is whenever it concerns guillaume or guillaume's safety. there is a hefty amount of money stacked on vax's head, on all of theirs, but there is a crown where a sum should concern guillaume's fate - and yet vax'ildan is not doing this out of wayward loyalty arising towards some strange monarchy. he has never felt close to this kind of privilege, not from a personal standpoint ( he thinks it tasteless ) and even less considering the bone he has to pick with anyone seated in their very own ivory towers. the irony is not lost on him, as he made sure the prince is as uninjured as one could be after jumping out of a window, and knowing neither of them will carry any terrible injury away from it. once more, it's only a little humiliating and a lot embarrassing, which is pretty much the same looked at from his angle of looking at things, and vax'ildan has humiliated himself far more for less things. saving a life, he wagers, is a good reason to fumble a bit.

" all the same in my vocabulary, sorry to say. are you implying i shouldn't think of you as too royal? " vax'ildan finds his voice and with it the ability to quip back something that isn't a total wash, thank the gods. it would be bad enough to be tongue-tied now, with guillaume's weight pressing him into the grass and then pressing into him from next to him. the death walker's ward is resistant to fire, but the rest of vax'ildan is decidedly not, so he pats himself down and makes sure the rest of him, any exposed part of skin and his face as a whole, are only clammy from residue smoke and sweat and not about o get hurt. then he is rendered silent after all, seeing the prince suddenly becoming bold enough to follow suit in a manoeuvrer that usually vax'ildan would pull with enough alcohol or enough adrenaline in his system. his own eyes are fixed on gui's face, staring at him with something akin to slack-jawed surprise, and he can't help the warmth spreading down his neck at the stupidly bold words he hears from a man he has seen nothing but mildly flirtatious unless vax'ildan himself did the first move to test the waters.

it all crumbles down a second later, breathlessness exchanged for stupor, followed by a snorting laugh from his end as he reaches up to push guillaume's own amused face away from him. " you hang out with keyleth too much. that joke was awful, i am hot all of the time, " he retorts after getting himself in a seated position. apropos the rest of their group - he is pretty sure that one or some of them are following the route of the fire to find them here, sitting in the grass and smiling at each other like idiots instead of getting the fuck out of here. " i found it exhilarating when i crashed into the lawn with you on top of me, yes, truly one of my wildest fantasies. you found me out after all, your highness. " half of it is true, is the thing, but vax'ildan isn't going to say that part out loud. instead he reaches out his hand for guillaume to take, so both of them could get up. " c'mon, gui. before we're starting to grow roots for real. you can try that again once we're out of here. "

[duskildan-arc]

it only feels this raw right now, lost in the labyrinth of my mind. you would break your back to make me break a smile. you know how much i hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back, just like that. UH-OH, I'M FALLING IN LOVE.

VAX & GUI for @kaeleidoscopes

[a-alucinore]

sword of wind ☁️ ⟢ vax'ildan ( @duskildan ) ft. asteria , accepting

the creature lied slack as a pool of black, curdling blood smothered the snow beneath its open belly. its leathery face remained contorted, still possessing an unrelenting outrage that not even death could claim. it might have mocked her, but the raven queen was too transfixed by the traditional embroidery along the edges of the torn kaftan it wears. this creature had once been human -- that much is apparent, but it is the unapparent, a knowledge so few carry, that makes her pale beneath the cold ivory of her mask. staring at the blighted villager, as if time might reveal them to be no more than another trick from the whispered one, their putrid eye simply stares back -- -- unblinking, collecting snowflakes. and she knows without question she had seen this scourge once before.

there's a whistle of a storm blowing in, and of a dagger flying through the narrowed space between the white birch trees, finding its mark through the throat of another rogue creature. it is rare that the fate weaver should be blindsided. unprecedented that it should happen twice in the same day. ( then again, a young mage apprentice had once said to another, it's much easier to turn a blind eye to the things we do not wish to see ) she hears the creature's gurgling protest as it falls to its knees, until the last breath falls within her like a heavy stone.

when she turns, she does not spare the glance, but faces her champion instead. vax'ildan can't see what torments the soft, weary lines of her face then -- the fear, pride, pity, hope -- nor does he hear the thanks or praise he is owed. the raven queen is, as ever, a silent effigy, wading over the dead like oil over water as her soiled sword remains at hand. ❛❛ there will be more, ❜❜ she says, a haunting lilt that sounds trapped in another time, another place. she follows the thin trail of footprints left behind, parting the snow storm in two so as not to lose the way. ❛❛ we must find the village they came from. ❜❜

[duskildan-arc]

this body is a ghost, this body is made for a purpose now. his choice has always been his very own and has begun more right the longer he has been in service of the matron, but now it has begun to feel like second nature, like it has begun to permeate whatever is left to flow in his veins and make his whole body shiver like afterthoughts whenever he finished one of his designated tasks. to cast a bridge between what was no longer alive and what has turned out to be dead is the part that pierces his heart but that he does valiantly and proudly, but it is the work in direct name of the raven queen that is making his title as a champion and the oath he has taken feel like it fits his idea of purpose - he has always been a blade himself, always the very first knife thrown, always in for the kill. this is as naturally as breathing, even when he is in endless limbo of a dead future. it is worth it, so is she.

a black bird amidst a white forest, the trees can't manage to obtrude his sight nor his aim, and whisper finds its target with the aim unlike any other of his daggers ever did. the half-alive creature is killed the moment vax'ildan lets the shadow of the dagger take over him and makes him appear in front of his target to wield the last cut right through the throat, deformed and charred as it may be. when he halts where he is the dagger still in his hands, the thudding noise of the dead body nothing more but background noise as he turns as well to look at the raven queen. " they should not come close enough to harm you. no one should, " he states with the finality he used to employ any of his words with when he was still mortal. this has not gone from him, this fierce need to be the first in the line of danger to keep others safe.

the snow does not deter them now and he follows right on the matron's heels further into the village. nothing remains in the air but death, the unnatural kind that plays with the lines of fate when those should remain uninterrupted to only ever be picked up by the matron or her champion. vax'ildan keeps surveying their way through the snowy forest, making sure there will not be more surprise attacks that might overcome his master. it worries him, the image of the raven queen unmoved as she was attacked. no, this is not right. " what has this place become? these people shouldn't be turning into monsters like that. they shouldn't even see you. "

[warsarchive]

❝ i guessed you had a secret past.   people can try to hide it, but nature shows through. ❞ ( vax @ guil ! )

GUILLAUME WISHES HE HAD A SUBTLER FACE RIGHT NOW MORE THAN HE EVER HAS BEFORE. he knows - has always known - perfectly well that he hasn't substantial skill for concealing himself beneath layers of pretense. the best he's ever managed were the parties he once frequently threw, the thin facade of the proper and yet slightly hedonistic prince that he wore back at the palais when necessary. out here, it made sense to shed that fabricated piece of himself like snakeskin, to become something entirely new. the problem was, he hadn't managed to decide just what he'd wanted to become. in the meantime, he'd become entangled with these mercenaries, all the while blissfully unaware just how vulnerable he'd made himself by doing so. he's slowly begun to realize that his own vulnerability and the rogue's charms may prove an unfortunate combination, particularly in his precarious state.

❝ that's a rather kind way to tell me how transparent I am, ❞ gui responds, bolstering his tone with as much dry and humorous sarcasm as he can muster. truth be told, @duskildan's observation takes him somewhat off-guard ( despite its obviousness ) and puts him more on the defensive than he prefers. his nerves balance on the edge of a knife ; vax'ildan knowing he's concealing parts of his past only means that he's that much closer to discovering the truth of gui's identity. forcing his hands to remain steady, he lifts his mug of ale to his lips to take a carefully measured sip. although he drinks with them to avoid suspicion, he worries that - one day - at least vax may notice that he keeps his consumption to a careful minimum. whatever the risk, though, it is less a risk than irresponsibly loosening his tongue.

when he lowers the vessel, he averts his gaze to the amber liquid, watching it ripple, barely restraining a wince when he catches a distorted view of his own reflection on the surface. a chilly sensation of dread settles in the pit of his stomach as he considers his situation in more detail. he's living on borrowed time. for now, they're far enough from the palais to avoid news of his disappearance and posters of his face plastered over bulletins, courtesy of gui's father. but slowly, their progress will draw them closer, or the news will spread further, and either way, gui will find himself in a position to flee his companions or be caught. he doesn't relish the idea of striking out on his own again - nor of shedding his newly found camaraderie, particularly with the man seated beside him. ❝ or you're simply saying I'm a bad liar. either way, I suppose your gentleness is appreciated. ❞ the errant prince sips again at his drink and offers vax a thin smile over the rim. he prefers not to think too closely about what he says next, for fear that acknowledgement even only to himself will force him to think about his potentially problematic crush a little too hard. ❝ but I'm sure you understand why I'd prefer to focus on other things. for instance, how dashing you look tonight. any particular reason for it? ❞

[duskildan-arc]

the royal does not know that he is see-through like a sheet of glass, or at least that he is that to vax'ildan. it is not even his fault, try as the prince might it is far from easy to get past the assassin - vax'ildan would not be this good at what he does if he couldn't pick up on an obvious lie here or there. the fae may deceive him, may do so successfully, but most humans don't ever make it far enough to venture a try. the fact that guillaume has lasted this long is a testament to the way he managed to shut himself up before letting too many things spill, but his body has kept betraying him over and over again until it was hard to miss who he really was. a noble, that was vax'ildan's first thought. no one keeps such manners in tact and is dressed like guillaume is if they don't come from money, apparent money, but to think further cemented itself more the longer they spent time together. there are nobles with an ego, of course there fucking are, but there is a certain quality that only prevails in royalty. it is in the posture, dug into gulliaume's spine, and it sits on the tongue where guillaume is a poor liar for fear of letting anything through. his silence has made things glaringly obvious as well, dodgy and cagey like those with a secret heavy enough to be killed over. dodgy and cagey enough in his measured quips that the restraint does not speak of freedom, but the opposite of it. that was the last nail needed to solidify vax's theory.

vax'ildan knew he was right, now he knows that he is indeed. hardly has he strayed wrong with his deduction, but he ran things by his sister before approaching the subject with the man intended for it. vex'ahlia has always heard him out, hardly ever made him stray the wrong way, and this case has been no exception - if he can't see the forest for the trees, she always could, and they could make each other see clearer. it is solely guillaume's luck that the people that found him were vox machina and not a band of happier assassins or mercenaries ready to take the prize money of his head somewhere they could get a pay for it. " well, you're both? transparent, to me at least, and a terrible liar to most of the world. not even grog lies as badly as you do and the big guy is short a whole bunch of braincells, " vax'ildan replies with an amused tilt to his head as he watches guillaume talk his way into small circles. it is almost endearing, a shyness that is part of what made him so out of place in exandria's wilderness, and that now has vax'ildan feel some type of way to preserve this - protect it and the man it belongs to. " don't worry, i will not tell anyone. though i urge you to mention it before we are anywhere you could be found out. it is better they hear it from you, your majesty. " the last words are said mockingly, vax'ildan never above making a bit of a joke out of those that come with titles, which he is now certain guillaume has more than plenty of. probably wordy ones, too. good thing he doesn't need them here.

leaning back against the wall, the far end of bench in the tavern has always been his preferred seating whenever out with the group ( and not roped into shenanigans by grog or scanlan ) and now it comes in handy again as he also prefers to keep his voice quiet. if guillaume has been obvious, then so has been vax'ildan, though not over any wayward titles or noble bloodlines - rather it concerns the last of the royal's words, concerns the little stacks of looks they give each other and maintain, the gestures of comfort during shared night watches and the way it has been way, way too easy for vax'ildan to feel like he is in the right place at the right time whenever the other man is around. this is deviously dangerous territory, vax'ildan is aware, but he has always been the worst of them to stay away from danger. it has never worked, is the thing, and he fears it won't work now either. " flattery might get you anywhere. i just thought you might be easier to crack while i look my best. of course, i look like this all the time, " he answers, adding a grin to his answer as he uncrosses his arms to put his hand onto the tabletop next to his own abandoned drink. " are you ever going to do something about this or are you just going to keep complimenting me until you think i get the hint? i got it, weeks ago. "

[saader]

Stealth twins after Thordak’s defeat, episode 79.

[duskildan-arc]

would you look at that? we're throwing off sparks. ( from gui )

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS, ACCEPTING.

they make a heap on the floor, the fall they have taken from three stories down not the kind that makes way for a cushy landing. vax'ildan can feel the air leave his lungs when they crash onto the lawn, a punch out of his ribcage all from the trajectory to the ground and meeting it alone. with guillaume falling on top of him, making him shudder out the last bit of his exhale, all the rogue can feel for a moment is the sensation of weight and then the grass beneath his back being not as comfortable as it looked from afar. blinking his eyes open, one hand shoving the prince down by the shoulder so vax'ildan at the very least could breathe, he stares up at the window they fell out of. one of those with a railing like it might have been a balcony, but that railing is now dented outwards from their combined weight toppling over it.

guillaume's voice pulls his attention back to the two of them, where both of their clothes still have whips of flame licking up and down the edges. this is what happens when the flametongue dagger is used against him - the miscalculation is on vax'ildan's part and he has the queasy feeling that the people waiting on hand and foot for guillaume to come back to his castle might have him beheaded for it. but the other man is just laughing, the tingles of amusement evident where he shifts on top of vax'ildan, and all the rogue can think about is to thank the matron of ravens and any other force. if he is more hurt that guillaume, then everything is alright. then everything is as it should be.

" oh my god, shut up. we're burning, your majesty. if you would be so kind to roll off of me and do your twist and turns on the lawn then even your coat can survive the night, " vax'ildan says, voice tight from the little flow of air he has. most of his armour is fireproof, poison-proof and what-not, but his hands are not. and neither is any other part of his flesh, so he does not really want any of the leftover fire to creep up over the collar. as much as he would be enticed to know the other man on top of him at any other moment of the day, now he just wants both of them to be fine. " so, please. before i am going to push your ass off my chest. "

[freshmoviequotes]

Past Lives (2023)

[twinklestarss]

The Twins Making Deals With The Matron of Ravens [3/3]

Campaign 1 Episode 103: The Fate-Touched

[duskildan-arc]

once again i am thinking about vax's premature death as an act of love literally changing his whole character, every character around him, and being the biggest action of impact in exandria's history and world-building like yeah. love lives on like that. that's the whole entire point of it and of cr1 by the way. if you even care.

[warsarchive]

THE SITUATION BECAME CLEAR PRACTICALLY THE MOMENT THE GROUP GRACED HER DECKS. for all the years in which freya has known him, guillaume has never excelled at hiding the way that he feels. except in his moments of most awareness, his expressions tell quite loudly the story of his emotions despite himself - and in the past decade, freya has learned to read between the lines. the draw between gui and the enigmatic vax'ildan was obvious immediately and all she can do now is pry. starting with the elf.

❝ you're right, ❞ she answers airily, making sure that she sounds at least a little dismissive, if only just for show. ❝ I'm only his sister, after all. and I'll only be the one who has to withstand his moaning and moping if his heart gets broken. so I'm sure you're right, nothing to do with me at all. ❞ it's then that freya sighs, finally compromising her flawless posture to lean against the rail of the ship, taking care to remain a respectful few feet away from the man she speaks to. out of the corner of her eye, she observes him carefully, the set of his jaw, the avoidance of her gaze, everything that suggests to her that this is a conversation he'd prefer not to have at all. she fancies herself a sympathetic person, especially for someone like vax clearly fighting themselves in their own mind - but even for the relatively small amount of time that she and gui have been frequently in each other's lives, her loyalty must lie with her brother.

a beat of silence passes between them. for her part, the captain listens for the lapping of the waves against the solid side of the ship, a bell from a very distant point, the crow of a nearby seabird. tension hangs heavy in the air, though she has trouble pinpointing exactly which part of this interaction has created it. he isn't interested in her input ; that much is abundantly clear.

❝ you know, I met gui for the first time when we were both eighteen. our father brought me to court and introduced me to society in anticipation of eventually securing an advantageous marriage for me. I was too young and naive at the time to be anything but grateful for his apparent charity, of course, but that is another tale entirely. as delicate and gentle as I was then, gui was gentler. softer. a man mustn't grow the same set of teeth as a woman to survive the royal court, that much is true, but more than that, it was his natural disposition that made him that way. of course, he played at being the sharp and handsome playboy prince, but even green as I was, I saw right through that ploy for exactly what it was. ❞

she pauses then, her gaze falling thoughtfully to her hands on the rail. the time they have is limited, could end at any moment - and for all her decisiveness on deck, in battle, as a leader for her crew, captain fairweather cannot settle entirely on what she wants to tell this man who has captured her brother's attention. it isn't her place, not really, and she knows that, but all these years, she's struggled with exactly what her place is in her family, including with the prince. and perhaps she's meddlesome by nature, curious to the point of detriment.

❝ what I'm saying is that he's fundamentally afraid. of his own existence, of the expectations he labors under, of his very heart. he knows a life of privilege, perhaps, but also one of uncertainty, except one thing : he doesn't measure up. not to the legacy, not to the bloodline, not to father dearest's expectations, and not to what the people desire of him. whether or not it's the truth is irrelevant. it's his perception, his own reality, that defines him. ❞ she turns away from the railing and instead leans back against it, looking at vax directly, intently. any lightheartedness has evaporated. ❝ what I'm asking is, are you going to make him feel like he's disappointed you as well, by being what he is, whatever that means to you? that you care for him despite himself rather than because of it? ❞

[duskildan-arc]

the sea is a treacherous element, not a friend but neither an outright enemy. is it the rogue's element of choice? certainly not but then again he never felt a strong affinity for air until he has practically been thrown into the ether and forced to grow wings - it does the trick quite alright, he couldn't deny that, but there was also a period of trial and error and some brushes with near-death only rescinded by the matron of ravens to put most of his trust in her. even an airship is preferred to one traversing on water, but beggars can't really be choosers when it's not even vox machina's primary goal to change land. it is guillaume who has a home to return to while their party would move on and follow their actual mission again, would carry home with each other, and soon the wayward royal would be a memory of the past, nothing but a face that once looked fondly at vax'ildan. there are a few of those, bridges not burnt but crumbled, and the sting never really eases with a heart like vax's. until then to the sea it is, all thanks to the very man that would forget vax in return. this is a swan song as much as it ever was, or the prelude to one.

" hm. he didn't speak much of a sister. rarely by name anyway. not until he mentioned he strayed a little too far from home. now i'm getting the shovel talk for free, " vax'ildan retorts. the sea is tracherous, yes, but not as much as captain fairweather and the plank she wants vax'ildan to walk into the ocean on, her ocean that is. he is not too prideful or too selfish to not see this for what it is, as estranged as the two siblings are ( the opposite of vex'ahlia and him, who are attached as close as two people who aren't conjoined can possibly be ), she does care about her brother in her own way and is far more keen-eyed than him. less sheltered, the rogue thinks, a little bit like himself and his twin. only a taste of what life could be with the right attention from the wealthier parent, not necessarily adorned with love and affection though. better to be by oneself then, better to forge love in this world than confined to walls keeping you away from it.

what freya inclines is harmless to what he compared and still holds against percy, the tang of brine under vax'ildan's tongue coming natural at the reminder of his own righteousness alongside the furious understanding of the sharpshooter's notions and emotions - to love his sister is to love an abyss of wilfulness, to love a light that could illuminate even the worst of shadows and most abysmal of depths. he can't fault curiousity and someone's own blame, but he can be the brother they all know he is. compared to him most siblings seem deceptively tame, calm waters rather than raging storms. would freya wish for her death before her brother's? would she let the heavens try to cut through the line of fate connecting her and him? is there even such a connection for others, for anyone but himself and his twin? regular siblings still elude him, though vax knows he would scorch the earth nearly as much for his half-sister as he would for vex. the little show freya puts own could very much hide a lot of her deeper affection, of binding strength between her convictions to be there for guillaume and to wish him well. who is vax'ildan to know? he barely knows whole families as they are.

foot tapping on the wood beneath his soles, vax'ildan turns back to look at the captain. there are thin similarities between her and her brother, but where his heart has tied a noose around itself and handed the rope to guillaume, he can say with his own conviction that this seems to be a solitary reaction to the man and not to his family's line at large. which is good, it means that vax is even remotely level-headed compared to how he'd act around the other. freya may have caught him off guard, but she hasn't caught him unprepared ( when it comes to other people, he so rarely rarely is. ) " i don't know what that's like, to not be with my sister. i would rather - i would rather drown, or burn, or just die where i am than consider it for a minute. it is cruel to keep siblings apart. and where i always tried to see the good in people, vex'ahlia didn't always follow my lead. she has a keen eye, and a keener nose for tricks. you remind me of her. he reminds me of myself, sometimes. he's still soft. i am - not. not like that. i admire that about him, his heart is good. better than most others. "

when freya looks at him, vax'ildan finds the answer to her question surprisingly easy. maybe not light, matters of the heart never are to him, but there is no force he has to fight to find it. maybe because he understands the undeniable support freya's own heart pins under her brother's to make sure he is a little alright, even from thousands of miles away, or maybe because she is as tough as the ship she owns and wouldn't let vax'ildan walk away without inquiring not of his own toughness or the steel in his bones, the blades hidden under his armour, but everything beneath even that. it speaks of a different weathering, different bravery. vax'ildan looks at her and smiles gently, half-there and half-gone. " he doesn't need to measure up to anything, or be anything to me, but himself. i want him as he is. i don't care who he is - i want him to know i like him for who he is, no matter who that is down the line. my loyalty and my trust are hard to come by, but they rarely if ever fade. i am telling you now that it won't, no matter what we'll be to each other. "

[duskildan-arc]

i don't think it's up to you. ( from freya, because gui's sister )

THE LAST OF US, CLOSED.

vax'ildan has been on ships before - sailing ones, flying ones, wrecked ones that didn't move much at all. he can do as well with seafaring as he does with airborne travel, though he thinks that has little to do with the sour quality of this trip. when guillaume told their group that he knew of safe and affordable passageway from one continent to the other, none of them expected it to be by way of hsi sister. because captain freya is undoubtedly his sister, the similarities striking when you have been as focused on the prince as vax'ildan has been these past few months of cohabitation and travelling, and with his heart far more in it than anyone else's. he could not deny it piqued his interest, how much likeliness exists between the siblings, considering the near non-existent borders between him and his twin sister and yet all the differences that make them separate entities that could still mesh together into one perfectly.

afer three days of travelling, the conclusion comes to vax'ildan the moment he finds a moment alone with freya. or rather she finds a moment with him and capsizes it the way vax'ildan would do so himself and pull anyone aside he wants to have a conversation with. here he is at the mercy of her patience, her undeniable ties to her brother, and the territory she has marked has hers with the ship being her home more than anyone else's too. in this way, she is nothing like her brother. vax'ildan looks at her and sees the similarities, but where guillaume has let worry and uncertainty be eroded between them like quicksand, a bird's wing-snap, freya is apparently not one to soften this fast and seems to still want to give vax'ildan a shovel talk of the most painful kind. the one that is too-real, hyper-focused on why the end of this journey would mean a most-definite end to whatever vax has been harbouring for the other. she can see it, of course she can, and she can say it without fearing heartbreak.

" i am grateful for the vote of confidence, but if any of this is not up to me, than it is even less up to you, " vax'ildan retorts. leaning against the railing, the murky fog hanging low over the ocean certainly doesn't give the conversation more appeal. guillaume is below deck with everyone else, probably unaware of the uncomfortable truths shared in his name ( or maybe too aware, vax'ildan can't decide what hurts more ), and vax'ildan is stranded in the serious gaze of a serious sister. " i know he keeps his secrets. so do i. and i am not enough of a fool to think my chance exists forever, or that there is an infinite number of them. i'll take what i can get, thank you. " vax'ildan turns his head away from freya, looking out into the blue-black night. " this has nothing to do with you. "

[mysteriae]

lately, something takes hold of her senses -- not shame, not hunger. that's left to the emaciated dogs barking in the ally below the unit's blinded window. they're fighting each other for scraps, while willfully neglecting that their nature wasn't defaulted for aggression and social disconnect. it sets the precedent for what this gridlocked city breeds in everyone. keyleth isn't an animal though, even if government scientists treated her like one, and neither was vax, to be sleeping at the foot of the bed, standing guard even when the hour finally calls for rest; for some humanity ( some progression ).

the request had been a seed nurtured beneath the tongue for too long, and tonight it finally blooms into a need too great to keep from outgrowing the trellis of her teeth. it's not that she thinks he'd refuse her the tenderness, it's that she doesn't know if she should allow herself to hold what he places in her hands. she knows how this is likely to end, but she wants him close. and can't stand the thought of anything separating them now. not even sleep, and especially not daybreak. ❛❛ good. . . but i don't trust you not to skip breakfast. you'll have to stick around for that too, ❜❜ she says, with a friendly smile that pretends it wouldn't be a meager upgrade from the utilitarian bars he keeps handy, or that this isn't just an excuse to have him be the first vision she takes into the day.

laid beside each other, almost nose to nose, her eyes are full of his shadow and her ears are tuned to the sound of them breathing in tandem through the darkness; a comfort that quiets a busy mind, and muffles the drone of flying machines to a soft hum. ❛❛ that's what bees sound like. ❜❜ she whispers the thought aloud. what she means is: ( this place feels wrong and unnatural, but not when i'm with you. ) there's a thousand years worth of latent knowledge and memories beating in her veins. in the lab, the focus had been too much on downloading the ashari's destructive potential from it; but now, when the nights are less mired in the nightmares she still has of that place, a heart set to the downy magic of dusk can dream about the beauty that surrounded her ancestors too. that's the effect he has on her. ❛❛ i wish i could show you how it was before. ❜❜

[duskildan-arc]

there is nothing but a vast expanse of gray sky over gray concrete as far as the eye can see. even on the rooftops, where the sky is much closer and the air cleaner than down in the alleys and city rumble, freedom of nature's blessing ways is nothing but a mere hint, an afterthought made by those that have access to it at all times. vax'ildan has spent most of his life under overhung skies, bad views all around, and there is little to mend the monotony of it even in the knowledge that maybe out there is a world that looks different - or that in the past the world they are all saddled with now used to be more beautiful, more liveliness to it, more reason to hold onto it. the only reason he holds on is the people, his mismatched family somewhere in this world and more than anything now the woman he somehow not as much caught as that she caught him. that is where colour returns to his world and his life, where he finds that the sky is worth saving in some way after all.

it has always been a tightrope walk to keep his distance. if he is being honest, vax'ildan has admired keyleth the moment they met. not when she was someone he was supposed to find and deliver, when they stripped her of all she really is, but when he saw her and every thought of following through with the given task fall away. he has never seen someone brimming with hope and life, like those rare flowers that break through concrete in the summer heat, until he has seen the determination on her soft features and knew he couldn't let her fall into the wrong hands. he has admired her ever since, the feeling only growing, with new feelings interweaving with it whenever he just thinks of her. it would be her or no one else, he has known right away, to burrow beneath his armour and startle him awake out of the dark.

they could nearly pretend the outside whirring that underlies everything isn't present past the thin window, that the mutual silence between them is all there is. lying down next to her is something he doesn't quite know how to adjust to, but his body relaxes under her gaze like a bird's wing unfurling - all on its own accord, the rogue always on guard finally going still for a moment. " yeah? i don't think i ever heard a bee before, or more than one. i wish i'd know what that's like. but hearing you sleep, that's usually enough for me, " he whispers in the dark, the hint of a smile touching his mouth. there is a yearning in him, cavernous and endless, but not for the past. it is all for her, to be closer than they are right now, but he keeps the thin space between them like decorum not to spook her. not when she shares precious thoughts he rarely hears when she is sound asleep and he keeps vigil. " i have a courier job to run in the morning. i'll try not to - sneak out on you or breakfast. "

[duskildan-arc]

don't leave until the sun rises. ( from kiki !!!! )

FEEL MY RHYTHM, ACCEPTING.

the request is not much request as it is demand, softly uttered by her quiet voice and yet administrated straight from one heart into another. how could he not listen? how could he have ever fathomed an existence where he does not bend towards her, wind to branches and branches to earth? even if the whole world could stand against them, could doubt her or think of her not as capable as she exactly is, he could have never turned from that light nor that fire. it is that fierce burn that keeps him tethered to keyleth, that makes him lean his head in and listen to just chase another little snippet of the way her voice sounds when it evens out at the end of a sentence. to be caught in the centre of that voice, of the ever-turning quick pace overgrowth of her mind, and answer a demand he has hoped and wished for too many nights to count. there are fates far worse than this, than his, as long as she holds the thread in her hand for a second.

he is prone to leave before her, ever made for dusk rather than the bristling white light of dawn, but for her he'd make the time of night hours stand still. " okay, " he says and is unsure if his voice comes out steady or with a rasp telling her everything she'd need to know to understand the affect she has on him. even a nocturnal dweller craved that warmth, craved a glimpse of morning here and there, and with her around he craves it the same way his lungs need air. stripping down to his black under shirt and the trousers he always wears anyway, he finds himself far more human than he usually feels. she has that affect on him, too. then he lies down next to her instead of taking vigil at the foot of wherever she decided to rest. " i'm staying, kiki. i'm not going anywhere. not until you wake up anyway. "

[rainystarters]

* ☔ : dialogue inspired by lyrics and aesthetics from the album FEEL MY RHYTHM by red velvet. ( adjust pronouns, etc. as needed. )

this is gonna be a crazy night.

i can't stand a life without love.

dance for me.

i sway all night.

you're so beautiful.

in my dreams, you love me back.

come with me.

our souls are in sync.

bad girl.

i like this feeling right now.

it's okay. i'm ready.

should i go back?

don't lock yourself up in yesterday and tomorrow.

you look so crazy.

we will be happily forever after.

i've been waiting for you.

follow my lead.

sway with me.

you're overwhelmed with emotions.

work for me.

i come alive.

will today be bitter or sweet?

we're always reaching out for each other.

follow the song and dance in the moonlight.

my heart cleared after the rain came.

i don't think it's up to you.

your toxic is intoxicating.

i'm going mad.

lock me in your arms.

don't let go of this moment.

if you say the word, i'll do it.

you know i'm holding the keys.

feel my rhythm.

it's harder to believe in fantasy now.

beg for me, baby.

do you feel the vibe?

i love me.

i pray that you'll stay forever.

please don't stop.

a wonderful thing is happening.

make me kneel down.

die for me.

i don't know the way back to reality.

love me back.

hurry up and hold my hand.

did you engrave me in your heart?

bet on me.

follow my heartbeat.

our story is like falling into wonderland.

i call the shot, i'm the hunter.

there's a quiver spreading through me.

you can't avoid it, can you?

i still love you.

we're fun and wild and brave.

how can i see you?

you make me bet everything on you.

the more i get into it, the more it's dangerous.

you promised to last forever.

we're in an endless dream.

you know i have no reason to be like you?

shall we play?

it's perfect, much more than i imagined.

take it all, if you want.

when i close my eyes, it's like we're dancing through the sky.

it's only for a short time.

don't wake me up.

you give me a new direction.

light is spreading through my heart.

good boy.

i like you more than any version of me.

that happy ending was an illusion.

don't leave until the sun rises.

reveal more of your face.

your eyes shine with purpose.

i feel so free right now.

you're prettier than pretty words.

you're getting impatient, but i desire the best for me.

my heartbeat follows your body.

slowly taste it.

deceive me sweetly.

pop the champagne louder.

this is love.

you can't stop it.

i won't give it to you easily.

close your eyes.

i dazed out for a long time.

i'm falling for your sweet emotion.

bring out your freak.

[vethbrenatto]

Vax + “Kiki”