#eurynine

[starsworn]

Character Aesthetic: The Lark and the Egret Daephrin Starsworn & Eurynine Primmling

While I was offline, I had some time to kill. So I made a thing.

[mewkeere]

Brilliant Green Eyes

"...and that is the reason we need to do this for Silvermoon, even if it means keeping a large portion of the city cordoned off. Sending out members of the guard would only put them in potential danger, and lack of surety that the threat had been eliminated would put civilians trying to re-inhabit the area in potential danger. The Blood Knights are currently seeing to worldly matters and we do not have the option to have them fight along side the guard. Even if the Knights were available, while I would feel better about the extermination,  I would fear for our citizens safety until we have a fail-safe plan to put an end to the wretched infestation that has taken hold in the city’s broken western recesses." The General paused and looked out across the audience that had gathered to listen to the speech, raising his chin slightly as he heard murmurs agreeing with him. The continuous movement of his gaze paused momentarily at woman who looked as though she was hanging on his every word. Quickly surveying the rest of the crowd he finished off his speech reiterating how important Silvermoon’s citizens were, stating that his party’s plan was to continue withholding the western reaches of the old city for now. Cheers broke out as the general finished, raising his hand slightly to signal he was done speaking. His rival, Eurynine Primmling has spoken on this same subject earlier today demanding the people be given what was theirs. After all, who was General Phoenixguard and his men to keep the people from their rightful land? He turned, leaving the podium and the crowd before it. "General! That was fantastic! Did you attend Primmling’s speech earlier?" "I wouldn’t be caught dead at one of his rag-tag rallies," Al was quick to answer one of his political lieutenants. "Of course General, you just countered so many of his points I thought perhaps… sorry, General.  But, that was great, we’re all behind you!" "No need to apologize, I only said what needed to be said. I figured he would make it a point to say ‘give the people what’s rightfully theirs’, that’s always his line. Sometimes the people just don’t realize what’s good for them. What good is going back to the houses of their parents if they will be slaughtered by wretched beasts? Especially if the rumors about them organizing are true." That was a detail they had managed to keep quiet from the public. Even Eurynine agreed that it would only cause panic and possibly create vigilante types that would run in and get themselves killed without proper training. Reaching his office with a few of his men in tow, he paused and turned towards them. "Finish compiling the list of Blood Knights that will be returning next week and leave it on my desk I have a dinner to make it to tonight and don’t have time myself. I know it’s already late, but get that done and then come in after lunch tomorrow to make up for it." Though they had frowned to begin with, the ability to come in late the next day changed many of their minds. After all, it wouldn’t take them more than an hour to finish checking the list for corrections, then they’d have a whole half day off for it. In truth Alastor just didn’t want to be questioned about his dinner reservations and thought it would be the perfect distraction. "Of course General, see you tomorrow!" The three saluted and hurried into the office to make quick work of their assignment. Turning to leave, Alastor was surprised to see the same woman from the crowd waiting not far from the door to his offices. He wouldn’t have thought she was waiting for him, but she was looking right at him. He cleared his throat as he approached her. "Evening ma'am, is there something I can help you with?" "Oh, no, General Phoenixguard, I just wanted to thank you." She paused and offered a meek smile. Despite her timid gestures her sharp brilliant green eyes never left him. "What you said about keeping the population safe. I know a lot of them…of us, really want to retake everything that belongs to us, but if what you say is true about it being dangerous, then I’m glad there are men like you that care enough to do more than let us walk into the slaughter." Alastor was a little taken aback, her words were abrupt and to the point, but the play between her directness and the unassuming posture she took seemed out of place. "Well of course," he paused again and straightened his shoulders nodding, "there is nothing more important to Silvermoon than her people." She smiled and bowed her head slightly. "I just wanted to thank you in person. I’m very grateful to have met you, please excuse me." She waited for his nod and hurried past him. He turned briefly to watch her hurry past his office and around the corner. Something worth mentioning to Eury over dinner he thought.

[mewkeere]

If Mosur got a look at the Dark Portal while it was active, what were his thoughts?

Surwich wasn’t a town he’d keep to, the architecture was sharpand dull, dingy. While it didn’t have to be draenic buildings or architecturethere was just something off putting about this. Thick wooden beams, animalheads on walls, candle and fire lit rooms. He much preferred the magical lightsthat most cities and towns seemed to use now. But he still found himselflingering here.The dark portal was open, again, this time a blood red and from it pouredMaghar orcs, or at least that was his thought, or had been in the initialconfusion. Now they said it was open to a new Draenor an unblemished Draenor.An old home, at least the last place he’d dared call home.Don’t go. Don’t leave me. I don’t want tolose you.He knew these words, had heard them many times, but it had been decades sincehe’d heard them directed at him. Curiosity burned within him was it true? Wasthere another Draenor, how was it possible? Who would be there, who was onDraenor? Was this a portal to the past? The dragons had retreated though anddidn’t their abilities only work on Azeroth? He didn’t know.His Imp though, she didn’t want him to go. In fact she was off now trying toconvince another, his Mevar to stay as well. Her collection, Taeriix was withher though. Conflict stirred within him, he wanted to know. Promises ofhappiness from the past had been offered to him before, he knew they weren’treal, it was all too good to be true. It would only be more pain and torment,more traps to be snared in. Even still he couldn’t shake the thoughts from hiswandering mind. Would she be there?

[starsworn]

Bamboozled

“What a clever hint, my little bird. Of course we will go.”

Daephrin looked up from the book spread in his lap. “Huh? Go where?”

“The flyer you left on the desk? The night club on Friday. Yes, I want to go see what this is about.” Eurynine leaned a shoulder on the door frame and smiled at the smuggler sitting in the captain’s quarters of the beached boat they shared.

“The ni-... Wait. The one in Gadgetzan?”

“Yes, what did the flyer say - Club Trix? That one.”

Both of Dae’s ears drooped as his head sank between his shoulders in a huge and obvious wince. “Ah, um. About that. Can we...not? I don’t wanna go. It’s probably just going to be loud and full of half-clothed people and drunk ladies hitting on you and I don’t thi-”

“Really? That sounds fascinating!”

“Oh, no. Noooo. I don’t think you’d like it. There’s dancing and it’s not really dancing, more just like grinding sweaty bodies...” Daephrin trailed into silence at the hungry gleam in Eury’s bright green eyes. He had absolutely said the wrong thing.

“We’re going. Wear those damned pants.”

“But Eury, the guard out in Gadgetzan doesn’t like me much.”

“Oh?”

Dae lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “I might’ve gotten arrested for illicit arms dealing.”

“Might.”

“Aaaand spent two weeks in jail. In the dead of summer.”

“It’s spring. And you’ll be with me.”

Dae sighed heavily.

“I’ll dress up for you...” The priest quirked his pale eyebrows with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was the subtlest hint of a salacious eyebrow waggle.

The smuggler brightened, looking Eury over from toes to hair where he stood. “Alright. Deal.”

[starsworn]

Name one item that your character doesn’t use for its intended purpose. -- Shame

Packing his things from the inn at Silvermoon as he and the priest were leaving the city behind to find Shame and go flower-picking, Daephrin walked into the tiny bathroom that the inn considered a serviceable en suite offering. The room was an olfactory assault - almond and beeswax and spearmint and lavender, and just the faintest undertone of Dae’s own bay-rum-and-lime cologne. His eyes watered a little as he tried not to breathe too deeply of the evidence of the priest’s fastidious nature. He liked it - just not in quite such a heavy dose. Working fast before he ran out of breath, he stuffed his comb and his toothbrush and his shaving kit into his bag. As evidenced by the black scruff on his jaw, he certainly didn’t use the straight razor inside for shaving very often.

[shamestoneborn-blog]

Thoughts at 2am

 They both died at Hyjal, saving the world.

  The thought returned to her on the edge of sleep, as she struggled upward from confused dreams that verged on nightmares.  It seemed strange, as if it were somehow a fated thing.  No, that was a foolish thought.  Half a generation died at Hyjal.

  The machinery of world-saving runs on blood.

  Two men.

  One ripped to pieces by gargoyles as he and his fellows struggled to hold a rocky pass against the Scourge.  They came in waves.  Endless and unfeeling as the sea.  Just to the north of where he died is a lake – now, even as the fire elementals rage over Hyjal, the waters are clear.  When he died they were muddled with blood, clogged with the bodies of the dead.  The air had tasted of copper and rot that day, sneaking death into the lungs of still-living warriors, claiming them before they even fell.

  A bad way to die.

  The second brought down by swords clutched by dead fists, his blue-shining eyes widening as he tried to speak the healing spell and all that bubbled to his lips was blood.   His voice, sword and shield and healing hands, was silenced by the steel in his throat.   He fell.  The dead marched over him, armored feet pressing cloth and hair and flesh into the bloody earth.  He heard, from somewhere far away, Proudmoore’s voice, lifted above the sounds of battle, “Fall back!  Fall back!”

  One by one they lie down in the earth.

  Two men.

  One discovered and pried from the mud’s grip.  The frantic words chanted over him, the light curling around the hands of priests themselves still bleeding.  Life returned amid a charnel house.  One of the first.  An experiment.  Not done quite right.  He rose, still wordless and bleached bone-pale, his face new-born amid the fields of the dead.

  What did his eyes see, when he first woke?

  The second left to rot beside the bodies of those who killed him, until his bones’ rest was disturbed years later.  The necromancer’s grip pulled him from earth, from rest, from peace, from oblivion.  There was not much left of him, hardly enough of his own flesh to force his spirit to return.  The armor of a knight is heavy, and not just on the body.  It takes a certain sort of soul to bear the weight.

  Under the weight he rose up.

  Two men.  Now the world looks at them and calls one a beauty, one a beast.

  The world is wrong, for they are beauties both, and both beasts.

  One is a patchwork monster, a shambling creation of flesh and magic.  She has seen him kill – it is methodical and tireless, the way a machine would murder.  She has seen him angry, once.  The heat of his rage seared her flesh and filled her lungs with ashes.  He apologized afterward, though the anger had not been turned towards her, though he had not needed forgiveness.  He was a pillar, a touchstone, a cave where she could creep and curl and hide from the troubles of the world.

  Safety with monsters.

  The second is an ivory statue, poised and polished and perfectly presented.  But when she went too near, when she dared to speak or touch, so saw that the statue was cracked, that every facet and plane of it was guarded by a sharp edge.  He was as bright and gleaming as a blade – and his tongue as sharp.  He promised nothing, save to guard himself before all others.  He was mercurial in every sense of the word:  quicksilver - shining and poisonous, mercenary – his services available for coin. 

  Do not fear the poison.

  Two men.

  They both died at Hyjal.

  And where was I then?  Between walls of stone.  Offering aid and succor to their enemies.  Supporting the force that killed them.

  Sometimes she wondered about Time and Fate.  Sometimes she thought about Bronze dragons and the tricks they play.  Sometimes she wondered what the response would be if she knelt before metal wings and begged to save them.  Idle thoughts.  She would never ask the Bronze Flight for such a thing.

  Dragons are like gods.  They cannot be trusted and their gifts are never worth the price.

  That, yes, but more than that.  She was selfish, and to save them as they were – life and heart and beat and breath – would mean she would never have met them as they are.  They have been broken, but she prefers broken people, broken things.

  Two men.

  They both died.

[mewkeere]

Mosur: Someone is shipping Rook and another Tumblr users toon!

Eurynine: Samiesan?

Mosur: ya

Eurynine: Ooooh

Eurynine: I'm glad Rook has finally found a new vict- I MEAN FRIEND

Mosur: HAH

[alastoren]

Silk Sheets (one)

Potion takes twelve hours to take effect. Effects last 48 hours. Ingestion of a second potion while effects still active will make effect permanent. Best if potion is taken with meal before bed. Eury read the instructions over again and looked at the two bottles he'd bought. They had been expensive, very expensive, but hopefully they would be worth every penny. He bit his lip again and tucked one away in the bed stand on his side of the bed. Alastor wouldn't be back until tomorrow so he could let the potion take effect before the paladin arrived. Eury had a late meal and fingered the potion's cork. He'd already spend the money and committed to this idea. Why suddenly was he having butterflies? He worried Alastor wouldn't like it, maybe he'd be disgusted...no, no that wouldn't be the case. Weirded out maybe. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth rocking it back and forth. Finally his sense of confidence returned and he twisted the cork free of the ornate glass bottle. With only a second glance at the purple shimmering liquid he turned it up letting it pour down his throat. The concoction didn't taste that bad, for what senses the priest had. The taste was just on the cusp of bitter, a thick flavorant in it tasted vaguely fruity but was masked by sharp taste of the herbs used in the concoction. He was sure without the sweet additive it would have tasted even worse. Eury felt the butterflies returning as he set the empty bottle down, a slight residue remained in the bottle still shimmering against the dinning room light. Exhaling he finally stood and took his plate to the kitchen, he busied himself unlike normal and cleaned his dishes putting them away. His original plan was to go to bed soon after and wait till the morning but now he found himself pacing the apartment and straightening every item he found. It was well into the morning when the priest forced himself into the bed. By this time he was actually so exhausted he didn't bother to change clothes or crawl under the blankets. He simply collapsed on the bed and drifted off to sleep. Eury woke with a start and sat up. There were no sounds of Alastor home and he wondered the time. The priest crawled out of bed and wandered into the washroom to wake himself up. A smile broke across the priests face as the effects of the potion met him in the mirror, suddenly any worry he had experienced faded and he set about readying the apartment for the return of his love.