#highwrath

[vanderetein]

" 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬... 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨𝐰." — 𝔥𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔥,   𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐟𝐟  𝐯𝐚𝐧  𝐝𝐞𝐫  𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧,   infinite  edits.

[zanaluna-a]

‘ i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own ’

hunger, she can understand. the toothless mouth ever gnawing, the churning of a mill when empty of grain, stone grinding against stone. she understands too what it means to be uprooted - has watched time and again as castles of sand crumble, as others are built in their place, just as precariously. it's hard to tell then which unsettles her more.

❝ i find myself in need of a perpetual reminder that the only immutable constant there can be in my life is, well ... ❞ she scoffs, self deprecating and a touch exasperated. this is an old wound that will keep bleeding, and still the world turns. still the sun sets, and the stars come, ❝ myself. but the burden is always easier to carry when shared. ❞

[daandova]

continued from here - @highwrath

well i'd never !! yanking her final bolt from the already reeking corpse of a too large arachnid in front of her , valvari's brow tightens when she looks back at detlaff. ease means nothing !! nor does commonality for that matter. " i could shoot a chicken from yards away , that doesn't make their movements any more or less erratic and arduous to deal with. " thankfully they were only in the wilds of skyrim , not a cave where her audible remarks may have held more water. for now , at least , gargantuan snakes wouldn't be an issue. ( though just because you haven't seen them yet doesn't quite mean they don't exist. )

the pair continue wandering the rift , the dragonborn's eyes squinting at her sanguine companion. " should i infer from your inflection that SPELUNKING IN THE DARK is considered a bad thing in this case ?? i think it's done a whole lot of good ─── more than a giant snake can say. "

[letalis]

❛ you must know, i do not trust easily. ❜ she meets his gaze easily, tilting her head up to match the height between them. it was true, she didn't trust easily, but it seems lately that she didn't have much of a choice. it's either she trusts a bunch of strangers with her life, or risk going it alone and perhaps dying in the process. and despite only knowing as much as a name, dying certainly wasn't an option. her lips purse and her hand fidgets at her side. ❛ so, please ... don't break it. ❜ / @highwrath.

[alcriti]

i take care of you. you don't need anything. / @highwrath

The evolution of his dependency on Dettlaff is a thought Astarion cannot shake… Despite the elder vampire being so gracious with his home, his knowledge, and even his blood, inadequacy, and the gnawing feeling it bore, remains as a constant. He is getting better, albeit at a rate much slower than he would like ( and perhaps Dettlaff too, even though he might not admit it ). The pain is less severe, but it lingers deep in his bones and the twisting in his stomach — the craving of blood — threatens to push him toward means he worries he will not have the fortitude to resist.

They sit together in relative silence, Astarion urged his host to accompany him outside and the distant call of birdsong, the gentleness of the breeze… It allows him to feel normal. Yet, Dettlaff's declaration hurdles him towards the reality they have both made for themselves. Things are not so normal.

Astarion's lips press into a line, his eyes casting out beyond their surroundings as he sits in the rickety wooden chair. ❝ You've done more than enough! ❞ His voice is louder than he intends, forcing a more respectable tone. ❝ I… I appreciate your hospitality, your generosity, but Dettlaff, you are not my caretaker. I need to learn to help myself; sickness notwithstanding. I fear I have already relied upon you too much, ❞

[krwioholik]

❝ did i wake you? my apologies. ❞  

@highwrath

Wrapped in a thick blanket that dragged slightly on the floor after him, Regis came into the room to greet his blood brother. He has indeed been woken up by his return and he looked it, his gaze still a little hazy with sleepiness, thin wisps of his hair sticking at odd angles.

"You've been gone long." He stated as he came closer. "It's past noon, isn't it? And cold." A mild note of complaint snuck into Regis' voice. He leaned into Dettlaff's arms, closing his eyes as he laid his cheek against his shoulder. He inhaled his scent and it immediately soothed the mild sense of anxiety he still experienced when alone. Though his recovery was going well, the fact that he was now able to walk on his own a testament to that, he was still fragile. And it wasn't a pleasant state. In Dettlaff he found not only warmth, but more importantly comfort.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

[alcriti]

He cannot help but scoff dismissively; a position he ought not to take considering the gravity of his own condition, and yet he does. Astarion has scarce moved beyond the bed and the lounging chair, alternating between the two. This day, he is feeling worse than the day prior, propped up against a backing of somewhat soft pillows.

❝ Supplanting an elder with brute force isn't the same as using blood rituals. My elder was... foolish in that regard. A mistake I hope neither of us make. ❞ His voice falls in his throat, suppressed by a cough that surges up from his chest. It sounds as though his chest were full of liquid, and he instinctively looks at his hand to check for the poison moving through him. He is relieved to see nothing. ❝ What's the purpose of being deemed a higher vampire with power far beyond that of mine own if you don't use it? ❞

@highwrath / cont.

[wilczmin]

he  doubted  his  black  blood  still  worked  ,    seeing  as  the  blood  that  now  flowed  from  his  side  and  through  the  largest  tear  in  his  leathers  was  now  a  deep  crimson  instead  of  a  deep  black  .    his  body  breathed  shallowly  for  him  ,    but  he  could  not  feel  the  pain  of  his  wounds  ,    and  preferred  simply  to  lie  still  in  the  lone  patch  of  grass  beneath  the  tree  to  which  he  had  managed  to  drag  himself  .    here  ,    he  was  not  aiming  to  be  found  .    by  anyone  at  all  ,    in  fact  ,    whether  or  not  they  might  be  able  to  help  him  .    as  bruised  and  bleeding  as  he  was  ,    nothing  would  be  able  to  help  him  save  the  potions  that  ran  through  his  veins  .    recovery  was  quick  for  a  witcher  ,    but  terrible  pain  was  terrible  pain  ,    no  matter  the  kind  .

@highwrath  .    ❛ that’s  quite  a  scratch  you’ve  got  there  . ❜

the  witcher's  jaw  clenched  .    the  last  person  he  needed  to  find  him  was    …    (  he  lifted  his  head  ,    looking  toward  dettlaff  ,    squinting  through  drooping  eyelids  ;    all  he  wanted  was  to  shut  his  eyes  and  meditate  until  he  awakened  ,    aching  but  solid  again  )        was  him  .    was  this  .    was  regis'  friend  ,    uh   

❛        i'm  fine  .        ❜        his  voice  ,    contrary  to  the  words  ,    sounded  strained  from  the  pain  .    still  ,    he  pushed  through  ,    slowly  pushing  himself  onto  his  left  elbow  .    his  wound  throbbed  noticeably  ,    and  he  could  swear  he  felt  a  different  part  of  his  armour  wetten  with  his  blood  .    head  lowered  ,    chin  raised  just  enough  to  look  at  the  vampire  ,    geralt  stared  ,    measured  .    perhaps  a  bit  hazy  .    milky  strands  of  hair  clung  to  his  sweaty  neck  and  jaw  and  forehead  and  cascaded  to  partially  obscure  one  of  his  eyes  .        ❛        how'd  you  know  i  was  hurt  ?    great  of  you  to  notice  .        ❜        then  he  blinked  ,    as  he  finally  recognised  dettlaff  through  his  double  vision  .

he  smiled  lazily  .        ❛        come  to  finish  me  off  ?    gotta  say  ,    alp  did  a  better  job  than  you  did  first  time  around  .        ❜

𐎟܆᭝゜ random dialogue 2.0  !                 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 .