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Since I got the lovely shadow ban, please go follow @jadethornguild :)
Gonna go walk the dog, brb
Aaaand we’re back!
Gonna go walk the dog, brb
xarakaas:
Gods he felt so stiff, he’d have to find time to train a bit later on if this kept up. He’d keep an eye out for some kind of training room as he went around, stretching and popping as he worked his way downstairs and towards the delicious smells catching his attention.
“Hrrrggghhh…What in the world is that smell?”
A very effective bait for a starving, stretching, tiefling who hasn’t eaten in over half a week, that’s what. He’d give a light nod towards the giant of a man as he greeted him, still twisting and turning his body trying to get that one last ‘pop’ out of his back.
“From what I was quickly told…I’m surprised you all didn’t just toss me outside somewhere. Guess I appreciate the fact you didn’t though.” He’d take a minute to look over his surroundings, searching through the very few faces around him for the Siren’s…just on the off chance he could at least see how she had handled everything herself. Though…maybe it was for the best when he found her nowhere to be seen…the muddled and somewhat unsavory thoughts in his head hadn’t yet completely quieted.
On he’d listen to the list of mouthwatering foods, finally realizing just how hungry he truly was when he was nearly disappointed that she stopped. Though…that did remind him of something.
“Oh…uh…here. Know you said those drinks were on the house but…I’m not really gonna take advantage of all that.” For a moment he’d dig into the sash that was often wrapped around his waist, a tiny pouch sewn into one of the folds. Pulling out two solid gold coins, nearly a fifth of his tournament earnings he gathered to repair Evelyn’s instrument…he luckily had a bit extra to work with, and considering the drinks really weren’t likely the last of his needs…the extra would probably cover most of it for today.
“I’m not accepting that.” Bouncing the stack of paper neatly together, she folded and tucked them into the large front pocket of her apron. “But if you’re that concerned about it, I can find some work for you to do around the guild to earn your keep. Speaking of work...” A very pointed glance had the giant throwing his hands up and backing away from the bar.
“Alright, alright, I’m goin’.” The smile never leaving his face as he lumbered past the tiefling. Stopping short just as he was about to duck under the arch of the exit into the hall and head downstairs, “Oh, can you send Hector my way when he finally rolls out of bed?”
“Yep.”
“Much obliged, ma’am.” Down to three, she gestured to the tiefling to take a seat somewhere. To let her know when he knew what he wanted so she could pile his plate high with it. The business about him trying to pay, however, for what she graciously gave was not about to be had a second time. Going forward though... she had no qualms with putting him to work. If he planned to stay much longer with them at all.
Steam curled from the stacked plate of food when she finally brought it out. A masterpiece of carb and protein decadence. “Showers are back through that hallway you came out of. Hang a left and just keep walking until you hit the door at the end.” A not so delicate way of telling him he reeked. But when had she ever been? “Just turn the handle to control the temperature of the water when it comes out of the pipe. I’ll make sure there’s fresh towels in there.” Knowing the wasteful women of the guild, they probably used every single one that she had laid out already.
Meanwhile, upstairs, the other sleeping beauty was finally groaning her way out of bed. Unable to handle the tight, greasy feel of her own skin and moused hair after last night’s “experiment”. Intent and hellbent on making her own way to the showers before she peeled of her skin-figuratively and literally-in a tizzy. So sleep deprived that she didn’t even bother poking her head around the corner and into the tavern to wish anyone a good morning. Shuffling right on by. Confident that the tiefling was still upstairs fast asleep. Especially since Angelica had promised to let the siren know when he woke up.
At the very least this gave Kadrel a chance to catch some dream sheep of her own. Before she dragged Dalton out to the training grounds later in the afternoon.
xarakaas:
A constant stream of horrid memories came alongside this strange…numb…sting. The faint path her finger followed for no time at all…still being felt as she pulled her hand away, the touch like a haunting echo refusing to die out.
He could almost feel the burn of hot iron again, hear the sound of his own skin bubbling and smoking, the ache in his quickly shredded vocal cords as he roared out in pain so long ago.
No. No. He wasn’t going to go through all this right now. He refused. Those damned memories were dead in the past and this mark was nothing more than another wound from something that failed to kill him. He just…needed to steady himself. Pull himself back to the current moment and focus.
Without a word his hand would blindly reach behind him, missing a few times before landing upon her arm. Carefully pulling it back towards him and placing her hand upon his shoulder…it was something to focus on, something here, something real, something to anchor his thoughts onto. That embarrassed tint on his cheeks moments ago, the sensation of delicate fingers running through his hair, the slow and relaxed breaths. He tried to bring his thoughts back to that, his hitched unsteady breathing beginning to be paced out and calm…his head lulling forward ever so slightly.
“..s-sorry. I just…forgot it was there for a second.”His voice was slowly coming back to it’s normal tone, the waves of memories being fought off successfully for the time being.
Having clamped her eyes shut, the siren didn’t see him grasping for her until his hand closed down around her forearm. Almost starting at the contact. Breathing forgotten entirely for the few seconds it took for the skin to warm against her palm. Silence followed his voice, stretching taut, the crackling of the campfire the only interruption in the moment.
But then, a decision was made and the twigs and dirt behind him would shift. Her palm stayed connected to him as she walked around to his side, but glided across the plane of his bowed back and hooked over the opposite side along his ribs. Into the space on his right, she scooted over on the log until her cheek could rest agains this shoulder. Between them her hand having slid into place at the crook of his elbow. Circles steadily stroking there, reassuring, with the pad of her thumb.
“It’s okay.” She muttered back, staring into the flames of the fire. Their rabbit burnt to a crisp. Not that it mattered in the slightest. “It’s okay.” For tonight, maybe the only night, she decided she could use her powers to bring him peace. Let the contact of her skin on his subtly, slowly, mercifully, ease him back from the nightmares behind his eyes. Stay sitting with him until he no longer wanted her there or until the dawn cut through the pine needles and raised twilight’s curtain.
calm down. calm down.
xarakaas:
A fever? Well, that would be a fair back up excuse if he couldn’t manage to get this damned heat to stop coming to his face. His breaths would grow ever so slightly slower and longer, a casual attempt to adjust and calm his touch starved nerves.
Onward she’d work, his body still relaxed as his trust in her was still holding strong. She wasn’t a stranger, and if she wanted to try and kill him she would have had ample opportunity to try by now…he could stay calm.
Yet, as she finally finished the intricate braid, moving it as best she could for him to see, a curious finger finding it’s way towards the edges of the usually hidden brand…
…his body would freeze, and his calm breathing would stop entirely.
Eyes bolting wide as the sensation rocked through his form, a muffled sensation of touch coming through long damaged nerves. A carefully guarded mark upon his body, forgotten and left vulnerably exposed…seen by another for the first time in decades. Eventually his breathing would start again, somewhat shaky and hesitant, if only to keep himself from passing out. He didn’t want to move an inch.
“I-it..is.” His voice would hold none of its usual strength, just a soft whisper. He trusted her, and he was trying not to let his usually volatile reactions break through, but this was…a vulnerability, a weakness, a memory.
“…it’s…the symbol of Kord…it was…branded onto me..”Another hesitant response, his shaky breathing taking quite a bit of focus just to force through his lungs. Even speaking of the mark of that bastard god etched into his flesh shattering any trace of the once seemingly unbreakable tiefling warrior.
There was something in that rigidness, a terror behind it. Evelyn watched. She watched his shoulders, the muscles flexing up into his neck and shooting down his ram rod spine. Inhaling sharply, realizing her mistake then. She ripped her hand back. Flying to cover to her mouth in abject horror. How could she be so stupid? What in the gods possessed her to just reach out and....
Those angry eyes had been his pain untold, his ferocity a shield against this hell, a cornered animal lashing out in self-defense. Everything up until that moment making so much more sense. The obsession with this god, Kord, the drive to throw himself at life head first and to come out bloody and victorious on the other side. Every glare, snarl, and vicious word--
Colors and light began to blur in her eyes, stinging, a furious attempt made to blink the moisture away. The shock of it all a sucker punch to the gut. ‘They branded him like a prized mustang, prettied cattle for the slaughter.’
Behind her hands, struggling through the words, “I... I’m sorry I shouldn’t have...” not trusting herself to speak too loud, too much. Afraid he’d turn and see the emotion threatening to overflow before she could steady herself. Emotions she had no right to feel on his behalf. Not after all this time.
xarakaas:
She wasn’t entirely wrong, as a small ‘hmph..’ would escape him at her comment, yet it was more akin to a stifled chuckle than any real dismissive scoff. He was glad to have her help as well, not that he’d say it outright. Though, the faint hint of purple filling his cheeks may have spoken volumes to that appreciation…perhaps a bit too loud.
“O-oh..uh…yeah, that might be a good idea.” He figured he might as well go along with the ‘excuse’ she so kindly gave him, he wasn’t about to admit he just didn’t know how to handle affection and kindness very much. Even the gentle touch of her fingers resting just behind his ears was making that faint heat continue, the tips of his ears also showing the slightest bit of warmer color.
It was odd, that gentle touch sending small chills through his body, as if it was experiencing something new and strange. He hadn’t even realized just how…foreign it was to him, so accustomed to the touch of forged steel or fang…that gentle digits running through his hair brought a seemingly unstoppable tint of warmth to his face.
“Uh…thanks..by the way.” Another habit he was attempting to break, taking actions as they were with no real signs of appreciation…not that it wasn’t there, but he had quite the tendency to simply say nothing in return. He’s at least learned that saying something often keeps others from getting irritated with him.
“A thank you too? Maybe you’re running a fever.” Laughter, a muted noise but genuine in it’s exhale and possibly the first time he’s heard it since they started traveling together. Throatier, richer, than her singing voice.
Soon her fingers were back at work, combing through his hair. Only when she was sure there wouldn’t be any snags did she begin to combine the plaits with the lower back half. Twining them together, sections of five instead of three, into a tight, fluid braid. “There.” She sighed, at last knotting the very tip to keep it all from unravelling again. Sweeping it back over his shoulder so that he could inspect what he could of her handiwork. “All d... done.”
Beckoned again her eyes would drift to the scarring. To the detailing that had refused to be healed and smoothed with time. The pale blue edges so thin, yet more beastly than any other scar she’d seen on his body. Glaring up at her in all its horrid glory.
Without thinking, her fingers came up and, just barely, sighed over the raised edges of a thunderbolt. Tracing its edge. Nothing more than a whisper across his neck. Her voice equally as soft as she wondered, “...Is... is this from back then, too?”
Link: [X]
xarakaas:
He’d pay no attention to the hesitation, thinking it nothing of importance…nearly forgetting the fact the hidden brand was on his neck as it was. A greater section of it now visible as she moved his hair to the side, a design, intentionally crafted and burnt into the back of his neck.
It appeared to be something similar to the appearance of a standard wooden buckler shield, yet from the center, stretching out towards all four corners, were odd lightning bolt shapes. The design was detailed enough that one could only imagine how long and how much pressure must have been put into the glowing iron that left him with this mark.
“Yeah, well…it’s habits I’m trying to break.”Even now as he allowed her to work away at his hair, all his nerves would tell him to stay tense, it took an active effort to allow himself to relax and simply enjoy the helping hand. That…and fight any faint purple shades appearing upon his face at the touch, growing ever so slightly more difficult as her fingers gently tapped his jaw. He still…hadn’t quite adjusted to all this. “Uh..yeah..”
His hair, pale as the season’s first snow, moved in the breeze as if it felt the need to add an exclamation point to his tumultuous peeks into the past. Such a stark contrast, she thought idly, to hers of a black of velvety nights, strands of it playing on the air.
“Glad to be of service then.” She murmured, a small smile in her voice. Figuring he’d probably scoff or roll his eyes at that. Unable to see his face right then. Honestly, she was just enjoying having something to do. The nights were getting longer and being left alone with her thoughts was becoming a dangerous problem.
Working around the alarming scarring, as if her fingertips might cause it to blister upon contact, she moved quickly to plait the top center and other side of his head. A practiced seamstress falling into rhythm. That’s when she’d spy it. Something skipping a beat in her chest as a reaction, but it wasn’t that frosted heart. She’d never seen Kamos blush, he was always stoic, in charge and to be honest, annoyingly self assured. So when Evelyn saw that dusting of violet in his cheeks she knew something was afoot.
“If you’re too warm...” she paused, fingers coming to rest along the base of his skull, grazing just behind the lobes of his ears, “we can scoot you back away from the fire. I’m almost done otherwise.”
How these three be feeling right now.
There’s a way to break the “siren curse”.
And no, it’s not with true love’s kiss or making a deal with a sea witch.
Honestly I’m not gonna even be cryptic about it lol.
In order to break the siren’s curse, a siren has to find and confront the individual or group that was responsible for their murder at sea.
Sirens do not consciously remember what these persons look or sound like. They will recognize them as soon as they hear or lay eyes on them though (it’s an instinctive thing and it causes them to feel a lot of negative emotions).
As a result, it’s almost impossible to find these people. To make things harder, if the murderer dies before the siren can confront them then they are cursed until they die.
There’s a way to break the “siren curse”.
And no, it’s not with true love’s kiss or making a deal with a sea witch.
xarakaas:
It took a moment for him to recompose himself, adjusting to the drastically different scenery than that endless dreamscape he had just been ejected from…the faint chill of sea water felt as though it was still lingering upon his skin. Yet, here he was, waking in some strange room separate from the open drinking area he vaguely remembered being in, his memory still somewhat fuzzy. Nothing of a huge surprise, but he had assumed he’d wake either as he last remembered, head down at that table…or tossed outside somewhere in the dark corners of this strange city beneath a mountain.
Perhaps the people here weren’t all that bad, at least not so far.
He felt oddly stiff as he began pacing and exploring the room he had found himself in, pops and cracks echoing from disused joints as he attempted to stretch and flex away the unwelcome feeling. He couldn’t have been out cold for that long right?
Though…he did notice a lack of a certain kind of headache after the drinks.
As he was attempting to return to his normal flexible and active state, the faint sound of approaching steps would catch his attention. Somewhat suspicious eyes watching the door with the utmost care…just because some of them decided to drop him off in a room instead of outside on the stone…didn’t mean they were all of the kind sorts.
Knock Knock Knock
“Y-yeah?” At least they had the courtesy to announce themselves, a bit of relief coming along with that gesture…if they were here to try and kill him for one of the many things he has done while here, they likely wouldn’t try saying hello first. “Wait…two nights…and three days..?”He’d mutter as the door was shut once more, trying to process how that small moment of time spent in his mind was nearly four days in reality.
Well, it definitely explained some things, the lack of a hangover, and the stubborn ache in his muscles and joints.
His issues with that wasted time being promptly sat aside however, as he began to do as he was told…opening and stepping out the door, hoping to see at least one familiar face in particular downstairs somewhere.
That…and silence this persistent growling coming from his stomach…
…and…maybe a shower…
Of all the colors of the rainbow, she did not expect him to be Robert William’s Genie blue. In fact, she was so taken aback she just openly gawked as he disappeared down the stairs and out of view. Eventually muttering to herself, “Just when I thought I’d seen it all....”
Kamos would not be so lucky in all aspects of his mission. There was food, yes, the fragrant aromas of meats and baked and cooking goods were calling to him from the doorway to the kitchen behind the bar. However, there was no trace of said particular face having graced the ground floor with her presence. Most likely still asleep at this hour. Not that he knew yet how to track time in a city without a skyline. A shower would need to be sought elsewhere in the building.
“Look who rose from the dead.” Dalton’s rough, jaunty voice would be the first thing to assault the tiefling’s ears when he entered. Having walked in on the half-giant and manager discussing what appeared to be a small stack of documents on parchment paper in her hands. She being behind the bar, while the mountianous man loomed opposite of her. His forearms taking up at least two seat spaces as he leaned against the bartop, one ankle resting over the other where he stood. He smiled. “Good t’ see you up and movin’ again. Thought for a second that we’d be needing th’ undertaker t' pay a visit.”
Tucked into his usual perch in the booth near the entrace of the tavern, the opposite diagnal corner of the bar, Kylar was hunched over the table. A small cloth in one hand and something distinctly sharp and polished in the other. Next to him was a piping hot cup of something. Tendrils of steam visible in the cool morning temperature. Occasionally picked up to be sipped from before it was set aside again. At the edge of the table was a well and truly cleaned plate of what must have been breakfast. Not a crumb to be found on the ceramic.
Without looking up Angelica interjected with, “Hungry?”, cycling the top piece of parchment to the back and continued to scan the script. Brows knitted in what could be summed up as concentrated vexation. “There’s goose eggs, oven’s still baking the biscuits, the hog just came out of the smoker this morning... porridge...” She trailed off gradually as she delved deeper into what she was reading. Grumbling some gibberish under her breath that sounded suspiciously along the lines of, “money leeching bastards”.
oh sorry i was thinking about myself did you want something
squints at kylar
He just wanted to go to bed.
The powers that be, however, had decided many moons ago that he should be plagued with insomnia and thus here he sat--slouched on the bench in the front corner near the tavern entrance of the Jadethorn Guild. An untouched mug of some sort of ale sitting on the table next to his propped elbow. The suds having long since evaporated from the surface of the amber liquid.
Around him were buzzes of conversation from various parties. Drunken gnats enjoying the Angelica’s strong pour behind the bar near the back of room. A sigh loosed out of him then, stretching his neck in order to shake off the uncomfortable feeling lingering there. It couldn’t be helped, could it?
Eventually, his gaze would flick to a particular lass a few tables away. Pointedly. The sharp blue of his stare holding the warm oak of hers. From the moment she had entered and sat down, he had been keenly aware of her presence. Just as, he assumed anyway, she of him. Given that she kept looking his direction every few minutes, lingering on him. Too often to assume that she was scanning for someone else in the crowd.
Sitting up more, he would come to rest both elbows on the table. Laying one on top of the another along the table surface and faced her directly. Sketching a brow as if to ask: Yes?