#fwc2024

[polluxhale]

It seemed inevitable that they would end up in the Chamber of the Heart to meet with Magni again; this was expected with what was going on in the world. But the unexpected part was Magni now lying unconscious in Dalaran with an answer only known to himself and ‘memories’ of past battles cropping up in various locations all over Azeroth. Pollux knew that he would likely be fighting again soon, but against things already fought and killed was an interesting turn. Just another day on ‘what the fuck is going on in Azeroth’. It was hard to be surprised anymore in this world.

He found himself in the frigid cold of Dragonblight once more, recalling just how much he hated it here. It was there at Wyrmrest Temple where he first experienced the Radiant Song. Ever since the incident in Silithus, more and more had been experiencing the phenomena and it was only a matter of time before it happened to Pollux. He was grateful to not have been mid-battle, it had already caused issues for some of his fellow soldiers on the field.

It was the briefest of glimpses of the world-soul in her brilliant glory; overbearing yet comforting at the same time and just a kaleidoscope of strange juxtapositions. The feminine voice sliced through his mind, whispering but also screaming his name. In a matter of seconds it ended, and his glazed over expression focused once more on the frozen landscape before him. A handful of others showed telltale signs of having just experienced the same thing. There was something oddly comforting about that, and finally having first-hand experience to learn from. 

The one thing it showed him was that this was going to be much bigger than anyone had anticipated, and there was so much more to come. All of this was just the very tip of the iceberg.

[aerdendios]

It had been a grueling eight months of training for the Elite Forces, and it was nowhere near over yet. In his eyes, at times, he was still that scrawny little kid that ran away and hid from his first battle against the Legion all those years ago. Now his confidence had grown, as had his strength and his skills and it showed in the way he excelled in his training - much to his surprise at times.

The remaining candidates had been promised a couple weeks of leave before the more specialized training would begin, but they all knew something was on the horizon. Aerden hadn’t been the only one experiencing the Radiant Song within his training group, and news of recent happenings was quick to spread. The question on everyone’s mind was what would happen with them should the military be deployed while they were still in training. 

A question that they didn’t have to wait for long to be answered. It wasn’t completely unexpected and had happened in the past when numbers were needed, and this was clearly one of those cases. With more and more seeing and hearing the Radiant Song, and now these ‘memories’ cropping up all over Azeroth, the situation seemed dire. It was hard to ignore Azeroth’s own pleas for aid. 

A couple days were spent alone in the comforts of his own home, simply relaxing and mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Only Pollux knew he was home, but Pollux had already been deployed and soon Aerden would be joining him in Dragonblight. On one hand it felt good to be getting back to the field, but mystery shrouded this entire chain of events and it was impossible to know what would happen next.

Standing just outside the doorway of his long neglected Silvermoon apartment with his rucksack flung over one shoulder, he exhaled a tired sigh. It was impossible to know when he’d be able to return.

@polluxhale

[vixannya]

His name had been tossed around quite a bit lately in their inner circle, and Vixannya could admit she was a sucker for a skilled musician. But that wasn’t her only reason for taking a late night trip to the Darkmoon Faire, there were other, hidden motives that no one but her needed to know. She inquired after this ‘Jace Landon’ and was pointed in the right direction, although the sound of his violin made it easy enough to pinpoint his location. 

She had to admit, his skills seemed wasted in this place, but she could understand the desire to work and play on one’s own schedule. He seemed the sort to prefer to take his own direction in life and have no one tell him what to do or when to do it. Relatable. She stood near the back of the audience and silently watched him, brows raising in interest as various crowd members seemed to donate perhaps just a little bit too much gold or even their expensive looking adornments. No one seemed to bat an eyelash in doing so; she wouldn’t question it aloud.

The longer she watched and listened, the more enraptured she found herself. The music seemed to pierce her very soul and draw out unexpected emotions, suddenly finding herself caught up in some sort of lucid daydream. Or at least it started as a daydream, and then abruptly turned into one of her ‘episodes’. It wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last that one of her visions suddenly came on without warning; some people just had a certain something about them that triggered her without having to make use of more invasive means.

She finally blinked out of it and found herself thankfully still standing and watching. She hadn’t collapsed or fainted this time, that was always a task to explain to a crowd of onlookers. Although now her mind was now occupied and nearly overwhelmed by what she had seen in those brief moments. He certainly was a curious one, it was no wonder so many were drawn to him.

She waited around for the crowd to disperse before making her approach, holding out one of her business cards between two fingers. “Vixannya Ana’diel. I believe you’re acquainted with some friends of mine: Sana, Pyraelia, Kaisina. I know you’re busy this week, but I’d like you to contact me soon. I have an offer you are absolutely not going to want to refuse.” She left it at that, recognizing another appreciator of mystery when she found one.

He took the card, tilting his head. “Jace Landon. You have me intrigued, Miss Ana’diel. I’ll contact you soon.” He was semi-acquainted with her at this point, having been told of her various galleries and, apparently, killer after parties. She seemed like a woman he would want to know. She flashed him a charming smile, eyeing him over once more before dipping her head politely,”Until then.” Turning on heel, she made her way down the dirt road, glancing only once over her shoulder to get a final look at him. He looked oddly familiar.

@jacelandon mentions of @twosidedsana @pyraelia @kaisinasunblade

[xylaes]

((Warnings: Mentioned of blood, drugs, wounds, some knife use))

Xylaes rapped his knuckles against the door, taking a step back and stuffing his hands in his pockets while he waited for a response. Ouro had never invited him to his personal flat before. This had been a curious surprise, especially given the fact he had no idea why he was here. Discussing another job, he assumed, but why here?

A variety of bolts and locks clicked behind the heavy door before it was cracked open to the darkness within. Xylaes stood there, awaiting an invitation or at least for the door to open all the way. When neither happened, caution washed over him as he reached for the dagger safely tucked away within his boot, holding it at the ready. With a shove, the door flung open the remainder of the way and a familiar metallic scent wafted out towards him.

“Ouro?” Standing off to the side of the doorframe, he listened for a response.

He heard a form moving about, bumping into some furniture and knocking over what sounded like a large, empty bottle. Whoever was in there was stumbling about drunk or injured, or possibly both. Finally, a familiar voice, “Yeah, come in. Lock the door behind you.”

Xylaes stepped within, turning the light on in the process to break the darkness from the blackout curtains covering every window. He immediately clocked the collection of empty bottles and the skewed lines of powder atop the coffee table. Then there was Ouro himself, obviously not sober and now that he turned to face his guest, Xylaes could see the smears of dried blood on his neck, cheek, chest, and arms. Semi-fresh gashes still oozed on the man’s chest and bicep as well, clearly having gone untreated for some time.

“Why are you here?”

“...You told me to come over.” Xylaes held up his comm and gave it a shake. “Do you…” He trailed off, deciding not to ask if Ouro needed help. He obviously did, but would never admit to it. Xy could relate to that kind of stubbornness. “Here, it’s been a while, but I’m fairly decent with stitches. Let me fix those up. Do you have a kit?”

Clearly that was the right thing to say as Ouro waved him towards the bathroom without any complaint. Most of his space was meticulously clean aside from this recent mess made, leading Xylaes to believe that this was an unusual circumstance. He wasn’t about to question what had happened, doubtful he would ever get an answer. With men like them, it was better to allow them to talk rather than be asked.

Locating the first aid kit, he returned to the kitchen table and began setting out supplies before washing his hands at the sink. “Come sit at the table, there’s better light here.”

Ouro was shockingly compliant, bumping a knee into an end table before he nearly collapsed onto the pushed out chair. Xylaes pulled another chair up in front of him, pulling all the needed supplies closer before wetting some cloth with an antiseptic. There was a moment of hesitation as he looked at Ouro’s glazed over eyes, wondering if he would even remember any of this, or would regret having messaged him.

The moment Xylaes pressed the cloth against the chest wound, he suddenly found himself with a very sharp dagger pressed against the side of his neck, and a now very aware and very angry Ouro glaring at him. It was in his second nature to react immediately, both hands gripped the knife arm and yanked it away and down from his person. He was quickly met with an elbow to the face, but managed enough sense to slam Ouro’s hand against the side of the chair, causing him to drop the knife. Before the other man could land any more blows, Xylaes twisted the captured arm and then moved a hand to grab Ouro’s neck, squeezing tight and giving him a hard slam against the back of the chair. “STOP IT. You are safe, I’m here to help.”

The scent of sweat, alcohol, and old and new blood lingered in this space as the two regarded each other, breathing deeply. It was in that moment that Xylaes had truly understood Ouro. They were the same, afterall, and a part of him knew he would have reacted the exact same way at one point in his life.

He looks so much like Pollux right now.

Ouro curled his free hand around the wrist holding his neck, but didn’t attempt to remove it, instead digging his fingers into the skin. There was so much rage clinging to the air it was almost palpable, but Xylaes knew it wasn’t directed at him. Vengeance is a monster of an appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled. Xylaes lightened his grip, yet Ouro almost seemed to keep his hand in place, even as he struggled to take a deep breath.

He and Pollux have the same lips.

Finally after an intense few moments, both grips relented. Xylaes couldn’t help but to drag his fingers along the elongated scar on the front of Ouro’s neck before fully retracting his hand and clearing his throat. There was so much shared pain in this room, and now an understanding as well. Xylaes picked up the dropped cloth and this time didn’t hesitate as he began to clean one of the wounds. For the first time since Xylaes had met him, Ouro seemed to finally relax.

Mentions: @ouroandar & @polluxhale (Ouro's fraternal twin)

[jacelandon]

Jace sat on his bed and counted his earnings from the Faire with a pleased expression.  It had been an extremely lucrative week for him, making as much in one week as he would in a typical month, if not more, from busking alone. Most of it was gold, but he had also been gifted a few trinkets purchased at the Faire itself including a music box, a leather bound journal (with a comm number in it), and chimes made of bone. He almost appreciated the random gifts more, not having had much of a chance to peruse the booths himself.

Being a night owl had absolutely paid off. While there weren’t any actual scheduled events during the wee hours of the morning, those looking for something to do were always attracted to the sound of lively music. He would often draw in a crowd of drunken dancers and the occasional other musician to join him in an impromptu jam session. The people here clearly appreciated good music, or perhaps just something to do while everyone else slumbered. Then, he would typically find himself on the arm of some pretty or handsome thing and indulge in other types of fun until the sun came up.

This morning he had quietly slipped out of the tent of two Sin’dorei women he had met the night prior, stifling a laugh as he spotted their fourth doing the exact same thing. Ryland was, at least, a familiar face. The two clearly had quite a bit in common when it came to late night activities, and this wasn’t the first time they had found themselves in a tent together. “Do you remember their names?” Ryland murmured as the duo walked briskly away. “Did you ever get their names?” Jace grinned at his…friend? Were they friends? They hadn’t really shared much conversation, but he certainly felt in a cordial way towards the other man. Perhaps it was the endorphins still coursing through his body. Ryland simply shrugged and began to break off, giving a wave, “Until next time.” Jace offered a casual two-fingered salute, “Until then.”

He smirked at the recent memory, it had been a good night. A good week, no, an amazing week, and he was absolutely going to miss it. This place had been an absolute dream for him and he was looking forward to spoiling himself. The gold was safely locked away in his safe before he finally laid down for some sleep just as everyone else was beginning their day.

@rylandfalkov

[dicenne]

He stared down at the two cups of coffee with a furrowed brow. It happened on occasion, on those mindless mornings when he was still stuck somewhere between asleep and awake. His wife, Linalia, had passed away years ago, but old habits crept up on occasion. He remembered well that she needed her morning coffee lest she be irritable the remainder of the day, and this certainly wasn’t the first time it had happened.

Smiling to himself, he took both cups out onto his balcony anyways, and set one down on the table near the adjacent chair. It was, after all, her birthday, and she deserved a little treat. Once upon a time, this day would have brought him a lot of great sorrow. While the heartache remained, it had lightened over the years, warping into something more tolerable. There was a sadness in that as well, knowing it had been so long since her passing that the pain no longer sent him into a downward spiral. As if he were doing her some sort of disservice, even though it would be the last thing she wanted. They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of grief is finite

“Happy Birthday, Lina.” He clinked his mug against hers before taking a sip as he looked down over early morning Ratchet. It was peaceful for now and would remain that way for at least a few hours; this was possibly his favorite time of the day. Soon enough the port town would come to life and his comm would start chiming. The mere thought of it already aggravated him, and it didn’t take long for him to decide that he would just not deal with any of it today. Not on her birthday.

The two cups of coffee were forgotten as he went inside to pack a small day bag with swimming trunks, a towel, a change of clothing, and some snacks and drinks. His comm was tossed onto his bed as he headed downstairs and out the door to his mechano-hog. He had no idea where he was headed, but it felt good to get away from everything for a while.

[tazindrox]

The great feast of Noblegarden has long been celebrated by the races of the Alliance and recently adopted by those of the Horde. On this joyous day, it is customary for the nobles and lords from each race to hide coins, candy, and the occasional treasures within special eggs painted to look like wildflowers. These eggs are then scattered around the major cities for the citizenry to find. 

Coming from a society where everyone was essentially treated as equals, this particular holiday left a bad taste in Taz’s mouth. It had been one of the strangest things to him upon the Dracthyr’s release into the world: The vast discrepancy between the classes of many of the various Azerothian cultures. The rich flaunted their riches while the poor struggled to make ends meet. It didn’t seem fair, yet no one really tried to do anything about it. Perhaps they thought there was nothing that could be done, or they had all been set in their ways for far too long. That he could understand to an extent.

It was a side of Azeroth he disliked. As he spent more and more time out in the world, he had come to find many things he disliked. Not about Azeroth herself, she was a beautiful world, but the people that tread upon her tainted and warped her to their liking. There was still so much good in the world, but there was an equal amount of bad, and it was difficult to know where he, or any of the Dracthyr, fit in sometimes. 

But that’s what they were all trying to accomplish now, wasn’t it? Find their purpose and their place in an imperfect world. It hadn’t been an easy road thus far, but at least now he had a better understanding of the world at large.

[kaisinasunblade]

Kai watches the darkness of the room as sleep eludes her once more. It was hard telling if it was because she was still getting use to sleeping in a new bed, in a new place or if her thoughts refuse to stop running laps around her brain. Tomorrow was her first day with out any classes, so at lest she could sleep in.

So far the classes had been pretty easy to handle, the homework was on the lighter side for now. But her studies always kept her busy. She had woken up late the first morning of her classes, tired and very sore. Even the slightest hint of movement would remind her of what had happen the night before. She had been a bit irritable when she had learned that Jace had left her with a nice room service tab.

But the soreness of her body, her muscles made it hard to stay that way. Even now days later her cheeks flushed when ever she thought about that night. Each ache, each tenderness. She sighs softly, before throwing the cover off her body and stood. A steady pattering drew her over to the window in her bedroom. The scent of rain hit her as she opens it, leaning against the wall to watch droplets of rain come down.

Some how she had managed to juggle between her classes, making sure her homework was done, and still able to go to Silvermoon to catch up with her friends. She missed Ratchet, she missed sleeping in her own bed. She missed him. Moving away from the window, she makes her way into the kitchen to brew a pot of tea. It always seems to help when she was unable to sleep. As the tea brews, she curls up on the chair by the window, a book in hand.

She needed to send out a few letters tomorrow. More so she needed to reach out to Fio and Annya in hopes they might be able to help her plain a little house warming party.

@jacelandon @dicenne @fio-renze @vixannya for mentions