#burtai

[elkenbulwark]

There was a brief moment where he didn't know what Ren would do-...perhaps he had been having many of those moments as of late. Their connection...however strained was beginning to succumb to the fraying. Much as he tried to keep a frantic grip on the splitting that singed his hand. Painted the white stain of his pigments a bloody red. He saw the tadpole offered to his brother and felt little concern compared to anything Vesz gave him. He wasn't sure why... perhaps the tadpoles he'd consumed had calmed him into thinking it was a perfectly acceptable gift-

[This will make you stronger... this will help.] The sentiment wasn't spoken, but he felt it in his head from the mind flayer before them. He believed it. Believed it like he wanted to believe that his services still mattered to the Cragdew-... still had the capability of keeping him safe. Even though deep down he knew that for all the recent battles they'd been thrown into, he had done the least damage. He had been the most work for the rest of them to watch over. He'd encumbered them. Like the tadpoles weighing them all down now. He felt...heavy.

When Ren flung the offered tadpole away into the craggy recesses of the astronaut they all stood upon in the Astral plain, he felt a knife sink into his chest. Something trying its best to protect what it had burrowed into-... screaming out like he did in his rages, and thrashing when held down with nothing but a word. He waited until the rest of the party had begun to trot off without him- ... yet again. His eyes firmly squeezed shut could not detangle the worm's screeches for help below his feet.

He stooped...collected it in his glove. And in his open palm where it thrashed he saw- the last remnants of Ren's smile when he'd last earned it as a child. He wanted it so badly-...to the point where, with a tilt of his hand, he popped the tadpole inside his mouth and swallowed heavily, eyes burning with a prick of something warm and wet. If he'd been a better brother-...a better friend, then maybe it wouldn't have come to this.

[ehrendiila]

hmmm, are you afraid of your brother?

Are you afraid of your brother?

The instant answer is a sharp, biting "No." The truth, however, couldn't be further. The truth is more complex. The truth is changing. Subconsciously, his hand goes to his temple and rubs a small circle where the black and purple hues of bruising had covered, his mind goes to his back, which still hurts some, and then to his heart and finally his own mind.

He's cracking under the additional pressure this shitstorm has brought upon them. Doesn't know what it's going to take to make Birvor realise.

To say he isn't scared of the half-orc is a bare-faced lie, he is, but it's not Birvor himself he's scared of. It's of what Birvor is capable of. What he will do to him. What he will do to Veszdrin. What he's done already. How he's changing. His hand falls, gloved fingers curling in the fabric above his heart. Gods. He hates it. He's terrified of the rages - always has been - but now they seem more dangerous and unpredictable and there's more than just him. He's scared for when even Kim can't get through to him.

His mind flits back to the night at the lake. Maybe he should just let go. Let himself be controlled. Maybe he should let Vesz go. At least he'd be alive-- Maybe he should give up. Something inside him twists at the thought. He thinks of Veszdrin--and there's tears welling before he can stop them. they're promptly wiped away with the back of his hand. It'd be better for the camp. For everyone around him, really. Just not for him, but when had that mattered?

" I'm not afraid of him. "

[elkenbulwark]

// Vesz losing sight of the perceived trap: Uh-...I thought there was a trap here? Biv and Ren racing into the next room causes BIG BOOMA- Kima: What was that???? Biv: ... found the trap.

[ehrendiila]

Thyme

Anxiety is your middle name. You need to check in with other people or beliefs when you take a step because the world is dark and you are so small, so fragile, and you've been hurt so many times before. You were bullied or hurt before, by people you trusted or people you loved, and despite all that you find yourself stumbling into other people, into bandaged trust because all you want is to be secure, loved, safe, supported. But maybe instead you long to be loved, long to find solace in the arms of someone else but can't bare to draw near enough to anyone long enough to feel safe and ache, ache, ache for company. The world is dark and you're so lonely it hurts sharper than any wound. How can you trust when it's all be shattered so many times before? How do you trust yourself when you've let so many in? You are a thousand contradictions, a thousand bits and pieces picked up along the way and maybe even this doesn't sound right, maybe nothing sounds right. You are so lonely and so afraid and you just want to be safe. Secure. Loved. You're so tired of being afraid.

[ehrendiila]

For all of my days, I choose you.

[ehrendiila]

❛ this is the choice — this is the point of no return. ❜ - veszdrin

It's hardly a choice. Ren thinks so, at least. He's got his arms curled around the other's shoulders and has found himself comfortably perched in Vesz's lap after being pulled there. As he lingers, forehead pressed against Vesz's and noses brushing, Ren pretends to think about his options. To do this now-- or to live without knowing. To continue this dance they've had for the past months of 'will they, won't they'.

It's only now that Birvor has calmed down somewhat that Ren is confident enough to damn the consequences and choose what he wants. " I know, and I decided long before you said that. " Long before they'd settled in for the night. Ehrendil had realised his feelings for Vesz a long while ago, and this moment-- he hopes to the gods will be worth all they've been through.

He feels a flutter of nerves run through his belly, but shoves them aside as he finally, for the first time, kisses the rogue. It's a strange sensation to him - good, but strange - and he's praying his inexperience doesn't spoil this for the other. When he parts, he offers a small, easy smile.

"....I choose you, Veszdrin. "

// @burtai

[ziniuonis]

Vienas turtuolis paprašė išminčiaus parašyti ką nors, kad jo šeimos klestėjimas tęstųsi iš kartos į kartą. Išminčius paėmė didelį popieriaus lapą ir parašė: Mirė tėvas, mirė sūnus, mirė anūkas. Plačiau ziniuonis.lt

[ziniuonis]

Lazdų riteris

Vykdamas kitur gyventi, bėgdamas nuo praeities įvykių - PAGALVOK! Ar tikrai ten geriau, ar tu ne krokodilas kuris tempiasi ant ruplėtos uodegos visą nenusisekusią praeitį.