#notyourchosen

[songandshield]

broken [cornerstone] | orym + cole

[ cont from here with @not-your-chosen 's Cole ]

Orym looked up at the word 'Will'. The emphasis put on it. Maybe this wasn't 'real'. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe Cole was some new manifestation. The fact that he was dying maybe or missing Will.

But if he were, though he suspected he would want to be somewhere as beautiful as this forest, he knew he would be seeing his dead husband. And while Cole was handsome, he wasn't exactly Will's twin.

"I hope you're real. You've been kind to me." Orym took a breath, "You're nice, I want you to be real. I just... I don't know anymore." He leaned back, letting his hands fall flatly against the grass. In their short journey he did this quite a bit. Touching the grass or dirt when they rested, playing with leaves he would pluck from a tree every few feet.

He couldn't help but smile at the flower crown being placed on his head. But it did bring more tears. He couldn't help those either. He remembered him and Will sitting and weaving stems of flowers together, making each other a crown.

Maybe Orym should just embrace it. Reality or not, it was better than the starvation and torture and being force fed healing potions and hardly anything else just to be hurt again. Cole seemed to rarely eat, or at least Orym never saw it, instead Cole provided him with food. There was a town nearby, but Orym didn't think he was ready to venture into it just yet.

[sworntoprotect]

@not-your-chosen || Oryanna

"Cullen." She hummed. They were getting good at this. Every two weeks they would meet in that special location, laze about for a bit. They would play chess or Oryanna would sing folk songs. "Why don't you write your family?" 

"I do write them,” he answered tersely, feeling the comfort of the moment bleed out from the sudden pinprick of her inquiry. His gaze followed the path his fingers ran along blades of dew-slicked grass, before he lifted his head up to meet hers again. “But I cannot divulge too much. The last thing I’d want is for them to fret over me.”

[sworntoprotect]

@not-your-chosen (Oryanna)

A note sat atop the scattered maps and papers on Cullen’s desk. “Wrote you a song but needed accompaniment, meet me at The Herald’s Rest just after closing time - Ory”

When Cullen had entered his office, the note was noticed straight away. He set it aside as he went about his typical duties – soldiers and messengers flying in and out of the heavy wooden doors as sunbeams slowly crossed well-worn floorboards. 

Night settled in quickly after the last orange rays sunk below the mountain range, and if it weren’t for a strong breeze upsetting the papers on his desk, Cullen might’ve clean forgotten about the meeting with Oryanna. When he stepped out of his office and down the stairs towards the tavern, the sky, once dusky, was velvety black. Entering into the tavern, he was greeted by the Inquisitor and the tawny flicker of torchlight. 

“You left a message?” he said in greeting.

[themightyzwei]

@not-your-chosen LIKED for a starter... (And I am up at 3am because of this idea)

The guards threw Caleb to the ground in front of the King, onto his knees. He winced, but managed to stop himself from falling face first into the beautiful tile floor, as they clearly intended by the force they provided. His auburn hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, his temples showing a touch of gray, his beard as well. He was dressed in clothes befitting an excursion of this land, but thought out and even stylish. His hands were chained behind him and there was an arcane collar around his neck. He hadn't bothered to try and pick the lock, guessing that the manacles were also arcanely trapped. But they had additionally stabbed him in the side with a spear and hit him upside the head when first capturing him.

Despite the temple priest's begging and insistence that Caleb had permission to be there. Despite the younger guard's misgivings about the elder guard's actions. It was obvious the elder guard had a personal vendetta against 'grave robbers', though this was hardly the case.

"He was touching a sacred, ancient text, your grace. An outsider." The guard argued, the fire of offense already boiling over. The younger guard stayed silent.

Caleb took a moment, looking up at the King, who even by silent disposition seemed more reasonable. "Your highness, the temple priests had given me pass to do so. I am wearing gloves, which are my own, I intended to treat those texts with the utmost respect. And yes, I am an outsider to your lands, but I am working with the Colbalt Soul. We have been--"

"They've been spying on us. And sending him to steal our sacred books!" The guard had the good sense not to harm Caleb in front of the King, but Caleb could feel the fury radiating off of him. "The Colbalt Soul is riddle with corruption, rotting from the inside. They have been for decades."

"Before, yes, that was the case. And the Cerberus Assembly, I do not deny this. But no longer. I was part of the group that helped root it out." Caleb defended for a moment before turning his main attention back to Sadiha, "Your majesty, keep me in chains if you must, if you do not trust me, but I am injured. And please see to it the temple priests are compensated. Some ...property was damaged in the scuffle."

"He resisted arrest." The elder guard sneered. "Permission to throw him in the dungeon for further questioning, then seeing about the healer, provided his answers are useful."

[cupcakesmuses]

 👀  - to Perrin and Sadiha (( ik this wont be a dirty thought, that man would be perkilated by an ankle showing ))

SEND  👀  FOR  A  DIRTY  THOUGHT  AND / OR  FANTASY  MY  MUSE  HAS  HAD  ABOUT  YOURS !

I don't know if he CAN have dirty thoughts. LOL

Perrin has a fantasy of saving Sadiha from some horrible fate. Something he not only couldn't do for his last romantic partner, but caused.

That using his magic to heal didn't risk random danger. (Technically wild magic sorcerers only roll a 1 on sorcerer spells for Wild Magic to happen but what's the traumatizing fun in that? Also Perrin was cursed by a god, so...)

Maybe even having to save Sadiha from his own parent's cult and making them all see the error of their ways.

The boy just wants to live up to the knighthood Sadiha gave them that he feels completely undeserving of.

@not-your-chosen

[cupcakesmuses]

@not-your-chosen sent for Perrin...

❛  i had a lot of dreams about you recently.  ❜

"Really?" Perrin didn't know what to make of that. His dreams were always... troubling. Rarely were they something to look forward to. Either they made no sense or if they did, they made him sad. Seeing people in them he knew he never would again. Either by death or design. His parents, his old friends. Ris.

"Something good, I hope...?"

Perrin was settling into his life as a knight, Sadiha's knight in their kingdom, and as a paladin. Though he still had no deity to speak of. He was unsure how to go about it. He was waiting to be spoken to. Like Nuitari had once spoken to him, before he was exiled and the dark god abandoned him. That had been a relief, more than anything.

[bookofvesper]

[ cont from here with @not-your-chosen ]

"What? No!" Vesper spoke a little too quickly, placing the book back and giving a short, embarrassed chuckle. Despite the fact that she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She picked another book a random to browse.

"No, I just... I don't know. I got the shivers suddenly, I think. That's all." Vesper shrugged it off. She knew she made a poor friend. She didn't speak much about herself. Or if she did it was rather avoidance based. She liked Saroise, honestly. They both had premature white, they both seemed to be a little more guarded than Vesper thought they ought to be. Or should be.

There was some unspoken connection that kept them orbiting one another. Something Vesper didn't know she could place even if she had all her memories.

"I do need a new journal. Don't let me forget..." Vesper changed the subject.

[songandshield]

rather be dead | orym [bh] + saoirse

[ cont from here with @not-your-chosen 's Saoirse ]

"Okay, hang on..." Imogen stepped infront of Orym, her compassion getting the better of her, but also proving to Orym how much of the leader she really was.

"Don't--" Ashton warned, but Imogen was already walking closer, her hands held up as well giving the impression she was no threat to this girl. Orym heard Aston growl in frustration. He could feel Dorian and Chet's anxiousness over the situation.

"I think you better stay there, Imogen." Chetney spoke seriously and Imogen paused. He knew something the others didn't. He could smell it on the girl. It was similar to Laudna's scent. But... not quite.

"We won't hurt you," Laudna moved next to Imogen and Orym was reluctant to put Seedling away. He merely lowered it and kept a cautious eye on the woman. She had hissed at him.

He knew they were all thinking the same thing: this could be a trap. Despite the tears and the confession.

Imogen took a brief peak into Saoirse's mind, just to be clear on if her tears were genuine or not. What she saw, even in that brief moment made her jaw drop slightly. But she smiled, however chilled she felt, "We're Bell's Hells. We can try and help."