Avehi led the trio to a small cave. The term was a generous one; it was a hole in the cliff facing, hardly noticeable from the outside. Avehi only found it thanks to a subtle rune placed over the entrance. Not by her hand, but that of a friend. She peered inside, and once it was determined to be safe, only then did the Draenei lower her guard.
Argonas brought up the rear; his hulking mortal form only barely able to slip inside the cave-- and not without a bit of scraping. Still, he managed inside without drawing too much attention to himself or the cave overall. He loitered by the entrance, not keen on delving too deep in the cloistered space. Keeping watch was as good an excuse as any. He exhaled slow, even breaths to suppress his phobia. Few things gave him anxiety like rightly enclosed spaces. But he set that aside, out of necessity.
For Sinafay.
His eyes turned to her, still unconvinced she was really there. It seemed… impossible. But he knew it was her. He could feel it, even without being able to touch her. She looked magnificent, even as a weary, time-tortured soul. Her defiance burned, an undiminishing aura that was so uniquely hers. He'd missed it so much.
Avehi was less sentimental in the moment. Of course, she didn't know this Sinafay too well. The similarities with her counterpart were strong, though; she blamed herself less for mixing them up the first time she encountered her, looking for the one she knew from Draenor. On second look… it seemed the two were inescapably linked, even across their different timelines. Curious. She shook her head, and turned to Sylaess; the provider and defender of their makeshift hideout.
"Any sign of Raetos?" Avehi asked her hooded elven friend, slinging her hammer over her shoulder once the cave opened up wide enough to allow it. "I don't know how much time we can spend looking for him."
A small shake of her head was all that was offered. The shaded hood didn’t offer much for expression, but it wasn’t really necessary in the Maw. She shifted, rummaging about the small quarry of supplies she’d netted. Two small packages bound in ebon cloth, to be fair. Food. Waterskins. Bandages. Inane things, but not to be expected of the Acherians.
She knew Argo would need these things. Hoped Raetos was good enough to find himself some forage--though it had a cost. Syl tugged the hemp straps tighter, securing them. A nasty Maw-sworn spear rested on the wall beside the entrance. Another thing she’d stolen.
She didn’t dare steal more than a few glances at Sinafay. She was glad they’d found her, but the sight of her left Syl more confused than she wanted to wade through at the moment. She knew her, but did she really? She couldn’t exactly recall anything determinate about her, other than that she was Argonas’ mate and that she had caused the unlikely friendship between her and Argo. But there was more!
She smoothed her hands on her greaves a moment and stood up, shaking her head again. “I can guarantee this place for but a few hours. They move fast on very little intel. Resources are not a concern of theirs.” Picked up the spear and stood quietly at the edge of the cave, watching outward.
“I see groups moving up the pathways, but none returning yet. That may be our best bet. Won’t be easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is easy.”
Argonas moved just a bit further inside as Sylaess joined him at the cave’s entrance. He pressed his back to the wall, and exhaled a weary sigh. The Maw was taxing; he expected as much. But he had thought it would be taxing on his soul alone, not his body. And yet moving in this place felt like a chore. His body was an encumbrance, unfit for such a place. The Death Knights and Sinafay had no such burdens upon them; the former eternally strong and used to the feeling of willing their corporeal forms around. And Sinafay clearly didn’t have one to slow her down. Despite his physique, he felt fatigue deeply in this wretched place.
His soul was lifted, at least, as he looked to Sinafay. Getting this far was such a boon! Inspiring! He knew he would find a way to save her from this place. With her free from the Tremaculum, their journey was halfway done! He smiled at her, finding the fortitude to see this through.
Sinafay, for her part, seemed oblivious to everything around her. Everything but Argonas, anyway. Her tail swayed, eyes never leaving him. She didn’t know how many years she’d been in the Maw for, or even what it corresponded to on Azeroth. Argonas certainly looked older… or perhaps it was the beard? She noted some new scars on his features, and the longer hair! Her hand reached forward, but the ghostly limb simply moved through him.
She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to have her body back right now. Despite her disappointment in now being able to touch him, she returned his smile. That sight alone was enough to wash away the weariness of her soul.
“We shouldn’t stay long, regardless. We need to find Sinafay a vessel of some kind, otherwise we won’t be able to pull her from this place.” Avehi replied to Sylaess, tail swaying in unease. “First, however, we’ll follow the group up the pathways you mentioned. Hopefully, it’ll lead to a way out of this place. In searching for both… maybe we’ll get lucky and find Raetos, too.”
This place was grating. It was the longest Avehi had spent beyond the veil, and it wore on her. The whispers were far too reminiscent of the Lich King’s reign. Worse, somehow. She hated it.
“What do you think, Sylaess?”
“Yeah.” She side-eyed Argonas a moment. Offered him one of the neatly wrapped packages. She could be empathetic to his situation. It mustn't be fun. Wrapping her gauntlet around the spear, she slipped out into the bleak air. Quiet, despite wearing so much armor, and rather light on her feet. Seems she had recovered enough dignity to look professional.
A single glance back was all she gave before she struck out. Scouting ahead.
It wasn’t until the hooded figure came near and handed Argonas a package. Sina tilted her head, taking a closer look at the figure.
“Syl?”
She glanced back, but hurried herself out. Nope. At risk of looking like she had just legitimately run away from a ghost, she tugged her hood and stepped it out. Aimed to melt into the motley grey and bleak of the landscape.
Not much use--anyone living stood out here. At least, in her own perspective. The dead carried a very certain...
What was it, exactly? Aura? No. It was something else. She just bloody knew.
The eyes on her back raising the fine hairs at her nape was really making her begin to grind her teeth.
“The Jailer will have--!”
She didn’t hear the rest of it. Took a mace to the head. Her stolen spear went skittering across the stones as if borne by a flood of spiders. Watched it skitter from her descending view.
Well, fuck.
The runes along her armor exploded into that terrible light. Pale blue, like her eyes had once been. Blaringly bright in this place. A massive spike of ice shot up under the scout--was it a scout? Who cares.--and through it’s oddly fleshy body. Syl stood up, roughly brushing herself off with a grunt.
Scooped her spear.
“I think we need to go now.”
The mild displeasure in her voice was clear as the sun. Vicious self mocking at its best. These ... people? Whatever. Assholes, more like, came from thin air it seemed. Sometimes.
Sinafay couldn’t help but smile to herself. Yes, this was most definitely Sylaess. She’d fought along side the Kal’dorei long enough to recognize her movements in a fight.
It was a bad sign that they’d been found already, though Sinafay wasn’t all that surprised. She stood up and walked over to the mouth of the cave to stand next to Argonas. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his… and of course passed right through.
“She is right. We are out of time. Where is our escape located?”
VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗💗
"Mm, Raetos is a handsome Draenei, indeed. A perfect mixture of rugged and youthful. If only he weren’t a gaudy Lightforged...”
FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗💗💗
"Hmph, when we met, he did not put his best hoof forward. Not at all! But he’s grown a lot since then. Now, I feel we are of one accord. Close friends, able to rely on one another.”
SEXUAL DESIRE: 💗💗💗
“--Aah, well... I believe that door has been closed. If not, however? I would greatly pair with him again. He has a lot to learn, but the inexperience is endearing in its own way. He certainly shows an eagerness to please, too!”
ROMANTIC INTENT: 💔
“... I’ll just say that I’m glad he found someone. Someone else.”
Every single Knight of Acherus could hear that call, knew that call. It wasn’t one you fucked around with.
They stood in ranks, watching the portal open. Waiting. Somehow, they were going to help. The icy winds atop Icecrown snatched at cloaks and fur-trimmed armor alike. Stole the wispy breath of the living and tossed it to the glacier beyond. A very solemn time.
A very anxious time.
They filed through. Rank by rank.
It took forever, in Sylaess’s humble opinion. All for a bloody portal. To the deadlands. Shadowlands. Syl hated portals. They always fucked her up. She cut a glance to see if she could spot Avehi one more time. Had tried to get into formation with her, but who knew if they were still near each other? There had been so much shuffling about.
The rank before her moved up. Started popping through, one by one. So the rumors were true, then. Bolvar had had his ass handed to him by Sylvannas. And then she messed everything up. Again. Sylaess was careful to keep herself still, steady, and cool. At least outwardly. It was tiresome. But she did an excellent job of that mask.
Sigh.
Syl stepped forward unthinkingly. Just muscle memory in the line, headed into the portal. The less she thought of the insanity she was about to partake in, the easier it got.
That was a bold-faced lie, but she was grasping every thin thread to keep herself from launching off the side of Icecrown instead of into the afterlife. Both options sucked, to be fair.
Took a breath, hands on her swords hilts like they were a lifeline. Stepped through the blue-black mass of magic that would lead her to the exact place she’d been avoiding all these damned years. Literally.
Tried not to scream.
The Maw was unchanged from when Avehi was here last-- but it was still an entirely new experience. Before, merely a fragment of her consciousness could wander freely through the desolate wastes beyond the veil. Now, she was here wholly, fully… with no guarantee of any way out again. Her body never felt more cumbersome, reminiscent of when she was first risen. That bitter, ashen taste. The way the air felt so thin and yet stifling at the same time. The amber skyline was piercing, a burning contrast to the somber grey dust beneath her hooves. Immediately, the wailings of the damned assaulted her ears, in a symphony of suffering. This was no place for a mortal.
Thankfully, she wasn’t one.
Foolishly, however, she’d brought two along with her. She looked back to her companions; imposters, both adorned in Ebon Blade recruit armor. Argonas’ barely fit over his muscular physique. An oversight on her part-- she should’ve procured a Tauren-sized set for him, just in case. Raetos’, however, fit just fine. Though his brighter skin tone betrayed his Light-suffused body beneath the dark Ebon plating. Both of them would’ve been easy enough to pick out… if anyone were looking hard enough. Too focused on Bolvar, Avehi presumed. She wasn’t sure about the Highlord. Helm or no helm, it was hard for her to reconcile how she felt about the presence that had set up shop in the back of her mind since the fall of Arthas Menethil. Familiarity, yes. But overwhelming distrust trumped it. Like an estranged brother.
She put it from her mind, for now, attention back on Argonas and Raetos.
“Muster your senses.” she instructed. “We must move-- quickly!”
Argonas did just that; he was much more prepared for the terror this place instilled in the depths of the soul than Raetos was. Having died somewhat recently, he was already accustomed to this place, and the heavy draw that permeated the air. He expected it. Prepared for it. Shrugged it off, and moved to follow Avehi into the wastes. Somewhere here, they’d find Sinafay. And he’d make good on his promise to free her from this terrible place! That alone was all the drive he needed to suffer through.
Raetos wasn’t as fortunate. Despite all the time he’d spent on the Fel-suffused planet of Argus, it did nothing to protect him from the wave of absolute dread and hopelessness that permeated his senses.
“--Light,” he muttered under his breath, kneeling down and throwing his helmet off to bring his hands to his head.
Thankfully, his Lightforged body offered him some protection. He couldn’t imagine how much more horrible this place would be without it’s soothing properties. It took him a moment, as he waited for his senses to acclimate. When he looked up, Avehi and the others were already far ahead. He removed some of the extra pieces of plate armor Avehi had told him to wear. The atmosphere was already too heavy, and the weight of the gear was unbearable. At this point, it didn’t matter if the Ebon Blade realized they’d brought a mortal through.
Not like they could force him to go back...
Gritting his teeth, he got back on his hooves and followed after his companions. He was one step closer to finding Fable.
Sylaess’ skin felt prickly. Like someone had chopped the sides of her neck with the blade of their hand and jolted all her nerves at once. A cold sweat made her armor lining cling uncomfortably.
She wanted to vomit.
Two steps onto the other side, and she held it all back. Held her breath, too. Did a half-turn to check for an ambush and--
Came loose from herself. Drifted away from her own body.
Ah, shit. The thought was haphazard at best. A remote acceptance. The world went away.
Sylaess stiffened up like she’d been struck on the head and went over like an ominous pillar of saronite. No hand came out to break that fall. Crashed to the ground unceremoniously with a dull thud. Absolutely unresponsive for a solid moment, other than a faint tremor in her hands. Unnatural.
“I waited, nonetheless.”
He took another bite, and chewed that one too for a while. Thoughtfully. The only times Argonas was really so quiet was when he was eating or sleeping. His mouth stopped running long enough for his thoughts to get a turn. Most of his thoughts were on Sylaess, and his gaze followed them. He swallowed.
“Was it worth it?” he asked, motioning roughly over his own face where Sylaess’ exacerbated scarring was. “It looks as if you took a few hits. Did you learn anything of the truths you are seeking?”
She blinked at her hands, considering the question for a hanging moment. “...I don’t know if I feel qualified to name worth about this, but I learned enough that I...” Want to take a scalding damn bath, my friend, badly. “...want to leave. I have enough control, I feel.” No, you don’t.--
The taste of rust and dirt in her mouth. Black, watery rushing in her ears. A flicker of lights. Pushed away from the fragmented memory. Didn’t recognize much of it, anyway. Didn’t make too much sense.
And awake again.
She gave a hell of a start. Limbs felt loose, uncoordinated. Standing up felt a little clumsy. Shit, how many times was that? Sylaess tensed, willing herself to look like iron again. Hoped beyond whatever frail hope she had that most of her companions looked past that little... episode. Destarion had made sound mention of her new ailment. She had an idea of what happened, but never a full understanding. Her skull felt like it throbbed, and yet was airy all at once. It was incredibly hard to refocus.
The fragment of memory, or fictitious image was fleeing her mind already. Little snippets. Some were true, but she couldn’t tell what was real. It was harrowing to try and winnow it all out.
Truthfully, she felt like her bones were made of windchimes. Hollow.
Avehi eyed the elf, a mixture of worry and annoyance upon her countenance. The poor thing shook and wobbled like a newborn talbuk finding its legs in this treacherous place. The Draenei couldn’t fault her too terribly for it, though-- everything about this place was an affront to the senses. She was, in truth, surprised Argonas seemed to take it in such stride. But then… he’d been here before, rather recently. She examined the trio, and grunted. This was it. This was the team. With no plan to get back out, and no telling what to expect inside… they proceeded.
“Stay close.” came her only instruction; her only warning.
The Vindicators trudged forward, driven by their respective purposes. Avehi had finally made it to the other side, and took strides now in correcting this problem that had haunted her for so long. Argonas’ purpose was far more specific. Yet both moved, in a show of their shared training, keeping a close-yet-loose and wary formation. Hammers drawn and ready for the horrors the Maw would surely throw their way.
Raetos stayed further behind, both to watch their backs, and also to keep an eye on Sylaess. She was the only one in the group he didn’t know at all. She was such a tall and skinny thing, so lanky and sickly looking. And from the looks of it, she’d taken the entrance into the Maw harder than he had. He wondered how long she'd been dead, but then Avehi had made it clear that it wasn’t a question to ask a Death Knight. A sensitive subject.
Now wasn’t the time to make friends and start conversations anyway. Quite the departure from his regular self. Instead, his golden gaze scanned the rocky cliffs. Oddly enough, it wasn’t too far off from the rocky and desolate landscape that Argus had been… except Fel was replaced by… well… death and mist of some kind. So he had no issues blending and moving quietly about the area. Thankfully so, because the mist made it hard to see at a distance, and there were constant eerie screams in the background that made things difficult for his ears to pick up other sounds --not to mention the sounds of battle! It would make hunting the enemy harder for him.
He wondered if Avehi knew where she was going. She seemed to anyway… So he followed. For now.
The worst of it faded slowly. Not that the ominous air of the Maw itself was helpful in any sort of recovery.
To be fair, she’d been here before. A few times.
They had to find Sinafay as fast as they could. Every second in this place was a threat to the very fabric of a soul.
She should not be here. So many should not be here. That would have to be solved later. It was a much grander scale issue.
Sylaess shook her head slightly, chasing off the thoughts before they took hold. Glanced over the rest of the party and resolved to ignore her indiscretion. Such as it would be. A brief flicker of concern for Argonas, but she let it slide. Had to. No room for that here. She wasn’t particularly concerned with Raetos, disguise or no.
There was a feeling that the Jailer would be able to sense them regardless of any shade or misdirection and that bothered her. Bothered her a lot. She slid a hand into her cloak, a hidden pouch there. Reassurance. The tiny vials were wrapped securely in cloth and leather layers, protecting them from a lot of damage. They seemed intact.
“Avehi, do we have a specific direction, or should we try to command a soul to give us an idea?”
Her voice was quiet and gravelly, but clear enough. Such an odd thing to hear out of her own face. She sighed softly through her nose. At least she’d spent the last few weeks with the ritualists in Acherus, learning what she could of the other side of being a death knight. Less battle, more magic fuckery.
"Once we have our bearings, that's a good idea." Avehi replied without breaking stride. "Let's get up this ridge, and see what we can see."
"--Command a soul?" Argonas repeated, clearly uncomfortable with the notion. "Have they not suffered enough without such compulsions?"
"Probably. You can ask your wife the specifics after we compel a wayward soul to lead us to her." came Avehi's curt response.
It silenced Argonas well enough.
“Geez… I mean, it doesn't hurt to ask nicely at first,” Raetos couldn’t help but throw his opinion in, “If they’re being a pain in the ass, then by all means, but Argo’s right. No need to hassle an already suffering spirit if it’s not putting up a fight.”
He held his rifle ready, keeping his senses sharp despite his mouth working.
“Like… from the looks of things, there are some obviously bad things picking on helpless looking spirits,” he mentioned, taking a peek over the ledge where he spotted the commotion, “We intervene, the nice spirit tells us what they know out of gratitude, and then we can compel the baddies for extra information. Win win. Oooh! Leave that hound-thinger down there alive, though. I want that.”
“Was it worth it?”
The memory echo gave her half a pause, but it slid away like oil on water. She sighed softly, the tightness in her jaw not settling.
Maybe it was the half-echoed whispers from the souls damned to this place. She could hear them. Assumed Avehi could, too.
“More than half of these souls are ... remnants. Shattered pieces. The Maw is where they are sent to be slowly obliterated. Now that all souls are sent here, it's ... the worst fate you could wish on anyone. No hope for rebirth here, just swift annihilation if you’re lucky.” Sylaess said. Gave pause, side-eyeing Raetos. “They’re constructs, but ones that feast on souls. Fine sport, I’m sure.”
She had meant to be calming, reassuring even. But her words raked like gravel, gashing out the hideous truth of this place. The end was colored by sarcasm. No mercies indeed. There was regret, but she couldn’t pluck the words from the air. Nor did she feel she could’ve found better to say. The elf tugged her cloak over her shoulder, black hollow eyes scanning the area in a slow sweep. Old habits were never far.
At least, she assumed it was a habit.
She eyed the hound. Then it came together.
“But we could harness it to travel faster. At least, one of us.”
This place was grating on Avehi’s nerves. The sounds most of all. Words no mortal could hear, but registered as whispers to the Death Knights, one foot in and one foot out of their graves. Half-truths and intrusive thoughts given soundless voices, all speaking directly to her mind.
“You belong here, too.”
“None escape…”
“The Jailer sees all!”
It was distracting. Overwhelming. And Argonas’ and Raetos’ sanctimonious protesting only irked her further.
“Feel free to see how far asking nicely gets you.” Avehi chuffed, growing in irritation. “But if you want your respective loved ones saved from this infamously-inescapable place? Cast aside your Light-bleached sensibilities and be prepared to do whatever it takes. Let the undead handle the undead, if you can’t stomach it.”
The ridge crest overlooked everything… and nothing. There wasn’t much to see of this desolation. A ‘river’ of aetherial miasma cut through the land some distance ahead. And following it to their left revealed ramparts of some manner of fortification. Beyond that, ever-looming in the sky, was an infinitely tall tower. Unsettlingly menacing, it dominated the skyline, casting its shadow over the already dismal landscape.
“--There.” Argonas spoke up, motioning to the fortifications. “I… I saw Sinafay near there, when I died. I remember the wall.”
“You’re certain?” Avehi asked, turning to him.
He nodded once, eyes affixed to the distant keep. It was recent enough, still fresh in his mind. Avehi grunted, but nodded in response.
“Then we make our way there. Any soul we manage to find on the way, we question.”
She waved her hand dismissively at the construct and his ‘dog’ down below.
“Leave those sentries be, if we can. The creature will serve us no purpose, anyway.” she directed. “Splitting up here is the worst thing we could possibly do.”
And yet, that was exactly what Raetos decided to do. As the others turned away and continued their journey, the Lightforged kept his eye on the hound and its rider. He always worked better alone anyway. And it would be easier to sneak around without the heavy plate wearers. Brows knit into a frown as he looked over to his friends once more, only to see them already a good distance away; pushed forward by Argonas recognizing a rock formation.
Fable wouldn’t be with Sinafay. It was a gut feeling the Draenei had. Their times of death had happened so far apart and differently. The chances of finding them together in this hell hole was slim to none. His three companions obviously cared more about finding Argonas’ mate than his. Avehi had promised to bring Raetos into the Maw. That done, it was time for him to walk his own path. His partner needed him, and he wasn’t going to waste any time following the wrong trail.
Silently, he stepped away from the group and hid into the cliff. And just like that, he was gone, silently moving down the cliff to stalk the hound and rider, hunting rifle in hand.
“Perdition...”
It was more of a mumble to herself, thinking over the location. She frowned, watching Raetos go--but who was she to stop him? If you want to disappear into hell, literally, by yourself, then that’s on you.
She honestly wished him well.
The wash of voices became loud in her ears for a moment. She grit her teeth.
“If we’re headed that way, we should get going. “
A pause, and she stared at Avehi. Tried to gauge how much she knew of this place, gave up. “He’s watching.” Softly. “There’s not much I can do about it.” Stepped up to be vaguely beside the other Knight a moment. “The best thing is that he’s busy with the sudden swarm of Acherians. He can’t focus.”
The Draenei’s tail flickered in irritation, as Sylaess put so well into words what she was feeling. The master of this domain exuded a too-familiar omniscience in this place. The power behind the Helm of Dominion worn by the Lich King could be felt here. Its origins, perhaps? It felt far too similar to be coincidence.
“There’s nothing any of us can do about it.” she affirmed, bluntly. “May his focus be elsewhere as we get done what we’re here to do. Everyone stay cl--”
She narrowed her eyes in search; the brightest of their group was nowhere to be found! For his otherwise inept and naive countenance, Raetos was particularly adept at forging his own path and vanishing when he felt it was time. His impatience and disobedience would be his doom here, Avehi thought, as she shook her head.
“We need an escape. A rally point. Somewhere to fall back to and regroup as necessary.” she grunted, eyes flickering to Sylaess. “Can you secure one? Argonas and I will go ahead into the keep, and see if we can’t find Sinafay.”
Sylaess nodded. “I’ll hold to one spot as well as I can, but I feel I might need to move. May this be a quick endeavor.”
📂 - Maybe one for each character? Or whichever muse strikes your fancy right now! :D
I heard “one for each”, and I will oblige!
Argonas never trusted Orcs. Not even at the beginning. He only speaks orcish for this reason - he’s a paranoid individual! He started studying it on Draenor, fearful that the Orcs would turn on his people during swap meets and such he’d attend. He though he’d never EVER admit it aloud, he secretly feels somewhat... vindicated... that he was right all along!
Avehi can sleep, but since she doesn’t need to, she chooses not to. Not only is she plagued with nightmares if she tries, but she’s so used to not knowing - or caring - what time of day it is thanks to her spending most of her life on Draenor in Shadowmoon Valley. She loves the night sky anyway, so not needing to sleep is an absolute win for her!
Bey’ron does have a soft side, contrary to popular belief! But it’s really hard to prove it! Case in point, he anonymously sponsors both a homeless shelter and an orphanage in Eversong. Both were set up separately following the destruction of the Sunwell, and provide food, beds, and safety for anyone who needs it. No tangible connection exists between him and these two establishments, of course. But he feels it’s imperative for elves in need to have some manner of jumping-off-point to get back up when life knocks them down.
Brent window-shops for blades very often. He loves examining unique and artistic bladecraft, and can sometimes - rarely - be seen at bazaars or swap meets examining various knives and swords. That being said, he’s never bought one. Where he got the blades he uses now is a mystery for another prompt... :P
Dahlyah was eaten by a dragon once! Well, not really, but she likes to tell people that! The truth is she was on a hunt once for black drakes back during the Blackrock conflict, and one swooped down and chomped down on her! Her dark iron chainmail kept the dragon’s razor-sharp teeth from cutting through all the way, but she still has the bite marks on her abdomen and torso from the incident! She managed to fire off a few shrapnel rounds down its neck to shred its innards and escape certain death. And the ensemble she wears now is made with scales from that very drake!
Gattius is a sucker for Eversong Scout cookies! He can’t pass up an opportunity to buy a box or two every time they’re out selling them! He has such a hard time saying no to those sweet, smiling faces! It’s only gotten worse since becoming a father, too! Right now, he has one entire supply closet in his office full of unopened boxes of cookies he’s bought over the past few months! It’s labeled “Needles and Syringes” to keep Syrielle from looking inside and finding them! Don’t tell her!
Grakkar pees sitting/squatting down. Don’t judge.
Tyrellius found the hardest thing about becoming a Demon Hunter to be the horns! He’s adapted well enough to “seeing” differently. And he’s even comfortable with his body changing and shifting during various metamorphoses. But those pesky horns... he’ll forget he has them more often than not when reaching up to scratch his head or adjust his mask. They seem to surprise him every time he brushes a hand against them... or brushes THEM against something else! Still, he can’t bring himself to file them down or try and reshape them. When he remembers they’re there, he definitely likes them!
Thanks for the prompt, @nocturnedreaming! ^^ @syrielle for mention!
FFAF: For Avehi and Bey'ron - if they could send a message to their past selves, what would it be? (and the obvious 'don't die' for Avehi doesn't count!)
Avehi would urge her past self to be open minded. To look past the warm, comfortable veil the Light wraps around her and her people, and accept that there is much more beyond her sphere of knowledge and belief. It’d be hard for her past self to hear, but she’d tell her the Light is not the one true path. And that believing it to be so can cause much more harm than good...
Bey’ron would use this message for something more practical. Warning his past self of impending dangers, such as the Scourge Invasion, or the Purge of Dalaran. He’d probably advise himself not to place too much faith in Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider. But above anything else, he’d most assuredly warn himself to avoid certain relationships that have only brought him pain. “Harden your heart”, he’d tell himself. And he knew it back then of course. But somewhere between now and then, he foolishly lowered his guard, and only has a deep cut left to show for it.
Barbarian: What causes your character to become enraged more so than anything else? For Argonas and Avehi.
Argonas becomes enraged at the sight of injustices - especially those against his people. He’s been a Vindicator for a while now, and bore witness to all manner of terrible acts the Orcs wrought upon the Draenei - both in the alternate timeline, and through his own. He’d do anything to ensure such atrocities never befall his people again. And noble as his intentions may be... he’s often blind to his own rage and excessive violence when it comes to bringing about the Light’s justice.
Nothing upsets Avehi more than intolerance. Treating others different because of who or what they are is abhorrent to her, now. In life, she often thought that way, but undeath has completely reversed her perspective on how those not “blessed by the Light” are treated. Intolerance for the undead is clearly personal to her, but she also gets worked up for other prejudgments, such as those against ren’dorei, and Demon Hunters--though the latter often make it difficult for her to want to help them...
Argonas - Face to Face or from behind? Avehi - Face Fucking or Anal Sex? Alteris - Public Edging or Filming in the Bedroom?
Argonas: “Hm... I feel there is more control from behind. Depth, angle, I can perform better in that position, and more easily play with my partner’s tail.”
Avehi: “Anal, absolutely. I have yet to have a partner who can face-fuck me properly, without grabbing my horns like some manner of handlebars and--” *she clears her throat* “... In any case, I prefer anal.”
Alteris: “Bedroom, f’sure. Last thing I need is t’get caught, literally, with m’ pants down, aye?”
