#a written reply ||ask||

[hautevaux]

i appreciate and love you and your muse SO much <3

ooc: I am so flattered ! This means more than I can say!

[dryadalismagicae]

Hey. Hey you. You're fUCKIN NEAT 💛💛💛💛💛

no YOU.

[boundwithindarkness-archive]

I think your problem is that you are too old to be creative any more. You don't out effort into developing any of your characters any more i mean when was the last time you posted a headcanon or anything? You're lacking now.

[boundwithindarkness-archive]

LYRI! I was hoping you'd like the post today! Your portrayal across all your blogs is amazing and your headcanons are always great. I always love seeing you on the dash! I know things are less than stellar for you irl but I really hope that improves soon. You deserve to be happy. Love you, Lyri! 💙

ooc: aaaaaaahhhh! Thank you! You are an absolute sweetpea and I adore you! <3 A blessing to my dash!

[dryadalismagicae]

'Knight Enchanters, Arcane Warriors... tell me about them.'

Lay, idly staring at the stars, Lyrian didn’t expect for conversation to suddenly be sprouted and most certainly not on a subject such as that. Thus his attention was piqued, turned toward the other so to acknowledge with a hum. 

“Knight Enchanters are specialist mages who can summon swords from thin air. Apparently, they can phase in and out of existence to dodge attacks - can’t say I have ever met one, however.” Brows softly furrow in thought; “Arcane warriors are the elvhen PREDECESSOR of Knight Enchanters - they were elite guardsmen, champions; extremely specialist mages, again.” 

A long pause; “Why...?”

[hautevaux]

Would you accept kisses?

“Depends from who and where.”

[hautevaux]

You look very pale. Are you alright?

“I’m alright - “ He uttered, sitting himself down so to drink his sweet tea.

[hautevaux]

He gets a phone call. He stops for a minute and listens and then goes to leave. // go this time. But I will be back for you.

He was ALIVE, and he had gotten away with not spilling a single secret - but at what cost? No doubt a broken rib or two resided within his chest - his wrist was un-doubtfully fractured and a few of his fingers, too; in the least he knew he could sew with only one hand on a machine but tinier details requiring hand sewing would have to be passed to a member of staff. Staggering to his feet does Vaux get himself out of the building as quickly as he could; heading down the road of which he did not recognise simply to get himself as far away from the place as he could - bleeding unto his clothes, all the while.