#darman1136

[generalgraceless]

@darman-1136 from here

Darman was used to sharing what he had with Etain. At times even his clothes. So, this? It didn’t bother him. Rather, it amused him that she even voiced that she was stealing it. Like he would have a problem with it.

Mischief gleamed in his brown eyes as he stepped closer to her. “Are you sure? Because there’s a hole right–” sticks a finger in a hole in said shirt that was sitting at her ribs. “–Here.”

Her hands were still occupied, busily weaving long waves of hair into an uncooperative plait, but she watched him in the mirror with slightly narrowed eyes as he stepped in closer. He was grinning, but it was that grin. The suspicious one.

 Etain happened to like this shirt, hole and all, even if it was long enough to be a short dress. She was about to tell him that there was a reason she had stolen it  in the first place when he decided to illustrate his point by poking at her ribs. Unable to deflect or push away with her hands, she squirmed away from the gentle jab, ever, unfortunately ticklish.

Of course, he knew it too.

“Dar.”  

[generalgraceless]

“I will always be there for you, no matter what. Believe me.”

Etain didn’t answer. It didn’t seem worth it to point out that it wasn’t a promise he could exactly make, any more than she could. Instead she slipped her arm around his waist, tucking her head against his chest and leaning gratefully against him.

There wasn’t any point in troubling him further. He had enough of his own to worry about just now, and it wasn’t as if she could exactly explain to him what had her in this mood. She shifted a little to more comfortably press against side, looking at the sun lowering on the horizon.

Everything still felt a little…. distant. Fuzzy. Just the lingering emotional aftermath, she guessed. And yet she drew the blanket in her lap up beside her until it covered him too, careful not to let on.

[generalgraceless]

❣

My muse has been in a fight (and not fared very well) - send ❣ for them to react to your muse offering to patch them up. (accepting)

Etain bristled at his light touch on her arm, still jittery and wide-pupiled with adrenaline. She ground her teeth, concentrating on the effort to untense the muscles in her neck and shoulders. It was harder than she might have guessed.

“I wasn’t wrong,” she insisted hoarsely, watching her own bloodied fingers shake with only mild interest. She knew well enough that when the adrenaline burned out of her system she was going to crash, and crash hard. But right now all of it- the pain, Darman’s look of disapproval- still felt distant and unreal. “This only proves that.”

Nevertheless, at Darman’s stern glance, she tilted her head upwards so he could examine the bruises on her throat, unable to stop from twitching her legs as she tried to hold herself otherwise still.

[generalgraceless]

@darman-1136 from here

She snorts at that, brushing a stray wisp of frazzled, greying hair from her eyes. Her black helmet is tucked beneath her arm, and she has an unwieldy rifle strapped to her back. But that doesn’t stop her from edging up onto her tip-toes to pull him downwards by his arm so that she can press her forehead against his.

“It’s been quite a while since then,” she points out.

Longer than she could have expected. Longer than she ever would have imagined they’d be caught in this cycle of bloodshed. But, also, she knows, longer than they were supposed to have together in the first place, before Mereel’s hard work had finally paid off. And in light of that, she can handle the unending war. Just so long as they’re together.

[wolffeleader-archive]

@darman-1136

"What brings a Republic Commando to this battlefield? I didn't call for backup." Wolffe said as he looked at the new arrival with a bit of apprehension, aiming his riffle at him. "Identify yourself."

[generalgraceless]

"I thought you were dead." // hurt me //

The words strangle themselves in her throat, dying short, brutal deaths before they are forgotten. Her lungs appear to have burst from her chest; she struggles to breath. When noise finally does escape her lips, it’s just that: noise. A thin, quiet wail that chokes immediately into a sob.

He’s changed, and not for the better. The civilian clothes hang awkwardly  loose from his frame. One look at the hardened planes of his face, and she can tell he hasn’t been sleeping either. 

But he’s still himself. He’s still Darman. Her husband. actually there, standing in front of her in the flesh after Force-forsaken months.

Words become a distant, unnecessary thought. She throws her arms around him, head against his chest, fists clenching in the back of his shirt, and weeps.

[generalgraceless]

"Everything will be okay."

Send “everything will be okay” to take care of my injured muse.

Etain took a ragged breath, eyes darting wildly around the room before finally settling on Darman’s face. She was shaking and everything hurt and…

“What happened?” she finally managed to ask, a note of panic to her voice despite his soothing words. “Dar? What happened? Where are we?” 

[controlledrage-blog1]

[ Compliment Sev Hour ] "I will first admit that I truly have no reservations with you interacting with my ad'ike. Just as I trust you with my life, I trust you with theirs. You're good people, ner vod."

"Yeah?"And there's just a hint of a smile."Don't keep gar ad'ike away for so long next time. Ba'vodu Sev misses them."