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And so it ends

Abandoned twice, thrown aside. "Everything you touch blackens." Aethel smiled for a moment, "Yeah. Probably." The sniper headed straight back to the Plaguelands, gun strapped along his shoulder, bolt open as he struggled to replace the round. He knew he was the only one to blame. @pale-revenant ((This would've happened in a few days after returning to SW with Isolde.)) ((Thanks for the wonderful stories. :) Aethel is now being retired. I'll change the Tumblr if I need to later on.))

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

"That's a relative term..." The man would quickly fall back to sleep, however, comforted by the fact he was flanked by his true love. He probably would have another nightmare, but at least he knew someone was there when he woke up. @pale-revenant

Why don't you just stay down?"

“Frankly, greenskin… it’s because I’m quite tired of laying down and taking a beating in hopes to live.”

Aethel awoke with a start, his chest rising unevenly, his fingers curling into the body that lay next to him. His breathing was harsh, eyes squinted.

@pale-revenant

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

Aethel tilted his gaze, emeralds searching the woman's visage quietly. "Yeah. Nightmare, is all." His eyes barely closed as he hummed in thought, adjusting within the bed and curling around his re-discovered love. "Think it's this place. It always gives me nightmares being in a tainted land." His voice was soft; exhaustion in every syllable that dripped from his words. @pale-revenant

Why don't you just stay down?"

“Frankly, greenskin… it’s because I’m quite tired of laying down and taking a beating in hopes to live.”

Aethel awoke with a start, his chest rising unevenly, his fingers curling into the body that lay next to him. His breathing was harsh, eyes squinted.

@pale-revenant

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

Why don't you just stay down?"

"Frankly, greenskin... it's because I'm quite tired of laying down and taking a beating in hopes to live." Aethel awoke with a start, his chest rising unevenly, his fingers curling into the body that lay next to him. His breathing was harsh, eyes squinted. @pale-revenant

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

― caitlyn siehl

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

The sniper grunted, "Alright... come on." He gently curled around the small of her back, lifting her up and gingerly pressing her along his chest as he moved towards their shared bed.

More nightmares to come, but at least they weren't so bad around her.

Probably.

Probably.

Aethel rested along the edge of the bed, his fingers shaking as he stared tiredly out the wide window. The view was amazing; the canals almost perfectly stable aside from the random gentle ripple that pushed through the water.

Another nightmare.

The sniper rose a bit, looking over his shoulder almost guilty before he moved onto the balcony, arms crossing over the railing as he stared out and into the sleepless city.

*Everything you touch will blacken; and everything you enjoy will leave your grasp the moment you have a grip upon it.*

Aethel shook his head, hands shaking as he fought to pull up a cigarette and force it betwixt his lips. The man brought his right index finger up, magical flame lighting the tip gingerly. Smoke lifted from his nostrils, stress visibly leaving his body though not in massively.

*Yeah. Probably.*

The sniper would stand there for the rest of the night.

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

"Mm. No, they never stopped for me." The man tilted his head, eyes sliding closed as his lips tightened. It was obvious how exhausted the man was. He smiled warmly, his palm gingerly brushing along that soft cheek.

"Go to bed, hon."

Probably.

Aethel rested along the edge of the bed, his fingers shaking as he stared tiredly out the wide window. The view was amazing; the canals almost perfectly stable aside from the random gentle ripple that pushed through the water.

Another nightmare.

The sniper rose a bit, looking over his shoulder almost guilty before he moved onto the balcony, arms crossing over the railing as he stared out and into the sleepless city.

*Everything you touch will blacken; and everything you enjoy will leave your grasp the moment you have a grip upon it.*

Aethel shook his head, hands shaking as he fought to pull up a cigarette and force it betwixt his lips. The man brought his right index finger up, magical flame lighting the tip gingerly. Smoke lifted from his nostrils, stress visibly leaving his body though not in massively.

*Yeah. Probably.*

The sniper would stand there for the rest of the night.

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

"Just... some toxic thoughts. It happens." The man chuckled, turning to gently press her along his chest, emerald hues shining gently as he stared happily down at her. "Nightmares as well."

The man barely tilted his head, lifting the cigarette from his lips to gingerly press it between her own, smoke curling around his hand.

Probably.

Aethel rested along the edge of the bed, his fingers shaking as he stared tiredly out the wide window. The view was amazing; the canals almost perfectly stable aside from the random gentle ripple that pushed through the water.

Another nightmare.

The sniper rose a bit, looking over his shoulder almost guilty before he moved onto the balcony, arms crossing over the railing as he stared out and into the sleepless city.

*Everything you touch will blacken; and everything you enjoy will leave your grasp the moment you have a grip upon it.*

Aethel shook his head, hands shaking as he fought to pull up a cigarette and force it betwixt his lips. The man brought his right index finger up, magical flame lighting the tip gingerly. Smoke lifted from his nostrils, stress visibly leaving his body though not in massively.

*Yeah. Probably.*

The sniper would stand there for the rest of the night.

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

The man turned, his gaze tired, the large bags beneath his emerald hues a sure indicator of that. "Hey." He couldn't help but smile, if only a little. "Go to bed, 'Fire. I just needed a smoke."

What a shitty lie.

The man gently brushing his hand through her hair, strands sliding along the curve of his fingers. "Sorry I woke you."

Probably.

Aethel rested along the edge of the bed, his fingers shaking as he stared tiredly out the wide window. The view was amazing; the canals almost perfectly stable aside from the random gentle ripple that pushed through the water.

Another nightmare.

The sniper rose a bit, looking over his shoulder almost guilty before he moved onto the balcony, arms crossing over the railing as he stared out and into the sleepless city.

*Everything you touch will blacken; and everything you enjoy will leave your grasp the moment you have a grip upon it.*

Aethel shook his head, hands shaking as he fought to pull up a cigarette and force it betwixt his lips. The man brought his right index finger up, magical flame lighting the tip gingerly. Smoke lifted from his nostrils, stress visibly leaving his body though not in massively.

*Yeah. Probably.*

The sniper would stand there for the rest of the night.

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

Probably.

Aethel rested along the edge of the bed, his fingers shaking as he stared tiredly out the wide window. The view was amazing; the canals almost perfectly stable aside from the random gentle ripple that pushed through the water. Another nightmare. The sniper rose a bit, looking over his shoulder almost guilty before he moved onto the balcony, arms crossing over the railing as he stared out and into the sleepless city. *Everything you touch will blacken; and everything you enjoy will leave your grasp the moment you have a grip upon it.* Aethel shook his head, hands shaking as he fought to pull up a cigarette and force it betwixt his lips. The man brought his right index finger up, magical flame lighting the tip gingerly. Smoke lifted from his nostrils, stress visibly leaving his body though not in massively. *Yeah. Probably.* The sniper would stand there for the rest of the night.

#Aethel hillbrand

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ARE YOU SAYING AETHEL CANT HAVE NORMAL SOCIAL INTERACTIONS?!))

:P

Unbiased Love.

“Why are you so angry with him?”  Isolde all but whispered this to Harland as she stared up at him with her silver hues. 

“Firstly, he betrayed you. Loyalty is something I hold above so much else and treachery is not something I have ever or will ever tolerate. Especially when it is done at the expense of somebody I hold dear.” With his free hand makes a dismissive gesture - one typical of when the Lord felt annoyed. “Secondly, when he first arrived at the bridge he proceeded to make an ass of himself by falling flat on his face in an attempt to domineer the situation. His perpetual ‘snark’ as they call it infuriates me in a way I cannot truly describe - that sort of person is not a person I like.”

After his rather gentle, at least by Harland standards, rant he looked to Isolde with a bushy brow aloft in a quizzical nature. “Are you not disgusted by his nature? Perhaps I was mistaken in presuming your relationship but I truthfully doubt that. The man replaced you with some oafish blonde cunt. Silly cow leapt atop my back as I battered her little man friend.”

Scassira lifted her gaze as he spoke, listening intently as she finally breathed when he finished. She pulled back some, turning a bit as she brought a hand up to lightly turn him as well to face her more. “I want you to know something, Harland. Aethel never betrayed me. Not once. Not ever. He is the most loyal, most honorable man, I can assure you. Secondly,” she paused, smirking as a soft snort and chuckle escaped her vocals. “…I do not disagree. He did make an ass of himself on the bridge. But he’s overly protective of what he holds dear. He has lived the majority of his life as I had. Alone. Simply alone. He’s never had more than one partner at a time when out on mission- he only knew solitude. You must not fault him for the awakardness and snaky remarks. I fear he does not truly know better for he’s never had the chance to truly shine through and buff those quirks out.”

She tilted her head to the side, the confident Scassira once more shining through the new body. Harland would see it, the solidarity of her words. The serene and even gaze. “And lastly, no. I am not disgusted.. for he never raised a hand to you, Harland. I witnessed that, and yes, it broke my already dead heart within the other realm. He never replaced me, Harland. And let me tell you why. When I died, I felt his soul immediately cry out, reaching for whatever it could grasp to. And the woman, Reurix? She was there for him. They have had history, my dear friend. Professional though it may have been, I could feel both of their souls within the Shadowlands. They were intertwined. While Aethel and I were well in love, we never once had intimate moments of passion or anything of the sort.”

She smiled sadly, her heart clearly still there for him, but she’d never act on it. “Aethel had shown me love. True and unbiased love. Each fault I held. Each scar I owned. He ensured I understood what it was to love. And I can never be disgusted for him for offering me such a thing. I watched the woman leap atop you, yes, but do you know why, Harland? I could feel her disparity radiating off her soul in that moment. She knew that you and Remara had meant a lot to me. She knew that you all had a very fragile line. She was trying to stop it- and.. let us be honest, here. You are like twice her size despite the height she holds. I would have likely done the same,” she smirked, the silver orbs glistening with amusement and adoration for the male before her.

“I am asking you— please, give him a chance.“

@harland-smythe @aworldofcanvas @sutherlandspitfire

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@sutherlandspitfire <3

Reblog if your RP partners don't annoy you with their want to RP and you love them.

@aworldofcanvas ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[aworldofcanvas-blog]

I wasn’t ready for you to go.

The dead iris. That’s what came to mind. The one she gave Scassira long ago. The one that had no doubt wilted with the woman’s death.

After Remara had let Harland go through their portal to their Isles of Blackreach, to Haven, to home, the woman ran past the portal and into Elwynn. Her rage. Her fury, her sorrow. It came out in sobs, her fists struck trees, her Arcane scorched grass, killed earth. Even in her fit of uncontrolled anger where she may finally release how she truly felt, she roared out a cry, loud and pronounced. Remara kicked. Screamed. Cursed the Void that had once had a hold of her beloved friend, Scassira. It was unfair. 

Death? Unfair? It happened. It was how the world worked. You fought to protect what you would, and you put your life on the line. Your life was at risk when you did this. And she took the choice to save the life of another. Someone she loved? Cared for? Or was it Scassira put her life on the line to assure she’d eventually die? Scassira’s life was composed of Void; she was taken as a child and brutally forced into being an assassin for the ones who called their masters the Old. The Gods. Scassira had finally killed her masters. Finally gotten out of a bad relationship. She had just barely let her face feel the genuine light and warmth of the world. And before she had a chance to live it, her life again was taken from her - this time for good. 

Remara’s knees touched the ground as she balled up and pressed her face into the ground, fists curling around blades of grass and she roared into the very earth that allowed it to be her shoulder to cry on. She never got to know the good Scassira. The Scassira she was dying to be friends with, who she wanted to protect. To coddle and love. A person Remara wanted to show the good of the world to. The bliss. She continued. For quite some time. 

She’d eventually find her home, her Haven. Back on the Isles. She didn’t seek out her husband, yet. She sought the basement. Well-decorated with Gilnean wood and banners. The piano sitting towards the back. A song. A song to play. Just perhaps for closure. Perhaps to get the last of the tears out. Scassira, had she ever heard the piano? Remara sat once she managed to close the door. Her fingers began to play the keys, uncaring if anyone came in. She wouldn’t stop. 

But the world would. Just for a few minutes. Just so perhaps somewhere, somehow, she considered the world who didn’t know Scassira may feel a small twinge of mourning for the woman who never got to know the world in return.

@harland-smythe, @danirel-thorson, @sutherlandspitfire, @r-glasford

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Aethel and Reu during the Gilnean Campaign with the 7th. @sutherlandspitfire

#sniper and his spotter #Aethel hillbrand