#falonel lightborne

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Just felt like posting these two again, for no reason.

(of course there's a reason — it's because @evanreichel is amazing, and she's done my stupid little blorbos so well)

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"Delicious," the man growled, the small appetizer of pain calming the Beast once more. Delighted by her offering of sinful flesh, he pressed a kiss into the sweltering handmark he'd left before heading towards their bedchambers, his prize in tow.

Oh, the things he had planned for her.

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A question that's recently been on my mind. What is Falonel's relationship like with his Highlord and what are Falonel's thoughts of him? 👻

I wasn't sure of the answer myself, since it's never come up! However, I've consulted the Oracle and this is what he said:

I've always envisioned Falonel as very glad that Mograine is in charge. Mograine is still a DK, of course, but he's definitely more on the "negotiable" side of things than not, but with the ruthlessness that Falonel appreciates. It's very likely that Falonel either directly reports to Mograine or one of his direct underlings, too, given that with the work that Falonel does it's unlikely he'd report to anyone else really.

With that said, if there's ever a large change in leadership, it's possible Falonel would be out of his current job.

So, there you have it! I was curious about this too, and hadn't really been something I'd thought about before, so thanks for asking 😁

Edit: as an aside, I realise this doesn't exactly answer "what's their relationship like", but suffice it to say it's probably a strictly professional one, and it's not likely they see much of each other outside of briefings etc.

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Ahhh, I did it. I wrote a Winter Veil story. Putting the Ellipsus link here cause I don't wanna fuck with formatting:

Ellipsus makes it easy for anyone to write together.

Words: 1,756

Rating: G

Iantha convinces Falonel to come visit the village near their tower in Grizzly Hills. There, the death knight meets a new friend who mistakes him for someone else.

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One of my favourite passages from RP between myself and Falonel's writer/player (with some edits for clarity):

"Do I hate all that I do? Of course not," he answered after a long moment. "Do I enjoy it all? The same answer, again. But despite the misgivings and rumblings that my brother and sister Knights might whisper about my station behind my back, it is perhaps one more suited to slaughter and revelry of domination than they would understand. The court is a den of wolves, and I so very enjoy the hunt."

Baring his teeth down at her in a malicious facsimile of a smile, the moonlight through the window reflected off his pale hair and face, lending him a lupine appearance before spinning them both into the shadows. The shade did little to stifle the sound of his voice as it echoed against the walls with an edge of malevolent intent.

"How safe and elated they are to be out of harm's way, enjoying another evening of repose, dining, and fenced words while the struggles of a worthy life eludes them. And they see me—ME—and think to themselves: an abomination, a monster. A friend they can ignore!"

The music's tempo increased as the magic that drove it surged with Falonel's predatory demeanor. Their footsteps wheeled them about the room, his hands lifting Iantha from the ground thrice with a flourish of ghostly, distant notes.

"By the time they realize their mistake, it is far too late. They are not wolves, but sheep in a slaughterhouse: a taunting word here, a bit of praise there. A wink, or a hint of enticing blood magic and another countess is mine—another baron shown to be a fool, all whilst the magics and theatrics they have used to further their own ends rolls off me like water off a cloak. You should see the fear in their eyes when they realize! The Reavers of the Knights of the Ebon Blade may paint their canvas with a shower of bloody strokes, but I do so with rent hearts, aching minds, and wayward souls!"

His words held an edge of mania, like a lord of old pontificating to a would-be hero come to challenge his authority. Taking her firmly by the waist, the Ambassador lifted Iantha into another magnificent twirl, then back down again to alight in his arms. He stepped forward then, forcing the warlock to lean back in his possessive grasp.

"I am the wolf with jaws around their throat. They love me for it, and I hate them."

With one arm about her waist and another around her shoulders, Falonel pressed his teeth to her bare throat, his insidious, unholy magic suffusing her in a whirl of intoxicating hate, love, and lust; of focus, joy, and sorrow.

The music had reached a pitched, frantic pace matched by the outpouring of his heart, soul, and affection into his Felblood confidante, carried along a potent stream that setting her blood aflame.

Finally, their frenetic waltz slowed to a halt, and Falonel stilled as the soft notes of the piano died away. Saliva dripped down his lover's throat where his mouth had found its mark, joined by a single, faint trickle of blood sourced from the sharp point of his tooth. Allowing the fervor of the moment to slip away, the knight stepped back, jaws snapping shut with the surety of an iron trap. Resuming his usual reserved demeanor, he peered down at the woman still helpless in his grasp.

"Do I enjoy my role, Lady Dusklight? I daresay not. I love it."

(Art of this unhinged pair by the lovely @evanreichel)