Just you and me, that&#x27;s what I&#x27;m saying.

"Bishop!…" The hiss was strangely reminding of a viper ready to strike and contained every possible negative emotion, ranging from disgust, hate and antagonism to a promise of painful and slow death – and some more things, equally unpleasant. It seemed that you had a misfortune of being noticed by "Knight Captain" once again…

Bishop’s shoulders tensed before the venom even spilled from the she-beast’s mouth. He ended his stride and spoke, as snide as ever, over his shoulder instead of actually turning around to address the Ophelia. “Ah, a wench, just what I needed today. See, there’s something in the forest that’s just begging for me to kill it, and it’s thirsty work, hunting. So, wench, do be sure to have a pitcher of ale readied for my return this evening. If it’s cold I might even tip you a copper.”

Thread start

She chuckled, when he broke his arrow, it was a sight that filled her to no end with satisfaction. Seeing his blind rage was always pleasing, to see the same hate in his eyes, to know, she was able to hurt him so badly he was losing his mocking demeanor and let his guard slip to reveal what he truly were – a monster, nothing more.

And she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t be afraid anymore, anyway. That much worse for him.

When he started to approach her, she only took a step closer instead of avoiding confrontation. “And how you would do that, hm?” she said, looking straight into his eyes. This wouldn’t end well. Like always. “You need a help of a mage and every mage here works for me~…” the tone of her voice turned from growling to melodic mocking. “You can, of course, try to contact your Luskan friends… You’ll get along quite well.” Her lips curved into a despicable smirk. “That one night in Redfallow’s Watch they indeed managed to turn you in the image and likeness of them.” Her green eyes were dark like poison. “Mirror reflection, even…”

Instead of stopping when Bishop came up against Ophelia, he simply placed his hands on her waist and pushed her backwards, continuing his march towards the nearest wall. Bishop’s chilled grin remained plastered to his face just as before, even if he felt more burning rage than cold sadism after Ophelia’s reminder about the family blackmail business. Bishop spoke with a smooth lilt as he pushed more on the woman’s waist. “Every mage here works for you, my lady, but not every mage anywhere.” "But given your brazen lack of fear, the Luskans must not have turned me into their likeness after all; a good thing, for you."

#Ophelia #singerofmilil

((So people know: I've got all of these in my drafts. They're pretty old, but I still plan on responding to them all; especially the 'Had a Change of Heart' ones, as that's a really interesting idea to explore (and there's a bunch of people out there that'd like to see it, I assume). Of course, though, the HACOH ones are the most difficult to do.

Essentially, they're on my to do list and I apologise for the wait, just hang in there a little longer, yeah?))

#((OOC))#delete

[Closed] A whole new world?

Thread start

Using Kaji to steady her as she got to her feet (which would have worked much better if he didn’t keep flapping up and down and if the sand would stop tilting under her) Safiya took long, slow breaths, trying to get the nausea under control. There wasn’t too much to do about the migraine, short of ice and willowbark, neither of which appeared to be available on this beach…

The figure was approaching her. She straightened her spine, trying to hide her current state as best as possible in favour of her usual calm and controlled demeanour. It didn’t feel convincing, but - oh, Szass Tam, it was Bishop - Bishop wasn’t looking at her anyway.

He snapped a question at her. Her tone waspish rather than scathing, she replied, “I’m a wizard, not some woods-roaming, track-reading wanderer who knows the wilderness. Why don’t you tell me where we are, ranger?”

#Kaji #Safiya #Kajiandsafiya #A whole new world?#((I never knew Bishop would be so uncomfortable in unfamiliar territory until now))#((And of course Bishop deals with being uncomfortable by lashing out at others))#((Of course))

Bishop let the last arrow he could find slide back into the quiver. Attaching the container to himself, where it rightly belonged, he stood up and turned to face Safiya and, unfortunately, her pet. "Oh yes, I'll just look at the shape of the non existent tracks on this beach and figure out what goddamned territory you spirited us off to. Oh, while I'm at it I'll just puzzle my way through why you brought us both here." Bishop's tone was snide, and his glare sharp.

[Closed] A whole new world?

Swallowing felt gritty. Thirst. Not a familiar sensation, but not unknown either. Bishop began to flex his hand… Not only did his throat feel gritty, so did his palm. Sand? It would be most likely. A few stray hairs brushed across his forehead, signalling, along with the sand on the underside of Bishop’s hand, that he was laying on his back on a beach. The last thing he could remember was bumping into Safiya and her annoying pet in the halls. Waking up with no explanation as to how you got there is a very bad thing all on it’s own; the possible involvement of the red wizard did not make Bishop any more comfortable. Bishop flipped onto his hands and knees to shield his eyes from the potentially harsh sunlight before opening them enough to try and ascertain his situation. He was, in fact, at a small shoreline, which became more fine the closer it got to the water. Thick, tall trees encircled the shore, and there were no ships in the water. Bishop opened his eyes fully, allowed a half moment for them to adjust, grabbed one of his many daggers that were, thankfully, still on his person. Standing, Bishop turned to scan the shore behind him and caught brilliant red on the glittering gold of the sand.

As a matter of course Safiya woke instantly, fully aware of her surroundings and potential threats in the vicinity. It was a habit long ago instilled by Academy life, and only on a handful of occasions had it ever failed her. As she lay curled up on a warm, hard, scratchy surface she couldn’t recognise (but it would stop spinning soon, she hoped), sunlight glaring scarlet on her closed eyelids, her head throbbing as if someone had been using it for a kickball, fighting down the nausea, Safiya could add another failure to the list.

She had been… she had been (Szass Tam, she could think through the pain and the queasiness, but it was difficult)… she had been in the Keep, going down to the library, and she’d literally run into… Bishop, yes… then -

- Nothing. Just a void, and waking up here - wherever here was - and she was still lying here with her eyes closed, an easy target…

She pried her eyelids open, forced herself to sit up despite the terrible migraine and the spinning world. It got a little better, but only marginally, when she was able to focus on her surroundings.

A… seashore? Somebody there, standing silhouetted against the brightness?

"Szass Tam," she groaned, her voice sounding hoarse in her own ears as Kaji fluttered up (apparently she’d been lying on him, squashing him into the sand), "this doesn’t make any sense…"

#Safiya #Kajiandsafiya #((Well apparently Bishop had a big cup of bitch coffee with a sprinkle of poorly hidden accusation this afternoon))#A whole new world?

When Bishop saw the red figure sit up, presumably Safiya, though it was a bit difficult to tell with the state of his eyes and the distance, Bishop began to trudge over to to them. With the sand so fine this close to the water, finding solid footing was a challenge. He looked to the forest at his right longingly. Unfamiliar territory, but anywhere was better than this shore. Bishop spied his bow on the other side of Safiya - he could definitely tell it was her now - along with his empty quiver with arrows splayed about it. He deliberately circled around Safiya without a look or a word, dropped to his knees, and began collecting his arrows to place back in the quiver, dusting them off as he went. Without turning around, he asked, "Where in the hells are we, woman?"

"Bishop!…" The hiss was strangely reminding of a viper ready to strike and contained every possible negative emotion, ranging from disgust, hate and antagonism to a promise of painful and slow death – and some more things, equally unpleasant. It seemed that you had a misfortune of being noticed by "Knight Captain" once again…

Bishop’s shoulders tensed before the venom even spilled from the she-beast’s mouth. He ended his stride and spoke, as snide as ever, over his shoulder instead of actually turning around to address the Ophelia. “Ah, a wench, just what I needed today. See, there’s something in the forest that’s just begging for me to kill it, and it’s thirsty work, hunting. So, wench, do be sure to have a pitcher of ale readied for my return this evening. If it’s cold I might even tip you a copper.”

The chuckle that tore from Ophelia’s throat seemed more like a growl now. “Hate receiving orders, yet so fond of giving them… Like a real prissy noble, I see. You do fit nicely in the merry band of Nasher’s lapdogs… I cheer up for the hunted something, then. I do hope you’ll end up with ripped off throat.”

She slowly took a few steps to the side, her movements quiet and trained, a cruel, mocking smile upon her lips, her hands at the hilts of her rapiers. Just like a wolf that was preparing itself to jump on its’ pray.

Her green eyes were dark as venom and there was nothing in them except pure, distilled hate.

Bishop’s mirthless laugh rang loudly off of the stone walls of the keep, draped all over with Ophelia’s symbol, and that of neverwinter. His muscles tensed as his shoulders had, primed to defend against any threats shown to the body, and he turned around, fetching and ‘inspecting’ an arrow from his quiver as he did so. "Oh, that one’s rich, Knight Captain. See, I can grab my sack and head onto some overgrown path somewhere any time I want and leave you fools without any idea where to go. You, on the other hand, actually have to answer to Nasher’s every beck and call, being one of the Nine. So sure, maybe I’m dancing the line of Nasher’s lapdogs right now, but you, my dear Knight Captain, are at the head of this little pack of yipping puppies.”

The strike hurt. And he had a nerve to call her by that damnable title!… But she was prepared for that.

Hit when it hurts the most.

“Then why you don’t leave?” she titled her head with the same horrible smile. “Why don’t you just run far away from here, like a free, proud wolf you are, huh?” She narrowed her eyes. “Because I still have your dragger? Because I can use it to scry on you and simply find you by magical means, no matter, where you will hide?” She was congratulating herself on that decision almost daily. One of the best ideas she ever had. Who knew that old hunting dagger Bishop was forced to give to Marcus in Ember later would be of use to her personally.

“It is a great pleasure to know that I managed to…” she gestured towards her own neck, running a fingertip along her throat, “put a collar on that proud wolf…”

With Ophelia's gesture, and her comment about the 'collar', a loud snap resounded through the keep. A sharp pang in Bishop's palm signalled him that he'd snapped the wooden shaft of the arrow in two, and that a sliver or three had worked their way into his flesh. He dropped the broken thing like a dead carcass, and took extra care to grind it against the ground as he walked closer to the Knight Captain, intent on cornering her. "You speak as though," he began to grin chillingly as he advanced, "no one has ever avoided scrying attempts before, dearest Knight Captain." The last three words were so drenched in venom they may as well have been spat out by a snake.

#Ophelia #singerofmilil

"Bishop!…" The hiss was strangely reminding of a viper ready to strike and contained every possible negative emotion, ranging from disgust, hate and antagonism to a promise of painful and slow death – and some more things, equally unpleasant. It seemed that you had a misfortune of being noticed by "Knight Captain" once again…

Bishop’s shoulders tensed before the venom even spilled from the she-beast’s mouth. He ended his stride and spoke, as snide as ever, over his shoulder instead of actually turning around to address the Ophelia. “Ah, a wench, just what I needed today. See, there’s something in the forest that’s just begging for me to kill it, and it’s thirsty work, hunting. So, wench, do be sure to have a pitcher of ale readied for my return this evening. If it’s cold I might even tip you a copper.”

The chuckle that tore from Ophelia’s throat seemed more like a growl now. “Hate receiving orders, yet so fond of giving them… Like a real prissy noble, I see. You do fit nicely in the merry band of Nasher’s lapdogs… I cheer up for the hunted something, then. I do hope you’ll end up with ripped off throat.”

She slowly took a few steps to the side, her movements quiet and trained, a cruel, mocking smile upon her lips, her hands at the hilts of her rapiers. Just like a wolf that was preparing itself to jump on its’ pray.

Her green eyes were dark as venom and there was nothing in them except pure, distilled hate.

#singerofmilil #Ophelia #((Uh-oh))

Bishop's mirthless laugh rang loudly off of the stone walls of the keep, draped all over with Ophelia's symbol, and that of neverwinter. His muscles tensed as his shoulders had, primed to defend against any threats shown to the body, and he turned around, fetching and 'inspecting' an arrow from his quiver as he did so. "Oh, that one's rich, Knight Captain. See, I can grab my sack and head onto some overgrown path somewhere any time I want and leave you fools without any idea where to go. You, on the other hand, actually have to answer to Nasher's every beck and call, being one of the Nine. So sure, maybe I'm dancing the line of Nasher's lapdogs right now, but you, my dear Knight Captain, are at the head of this little pack of yipping puppies."

"Bishop!…" The hiss was strangely reminding of a viper ready to strike and contained every possible negative emotion, ranging from disgust, hate and antagonism to a promise of painful and slow death – and some more things, equally unpleasant. It seemed that you had a misfortune of being noticed by "Knight Captain" once again…

Bishop’s shoulders tensed before the venom even spilled from the she-beast’s mouth. He ended his stride and spoke, as snide as ever, over his shoulder instead of actually turning around to address the Ophelia. “Ah, a wench, just what I needed today. See, there’s something in the forest that’s just begging for me to kill it, and it’s thirsty work, hunting. So, wench, do be sure to have a pitcher of ale readied for my return this evening. If it’s cold I might even tip you a copper.”

#Ophelia #singerofmilil #asks

[Closed] A whole new world?

Swallowing felt gritty. Thirst. Not a familiar sensation, but not unknown either. Bishop began to flex his hand... Not only did his throat feel gritty, so did his palm. Sand? It would be most likely. A few stray hairs brushed across his forehead, signalling, along with the sand on the underside of Bishop's hand, that he was laying on his back on a beach. The last thing he could remember was bumping into Safiya and her annoying pet in the halls. Waking up with no explanation as to how you got there is a very bad thing all on it's own; the possible involvement of the red wizard did not make Bishop any more comfortable. Bishop flipped onto his hands and knees to shield his eyes from the potentially harsh sunlight before opening them enough to try and ascertain his situation. He was, in fact, at a small shoreline, which became more fine the closer it got to the water. Thick, tall trees encircled the shore, and there were no ships in the water. Bishop opened his eyes fully, allowed a half moment for them to adjust, grabbed one of his many daggers that were, thankfully, still on his person. Standing, Bishop turned to scan the shore behind him and caught brilliant red on the glittering gold of the sand.

#Kajiandsafiya #Safiya #A whole new world?

blossomfully

How dangerous,” she thought, “to finally have something worth losing.

Ten word story (via blossomfully)

Do you have a favourite scar?

Bishop looked up from his seat by the fire - despite the angle, he still couldn't make out a face underneath those damned grey hoods. He was drunk, and there were some halfway decent looking people in the tavern, so why not, he thought. Standing up abruptly, he began unbuckling and eventually, after much fiddling, found himself bare chested. He ran his hand down his own chest briefly before pointing at a very old, faded scar along his left ribcage. The white scar tissue contrasted heavily against the tan of his chest, and formed an abnormal dip along his would-be smooth flesh. He cleared his throat before speaking."My first kill gave me this one. It wasn't my first scar by a long shot, but this is the first animal to give me a scar and actually die by my hand."He began tracing the jagged old wound back and forth."That was the first night in a week I had eaten."

#Anonymous #asks #((He willingly removed armour he must be on the verge of alcohol poisoning))

✿ and ♦?

✿ - Okay, very awkward headcanon here, the most prominent sexual headcanon I have for Bishop is that he’s a necrophile. He views death as such a desirable thing, because of the freedom it promises him. Bishop will do whatever it takes for him to survive, but outside of that he doesn’t much care to exercise self-control. He drinks as much as he wants of whatever he wants, he says what he wants, and does what he wants. Other people’s corpses are about as close as his philosophy would really allow him to get to death, and I think he’d do whatever he could to get even just a taste of what he wants so badly.That said, Bishop as I play him, is not a necrophile, as that could make a lot of people really uncomfortable really fast. I probably would play him as such if specifically asked to explore that, but only with all branches of the thread under read mores and tagged appropriately.

♦ - Bishop’s biggest hobby: Whittling. It’s something he can easily do while travelling/hunting/etc, the materials needed are literally wood (can you imagine him away from a tree for longer than a few nights?) and a knife, and good carvings can be sold or traded for things. Plus, it allows him to express the creative side that he would completely deny ever having. Although I’m not sure why, I also imagine that he’d refuse to whittle with anything other than the knife that KC (might) give to the kid in Ember, which would explain why he’s so annoyed about the thing when the KC gives it away.

#((OOC))#bigmeandragonlady #asks #((Oh my god I am so sorry it took me forever to get to this))#((I hope it's satisfying enough to excuse the wait))

(Jezza Sorria) The woman eyed him from under the lip of her black, silken hood and smirked. So early and the man was already drunk. With a little, low laugh, she voiced that sentiment. "Drunk already, man? T'would be a shame should you forget this whole night, don't you think?"

Bishop quickly turned on his heel with a slight wobble to look at the girl. Instead of levelling a glare at her as he normally would have, a smile spread across his face - and he knew any of his companions who had seen that were never going to stop cracking jokes about ‘that time that Bishop’s face cracked enough to smile’. "Come now, m’lady," he gave a bow that looked sincere, though anyone who knew him would know it to be quite the opposite, "The drink simply makes a night more fun, and if you’re careful not to get more drunk than this, you can usually remember at least half of the night.” Even more surprising than his smile, Bishop now laughed.Then, taking a step closer, he said, “I didn’t catch your name.”

daughterofsorria

Jezza chuckled and followed his gesture with her eyes. “Well, I s’pose I am not too worried about being seen. If they have drank as much as you, they’ll only remember half the night, yes?” She made a little pout that she didn’t quite feel. “Should I be worried that you’ll forget me, too?”

He had not scoffed at her or spat in her direction. That was always nice, she reflected. And he didn’t seem about to stab her, which was also nice. And, despite being drunk, his banter wasn’t too bad, which made it even better. Maybe the night would not be a total bore, after all.

Bishop’s grin turned to a smile, and a decently charming one at that. Taking yet another impulsive step towards the intriguing assassin, he replied, “Ah, and they likely will forget half the night - as will I - but who could forget such a beautiful face, or intriguing Lady? I doubt that this will be a half that I - or the others buzzing around this area - forget.”

daughterofsorria

Jezza laughed at his flirtation, eyes glancing over his shoulder to a group of pretty women who were scowling at the two of them. Victims of his honeyed words? “Aha, your flattery has touched me, stranger, and, judging by their faces, I do believe you are right. About the others remembering this moment, I mean.” Jezza threw her chin in the direction of the livid young ladies. “Your sisters?” she teased, knowing damn well they weren’t. “They seem concerned for some reason.”

#Jezza #daughtofsorria #neverwinter ball #((Bishop is a drunken fool but this is so amusing))

Bishop glanced back at the women he had previously been romancing for a moment, then turned back to Jezza and smiled. "Oh yes, the family resemblance tips everyone off. They're just concerned about their baby brother being entranced by such a dangerous and beautiful lady."

wanderingranger-defunct-blog

"Bishop?" she asked, a little surprised. "The Knight-Captain’s companion?" She smiled a little, the expression lessening the harshness of the scars along her jaw and cheek. "The Knight-Captain is the friend I was hoping to see. I knew them when they were… very young." There was a hint of sadness to her tone, as if the memories weren’t all good. "Are they here tonight?"

wanderingranger-defunct-blog

As soon as Aruya mentioned that she had known the knight captain since childhood, a lightbulb went off in Bishop’s head. If he could just get close enough to this girl, he might be able to get some sort of blackmail on the KC, and get him out of this family blackmail business. Best to start slow… He smiled slightly, charmingly, “Bishop, in the flesh. I take it you’ve heard of me - just good things, I hope?” He chuckled quietly. “Anyways, they are here tonight…. However I’m not entirely sure where. Perhaps I can help you look?”

His relatively abrupt change of attitude was more than a little suspicious. Aruya hadn’t, in fact, heard just good things about the other ranger. Actually, the good things were far outweighed by the bad.

But then again he had fought beside the Knight-Captain, and apparently remained loyal. Even saved their life a time or two, if the stories she’d heard could be believed. In Aruya’s book, that outweighed almost any ill tales she’d heard of the man. “Aye? I’d appreciate that, if you’re willing.” She glanced over at the woman that Bishop had been with before. She was pouting in their direction. Probably wondering why he’s wasting time on a scarred ranger and a wolf, she thought wryly. “That is, if you think your companion wouldn’t object,” she added with a nod in the woman’s direction.

#Aruya #Wanderingranger #neverwinter ball #((I'm sorry that bishop is such a shitty person ;_;))

Bishop looked over to the 'companion' in question, having completely forgotten about her. He looked back to Aruya and shrugged. "Oh she might, but reuniting two old friends seems like a better way to spend my time than chasing tail," He grinned at Aruya, "I'll be right back." bishop then turned, picked up the wine glasses he had procured, and walked to his previous interest. for a moment she looked pleased, and then she very much did not. She pouted at him, but in moments he walked back to Aruya nonetheless, and smiled. "Well, with that worked out, let's go find your friend, shall we? Nevalle would be a good starting place. I think I saw him around here a little bit ago, talking something about a death..." Bishop held out his hand to Aruya, so that she would not lose him in the crowd - or vice versa.

Closed starter for KajiandSafiya

Safiya blinked up at the man who’d banged into her. She was still trying to focus as he lifted her head and started talking. Nice voice, vaguely familiar. She had a feeling that she didn’t like the person attached to it, whoever it was, but she couldn’t seem to bring them into clarity. “Not ‘milady’,” she protested. Nobody got that right. ” ‘Mistress’.” That dealt with, she added, “Get off.”

'Mistress?', Bishop thought, 'But the only person I know of who prefers Mistress is…' Bishop’s eyes widened in horror. He looked down at the costume of the woman - Golden and elegant with just hints of red at the bottom of her dress, the exact kind of thing that Safiya would wear. The voice was definitely Safiya’s too, he realised. For a moment he was tempted to continue his advances, but he remembered Sand’s words earlier - no taking advantage of anyone or he’d essentially get chased so far away from the KC and their blackmail on him that he’d never be able to get close to them again. He weighed the pros and cons and, slightly reluctantly retreated, laying her head back down on the ground, and not saying a word.

Oh, good. He did get off. And as comfortable as the floor was, it was hardly a good idea to just stay lying there. Safiya sat up slowly, rubbing at the back of her head. It was pounding, but clearing; She looked at up the circle of tittering women and the man standing there, clearly the one who’d knocked her over. Unmasked.

"Bishop," she greeted him evenly. Szass Tam, she wasn’t at all sure how to handle the situation, but he had at least got off her when she’d asked him. Safiya got to her feet - a little unsteady, but she didn’t think she was going to fall - and started brushing herself off. "And entourage. Good evening."

"…Safiya," he replied. "I hope nothing I did seemed… Untoward." Bishop felt beyond silly with all the fancy language he had been using tonight to romance people, but it felt especially odd using it in the presence of one of his companions. Turning to his giggling groupies briefly, he requested, “Would you lovely ladies perhaps give the woman and I some space? I would like to check that she’s alright.” He turned back to Safiya when his group was no longer in earshot, his voice gruff and cold as usual again. “Are you injured?”

"Rather forward, certainly, and if you ever try a similar approach on me, you’ll find yourself regretting it immediately. Under the circumstances, however, I don’t think there’s any need for me to demonstrate. Accidents - and misunderstandings - do occur." Which was not to say that the incident fell under either category, although Bishop’s behaviour mostly supported it. The switch between his former coaxing tone and his current one was interesting, too; she made a mental note that he was at least moderately aware of what he was doing.

"Nothing to worry about," Safiya answered his question, which might or might not be accurate. She’d spotted Zhjaeve earlier, and she’d have a quiet word with the cleric when occasion allowed, but she would not show any weakness in front of the ranger. He was not the kind she’d encountered in the Academy, but she could recognise a predator when she saw one.