#valiisthea

[strykingshot]

@valiisthea

Kat grunted as she attempted to push a dumpster under a nearby window into the restaurant. She paused to take off her backpack filled with her usual urban exploration supplies like her flashlight, camcorder and first aid kit. Due to the loud creaking from the dumpster she failed to hear the footsteps approaching her until she felt a hand grab her shoulder and spun her around.

"Hey! What the fu- oh no, not you again!" Kat groaned, recognizing who had just grabbed her.

[ofengineers]

After Joshua and Clive came back, everyone seems to think Dion was dead, including these two. They hadn't found his body, but from the way they described his fall, it seemed obvious. But no, he's here, and Mid is ready to everything in her power to make sure he feels at home here, at the Hideaway.

"Yes, please, let's bring you to Tarja!" she agrees, wrapping an arm around him to help him walk. "Once you're there, I'll get the others. Do you also want me to send a stolas to Sir Terence ? I'm sure he'll want to come!" Well, Dion himself never mentioned Terence to Mid, but she always finds a way to know about the gossips.

@valiisthea | from here !

[lionheartedscout]

[LAST LOOK]: before going into a situation that may result in their death, the sender takes a moment to cup the unaware receiver's face in their hand, just to take a final look of admiration at them before they go. --- Clive 😭

@valiisthea || Clive

Gav felt it in his bones. It was time, and it was to be the last time. As he embraced Clive, he almost didn't let go. He wanted to be surrounded by the warmth, the comfort, the musk... Alas, he knew that Clive had a job to do, and even his trusted scout wouldn't be able to divert him now.

The blond briefly looked away, unable to bear the thought of watching Clive leave. Then he felt a gentle touch upon his cheek and he looked up with bated breath to meet Clive's gaze. Words didn't need to be said in order for Gav to understand. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he allowed himself to place his hand on top of Clive's, to remember its rough yet soothing texture.

"You better come back," he murmured, struggled to keep his voice even. "You bloody hear me..."

[bestboygav]

❀ - Clara

"Random question, but can you regrow an eyeball?

Or do you maybe have a spare?

Asking for a friend."

[ruiination]

@valiisthea wanted a little starter! ( 🎔 )

siiiighs the fact that i want barnabas for dion and barnabas for sleipnir but also i want joshua for jote

"Have you fallen so far?" Barnabas had little interest in the prince. All that mattered was that Mythos could be granted the power of Bahamut. Aside from that, his life had no meaning. Worth as much as an ant beneath the king's boot. "If you have fallen into despair, I can offer you a new purpose. God may be able to save you."

[fllameshield]

Starter | Muse: Sleipnir Harbard

"Poor little dragoon..." That voice echoing in the hall as he came out from the darkness, from who knows where. The next room, most likely. Those cold, pale eyes were gleaming with a kind of mischief to them, and he was enjoying this moment; seeing his surprise, even if it was small and so minute of an expression. The clack of his fine-polished boots on the tiles as he approached, and he wore such a smirk on his face.

"Are you not exhausted from everything? What keeps you up at such an hour like this?"

@valiisthea

[tsckcyomi-archived]

"It feels like I cannot breathe, I --" - terence to dion !!

more injury prompts bc reasons || @valiisthea

He finds Terence behind a tent of their cohort, sitting on the ground with a hand pressed against his chest, wide panicked eyes meeting his own. The mere sight has Dion's heart jump into his throat, and his feet carry him to his love's side within a split second. With a soft thud, he falls to his knees next to him, lips parting to inquire what is wrong. Yet Terence, ever attentive even now, is speaking before he can. Dion cannot determine what the source of his plight is considering he cannot see any wounds and is unaware of any event that might have caused this, but it matters not. He needs Terence to calm down, first.

"Terence." His voice, quiet and commanding, cuts through the air. He looks at him unwavering, ignoring the way his own heart flutters and skips in fear hearing Terence so distressed. But he must remain composed, and so he shall. There is no one but them here, and so Dion allows himself to shift closer to Terence. He rests one hand in his nape, fingers gently carding through the hair there. Dion's voice drops to a murmur, now. "Breathe with me, love. I'm with you."

[shadowsthrall]

@valiisthea / Dion || starter call

Gone is the battle betwixt the maw of the great Bahamut and the thirsty blade of Odin, a hungry thing, eating through armour to the joys of the flesh.

They do not meet in battle this time. They do not meet among the fields drenched in the gore of their effortless hurt. The dreaded abyss did not claim either to drown them in its depth in the name of war, war and feckless conquest. It is a fabricated tale in which Barnabas Tharmr knows mercy; he merely knows that wounded prey is not to be hunted, only taunted.

It is discordant, the sound of silence in itself. He sits across from the Crown Prince, and it is fluid how an emptiness thrums in his veins, gaze narrowed. Dark eyes rove over each corner of his mask, searching for betrayal. It is vile how there is a tug at the corner of his lips.

"Bahamut."

He draws out each syllable of Dion's Eikon with a mocking roll of the tongue.