Hmmmmm that’s also a hard one I’ve only been rping revamped Eccia since Void elves came out. Tbh, I think my favorite rp memory thus far has been a rather depressing one. Eccia and Illdraes had gone to the Darkmoon faire and were having one of their deeper conversations they are known to have about their pasts while also trying to learn to trust one another as friends. That night she got a little overly emotional about recent events in the Rift and to cheer her up and prove Void magic wasn’t all bad, he conjured a tiny void panther in his hand that mimicked Na’mu when he was a cub. He even animated it so it was being cute and it managed to cheer Eccia up some and break the emotional rollercoaster she was on. She and I both never forgot that rp and I think it was a pretty important one for the characters. So I like to reflect back on it. Plus baby panther cubs are adorable.
Thank you for the interest BB ❤️ @thalkituuns mentions of @illdraes
Milo stood quietly outside the shopkeeper’s door waiting patiently for his father to return with the items they were sent to buy. While he waited he kept himself busy by drawing circles in the dirt with a stick he’d found. Some of what he drew were druidic symbols, others were just fun squiggles. A cat approached him with a loud purr and brushed up against his leg looking for attention. Milo smiled at the orange tabby and welcomed his new small friend with a gentle scratch between the ears. The cat purred and purred under his touch, “thank you” the cat continued to purr and rub it’s body against Milo’s leg. Of course cats couldn’t talk, but Milo always understood them.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled at the tabby and then he reached into his pocket and pulled a strip of dried meat he was saving for the walk back to his family’s camp. The cat bounced up and grabbed the meat scurrying off with it’s tail pointed to the sky in delight of its treat. Milo smiled as he watched the cat disappear into the crowd when suddenly he heard the shopkeeper’s door open. His father stumbled out laughing with a man Milo knew to be Rasmus, his father’s longtime friend. He was much older than his father with a big furry mustache.
“My eye’s just ain’t what they used to be.” Rasmus told his father and he too belted out a jolly laugh holding his stomach as if to try and hold it in. Milo stood and ran over to them and Rasmus immediately smiled upon seeing the young druid.
“My, Jameson, your boy’s looking older every time I see him!”
“Hello Mr. Rasmus!” Milo happily waved his hand at him.
“Good t’see you, boy, how’s your mother holding up these days?” He bent forward with his hands on his hips and a raised brow.
“She’s good! She’s making stew for us today!”
Rasmus stood up right and breathed a wistful sigh.
“I sure do miss her cookin’.” He said and turned to look at Jameson. “On yer next visit do bring me back some will ya? Ellie’s ah... well you know her cookin’s ain’t what it used to be.” He near whispered that last part but a loud female voice came from within the shop.
“I HEARD THAT!”
Milo looked confused but his father and Rasmus once again burst into joyous fits of laughter. When all had settled Milo took notice of something his father held strapped behind his back.
“What’s that, Papa?” He pointed to a long brown instrument and when Jameson heard his inquiry he swiveled it around to the front to reveal a beautiful guitar.
“Isn’t it nice? Rasmus said he was gonna toss it but I figured I’d take it off his hands. Keep home a little less boring.” He winked at Milo and the small druid just continued to look at the instrument in awe.
“You know how to play that?” Milo asked.
“Of course, yer father’s got the talent for anything with a few strings... or laces.” Rasmus nudged Jameson in the arm with a chuckle and Jameson smiled at him shaking his head.
“Like your bow!” Milo shouted.
“You got it.” Jameson smiled at him and after a few more minutes of talking the three of them said goodbye and Milo and Jameson took off back to camp.
When they got there Annalise was already at the fire preparing their dinner. Judging from the smell Milo guessed it was his favorite apple beef stew. Annalise looked happy to see them and immediately Milo ran to hug her and Jameson walked over to give her a kiss on her forehead and hand her the items they were originally sent to buy. As she got ready to sort them out she got a glimpse of the guitar on Jameson’s back and tilted her head at him motioning for Milo to resume his studying before dinner.
“Rasmus let you take more of his... refuse?” Milo knew that was her fancy word for trash.
“Yes, you know, ‘one man’s trash’ as they say...” Jameson sat down across from her behind the fire and rested the guitar in his lap. He knew Annalise didn’t like him taking extra things for the road but he thought she wouldn’t mind this much.
“Mr. Rasmus says Papa can play it.” Milo said as he grabbed his notebook and sat down next to his mother.
“Yes, ‘anything with strings’.” He repeated what Rasmus had said earlier.
“And laces.” Milo continued and Annalise and Jameson both looked at him. Annalise’s cheeks tinted pink as she turned to look at her husband who had his face hiding in his hand stifling a laugh.
“Yes, well, anyway” Annalise cleared her throat and continued to work on the meal she was preparing. “Won’t you play something then?” She smiled at him and Jameson looked as if he couldn’t wait for her to ask him that.
Not before long their campsite was filled with music, a kind of music Milo hadn’t personally heard before. Mixed with the crackling of their fire, the sound of apple beef stew boiling in the iron pot, their campsite was the most homely its felt in ages. They found it refreshing.
After dinner Jameson continued to play some more and the sounds carried Milo’s attention straight out of his notebook. He jumped up and went to his father who continued to play.
“I want to learn to play something too!” Milo had decided.
“Oh yeah? This?” Jameson gestured to the guitar as he strummed a few more chords of his song.
Milo shook his head, “something else, so we can play together!” Jameson chuckled and nodded his head at Milo who bounced happily. Milo loved listening to his father play that guitar, he would love it the next night too and many more nights after that.
Late into the evening Annalise had sent Milo to bed and she stayed up cuddled next to her husband by the fire as he continued, still, to play soothing songs.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so invested in something. You love this, don’t you?” She asked him nuzzling her face into his shoulder.
“I haven’t just sat and played like this in years, you know I think Milo and I should start a band. What do you think?” Annalise laughed and playfully pushed him. Jameson had stopped playing and he put his arm around Annalise giving her a kiss on the top of her head.
“Milo has a lot of studying to do, I don’t think he’ll have time to travel the world with you.” She smiled.
“Ah, a solo act it is.” He pretended to look sad. “It’s okay, that boy’s going places in his own way.” Jameson stretched and sat the guitar down next to him.
“He’s going to be a very skilled druid someday.” Annalise leaned into Jameson. “I can already tell he’s making such a difference in this world.”
“Well with you guiding him I’m not surprised.” He smiled at her and gave her another kiss. He rested his cheek on top of her head and for a moment they sat there peacefully enjoying each other’s company.
“By the way...” Jameson broke the silence. “Rasmus wants your food. I think he’s jealous my wife cooks better than his.” Annalise laughed and so did Jameson and they sat that way for a while until finally putting out the fire for the night. They climbed into their tent and slept on either side of Milo as they usually did and the three of them snored off the apple beef stew while sounds of guitar strings played in their heads.
They remember it like it was only yesterday. They had gone into the Depths of the Void, searching for…someone. But who? They couldn’t remember their name, only that they needed to find this person. They travel further into the Depths, spending many hours searching, before finding a ring, shining brighter than the stars. For some reason, they are filled with grief, before quickly becoming enraged, taking their anger out on themselves. They tear out chunks of Code, blood thicker than tar beginning to flow from wounds opening up along their body. Once finished, they kneel there, breathing heavily, before gently picking up the ring and placing it in one of many pockets.
