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Send me “Where she stops...” for a starter using the whump wheel
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@blood-and-fantasies (X)
Alain was right, Sol knew that the Dawnguard, at the end of the day, was a good thing to have. It was why he hadn't killed any of the men that were seeking to ambush his partner, merely incapacitated them and left them in the middle of the road, sure to be confused as to just what had hit them thanks to a mixture of well honed skills, a little paralysis poison, and his Nightingale ability to meld with the shadows. It was how he'd gotten so injured, a few hits needing to be endured to ensure his own wouldn't be deadly, but it was well worth it if he wanted to sleep at night. War with the Dawnguard wasn't what he wanted, and as much as he wanted to put every single one of their heads on a fucking pike to keep Alain safe, that was something best left for daydreams than to put into practice.
At least he could ensure Alain was safe this time, but if this didn't go how they'd planned, there was no telling what might come of it after, especially seeing as their fort was so close to Riften. They needed to nip this in the bud before anyone got killed, Sol knowing that if they succeeded in killing his beloved partner, or even Sol himself, whichever one was left alive would soon be close behind in the Evergloom.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't going to risk it." And he meant it, Sol hated having to sneak around, thief or not, but he'd die before he let the Dawnguard get what they wanted, especially with such a piss poor attempt at an ambush. "It was fucking insulting though, even that one guard that likes to pretend he's a top class thief doing his shitty shakedown at the gate was a better con than them." Though his words were clearly still filled with anger, the Lupine was quick to melt into Alain's hold, a heavy sigh leaving him both at the familar comfort of the chilled touch as well as the magick soothing his pains.
"...you suck at healing magick." A tease to ease his own mind just as much as Alain's, chuckled out through a grin as a kiss was pressed to the other's temple. "Thanks, love. And you're right, we need the Dawnguard, but it's like you said, they're wasting their time going after you, when the only one you've ever fed off of it me." Nuzzling the side of Alain's face, a playful nip was left just under his ear before Sol pulled away from the man entirely, going about changing from his tattered clothes to a fresh set.
"Don't need to send Bryn. You really think I would go all the way out there to deal with those idiots and not use it to send a message?" Another tease through a sly grin as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the trash, it beyond the effort of saving with how muddied and tattered it had become, with his pants soon to follow. "Poison should be wearing off soon, and by the time I get changed and make my way over to their fancy little fort, their leader should have gotten my letter I left with his men." One that spoke of a deal of sorts; the guild wouldn't touch any member they knew to be part of the Dawnguard, nor affliated with any among their ranks, no matter the title that was held. Cook, solider, weaponsmith, each one would be asked to provide a list of names and locations that would earn a Protected shadowmark. All of that in exchange for calling off the contract on Alain's head, something that was sure to earn the ire of both members of the Guild as well as the Dawnguard, but in the end it would be worth it for both parties, with the added benefit of weeding out anyone who might not be keen on following the rules along the way.
Pulling on a clean pair of pants, it was clear how desperate Sol was for this to work, it seeping through the steely determination fatigue was attempting to overtake in the heavy slump of his shoulders. "Where's that book on Dhampirs? Everything else aside, they really should know the difference for everyone's sake. The more men they waste sending after you, that could mean an actual vampire might get away with murder that night."
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@blood-and-fantasies cont. from (X)
It never failed to send a spark of warmth through his chest whenever Az mentioned having his favored food or drink, it not even something Bryn had realized he'd let on until the second or third time he'd arrived to chilled bottles and a fresh meal waiting for him. Hell, even he hadn't realized he'd had a preference until Az pointed it out, it simply never being something he thought much about in his day to day. He ate what he could when he could for so long, it never struck him that he leaned towards specific things whenever the option was allowed.
Though, even caught up in that warm, happy, love filled feeling, he hadn't missed the confusion around the reason for his prolonged stay, it pulling a fond chuckle out of the Nord. "Lad, there is no job, it was just an excuse to get away for a little while. It was Delvin's idea, guess he thought I could use the break with how hectic everything has gotten around the guild." And given how heavy the bags under his eyes were? Delvin was right to send Brynjolf away for a little while. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy the guild's starting to find it's footing again, but it's far more than I'm used to handling on my own."
Still, he seemed happier than he'd ever been, though one could argue that was thanks to present company rather than the growing prosperity of the Guild.
"I wouldn't mind a trip into the city, just so long as you're willing to deal with any good samaritians 'warning' you about who you're associating with." Said with a smirk and a laugh as he reached for his boots, it never failing to amuse him whenever someone 'informed' Az that he was with the Guild.
Heat starts to spread across his face as Az realizes that he fell for what should have been an easy lie to see through. Then again, he fell for all sorts of tricks, both from Bryn and from others. This was starting to become more par for the course, especially when Bryn told lies that were plausible. “I see… seems it was for the best if you fell asleep that soundly in an assassin’s home.” Not that that was a bad thing with Bryn. If anything, Azriel was glad to see there was somewhere he felt so perfectly at ease, especially since he didn’t expect Bryn to do any paperwork.
Besides, Azriel knew damn well how headache inducing new recruits could be. The dissolution of the old ways meant there were far less places for new members to get footholds in Skyrim, and even worse, there weren’t many that could train them in the old ways. It was rare that Sithis granted any mercy, but Arnbjorn being there to help him get the new members into shape was one of the greatest blessings the Night Mother could have given him.
Though, he wasn’t going to let any of that take time away that he could be giving to Brynjolf.
Chuckling as he redresses in something far less… bloody, Azriel shakes his head as he recalls all the times that seemed to happen to the two of them. “I’ve grown quite used to it after the hundredth time they’ve thought they’ve done me a favor. Perhaps this time you actually should try to snag my coinpurse instead of just touching me.” Was he teasing or being serious? It was hard to say, but there is a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he finishes getting ready, curly auburn hair being mussed slightly back into place before the assassin was ready.
Blatantly ogling the assassian as he got changed, Bryn let out a chuckle as stood with a brief stretch of his shoulders, one hand reaching out to ruffle Az's hair while the other rested on his hip. "Trying to get me run out of town, lad?" Teased with a fond grin, Bryn's mind already turning on different ways they could have fun messing with the townfolk, it having become one of his favored passtimes whenever going into the city with Az.
Also his favorite passtime?
"Here, if I'm to steal it later, you'll need this back." Stealing Az's stuff, just to see if he could get away with it, the man's coinpurse being tossed his way with a smug smirk. "You ready to go, lad?"
This isn’t exactly how he imagined venturing beyond the palace grounds. But honestly, it makes the most sense. How else could he be freed from the gilded cage aside from being beaten, bound, and brought… wherever this place is. Marteva hadn’t been permitted to be awake for much of the initial journey, a strike to the head ensuring his compliance. Drifting in and out of consciousness, broken pieces of being hauled over shoulders or tied upon the back of a horse.
The most vivid memory is of a figure breaking his wing. Bone and feathers cracking with a sickening sound. An unfamiliar pain that rooted DEEP within him, something odd about it… Something wrong.
Marteva prefers to not think about it.
It’s not as though there isn’t plenty else to take his attention, the bird tied up— arms bound behind his back and feet tied together as well, mouth gagged ( to quiet his incessant chirping ) —where he’s propped up against a decrepit wall; too drained to support himself. Their latest stop, what appears to be ruins of some sort. Curious blue eyes study the ones near his head, even through one eye trying to swell shut. May as well, while he has the opportunity. Keep his fogged mind busy. Distracted. The markings upon it are interesting, and who knows how long he has until they’re moving again. Or—
Tensing where he sits at the sound of a commotion near the entrance, he watches a few of the nearby bandits rush off to see what the trouble is. Hair fluffing like the ruffled feathers of a bird, keen gaze searches the darkness past what little light the fire offers. Keeping his breathing measured, he tries to stay as still and silent as possible, even the slightest shift of a feather could give him away. Not that there’s much he can do, chances slim… Futile, honestly. He can’t exactly move or find cover.
Marteva’s never felt like such a helpless fledgling, frustration bubbling in his guts as he exhaustedly glares into the unknown. — (( *throws a bird in here like a baseball* he’s going through the Horrors, but it’s fine jhnjgj ))
@canon-fcdder
Taking down a group of bandits that had taken to hiding in the otherwise abandoned ruins around Skyrim was hardly a rare occurrence, it being at least once a week the Companions were asked to clear one group or another out, and that wasn't even counting the bounties given to other wandering sellswords when the need called for more arms than what the Companions had. It was almost boring at this point, clearing out the various ruins and forts around Whiterun, Farkas expecting this one to be the same as every other, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the apparent hostage, he was so caught off guard. It wasn't the fact there was one that was a surprise, (even though they typically knew beforehand if someone had been taken, it often the reason they were even hired), but the fact that this one was some sort of bird person. He'd never heard of such a thing before, and sure, the cat and lizard people weren't a very common sight in Whiterun, but he'd still come across them a time or two in his life, but never a bird.
The men assumedly meant to guard said bird were child's play to cut down, it taking but a single swing of his greatsword to put an end to them, Farkas about to leave the room, thinking it cleared of bandits, only his werewolf instincts told him there was another somewhere, one that smelled...different than the humans he'd just cut down. The others would no doubt call him stupid for letting himself get distracted like this, to look for something unknown without anyone at his back, but something wasn't right, he could feel it...
Instincts proved true as he rounded a corner, amber eyes seeming to glow in the low firelight, not even needing a moment to adjust before they landed on the bird, where they were quickly filled with confusion. "Never seen a bird person before." A simple statement, curt and dry in its deep baritone as he lowered his sword, it crystal clear there was no threat to be had in either of them. "No one said anything about a hostage, would've moved quicker if we knew."
For as large as he was, the man was gentle as he lowered himself to a knee, greatsword to be traded for a knife on his belt to cut their binds. "I'm Farkas, one of the Companions sent to clear this place out of those bandits, but something tells me they weren't any of the usual type." An obvious observation, given who he was saying it to, yet another thing that would get him called an ice brain by Aela for pointing out.
Mouth being ungagged first, the Companion then set his sights on cutting their binds, obvious care being given as to not accidentally knick them with the blade. "You don't have to explain anything right now, that's better saved for the others. I just need to know if I have to carry you out of here or not." Name? Reason for even being there in the first place? Hardly his concern whether he felt himself smart or not. Only thing that mattered was getting the person obviously in need OUT, deciding if they actually needed to get run through with a blade could come later.
@blood-and-fantasies cont. (X)
Even now, Bryn can only laugh as he's tended to, it hardly helping the pain from the stab wound to his ribs, but he just couldn't help it. Az was-
"You're cute when you worry, lad" Was he teasing? Was he serious? Yes.
Either way, he commits to it despite it clearly not something he meant to say if the flush to his face was anything to go by as he quickly darted his gaze to the side. "Think of it this way, it's payback for when I did this to you last you came to see me, eh?" Another laugh, another wince of pain, the spasm of muscle soaking more blood into his shirt that at this point was beyond the effort of saving. It wasn't, he just wanted an excuse to steal one of Az's.
The kiss to the injury sparked something in Bryn, the Nord not even realizing he'd latched to the front of Az's shirt until after the hard press of their lips left him a bit breathless, with him slow to pull away as he let out a chuckle against them. "Might need to borrow a new shirt, if you'd be so kind."
@blood-and-fantasies cont. from (X)
It never failed to send a spark of warmth through his chest whenever Az mentioned having his favored food or drink, it not even something Bryn had realized he'd let on until the second or third time he'd arrived to chilled bottles and a fresh meal waiting for him. Hell, even he hadn't realized he'd had a preference until Az pointed it out, it simply never being something he thought much about in his day to day. He ate what he could when he could for so long, it never struck him that he leaned towards specific things whenever the option was allowed.
Though, even caught up in that warm, happy, love filled feeling, he hadn't missed the confusion around the reason for his prolonged stay, it pulling a fond chuckle out of the Nord. "Lad, there is no job, it was just an excuse to get away for a little while. It was Delvin's idea, guess he thought I could use the break with how hectic everything has gotten around the guild." And given how heavy the bags under his eyes were? Delvin was right to send Brynjolf away for a little while. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy the guild's starting to find it's footing again, but it's far more than I'm used to handling on my own."
Still, he seemed happier than he'd ever been, though one could argue that was thanks to present company rather than the growing prosperity of the Guild.
"I wouldn't mind a trip into the city, just so long as you're willing to deal with any good samaritians 'warning' you about who you're associating with." Said with a smirk and a laugh as he reached for his boots, it never failing to amuse him whenever someone 'informed' Az that he was with the Guild.
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