#musidex

[pyrrhicmessiah]

you’re alive? for @musidex { wells } 

She had woken up in a pristinely white room, alone and aware she was being watched. When she spied the person in the hazmat suit cleaning out Monty’s room, and when they wouldn’t answer her questions - well, Clarke Griffin did not take kindly to being caged. Demanding to be taken to her friends, Clarke held a shard of glass from the window she had broken against the sobbing girl’s neck. The sharp edges dug into her own palm, and her arm bled steadily from the cut she’d suffered in unlocking the door. It wasn’t until they’d walked into a room full of people happily chattering, that she froze, her grip on the girl loosening. “ Where am I? ” 

[pyrrhicmessiah]

so we’re all on the same page, clarke griffin is NOT over wells jaha’s death. she reminisces on their memories together frequently. losing him was like losing a limb, leaving some phantom echoes behind. sure, at one point she had chosen to cut him off out of anger and hatred, but then she got him back -- and somehow it was even more traumatic to get him back briefly, to realize that she had no reason to hate him, that he had let her hate him so that she wouldn’t hate her mom and then to lose him again. this time it wasn’t her choice. and she regrets every. second. she was furious with him. he was her best friend. she misses him and through s1-4 instinctually has a habit of wanting to tell him something/wishing he were there because for her whole life, he was. it takes more than 200 days to break the kind of bond they had.

[shadowsfell]

@musidex:

Vesper would never say so out loud, but seeing Shadowheart lit by moonlight was a wonder to behold. There was luck in the air - for how else could she be here, with them, in this moment? When the other caught her staring, she simply gave a soft smile. "You're beautiful."

shadowheart had been lost in thought, the fingers of her hand running idly over the wound of its opposite. though she had been aware of vesper's gaze, she hadn't put much stock in it. vesper is no threat to her, and so she has no reason to be completely on her guard. that being said, when vesper's gaze lingers much longer than she anticipates, eventually, she does turn her head and raise an eyebrow in her direction.

the compliment makes them break character. soft laughter, brief and clipped, follows, yet it lacks any genuine coldness.

"i know," they turn their head again, looking away, if only to play the part of disinterested and detached they've come to rely on so well. the truth is, vesper's words instill an unexpected warmth in their chest that they are keen to ignore.

[landcircle]

intimidation check.

lise is shaking with rage -- or, well. they would be, if they weren't so self - controlled. perhaps that is the only thing that she'd learned in duporie that she doesn't wish she'd left behind, with the rigidity of her spine, the way her hands hold one another, how quiet she is for a long moment.

with this composure still intact, she takes a few slow, calculated steps towards the spy from duporie, drawing to her full height as she looks to the captive man. her smile is slow, sharp, her head tilting to the side as blonde hair tumbles to one side. it's only because @musidex and several other members of the court are behind her that she bends down to whisper in the spy's ear instead of speaking aloud -- though the horror on his face as she whispers to him certainly communicates the nature of her words on its own ( nat 20 + 5 = 25 ) .

after a moment, she stands again, still just as stiff and threatening as she had been before, and she nods to the guards to take the man away. the look of fear on his face does not fade. lise watches him go before turning around to face hero, her face settling into a more ordinary warm smile down to them. "sorry you had to see that," she says, voice suddenly light.

[swarmkeep]

The party watched the elves leave, Astarion's hackles up until they were out of sight. Whatever their business was with the Abernant girl, it wasn't good. He'd turned to speak with the others, stopping short when he noticed that very child slinking into camp from a hiding spot in the trees. "Adaine." He rarely called her by her actual name, and the usual, playfully antagonistic tone in his voice was gone. "Tell me, why is the elven council looking for you?"

every single moment of the past half hour has been the worst case scenario. from the second she'd gotten the vision that kir was on her way, adaine had been on high alert -- enough for her to flee and hide in the woods, nearly certain that kir wouldn't cause them harm if she wasn't there to manipulate. but she had forgotten to account for the fact that they may very well sell her out -- why wouldn't they? so she's hearing what she can, braced for the inevitable spell to freeze her and take her back to the last place she wants to be --

but it doesn't happen.

and so she slowly climbs out of the tree she's hidden in, slowly walks back into camp with a few twigs in her hair. her heart is already racing in her ears, and it rapidly worsens the second that @musidex calls her name. that's not how he normally talks to her -- not the tone of voice nor the name. but she walks over to him like a child prepared to be punished -- but isn't that what she is, here? it's hard to catch her breath. "ah -- because they're terrible?" not untrue.

[landcircle]

You're oddly relaxed about your situation.

héloïse sighs gently, propping herself up on her elbows. it's strange, to have @musidex here -- someone her brain associates so strongly with duporie, in her sanctuary of navazyechna -- but she'd . . . missed them, all the same. though, to be fair, she'd missed them when she'd still been in duporie as well, separated as they were from one another since their removal to the cave.

but they don't . . . feel the same way here that she does, which is surreal to her. how can hero be here, same as her, and not realize how much they can breathe here? how safe it feels, not to be constantly watching their words, their step, the way that they stand? or had she lived in duporie . . . wrong?

no -- that, at least, is not true, she knows. she knows from the way she is treated here, how little fear dogs her steps, that she is where she is meant to be. if only she can get hero to see that before they attempt to drag her back. tonight, at least, they seem content to sleep on the floor of her rooms. " that's because i am relaxed. it's good here, hero. "

[pyrrhicmessiah]

Wells vc: happy birthday clarke

birthday wishes!!

clarke vc:    thanks,   wells.

[erchommai-a]

a throbbing clutched at a vein in between his brows. A migraine of sorts. An after-effect, he imagined, from the Warlock’s desperate spell that had brought in front of him a greater demon. A little over thrice his size with venom that had easily burnt and slice through his jacket and shirt to get a bite at him. If it wasn’t so hungry for his blood, he might have taken the time to savor the kill and appreciate it. But he’d only just gotten his body back again for himself, he didn’t want to lose it again all too quickly. 

He turns around, pinching at the bridge of his nose, hoping that would help somehow. Walking towards where he had left the warlock earlier, expecting him either to have bled out or hanging on for dear life when he had stabbed him just before he blew him away with a spell and thrust nearly right into the waiting palms of the demon. But he wasn’t. Instead, a creature. A girl? Someone else stood in their place. 

     “ Is this another trick of yours, Warlock? “   —— @musidex​ / connie .