#deathswing

[unhirsch-a]

❛  what do you live for? what do you try for?  ❜ // to davrin!

EPIC THE MUSICAL   [ACCEPTING]     FEAT.     @deathswing

          IT SHOULD BE AN EASY QUESTION TO ANSWER,        should it not be?   but what does he live for,   what is it that allows him to wake up in the morning,   that takes his hand  &  leads his blade?   as a warden,   he should know the answer:     fighting for the sake of humanity,   driving away darkspawn,   dying for the good cause.   as a dalish,   his response should be ever so different:     live to be in harmony with nature,   nurture those around you,   take care of those you love.   neither of those feel correct,   both have their claws expectantly digging into the soft flesh of his throat,   trying go drag out an answer that tastes like glass on his tongue.     "assan,"     is the answer that eventually offers itself  &  even then,   davrin's forehead crinkles in a light frown.   though not incorrect————     is that truly all there is for him?   does life have nothing else in store?   he has sworn to raise assan to become the defender they all need   .  .  .   &  after that?   pray the calling comes sooner rather than later?     "for now,   that is enough.   all else   .  .  .   i will figure out when we get there."     it's a dissatisfying reply that tastes foul,   too.   not as violent as the ideas placed on his tongue by those he followed before   .  .  .   but a preconceived notion more than something truly davrin either way.     "you have made me talk,   that makes it your turn next:     what do you live for?"

[diirthera]

𝐀𝐒   𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊   𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊   𝐀   𝐒𝐈𝐏   𝐎𝐅   𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄,   they   take   a   glance   at   the   grocery   list   that   seemed   to   have   grown   over   the   past   week.   𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚   𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕   𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌…   how   long   has   it   been   since   they   went   out   to   gather   things   for   food   ?   now   that   they   think   about   it,   taash   had   made   a   comment   about   being   𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔   𝒂𝒏𝒅   𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔   to   nibble   on.   expression   twists   as   rook   turns   towards   their   approaching   company.

❝   𝐈   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊   𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄   𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐔𝐄   for   a   grocery   run.   ❞   they   comment,   hold   up   the   list.   ❝   we've   been   too   busy   running   around,   i   wasn't   even   aware   we're   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐋𝐎𝐖   on   supplies.   ❞   a   long   sigh   leaves   their   lips   as   they   speak   to   @deathswing,   shoulders   dropping   in   slight   𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕   in   themself.   they   were   really   looking   forward   to   a   day   off,   but   –   people   have   to   eat.   couldn't   put   it   off   anymore.

[corvusregards]

@deathswing asked

❝ I don't really have the time or space to get into what that says about morality here. ❞ // to esha!

"We're Crows, Lucanis." Esha said with a small bit of a smirk on his lips as he helped with the clean up after dinner. Another great meal cooked by none other than the grandson of the First Talon; Esha hardly could believe that this was his reality now.

Yet here he was, stacking dishes and gathering together silverware beside probably the greatest assassin he had ever known. Esha had joined the ranks of the Crows much older than was typical, and even if he'd been training himself in the arts of stealth, poisons, and blades before joining, he knew he had a long way to go to ever be able to measure up to Lucanis' caliber.

"I think we're hardly the pair to be talking about what's moral and what isn't. Especially when we're tasked with taking down gods..." Esha said with a sigh and paused, gathering up the silverware he had grabbed to plop into a mug atop the plates he'd already stacked.

"I am sorry. It feels like all I talk about lately is this damned contract against the gods." Of course, the contract was important, it should be taking up most of his thoughts and attention, but what he wouldn't give for feeling normal for a little while.

"Why don't we play a game of Wicked Grace? Could be a nice break from all the seriousness."

[theodosiani]

there's only so much left we can endure. // to cosima!

Epic: Circe Saga || accepting || @deathswing

It’s a deep breath that keeps her from snapping, a slight twitch of her nose as she forces her worst tell still, the slow blink of both eyes nearly disbelieving at this appeal to her. Cosima is surprised at times, these appeals that others make to her, these expectations that they seem to have of her. As if she is not merely a weapon carved from flesh and bone, as if the crows did not kill the bits inside her that could have let her care.

It makes sense when it is Viago, he built back up what house Arainai broke, again and again. He has earned her consideration by mending her shattered bones and breathing life back into drowned lungs. Lucanis Dellamorte is owed none of that. Why does he expect sentiment? Because he is a ‘fellow’ crow? Because he is heir to the first talon? Perhaps it is just because he is a fool.

“Treviso will endure.”

She was snatched from its streets once, kicking and screaming because she knew what happened to little elven girls. Those who might have interceded looked the other way once they noticed the fine Antivan leathers of the crow who grasped her by the hair. She had endured, it is their time now.