#Kasimir you didn’t have to tell us all that

[vanhelsingapologist]

Kasimir token for my DM. Never smiled a day in his life. Bonus quote below.

#I love when Kasimir gets morally righteous with us #like he didn’t open his very first conversation with the party like we were priests at a confessional #Kasimir you didn’t have to tell us all that #Now it’ll be used to win every argument “haha anyone got a stone for Kasimir to use?” #“heard his aim’s REALLY accurate.” #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dragons art #dnd #dnd art #dnd npc #kasimir velikov #Curse of Strahd #idk who else uses druid Kasimir but if you do… holy shit.

[ofrooks]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝟎𝟕. NURSE ME / KILL ME

a drabble about one character healing another / a drabble about one character killing another — for @kasimirfrei

It feels like a lifetime since she’s been back, but the apartment looks exactly the same as it had since she’d left for the cursed townhouse. A glance at the clock on the wall tells her that there’s still time, so she makes her way to the kitchen and retrieves her tea set from the cupboard. She wonders if he will show up; a wiser man would not, but she has a feeling that he will come—out of curiosity, perhaps, if not sentiment.

The knock on her front door proves her right. She knows even without looking through the peephole that it is Kasimir on the other side, the sound of his knocks—three short raps, nothing more, nothing less—intimately familiar despite the years between now and the last time he’d showed up at her doorstep.

“You’re hurt,” is the first thing she says when she opens the door, reaching a hand up to brush her thumb along the edge of the cut on his brow bone. “Come,” she says, stepping aside to let him in. “I have a first aid kit in here.”

He looks like he wants to say something. She waits. 

In the end, he only offers her a nod in greeting before entering the apartment. How curious. It’s not like him at all to hold his tongue, not when she has given him permission to speak his mind. Not that he needs her permission—hadn’t needed it back when he had still looked to her as his leader, much less now when they stand on equal ground.

“Sit,” she tells him, gesturing to the couch as she makes her way to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. When she returns, she finds him staring at the tea set she had placed on the coffee table. “That was sent to me the year I turned 19. They didn’t leave a name.”

A coming-of-age gift from her biological mother, if she had to wager a guess. Perhaps her way of trying to make up for her failure as a mother, but the lack of a note made it clear that she had no intentions to take on the role still. 

“I can make us some tea later,” she offers as she takes a seat directly on the coffee table and places the first aid kit next to her.

It’s only when she presses a cotton pad doused with antiseptic gently against Kas’ cut that he finally speaks. A soft, imploring, Why?

Why, indeed. Their little sect has been torn apart from the inside out, people they’d known, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with, loved are dead, and yet here she is trying to play house. As if they’re not enemies, as if she hasn’t thought of shoving her fist into his chest and clawing his beating heart out, as if he hasn’t thought to do the same to her. 

A pause, followed by an admission: “I’m tired.” She lifts the cotton, hums softly to herself when she confirms that the cut isn’t as serious as the crusted layer of blood over it had implied. “And I miss you.” He stiffens at her words, but doesn’t pull away. She pretends not to notice.

Silence blankets them again after that, and she makes quick work of cleaning and dressing the cut. Her fingertips linger on the edge of the medical tape before sliding down the side of his face until her palm presses against his jaw. “You said you would love me, even if I hurt you.” He watches her watch him, says nothing about the way her fingers tremble against his skin. “Do your words still count? Do you still love me?”

Pulling her hand back from his face, she places it against his chest instead. She doesn’t need to do this, in order to see what he’s feeling, but the steady, rhythmic pumping under her palm is comforting. His tangled threads are familiar, but for the first time, she dives deeper than she has ever allowed herself to before, searching for that one thread she’s never dared to until now.

It’s there.

He loves her, despite everything. Her foolish brother, her walking heart.

“Tea,” she announces, cradling her hand against her own chest as she stands up. If she could see her own feelings, she knows there would be a thread for him too. She imagines it growing, out of her chest and winding its way around her neck. The truth is this: she loves him, but her love is a noose—if not for herself, then for him.

She retrieves the kettle and a jar of ginger slices soaked in honey from the kitchen, kneeling at the outside edge of the coffee table when she returns. “This is ginger tea,” she says, placing the slices in the pot together with a few teaspoons of loose tea leaves. “It’s good for the stomach.”

Her own way of saying she loves him, too. 

The pot is filled with hot water, and she remains on her knees across from him as she waits for the tea to steep. Neither of them say anything—what is there to say, really? Perhaps she owes him an apology for the knife in his back, but she does not want to ruin this unspoken truce by reminding him of her propensity for monstrous acts.

She pours the tea into the prepared tea cups, nudging both towards Kasimir. A show of trust. He lifts one cup from the tray and places it in front of himself, although he doesn’t take a sip until she does from hers. “It’s good,” he says, and for the first time since he’d stepped foot in her apartment, he finally lets his guard down, tension easing out of his shoulders with every sip of the warm tea. “Thank you.”

A waiting game ensues, one that he is not aware he is a participant of, not until he’s hit by a wave of nausea, his skin starting to burn as his throat closes. He gasps something that might be her name, and she stands, reaching across the coffee table to grasp his hand. The cup of tea that had been in his hand shatters at his feet, but the warmth of it lingers on his fingers. She tugs his hand away from where he’s wrapped it around his own neck, keeping him from trying to tear his throat out. 

“It was always going to come down to this.” Pain radiates from her fingers as they’re crushed by the strength of a dying man’s grip, but she doesn’t pull away. “I love you, Kas, but either one of us was going to die today, I made sure of it. The choice was yours.”

“You chose wrong.”

#ask meme. #kasimir tag. #death tw #murder tw #so this got away from me

[generic-cleric]

Session 43

Session doc

Session folder

May contain spoilers for the dnd campaign Curse of Strahd, read at your own risk!

Ghostbusters

We begin in the study. There is a lot of table talk about what the next move is. Bedlam is hoping that they can use the lightning rail carriage to zip around barovia to do some tasks really quick. They consider whether or not they should start working on the ritual to cure Vondal and Ireena’s lycanthropy. They decide to take the conversation to the comfort of the guest lounge.

Bedlam took some time to attune the very cool lute Veledrel had found. He decided to name it Dorfinya. Okrin handed off the newly acquired glowing sword to Ireena. They check on Jander’s status and find he’s still resting. Kasimir is lounging and reading. 

Bedlam steps out into the portrait hall and calls for Helga who eerily appears out of the shadows of the stairwell. He asks her if it would be okay if they used the carriage to run some errands, to which she tells him “No.” He asks if there are any Vistani staying here in the castle and Helga explains that “Ms Ludmilla is the only Vistana staying in the castle currently.” He asks if he might be able to speak to Ludmilla, and she tells him “No, she and the others are resting right now, and I would really rather not wake them. You can find her reading in the King’s Hall after sundown.” Bedlam, irritated that the interaction didn’t go as planned, asks for some food. She tells him she’ll send some up. Not long after, several unseen servants bring silver platters of warm, delicious, meats, cheeses, and breads. After their meal, they decided to go back to the crypts to investigate Piddlwick’s crypt, and well, the rest of them.

They made their way back into the dungeon. A series of rolls were made to avoid the traps in the hallway. Bedlam and Veledrel failed the first round and were teleported into a prison cell. Bedlam was able to pick the lock and release them. On the second round of rolls, Veledrel and Ireena failed and were teleported into cells, which Bedlam was kind enough to release them from.

They notice that all the doors are once again locked. They weigh the pros and cons of this: on one hand, maybe that covers their tracks, on the other, they sure hated this song and dance.

They made their way through the torture chamber again and into the room behind the curtain containing the brazier with colorful stones.

They unlock the door to the long, dark hallway and cautiously make their way to the end, rolling perception frequently since they are expecting the chute trap to have reset. They were correct, though they were able to locate it before falling victim to it.

They spill out of the tunnel into the familiar catacombs. They want to explore as many crypts as possible, though they know that sundown will be upon them soon. They want to speak with each of the brides, hoping that they each might have a request for the party. They are very keen to attend whatever Anastrasya has going on in the Audience Hall. The party was also very concerned about getting caught where they shouldn’t be. They know they’ve been very fortunate thus far, and aren’t sure when to stop pushing their luck. We decide what time it is in-game and that each crypt will take 30 minutes to explore for the sake of tracking time. They get to it.

They start off with the ones that stuck out to them. Piddlewick’s crypt revealed a deck of illusions. The party also wanted to visit the crypt that housed the remains of a Barovian Navy Admiral. Inside that one, they found a boat, taking up so much space that it was lodged in the room at a diagonal. The remains were resting in the boat. There was little of value in this crypt, other than the laughs we had imagining the boat jammed into that small space.

They found paints and brushes, a whole bunch of antiques (hilarious considering one of my players used to work in an antique store), and wine bottles.

They removed the heavy stone slab of one of the crypts and found the wild looking ghost of a large man with some kind of wing contraption on his back. Okrin and Vondal moved the slab back in an effort to avoid conflict. The spirit phased through the wall and disappeared right before their eyes as it possessed Vondal. 

I messaged Vondal’s player, telling him that the ghost possessing him want to run up the nearby stairs to the peak of the tower and throw himself off in an attempt to fly. I showed him where on the map he was and where he was trying to get to. The player thought it was really funny and said that if this was how he was gonna die, he was more than fine with that.

Vondal made an attempt to run. Okrin and Bedlam see this and try to trip him to knock him prone. They roll and succeed. They move on to the next crypt as Vondal picks himself up and bolts away from the group.

Okrin tries to grapple him but Vondal is able to avoid it. He uses the dash action to get as far away as possible. Bedlam asks Sergei the parameters of ghostly possession. He finds out that they don’t have the appropriate spells to evict the ghost, so they just have to use brute force to drop Vondal to 0 hp. He starts slinging spells. Veledrel readies an action and Ireena runs to try and catch up to Vondal. A mist begins coalescing on the ground near the party, making them all nervous.

There is a lot of talk out of character and speculation as to what is happening, or what is trying to happen. Vondal’s player won’t tell the group until the issue is resolved, so all they can really do is guess. They suspect that the ghost is going to explode Vondal like a Left 4 Dead Boomer. We all laughed at the thought of them trying to explain to Strahd why everyone was crying and covered in Vondal bits.

Okrin throws his spear, and it lands in the ground before Vondal, the ensnaring strike splintering from it and incapacitating him. While he is trapped, they all take turns hacking away at his health. He breaks free the next round and once again, bolts toward the staircase. They lob ranged attacks. The mist at their feet forms into a golden wolf they recognize as Jander and he dashes within reach of Vondal. They hurl a slew of attacks at Vondal until they nonlethally knock him to 0 hit points.

It is now at this point that the ghost is ejected from Vondal’s body. They focus their attacks on the spirit, and Veledrel ends up finishing off its last 35 hit points with a delicious 38 damage from his scorching ray. As soon as the ghost disintegrates, everyone is utilizing every healing spell available to get Vondal some hp. Before too long they get him back on his feet and they make the decision to press on.

The next crypt belonged to Lady Ilona, who they recognized from the Tome. They removed the slab and found a single thigh bone resting on the marble slab inside. There was a lot of discussion about what to do. Since it was just the thigh bone, they probably wouldn’t be able to bring her back, nor would they be able to use Speak with Dead on her. Bedlam ultimately decided to go for it and take the bone. He reasoned that it seems like a lot of the people here in these crypts don’t actually want to be here.

As he entered the crypt, he was hit with three poison darts. This guy and poison darts, I swear. After calculating a ridiculous amount of damage, Bedlam is still standing. He goes to take the bone and he is visited by a vision of Lady Ilona who tells him that whoever can best her in battle may use her as a weapon against the vampire.

I explain to them that this is a 1v1 encounter and that it doesn’t have to happen right now. So Bedlam passed the bone over to Vondal and told him he could do that whenever he felt like it.

We decided that would be a good place to end the session for the night!

#dm #dnd #dndiary #session summary #session write up #session recap #curse of strahd

[claytonsguardianangel]

I rub his back the entire time and when I’m sure he’s asleep, start whispering to him as quietly as possible, “I’m so sorry, Kaz.” I pull back just enough to see his face and run my finger down his nose, “so sorry you married us. I wish you had found a normal Mando woman to make you a normal Mando family with lots of babies,” I brush my fingers along his cheek.

“I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye.” I cup his face, “I hope your heart heals and you feel love every day of your life. My soul is yours, for now and for forever. I love you with everything I have, my sweet king.” I lean forward and give his lips a soft kiss before slipping out of bed.

I leave my robe folded on his favorite arm chair- where he once sat with me in his lap for hours. Where Anakin would sit on the arm and show us the droid he was working on.

I look around at the slightly blue room as the sun begins to rise and disappear out the window, heading straight for the outer rim.

Two weeks pass and no sign of Vader even pops up on Kaz’s radar. In fact, since he half expected Vader to show up the second you left, Kaz starts to get comfortable again. He goes about every day as he would any other, carrying out his tasks and duties to the best of his ability. All the while, still feeling so empty. So cold. The only thing that really keeps him going anymore is the hope of seeing you at the end of the month. 

One night, Kaz gets home particularly later than normal, slowly shuffling into his quarters after a long day of meeting with the citizens of Mandalore. He’s not… physically tired, necessarily. Just incredibly exhausted mentally. Having to be ‘on’ for so many people for so long, when you yourself feel like a walking corpse… Kaz would tell the next ruler it’s not so easy. 

The next ruler would be Pre, he’s decided. Pre deserves it. And when he leaves with you in a few weeks, he’ll hand over the saber and the title, and say his goodbyes-

“You look horrible,” Vader drawls from his couch, laughing lowly as Kaz flicks a light on and activates his saber. 

Kaz’s eyes widen as he beholds the man he spent so long admiring now sitting in his living room, so similar yet so different all at once. That smirk, it’s sharper now. And his eyes… what happened to the blues of his eyes? They’re so gold now. Gold and… evil. 

“What have you done?” Kaz breathes, tearing up as he shakes his head, “What- Who are you?” 

Vader tilts his head. “Don’t you know, dear husband of mine? It’s me,” he coos, giving him a sharp grin, “Just… mm… better.” 

“You are not my husband,” Kaz grits out. “You couldn’t be- not after what you’ve done.” 

Vader hums. The manipulative way, then. He gets up and slowly walks over, freezing Kaz in the Force as he nears. “Ah ah- don’t struggle. Think wisely.” He clicks his tongue as he studies Kaz, circling him. “Hm- that’s interesting. You’re thinking of quitting your day job?” 

“Get out of my head.” Kaz growls, “You don’t deserve to be there anymore.” 

“It’s alright, I’ve seen enough anyway,” he shrugs, “You’re coming home with me.” 

“I will never-” 

Vader steps forward so he’s practically touching noses with Kaz. “You will come home with me,” his eyes flash, “or I will bring every single member of House Fett into these quarters and kill them where they stand. All for you.” 

Tears fall down Kaz’s cheeks and he shakes his head, “You’re sick,” he whispers. “You’re a sick bastard.” 

“Tell me, Kasimir,” Vader smiles softly, studying Kaz’s features as he takes the darksaber and deactivates it. He switches his tone to a sensuous yet soothing purr, ever the portrait of understanding. “How did you feel when your mother died?” 

Kaz’s breath hitches and he blinks back his shock. “I- we’ve talked about this. I spoke about this with Anakin-” 

Vader reaches out, gripping Kaz’s jaw hard enough to leave a handprint on either side. “That name. No longer exists.” 

“Hence my past tense,” Kaz hisses, sneering a little as Vader lets go of his jaw. “I don’t wish to speak about it with you.” 

Vader shakes his head. “Here’s the thing, Kaz. You and I are quite similar, if you think about it. Our mothers died… we got our reve- oh wait! You didn’t get your revenge, did you?” He hums, grinning at the way Kaz starts to cry harder. 

All throughout the conversation, he sends his presence through Kaz’s own smaller one, deciding that maybe Kaz needs… a little Force boost. “You want that revenge, don’t you, Kasimir? Sweet, innocent Kasimir, who was held to the floor, forced to watch his mother bleed to death and choke on her own blood?” 

“M-My f- My father killed them,” Kaz whispers, “and he s-saved me.” 

“But not your real father. I wonder- how much of that violent birth father lives in you? I've seen it before... but what if we could even... heighten it further?"

Kaz shakes his head, starting to hear voices that were never there before. Whispers of his mother, his birth father… and a sweeter, more soothing voice. 

Kasimir, sweet Kasimir, it echoes Vader’s earlier phrase, you were born for much more than to rule a simple planet. Take Vader’s hand- Anakin’s hand- be the partner he needs you to be. The two of you could have it all. How wonderful would it be to visit the place your mother died, to exact revenge on the children of those who killed her? Of those who strangled you and your brother? After all, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children...

And what of Lili? Your wife left you. She left you here, to sit all alone and simply wait for your ‘big bad husband’ to return. Don’t you want her with you, now that all three of you can be together? Don’t you remember the night you two shared, how good it made you feel? Don’t you want more of that? 

Ohh and many more enemies you have, King of Mandalore. You have been a kind King, but not a merciful one. There is a target on your back- I can help you with that… 

“I don’t want help,” Kaz murmurs, shaking his head faster, “Vader- stop- stop this- get out of my head.” 

Vader rolls his eyes and, out of pure boredom, quickly shoves the remainder of the strength reserve he had set aside for Kaz into his husband’s presence as he unfreezes the Force hold on Kaz. He tries to fight it, but Vader’s power, combined with the natural strength of the Force against his weaker mind, overwhelm him within a mere few seconds. 

Kaz groans and drops to his knees, his hands trembling as he tries to hold himself up as much as he can while the Force absolutely rips through his body. Everything becomes so loud, so painful- the air around him and the space in his mind reeks of the grief of all the Jedi. 

But even more so is the intimidating power of Vader directly by his side, threatening to suffocate him over the slightest misstep. 

“You will join me, Kasimir,” Vader says lowly, “You will be Emperor. And together… we will find Lili. And we will bring her home where she belongs. For now I’m going to keep you on a bit of a leash- the gods only know what you’re capable of- ah, there’s the gold in your eyes,” he hums as Kaz looks up at him, “but I prefer the brown.” He waves his hand, making Kaz’s eyes return to normal. “Much more handsome.” 

He takes the darksaber and lays it on the counter as Kaz rises to his feet, floating a paper pad and a pen over as well. “Sit. Write your letters. Tell your family goodbye. We will see them soon, but first I must school you on proper Sith etiquette. I can’t have you embarrassing me.” 

“What- what have you done to me?” Kaz asks hoarsely, staring at his palms, his arms, his whole body that now feels… immortal. Beyond the reasonable strength of man. “This power… this power is-” 

“Wonderful?” 

Wonderful doesn't quite describe it. It's like... the very parts of him he hated most are now loved, appreciated. Seen. And every violent thought he ever had and instantly regretted, suddenly they don't seem so bad. He's Kasimir Stormbreaker. He doesn't need to explain himself to anyone. And while he couldn't do everything he wanted to do before, he certainly can now, with Vader granting him that freedom.

He could level cities with the power he now has. He could show people what it's truly like to experience the sort of loss that he did. That you did when your family was slaughtered.

“Horrifying,” Kaz corrects, the darkness quickly wrapping the last bit of itself around his mind, his lips twitching up into a smirk. “And yet… liberating.” 

“There it is,” Vader smirks. “You will be my fancy little killing machine before this is all over. I just know it.” 

Kaz sits at the counter and quickly begins writing, leaving a letter for his entire family- and a separate one for Pre, along with a formal written statement that he is stepping down as King and will be handing over the title, along with the saber, to Pre Vizsla, rightful heir. 

It only takes Kaz an hour or two to pack what he truly wishes to take, riding on Vader’s promise that he’ll have copious amounts of whatever he wants once they reach the Palace. Even a lightsaber, apparently. 

The news reaches every holo channel in less than a week, with recorded reports showing surveillance and other videos submitted by citizens of a Mandalorian - formerly the King of Mandalore - ripping through the town of his home planet in all black armor with the same color of blue for the accents. And in his hand, no longer the darksaber, but an elegant, white lightsaber of his own, crafted in just a few days’ time. 

Whenever they’re not destroying the countless lives of those who have wronged them somehow in previous years, Kaz and Vader search every corner of the galaxy for you, even in the most unlikely of places. 

Until one day, about two months after Kaz first left Mandalore to live in the palace, the two of them pick up on your Force presence. You had helped a little girl earlier in the day after she nearly fell of a cliff, and, just as Vader said, the Jedi always seem to get themselves in trouble with their compassion. 

They follow the presence all the way back to a home outside the village lines, barren of decor and appearing to be abandoned. 

“That’s where she’ll be,” Vader purrs, sauntering toward the door with Kaz at his side, helmetless. 

Amazingly enough, this new version of his husband even decided to abandon his Mandalorian principles for once. Now he’s just a psychotic, manic serial killer he happened to set on the loose. 

Oops. 

He walks right up to your door, humming before knocking. 

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Paxton's dad finds out that he is a pet.

So Paxton’s dad learns what happened to his son. Paxton is 19 when this takes place. 

Taglist: @ashintheairlikesnow @vickytokio @thefancydoughnut @finder-of-rings @orchidscript @morelikepainsley @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @wolfeyedwitch @haro-whumps

CW: Homophobic insults, homophobic father, parental abuse, 

„Iwan, hey man, it's your turn.“

Iwan Bednarek startled out of his sleep deprived stupor. The gray food tray fell out of his hands, landing on the cafeteria counter with a loud clatter. The thin plucked brows of the service woman behind it rose, blue eyes narrowing in disapproval. 

“Sorry. A bit overworked.“ Iwan forced a smile and got a flat, “sure, honey. Aren’t we all,“ in turn, alongside a plate of chili con carne and a sad, slightly dried out piece of bread. Shooting him a questioning look, his coworker followed him to an empty table. They barely sat down when Miguel opened his mouth. „You came back from vacation only last week man. Real talk, what’s going on?“

‘Nothing’, sat on the tip of Iwan's tongue but his resolve to continue business as usual crumbled under the honest concern of his longtime colleague, or, dare he even say friend. 

„My son.“ He blurted out, mind racing a mile a minute and still lagging behind his mouth. Where was he even supposed to start? All his hunger gone, Iwan pushed the plate aside as if it had made him sick, instead of the last argument he had with his son. His own words from four days ago sat heavy in his stomach, their weight growing with every passing day. His knuckles still hurt on the right hand, their thin skin scabbed.

It’s not that he had been wrong but- His wife was right, he shouldn’t have lost his composure like that. 

Iwan swallowed. Tried again. „My son went missing.“

Miguel's eyes grew wide in his narrow face, showing just how much younger he was compared to Iwan himself. „Shit man. Do you know- I mean did someone, ya know?“

Iwan shook his head at Miguels vague hand gesture. „No one kidnapped him, I don’t think. We had-“ He inhaled. Deep. „-an argument. It got very… heated. You know how it is. A good father has to be strict. And with a son like him even more so.“

„What do you mean?“

Iwan shifted under Miguel's innocent concern. It wasn’t his style to wash his family's dirty laundry in public but he really needed to talk to someone who wasn’t his crying, worry ridden wife. Besides, worse things have been discussed in a WRU lunch room. Still, his handler uniform stuck to his back as Iwan glanced around the hall, ensuring no one else was in ear shot. 

„He has certain tastes I can not abide. Not as a good Christian.“

„So he’s gay?“

„Not so loud.“

Miguel almost laughed, souring Ivan's already bad mood even further.  

„So what man? There are gay priests for gods sake. No one would chase your son out of a church just cause he like sausages instead of-“

„It’s not just that!“ Iwan burst out, face heating in anger. „And don’t talk this vulgarly about my son.“

He glared down at Miguel from where he had sprung to his feet. Fists pressed into the table. They ached where his knuckles had split under his temper and against his son's face. 

 „Okay. I’m sorry, Iwan. Okay? C‘mon man, the lunch lady’s glaring at us. Sit down.“

Nostrils flaring, Iwan let himself fall back into the creaky plastic chair. 

„So you guys had a fight and he ran off? Right?“

Iwan gave a tight nod, eliciting an almost impish smile from Miguel. 

„I did that too as a kid. My old man was strict jus‘ like you, but tell you what, I still loved that old geezer. Always ended up back home. I‘m sure your son’ll show up again. Give him time to cool off.“

Memories of the evening they had gotten back from the airport flashed through Iwan's mind. How Kasimir had heaved the suitcases up the stairs to their house, phone falling out of his pocket as he worked. How Iwan had picked it off the sidewalk, discovering it unlocked from the fall. He didn’t mean to snoop but his son had his nose buried in that thing the entire ride home. It had driven Iwan nuts. 

But not half as nuts as the things he found on that phone. 

Iwan didn’t remember how he had gotten up the stairs and into Kasimirs room. One moment, he stood on the porch, sun burning down his neck when in the next he was in front of his son, fist bashing into his cheek. 

„I doubt that ‘cooling off’ will be enough. Kasimir is a whimpy boy, always has been, for him to dare run off. I- I don’t know. I tried to be a good father but-,“ Iwan glared holes into the cafeteria table, voice rough. „I overstepped. What? What is that look for now?“

„Nothing.“ Miguel busied himself with the chili, picking his bread apart to pepper it over his plate. „S just not like you to, ya know?“ Another vague hand gesture. „Admit when you're wrong?“

„Because I seldomly am.“ 

The bushy raised eyebrows in Miguel's face suggested otherwise, but Iwan didn‘t get the chance to argue. A brash voice cut through the dining hall. Their superior stared at them from the entrance, signaling them to cut their dinner short with an impatient wave. 

Perfect.

„Move it Bednarek, we need you in sector D. You too, Hernandez. Miller's new trainee is finally wiped, but he called in sick. You gotta cover for him.“

„Millers?“ Iwan’s fingers curled into fists. „Sir you know I do not train romantics.“

„You don’t have to train him. Only put him in his cell. All the data is on Hernandez's phone. We woulda have needed the drip room empty two hours ago.“

Knowing his superior's temper was shorter even than the man himself, Iwan turned on his heel and hastened down the hallway without another word. A curt nod the only goodbye spared. 

„Hey, man.“ Miguel's footsteps behind him picked up speed. „Wait.“

Annoyance pulsed behind Iwan’s eyes in the form of a growing headache.  

Goddamn sluts were nothing but trouble! At least they fetched the company enough money to cover his dental.

Ready to punch the key code in, the silently fuming Iwan was held back by Miguel, who quickly stepped between him and the door. 

„Why don’t you let me handle this today?  Hey man, don‘t gimme that look. I know you're the best handler of the domestic division ‘n all but with romantics- stuffs a lil different. Especially at the beginning. We want them to trust us, alright? And with your mood-“

„What’s with it?“ Iwan barked, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth to confirm Miguel's point. Crossing his arms Iwan stepped further back from the door, glaring a hole into the white concrete wall next to Miguel's smugly smiling face. „Fine. The pet is all yours.“

Miguel turned, typing the passcode in with one finger and a „thanks man,“ so gentle it had Iwans hackles rise. There was no reason to put kids gloves on around him, he was just worried about his stupid good for nothing son, for heavens sake, its not like anyone died. If he hadn’t felt fit for work he would have stayed home. 

A wave of cool air wafted into the corridor as the door opened with its familiar ‘click fssshhh‘, a sound so ingrained into Iwan's life he heard it in his dreams sometimes.

Shielding his hands from the cold by sticking them into his pockets, Iwan followed Miguel into the room, contemplating if he should go and retrieve his leather gloves from the car later. He scanned the room on routined instinct, the white clean tiles, the drip already removed from the pet's wrist, disposable parts neatly stored in a small plastic bag hanging from the stand and ready to be collected by the cleaners. Iwan paid more attention to his colleague than the pet, its long limbs curled around a shivering, hunched body. A tuft of black unruly hair was nearly hidden behind pale arms. 

„Rise and shine 626.“ Miguel beamed, all cheerful hospitality. Iwan never understood why some of his colleagues bothered if they had to round them up later on anyway. There was no place for kindness in training. Bright smiles and gentle touches were unwelcome visitors, spoiling the merchandise and making the training process harder on anyone. „You're gonna get your very own room today. Are you excited?“

„Yes, Sir.“

Iwan froze. Hands turning to ice blocks in his pockets.  

That voice.

Warm and quiet and still shedding the squeakiness of puberty. 

He would recognize that voice among a choir of thousands. He knew what it sounded like laughing, or crying, or asking for ice cream on a blistering summer day. He knew how it had turned to raged sobs during their last fight. How it had broken. He knew how that voice sounded begging for forgiveness, babbling ‘please, I can explain. Please papa!’

Slowly, Iwan turned. Numb body moving against his will. A bead of icy sweat trickled down his arm. His uniform stuck to his back, his neck. 

Their fight played through his head, a broken record on loop. 

You aren’t my son! I didnt raise a faggot! My son wouldn’t ever look at this sado-maso filth! That’s for pets! Not people! Aren’t you a person? Don’t you have dignity?! 

“Kasimir.” It was barely a whisper, dry lips parting around a name his son couldn’t remember any longer. 

His son's gray eyes, still hazy from the drip, blinked up at Iwan's colleague, utterly oblivious to his own fathers presence. His existence. The limbs of Kasimir’s lanky body stuck out from his oversized trainee uniform, making him look like one of the art dolls Iwan's sister collected. There was an angry greenish bruise blooming in his pale sweaty face, a few bandages plastered over a split lip, a lacerated cheek. 

Iwan's heart dropped, turning into a dead stone somewhere in his rioting guts. 

Have I- 

He never meant to hit this hard. 

Proszę, wybacz mi

Had his son fled to wru, crying and bleeding, only to get patched up and lured in with promises of a better life? Where you scared? As you signed? As the drip erased you? Did it hurt? Did they hurt y-

“There you go.” Miguel unclipped the security leash from a hock in the wall and helped Kasimir stand on wobbly legs. “Good boy. We’re gonna go and hit the showers first. Getting you nice and clean before training starts. Doesn't that sound good 626?” 

Iwan's heart kicked into a rapid fire frenzy, beating so hard every pulse echoed through his skull. The ice in his hands was replaced by liquid fire. His blood boiled him from the inside out. It was too hot. The room blurred around him. 

„Don‘t call him that!” His own shouts cut through his dizzy haze, small and distant, as if coming from above water. There was water in his eyes. He couldn’t see.  “Don’t you dare call him by a number! His name is Kasimir. My Kasimir. My little boy.“

Miguel's lips moved, forming words Iwan didn’t hear, talking to him, speaking into his phone. Wide eyed. Arms wrapped around him, holding on tight. Holding him in place. Preventing him from going to his son, cowering in a corner and staring at him.. Iwan struggled. There were handlers storming into the room, taking Kasimir away. 

His Kasimir. His baby boy. “What have I done? What have I done?”

#whump #pet whump #boxboy #boxboys #box boy #box boys #box boy universe #boxboy whump #box boy whump #bbu #parental abuse #homophobia #emotional whump #facility whump #whump writing #pet whumpee #angst #paxton and amal #paxton #his father fucked up soooo bad #homophobic slurs

[walkingshcdow]

@thelostbarovianroyals | plotted starter | Rahadin/Scout

It was a failsafe plan, if you asked Strahd. The king of Barovia had promised the Dusk Elves’ Mage King to broker a marriage between High Mage Kasimir’s daughter, Kseniya, and one of the von Zarovich brothers. There were enough to choose from. The king himself had yet to take a bride, though many doubted he would since the High Mage’s sister had attempted to assassinate him on their wedding night, sparking this godsdamned war in the first place. Sturm was yet unmarried, but promised to an allied kingdom. Sergei, fresh-faced was young but not out of the question.

People often forgot Rahadin. Who would assume that the adopted, Elven son who had been banished by Kasimir decades ago would be exactly the pawn Strahd would use? 

What Strahd didn’t know was how desperately Rahadin had looked forward to this union. He had a habit of stoicism, but Rahadin’s insides flipped with joy.

“The boy is in love,” Lord Gwylim remarked upon watching Rahadin ready for his wedding. “Strahd, even you can’t ignore-”

Lord Gwylim was probably the only person who remembered how a teenaged Rahadin had snuck off to the homeland he’d left, that he warred with, to visit the Seladrine temple and to meet with his sweetheart. He called her “Scout”, as did her brother, and anyone she called a friend, but she was Kseniya, Daughter of High Mage Kasimir and High Priestess Anya. They would kiss and lay together under the domed ceiling at night and talk of their dreams for when their countries were no longer at war. Sunrise often found them entangled on the floor. And then duty called Rahadin to Ravenloft. The war was over. The casualties were high on both sides - higher on the Elven side - and now they all wanted peace. What better way to get it than to marry two childhood sweethearts? Even if one of them was an Elven exile for having killed their last king. 

Now that the ceremony, buzzing with tense murmuring, was over and the spectacle done, Duke and Duchess von Zarovich laid together in their bed at Ravenloft, sunlight trickling through the window. Rahadin ghosted his fingers down Scout’s bare sides and she squirmed in her half-trance. 

“Strahd thinks he got one over on your father,” he said. “But I think you and I tricked them all, my lady, your highness, my love. Please tell me you weren’t hoping I’d be one of my brothers...” 

#thelostbarovianroyals #.006 | au #ch: rahadin #r: rahadin x scout #thread: rahadin & scout #((I'll probably make a starter that's more in line with our silliness but I needed to establish the au))

[lnabsolutes]

( max riemelt / 37 / he / his ) – ( kasimir janson ) has been spotted in ravenswood. they said to originally be from ( dresden, germany ) and used to work as ( firefighter ). they’ve been in the compound for ( seven months ), working as ( patrol ) to earn their keep and since then, others have seen their ( apathetic ) but seemingly ( resilient ) nature.

name: kasimir janson. age/dob: 37 / mar 17. occupation: patrol, night ( presently ). firefighter ( formerly ). sexuality: heteromantic heterosexual. nationality: german. languages spoken: german, english. hair color: blond. eye color: blue. height: 5′11″. build: athletic - muscular.

born in dresden, germany. kas will be the first to tell you that his life has never been particularly spectacular. though he’ll also tell you that it’s none of your business. the past doesn’t matter anymore, especially since the world ended.

describing him as the class-clown wouldn’t be accurate ---his humor was never so blunt and obnoxious, but his personality didn’t change much after the virus his. his defense mechanism just became more of his dry sarcasm. it made him something of an unknown when he was growing up ---it was hard to tell if he was serious or not in almost every situation.

trained to become a firefighter after he left school. he loved it, actively working until two weeks before the virus outbreak.

he was in the states with his girlfriend, on vacation. they’d planned a trip to sight-see, and were caught in new york at the time of lockdowns. everything went catastrophically poorly in such a large state, specifically in the city. unfortunately his girlfriend did not make it out.

kasimir initially found himself working with a small group of survivors from the city. they planned to make a route into the mountains and hole themselves up there, however the general inexperience of the group as a whole proved to be too large of a deficit. while they did make it toward the appalachian mountains their supplies were dwindling and the density of walkers in the forest was much greater than they had perceived.

kas broke away from the group in the middle of the night, before the infighting really set in. his typically apathetic nature rubbed a few of the survivors the wrong way, he had no desire to die with them or by their hand because he refused to express his grief outwardly.

he only arrived in ravenswood seven months ago, and he keeps his stories of survival between the outbreak and now relatively quiet. while he’s nowhere near the most antisocial person in the compound ( cooper ), he doesn’t quite see the point in sharing stories like that outwardly. after all ---what they were before didn’t matter.

other facts.

prefers the night shift for patrol. he argues he operates better at night.

always has a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, like he knows the deepest secrets of the universe, and you don’t.

very apathetic, outwardly. it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care as a whole, it’s just not your business to see him go through those emotions.

has a heavy german accent. his english is pretty great ( learned in school ) but not perfect.

very dry sarcastic sense of humor. the kind of man that would call a walker “a beaut” or “a great catch” as they broke through the treeline.

has 0 qualms with a violent solution.

is was fucking more resourceful than he appears. but he’ll let you believe he’s just a grinning fool.

finds authority hilarious. but he won’t laugh in authority’s face.

#harvesthq:intro #i. everybody knows how your garden's growing tonight.

[a-casual-egg]

Now Edvard knows Barnaby has a caring side. They all do. He knows Kasimir deeply cares for the crew, he knows Zillah would beat the shit out of anyone who messed with them and Lilith would compel ghosts to haunt the people who wronged them. He would certainly inconvenience anyone who gave the others problems. But this wasn’t what he expected.

He didn’t expect Astor to flinch when he sees him or try to hide his fear but somewhat fail. The only reason he knows it was Barnaby is Astor saying he doesn’t want any trouble with the Fortescues. So now he’s practically stomping his way over to Eleanor’s Largely Legal Antiques, wondering what dirt Barnaby has on Astor and if he could do this to anyone he asked.

Barnaby and Kasimir are standing around the table as Edvard slams open the door.

“Fortescue! What trouble would that man be in?!”

“What?”

“Astor said he doesn’t want any trouble with the Fortescues. What does that mean? What did you do?”

“Extortion, or as you commoners call it, black mail.” Barnaby responds

Edvard looks over at Kasimir who mouths, “the his majesty nickname went to his head.”

“What’d you have on that fraud? What’s the dirt?”

“Well,” Barnaby places his hands together, “You know that’s not a thing to discuss right now.”

Edvard slams his fist on the table in annoyance. “I wanna know!”

“Calm down, Edvard. I’m sure he’ll tell you isn’t that right, your majesty?”, Kasimir reassures

Barnaby smiles at the nickname then smiles his trademark smug rich guy smile at Edvard and says, “yes, that’s exactly right.”

Lilith pushes open the door, “We’re back!”

Zillah follows Lilith through the door with something tucked under her arm. Barnaby raises an eyebrow at the package and Zillah catches him looking.

“Ah, Barney! While we were there I picked up some of the strong stuff I know you like!”

“Thank you, Zillah. You really shouldn’t have.” Barnaby says as he takes the bottle from Zillah’s hand.

“Well, you’re gonna need it. It’ll help you fall asleep, yknow how you’ve been having trouble falling asleep cuz you’ve been lying awake thinking about Ed-“ Zillah starts but is cut off by Kasimir coughing.

“Are you alright, Pops?” Zillah asks

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you, Pythons.” Kasimir clasps his hands together, “So tell us about the score.”

Lilith and Zillah talk all about their heist, but Edvard can’t focus on it, his mind keeps reminding him that Barnaby lies awake at night thinking of Ed, whoever that is.

“So, any questions?” Lilith asks

“Yes, actually, Barnaby who’s Ed?”

“Uhhhhh” Barnaby starts feeling his face heat up.

“His butler! Edwin!” Kasimir pipes up

Barnaby’s expression returns to his normal calm and smug look, “yes, he’s getting quite old and to put it simply I’m worried for his health.”

“Well, that’s very nice of you.” Edvard responds

After the meeting, Edvard pulls Barnaby aside, “Now I know this might not be the best invitation you’ve ever had, but do you wanna come over to my place and maybe have a drink to celebrate Astor not messing with me anymore?”

Barnaby smiles a softer smile than his usual one it’s makes Edvard feel funny like he’s got butterflies in his stomach or something like that.

“I’d love to, Lumiere.”

“Alright,” Edvard takes a hold of Barnaby’s hand, “Let’s go.”

Barnaby is led down a street that’s not completely bad but it’s definitely not what he’s used to, being am aristocrat and all that and into a small house lit by a few prototype lights. Barnaby looks in awe at the lights. It seems almost like magic.

“Do you like them?” Edvard asks

“Yeah” Barnaby responds

He reaches out to touch one but his hand is quickly grabbed by Edvard. “They’re still prototypes Barnes, I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

Barnaby smiles at the gesture then asks, “Barnes?”

“Oh yeah, I don’t like the nickname Barney so, Barnes!”

“You don’t have to use a nickname for me if you don’t want to.”

“The others do. So why shouldn’t I?” Edvard asks as he takes glasses out of the cupboard.

“That’s fair.” Barnaby responds as he makes his way over to the couch and sits down.

Edvard hands Barnaby a glass and pours some wine into it and does the same for his glass.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to but it’s better than nothing.” Edvard chuckles trying to dispel the nervous feeling he’s having.

Barnaby raises his glass in response and Edvard sits down next to him.

“To Amadeus Astor finally leaving you the fuck alone.”

“To Amadeus Astor finally leaving me the fuck alone!”

They clink their glasses and Edvard practically downs it, while Barnaby takes a sip but instead savoring the view of Edvard instead of his drink. He’s a lot more relaxed and more at home, well this is his home so, but he’s here with him and it’s just the two of them. Oh God, it’s just the two of them. Just him and Edvard. Alone. Drinking wine together. No one’s in his way.

Edvard laughs a, what Barnaby can only describe as a mad scientist laugh and picks up the bottle again.

Edvard refills his glass and asks Barnaby, “Would you like some more too friend?” “Oh. You’ve barely drunk any is it that bad compared to what you’re used to?”

Barnaby freezes and internally panics as he watches Edvard shrink defensively.

“No no! I’m just trying to savor it to the best of my ability.” Barnaby reassures him

“Oh good.” Edvard sighs in relief

“I was worried there for a second.” He says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Anyways, what dirt have you got on Astor?”

“Oh, yes” Barnaby starts “well you remember that little rumor where it was said he was cheating on his wife?”

“Yes?”

“Well it turns out he’s been cheating on her for years and he’s been cheating with more than one woman.”

“Oooooo”

“So I caught up to him and confronted him about it and in exchange for me not telling the public he isn’t to mess with you.”

“What’d he look like when you confronted him?”

“Well, he went all pale in the face” Barnaby says gazing fondly at Edvard’s giant smile, “and I’m pretty sure he peed himself.”

Edvard erupts into a fit of laughter, howling and all. He’s unable to keep himself up so he lays his head on Barnaby’s lap and the rest of his body on the couch. After a while he wipes the tears from his eyes and looks up at Barnaby.

“That’s amazing, that charlatan’s got what was coming to him!”

Barnaby tucks some of Edvard’s loose hair behind his ear and looks at him fondly.

“Gosh, this makes me so happy I could kiss you.”

Barnaby freezes as he feels his face heat up at the thought of kissing Edvard. After a few minutes of silence, Edvard wraps his arms around Barnaby’s neck and pulls himself onto his lap.

“Barnes? Barnaby? Barnaby are you in there?”

Edvard hooks a finger underneath Barnaby’s chin and examines his face. Barnaby feels his heart beating out of his chest from the unusually high amounts of physical contact going on.

“Are you ok?” Edvard asks

“Y-yeah” Barnaby squeaks

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm” Barnaby says

“No, somethings wrong, I know it. You can tell me? Is it about your butler?”

“No, no it’s not. Edwin’s not even his name.”

“What? Then what Ed are you lying awake at night thinking abou-Oh. Oh it’s me.”

Barnaby turns his face away.

“I can leave if you want.”

“No! Stay, please.”

Edvard grabs Barnaby’s face in his hands, “Do you think I don’t feel the same?”

“D-do you?”

“Yes, I thought it was obvious.”

“Oh”

“Well, do you want that kiss I mentioned or not?”

“Yes, please.”

#oxventure #blades in the dark #edvard #edvard lumiere #barnaby #barnaby fortescue iii #barnaby “the butcher” fortescue iii #barnaby x edvard #intellectual investment #Egg writes

[allmywardensaresafeandsound]

19. Do they allow Cole to stay? If so, do they let him become more human or more of a spirit?

All my Inquisitors allow Cole to stay because I love him.

Catherina met him as she was trapped inside Envy's "dream", and at first she had a hard time trusting he wasn't part of the illusion and there to trick her. Before really understanding what he was, I think her second reaction was that he felt even younger than he looked, and, in a way, it weirdly soothed her. She had two brothers dying on her in the past, and he reminded her about them a little, even if unconsciously. She had been lost, and suddenly, she was a bit in control again, just enough to wonder if he was fine, just enough to already feel a bit protective of a mysterious ghost too-grown-child.

Once at Haven, well, she lets him stay, but her Templar training agrees with Cullen in thinking it cannot be safe, and it's not like she particularly trusts Solas' opinion on the matter either. He's clearly very opinionated about Spirits, and she doesn't really know what to think about that. Fade and magic are not her forte, and conversations with Solas even less so, but at least it gives the boy a name. "Compassion" sounds too good to be true, but Cole is sweet, gentle, timid, and desperate to help, and after he saved her life, accompanied her through some of her worst fears without judgement she can't really bring herself to doubt his intentions to be good, even if she doesn't agree with all of his ways. He is the first one to say that mercy killings were bad, and Catherina insisted on leaving the Maker to decide if the sick would survive or not.

That being said, she has a peculiar background because her adopted brother, before he died at the Conclave, was merged with a Spirit as well. That doesn't mean she necessarily trusts Cole, if anything she's even more aware of what he's capable of, and, well, he doesn't even have a human side to him, unlike Ilamar had, so it's not a situation she underestimates or pretends to understand.

In time she cannot stop to grow very close to him. He truly does remind her of the brothers she lost, even if he is distinctively other, and the little gestures he gifts her with, the scent of lilac in her room after a long day, her horse never lacking a daily, mysterious portion of carrots. She is grateful, deeply so, to have this.

She makes him more human, in part because Solas says not to, and they have that kind of relationship. But also because that Templar deserved judgment, not forgiveness for the sake of a good gesture, and certainly didn't deserve to forget. Catherina is a believer of scars being a reminder of having to do better the following time. If one forgets they got hurt to begin with, they are just bound to repeat their mistakes.

She cannot judge if being a spirit is better than being a human, and it's barely the point in her opinion. Spirits don't live, and she wants Cole to live, for as long as the Maker will have him.

Ilamar has been merged with a spirit of Love since he wasn't an adult yet, and it brought him all sort of complications in relating with others. He risked losing himself in people's emotions far too many times, a part of him constantly aching to fulfill and soothe at the expense of his own identity, and he decided he was over with it. It means that rather than letting himself being used for his sensitivity to love and other people's need, he just decided to use them for his own benefit instead. He borders on Desire way too often, as his yellowed eyes are proof of it, but it allowed him to keep himself in check, and it's what matters to him most.

So when Cole comes knocking at their doors he can tell the boy is other, but he doesn't really have the time to think about it.

Once they reach Skyhold, well, he rather prefers recruiting Cole than not knowing where he is. It was the same reasoning he applied to the Iron Bull and Dorian, after all, and he understands better than almost anyone what Cole’s deal is, or, well, what his nature implies. He still has no clue of how it came to be that a spirit took a body without possessing anyone, but he trusts Solas would have been able to tell if the spirit boy truly was too unstable to be.

Later he kind of grows to like the boy, even if their attitude towards their own nature are quite opposite and it shows in their early interactions. Ilamar has been wearing masks for years, and he confuses Cole greatly, despite the boy insisting he has a good heart, which in parallel exasperates Ilamar, who doesn't like Cole plucking at his thoughts.

He trusts Solas in making Cole more of a spirit. He doesn't want Cole stuck in an unpleasant limbo the same way Ilamar himself has been and still is. A spirit on its own is free, knows its purpose, is at peace. It's the better option, in Ilamar's opinion. Unburdened by the influence of others, by their expectations, a spirit just is the literal best it can possibly represent.

Kasimir doesn't mind the boy but Cole greatly confuses him to a point where it makes him truly uneasy. He doesn't fault Cole for it, he can tell he's a good guy, but as a dwarf, this whole thing is just of out his comfort zone. Additionally, Cole's behaviors hit Kasimir very intimately, in the way the boy moves, fidgets, behaves. Kasimir does many of those things himself, but also differently enough that Cole's own stims tend to drive Kasimir to a wall. He doesn't fault the guy, and he's happy Varric basically adopted the kid, but he's better at appreciating Cole at a distance.

Kasimir totally trusts Varric' input in raising the boy, -Maker, he has known the man since he was a young boy himself. Basically Cole is family now, and Kasimir thinks of him as a lanky sibling, just the type you kinda tend to ignore by staying in your own room until dinner is ready.

Asala had always been very close to spirits, not to the point Solas is, but she still felt a kinship to them in the years she spent traveling with her father and the Valo Kas, and many spirits helped her learn new magics and see things in the Fade. Her father taught her to be careful, but also to be free, and keeping an open mind had allowed her to grow curious and smart and eager.

Cole and her are quick to grow close, and Asala could hear him and Solas talk for hours. She makes him more of a spirit, even if she grows to miss a bit how he used to be before, despite Solas assuring her he is as happy he can be. Asala makes sure to keep seeking him out, and helps him in his interventions every time she can.

#oc : catherina #oc : Ilamar #oc : Kasimir #oc : Asala #thank you for the ask!! #it took a while #cause i love cole and i'm a messy writer and i cry #i hope it makes sense even tho i refused to re-read myself :'D #didnt wrote anything about Juleka and Moghrana but basically #Juleka is a sweetheart that was very grateful to the Maker for this generous kid and she made him more human cause that's why he was there #and not in the Fade anymore #and Moghrana was crushing on Solas so she basically did anything he wanted her to do #but also like generally didnt have strong opinions on the matter #dealing with humans elves dwrves and quanri is difficult enough without adding spirits to the mix #if he was more independant as a spirit #then it was better for eveyone #ANYWAY i wrote a lot I love my children and I love Cole #i still dont't have a decent ref for Asala and its driving me crazy

[vanhelsingapologist]

//scuttles in

Hey you should totally talk about Kasimir

Kasimir And The Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad 400 Years

CW: Sororicide, Child Death, discussion of mental health, discussion on the nature of shame.

This is going to be so, so long. Disclaimer that this is our table's interpretation of Kasimir Velikov. Spoilers for Curse of Strahd and the Dusk Elves abound.

Guilty, Not Remorseful

Kasimir is one of those characters who seems to be very consistent in characterization across tables. I do believe that if you asked DMs to list their Kasimir’s traits, a majority would hit the Trifecta of Misery:

Guilty

Sad

Desperate.

A massive part of our Kasimir’s characterization is how my DM draws the line between regret, guilt, and remorse.

He feels fathomless guilt surrounding killing Patrina, but he never describes himself as feeling remorse. To explain, I’ll divide it like this:

He feels guilty because he knew it would have a repercussion. He did it anyway. Patrina was engaged to Strahd.

He did not expect the repercussions to be all that they were. This was a mistake, but I don’t entirely know whether he sees his decision surrounding killing Patrina as one or not.

He does not feel remorse, because that would require him to regret what he did (killing his sister). Our Kasimir does not feel remorse for killing her, and it makes him guiltier because of everything her death set off, not to mention the love he held for his sister.

He tells himself that he did what he had to do (he did not), and wishes there were another way (there undoubtedly was), which gives way to shame. 

"I had to do it, but I wish I didn't." "... Did I have to? Surely, yes?"

So, he has these interplaying themes connected to the overarching theme of guilt, all of which drive his every action in our campaign. 

He is okay with this.

He is okay with the idea that every day is a punishment. He did what he had to do, he says, and he believes he should pay that price forever. 

The Whole Patrina Thing

In our game, Patrina didn’t seem to be so much in love with Strahd as she was in love with power. My running theory is that she was intending to dethrone Strahd or overpower him once she’d been turned. 

Because (I believe) in our game, he was one of the first vampires, if not The First Vampire, she didn’t quite realize how spawn mechanics worked— and to that end, neither did the dusk elves.

The Story

Kasimir holds to the story he told us. He discovered his sister half-turned, having received two of the three bites required to undergo the bride ceremony. 

I believe he discovered her in the process of trying to feed (a la Lucy Westenra) and came to the conclusion that she had been irrevocably turned into this horrifying, unknowable dead thing. So he gathered the dusk elves and killed her, setting off the chain of events. 

In the years since he’s been confronted with new information regarding vampirization and the process of turning, but he’s also said that if Patrina hadn’t died, she likely would’ve gone through with it anyway. Is this to avoid heaping more guilt onto his shoulders? Maybe. I don't know. Despite his guilt, he still, interestingly, provides a justification.

We have nothing to contradict his word with.

However, he also told us that he’s been experiencing dreams where she tells him how sorry she is, how much she hates him, how much she loves him, and how much she would have changed if he'd let her live.

His foundational beliefs get preyed upon, because what if he was wrong? What if he doomed everyone because he couldn’t compromise his morality for a moment?

Kasimir’s Backstory Is Misery In Case You Were Wondering

In our campaign, Kasimir and Patrina were raised to be the leaders of their communities and witnessed Rahadin’s exile and subsequent alliance with King Barov.

When the Dusk Elves regrouped after a crushing defeat, Kasimir, who is a Druid in our campaign, was voted in to be the head of the remaining families, and Patrina, an Archmage, left for Ravenloft intermittently. 

I think there was an effort for peace being made with a marriage between Strahd and herself, but obviously, the Tatyana Conundrum came in (Kasimir Win!), and then a couple years down the line, the Patrina Conundrum happened (Kasimir Fail!).

By the time he made his big bad decision, he was not only the head of his community but was also the father to a small child and the husband to a man who would die defending their family.

So, as far as he’s concerned, Kasimir is almost directly responsible for the deaths of his entire family.

He’s in a constant internal battle between blaming Ravenloft— perhaps predominantly, Rahadin— for enacting disproportionate revenge and blaming himself for pulling the trigger. Two things can be true. And still, to this day, his remaining people trust him. He still leads them and protects them. Yowch.

Kasimir As The Moral Compass

While traveling with our party, Kasimir was militant about doing what he believed was right. It could’ve been because he might’ve literally snapped in half if he took on any more shame, but probably had more to do with the fact that he was likely projecting heavily onto our party. 

He held his hand on the metaphorical stove for so long that he has nothing but bone left, so when he sees the party tentatively edging towards the fire, he takes action. 

Because he lives in a cesspool of anguish, I think an argument can be made that he wants to ensure his actions aren’t repeated by someone else. That is for HIM.

How It Affects Dynamic

This makes him fun to have in the party, because not only is Sororicide “Hypocrite” Velikov telling us not to do things, but it also provides a good bit of levity to what is otherwise one of the emotionally heaviest characters in our campaign.

Having this ancient elven druid sternly ask if kicking the corpse of enemy #6 made you feel good and having to shamefully tell him ’no’ creates a bond like no other.

It’s also an interesting way to have him trying to semi-atone without explicitly expressing remorse. Because he judges himself so harshly, he judges the party by the same standards.

Kasimir Will Make The Same Mistake Over And Over

The problem is that shame is poison to recovery.

Kasimir does not believe he has a place in a world in which he is not suffering, so whenever he is confronted with redemption, he’ll do what keeps him rotting.

I don’t know how my other players feel about this, but I’m convinced that it’s not that he can’t break the cycle, it’s that he won’t.

In trying to do the right thing, I think he will choose the wrong thing. He will stone her to death again and again and not know why.

There He Goes Again!

It’s why I think these dreams are such a big problem. I think they’re goading him. Whatever’s causing it (the Dark Powers, Strahd, or Patrina herself) knows him well enough that he will make a horrible, horrible decision. As far as theory goes, I think it may really be Patrina, because who would know him better than his sister?

In our campaign, Kasimir is currently acting as a mentor to a half dusk-elven wizard/druid who habitually toes the line between good and evil. He waffles between wanting to save her and wanting to nip the problem in the bud, propelled by his profound shame for wanting to do it.

He knows he shouldn’t have anything to do with it, but whereas Van Richten isolates himself out of necessity, Kasimir creates this wall between them because he sees the cycle starting again and feels helpless to stop it. It’s like he doesn’t realize he’s actively recreating the cycle.

Sound familiar, Strahd?

He and Van Richten are two characters who might have the biggest questions of the nature of redeemability hanging over their head, and both grapple with themes of guilt.

I think they differ because, in our campaign, Van Richten is actively seeking redemption. Kasimir is not.

He can’t imagine atonement even exists.

#asked and answered #this was asked by a player in my campaign #thank you for letting me yammer i've been wanting to talk about this guy for ages. even if this is free notes </3 #curse of strahd character analysis #kasimir velikov #patrina velikovna #curse of strahd spoilers #curse of strahd #We are a party who believes in love as redemption #but we’ve never met a character who so throughly rejects that concept like Kasimir (and maybe Arrigal). #the emilia and kasimir relationship makes me bleed from the eyes. stop looking for your sister in her or you will find your sister in her. #add the rahadin shit in and thatsa one spicy meatball #does kasimir believe good is inherited or cultivated? i think he BELIEVES he thinks it's cultivated. #going 2 put every old man in this module in therapy and then maybe a box #kasimir in general man...... #my DM is very very smart and we're her little rats running around screaming

[intheseautumnhands]

Writer's asks, though there are a lot of good questions in this lot! It was hard to pick, but: 4, 6, 14, 20

meta asks for writers (I'm 90% sure this is the right one, sorry, I got so knocked out this month XD)

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I am finding this hard because I think, generally, it’s the ones that feel really in-character that I am proudest of, more than ones I feel are really stand-outs alone. Like, I’m not sure this, or most of the moments I like in rearrange the old and call it new, is particularly noteable if you don’t know Sanctuary and James and John’s dynamic, but I am very happy with how it captures the moment between them, and James’ stubbornness and reluctant wistfulness for the old days: It's difficult enough to accept John's help, though, when it's entirely based in need. Even more difficult when it comes with that familiar, sensible tone, the one imprinted in what are still, regrettably, some of his best memories.

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

Lately, I honestly think it's Kasimir. XD I don't know, I'm not gonna say it's the perfect voice or anything, but there is a very distinct voice that slips in naturally when I start trying to write for him, which is something I don't think has happened so easily with me for any character since River Tam. Also, I can go full chaos, very competent crime stuff, I can have dramatic backstory, learning to be cared about, I can just hit SO many points I enjoy from his perspective.

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Answered!

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, idden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Let’s see, here’s a couple:

- in the hope of open hands  has a tiny Ocean’s 11 reference entirely to amuse myself (”... that makes him feel more secure than working with proper villains ever does.” Kasimir apparently has a different view on this topic than Basher.)

- the SINGULAR relationship progression in a fic I am most proud of is the Luther/Five development in the seasons always change, and life will find a way. Unspooling the thread of mild interest on Luther’s end and trying to hint at Five having feelings from the very beginning was a lot of fun to write. Also the cards were very deliberate choices -- especially the last one being the same as the first, which made the whole thing feel very full-circle in a way I liked.

- I have. so many notes for the future is brighter than any flashback, because I jumped 12 years ahead in the story without filling out the backstory, but definitely filled it in in my head. XD Some of my favorite beats that didn’t get a reference in the story:

the way Barnaby’s circle reacts to his relationship with Kasimir! They’re pretty evenly split between finding ‘Barnaby’s strange friend’ funny but not expecting it to last much longer (even though it’s been about five years now that they’ve been openly together), and being sure Kasimir’s going to rip him off and finding the whole thing embarrassing.

the one person really rooting for them is Percy Pomeroy... who also happens to think he’s an extremely close personal friend to both of them. Kasimir has not found a way to disabuse him of this notion half because Barnaby is kind of protective of family members he likes, and half because Percy’s oldest son, who is university-aged, has all that desire for adventure/something interesting to do paired with an incredibly sharp mind. Kasimir is convinced the boy is destined for a life of crime, and doing his best to make it happen, slowly.

here’s the biggest one that is not even hinted, and that I kind of want to write a whole fic about: Zillah and Eleanor have been married for nine years, together for ten. Zillah and Kasimir’s regular drinks arrangement occasionally turns into light-hearted complaining about these weird rich people we somehow fell in love with. (they’re both basically rich in their own right at this point. they both maintain that it’s different.)

Lilith adopted a young boy who’d started with the Gut-Cutters, but Bug was afraid wasn’t cut out for it, and who had some natural talent with ghosts. The intention was to send him to Lilith for training, but they became very attached, very quickly.

Mumbles is somewhere between an adopted daughter and a favorite niece for the boys. None of them have ever actually voiced this fact, but everyone knows it.

#by grace and grit

[generic-cleric]

Session 31: Curse of Strahd

Spoilers for the campaign Curse of Strahd

The Festival of The Blazing Sun: Under Pressure

The silence in the church is deafening. As soon as they can, the party starts straightening up the church and tending to the wounded. They get it running as a sort of triage / refugee center. Vondal stays in the church to heal and stabilize commoners while Veledrel, Bedlam, Okrin, Jander, and Ireena head out to search for specific people and direct others in need of help toward the church.

The named NPCs that died were Yvengi, Nikolai Wachter, Lucien, Yeska, and Milivoj. There were many merchants, commoners, and keepers of the feather that perished. Izek, Fiona, and Rictavio’s fates were unconfirmed. Everyone else survived the night.

Okrin was curious about Izek and went searching for him. He couldn't find him, but during his search he heard from another guard that Izek was last seen chasing a vampire spawn into a burning building. No traces of him could be found, but when Okrin used Locate Object on Izek's weapon he could tell he was moving west, away from the town.

While searching around, the party heard that Fiona Wachter escaped The Reformation Center (a closet in the Baron’s house) during all the craziness. 

The bodies had been buried, including Father Lucien who died via Strahd bite. 

Bedlam, Jander, and Ireena go back to the encampment for the night. Luvash stops Bedlam to thank him for saving his daughter. He explains that he works very closely with Ms. Fiona Wachter, and that she paid him a nice sum of money to have the party disposed of, though he’s so grateful he’s not going to do that! Bedlam didn’t mind so much, but the player was pretty shocked.

Bedlam learned Bestow Curse at his most recent level up at the church. The player wanted to have Bedlam approach Arabelle and ask her to teach him how to curse people since she threatened Bluto with one at the lake. Of course I was all for it. While it doesn’t exactly work the same as his spell, through her guidance he was able to understand it in a way that he can manifest.

 Bedlam is staying with Kasimir and Jander gave his hovel to Ireena. She's kind enough to insist on sharing, since she only needs it at night really. So he gets comfy and posts up outside.

Morning comes, Jander heads inside to sleep. Bedlam and Ireena interrupt though, as the festival is mandatory. So everyone heads to the festival! They are all given small iron squares and are told it's a coinless event. No one is really sure what that means.

The Festival of the Blazing Sun kicks off with various stalls and games, though some of them are closed because some NPCs weren't there.

Izek would have been running the strength test, but since he was gone Okrin stepped in. 

Rictavio ditched town, so no one was running the ball cup game so Bedlam took over that.

The apothecary died so no one was in charge of the Mystery Drink game so Veledrel stepped in.

Vondal didn't trust any of the games and thought everyone was scamming him, so he opted to watch the pit fighting.

So I guess Jander and Ireena are on a date now.

The commoners seemingly also didn't know what to do with the cards and ended up just handing them over like tickets. The players then began trying to collect as many cards as they could from attendees. Really wish I had thought of Jander charming commoners into spending their cards, but oh well!

Bedlam notices Okrin’s success and so turns his stall into a kissing booth. Surprisingly he still has customers.

Everyone wins raffle prizes since Jander and Ireena were the only ones that played games. Wine, Blinsky toys, pies. Ireena won a creepy barbarian doll, Jander was going to offer her his prize until he realized it was an egg depicting images of misery but then decided it was better off in the trash. To be honest with you, I think Ireena thought that was so dark humorously funny she may have kept it.

As the excitement from the games dies down, the time for the parade approaches. It kicks off with an award ceremony where the party gets some money, a deed to a house, a letter or recommendation, and the next festival will be named after them!

A pathetic parade flows through the streets that have barely been cleared of the debris. The baron leads on his sad horse while the party trails directly behind, followed by some sad orphans dressed like flowers, and then a cart wheeling around a huge wicker sun.

They make it to the town square. The stage where the stocks usually are has been cleared off (since the prisoners had been freed the night before). This is where the wicker sun is suspended for all to admire. The baron has a short, sweet speech about how cool and safe Vallaki is, with no mention of the tragedy of the night before. Ireena and Veledrel are fuming about this.

 A pathetic Music performance (and some explaining from Jander) reveals to the party that a large majority of the people here don’t have souls. They also politely ignored the part where Jander and maybe Bedlam are in that demographic.

The Baron goes to ignite the sun when suddenly it begins downpouring, dousing the flames. A laugh is heard from the crowd, and all eyes are on Lars. Lars was holding his retirement party at the Blue Water Inn when they first met and they shared some drinks together. 

The Baron goes all “Off with his head!” and the crowd reaches a tipping point. I ask the party if they would like to take advantage of the crowd’s momentum. They consider their options: incite a riot to overthrow the Baron, or smooth things over.

They decided to smooth things over. With Fiona on the loose and Izek nowhere to be found, they felt like Vallaki was vulnerable enough. They figured that the people would eventually overthrow him if he continued to be terrible, and they didn’t want to run the risk of someone even worse coming to power since they didn’t have any NPCs they thought could / would take the position. 

Veledrel shot a bolt of fire, igniting the sun, while Bedlam hops up on the stage to flatter the Baron into calmness. After gassing him up, Bedlam thanks the Baron for such a lovely time, gives him a smooch on the cheek and then hands him all the iron cards he collected. As Bedlam leaves the stage he hears all the cards clatter against the ground and the Baron grumbling to himself. 

And that’s about where we ended the session! No one died or got dragged behind a horse. So, all was kind of well.

Sure there was a lot I could have done differently, like still having Fiona show up to incite a riot, or having the Baron throw the party out of town. They put so much into Vallaki that they deserved a win somewhere. I can tell that my players respond well to seeing that they’ve made a difference in the world around them. They are really big on trying to make this grim place better. And yes, I know, its the Ravenloft setting, things are bad here. But if they feel like all their effort is for naught, then what reason do they have to try? I’m the same way, so I get it.

Anyway, excuse my ramblings! Thanks for reading <3

#curse of strahd #cos #dnd #dnd 5e #5e #session write up #Ravenloft #Barovia #Jander Sunstar #session summary #Ireena Kolyana

[vivalavili]

“You think that going around and pillaging people’s resources and killing their families is going to make them like you?!” Kaz says with a slightly louder voice than he’s ever used, his tone clipped and harsh.

“You tell me, Kasimir,” Palpatine pauses, “did you not put in the terms of the agreement - if you were to sign - that you get your beskar back? It’s called leverage, son. For reasons like this, right now. But you’re too young to know about that.”

“I have plenty of experience,” he snaps. “And what makes you think I would even sign your fucking treaty anyway.”

“Because if you don’t, it’ll be more than just your wife that you lose.”

Aurra gasps quietly, and the room falls silent. Kaz doesn’t move from where he’s at, hands splayed across Palpatine’s desk as he’s leaning in his face.

“That’s right,” Palpatine nods solemnly, “you see- I have a few trusty friends within this palace. You may know of them- Drogr Kryze? And let’s not forget weak-minded Jaspar. The inquisitor that greeted you when you arrived? Slipping into his mind is so easy. So that takes care of Cody. Not only do I have access to your son through the Watch members you couldn’t control. I’ve got access to another newborn clan member that, once he becomes strong enough, I will make him more powerful than his father. And he will burn every single one of you to the ground with his saber. Yes, even his parents,” Palpatine coos. “And let’s see- who else do I have access to- oh!” He gasps softly, “her name is Sansa, yes?”

“DON’T-“ Kaz slams a hand on the desk and takes a deep breath. “Get to the fucking point. NOW.”

“No I think I’ll continue. Let’s see- Crosshair is a member of your clan, is he not? He was easy to chip. His didn’t act up- not like Hunter’s. Speaking of, I have wonderful plans for Hunter. You see there’s a certain look he gets when I remind him of Vader and Varyn’s bond. He doesn’t think he gets it, but he does. And then there’s a different look I evoke from him when I mention what a deadbeat father is. He’s easy to control once I break him into pieces.”

Kaz growls. “He didn’t know they were alive because you’re a pathetic fuck who was too scared of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s wrath to let the galaxy know they were alive. Here’s something else I know. Every single person you just mentioned? Has at least one personal grievance against you. And as clan members, if you hurt one of us, I will come after you for the rest of your fucking days. I will come slowly. And I will hunt you. I will make you see me in crowds. And at speeches. And at galas. Until you’re too paranoid to even look over your shoulder.”

“That sounds a bit unlike you, Kasimir,” Palpatine quips, “more of a Hunter thing, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know… my second in command has been in that corner behind you the whole time. Did you notice?”

Palpatine whirls to find Galin stepping out of the shadowed area. “Emperor.”

“Well isn’t this a cute display,” Palpatine sighs. “Would you like to see something else that’s cute?”

“Anything’s a nice break from seeing your face.”

Palpatine whistles and Trilla stalks in, staring Kaz down.

“Oh,” Kaz gestures, “you have a guard dog. You’re right that is cute.”

“I’m all bite and no bark,” Trilla quips.

Kaz snorts. “Clearly. You’ve got no tact whatsoever. In fact you walked in here like a man- probably a good thing you have the helmet off. So what am I doing, fighting her? What is the ploy here?”

I look at Vader with wide eyes and then down to Luca before back to the comm. Oh this is bad. This is so bad. I tug on Hunter’s arm with the Force to bring him here.

[theraputicwritings]

Electric Pulse—Chapter One

Chapter One: The Beginning

Summary: Breanna is just your typical young adult attending her parents’ funeral when she is attacked and kidnapped by HYDRA. What will happen after none other than the Avengers save her?

Word Count: 5751

OCxBucky Barnes fanfic

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, and I don’t know what else. 

A/N: This is a work in progress but I promise that whenever I write a new chapter, I’ll add a link to the previous chapter and the next chapter. I know it’s a long read, but I really hope that it captures your focus! And I hope you enjoy it! 

My parents' funeral was a bit like how you'd expect it. It was raining, it was dark, and it was sad. The only thing you might not expect about it was that besides a few work friends and the pastor, there was only me. We didn't have any other family to mourn the loss of them. And I slightly wondered if the work friends that came only felt guilty. The funeral was short and to the point and soon after, it was just me sitting in front of my parents’ graves on a bench that the funeral home had brought out for me. It was still raining, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I was 21 so I no longer needed a guardian, not that I had one to need. But still. I still needed my parents.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but long enough for day time to become night. My body was cold and my black clothes were soaked through from the rain. A hand squeezed my shoulder and I jumped, turning to see one of the cemetery’s employees. “I’m sorry Miss Davis, but I’m afraid you have to leave. We have to close the gates by nine.” She looked at me with pity in my eyes and I took a deep breath. Nodding, I lifted myself from the bench and started walking out of the cemetery. I didn’t have a car, but my house really wasn’t that far from where I was. And I didn’t think I was in any position to drive anyways. My limbs ached from the cold, but I barely noticed. My only focus was to get myself home.

I had just barely made it down the first two blocks when I heard the engine of a car. I moved onto the sidewalk so it could pass me. I turned when it hadn't and saw a dark van idling close behind me. Nervous, I turned forward and picked up my speed. It probably wasn't anything when I made it to the end of the street, waiting for the crosswalk light to turn. They probably were just rubbernecking. I looked up to see that the van was now parallel to me and in a blur, the door opened and someone jumped out, wrapping their arms around my waist. 

I shrieked, flailing my arms and legs as they carried me into the van. A cloth was pressed against my mouth and I continued to struggle to get away. The last thing I saw before I passed out was a man with a disfigured face covering my head with a hood.

My arms and legs were clamped to a metal chair when I woke up. The hood was still covering my head and my breathing started to pick up as I panicked. Just as soon as I started to struggle, the hood was yanked away from my head and my eyes were flooded with bright white lights. I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted and once they were focused I realized I was face to disfigured face with the man from earlier. I screamed loudly but I was stopped abruptly when I felt the sting of a hand slapping against my face. My head jerked back but was grabbed by the chin and yanked forward.

"I would not do that if I were you. Besides, it wouldn't work anyway. No one is coming to save you," the man growled, his nails digging into my chin. "W-where am I?" I chastised myself for how weak and afraid I sounded. I cleared my throat, "What do you want from me?"

 "Where you are, is none of your concerns right now. As for what do we want from you. Well, that's not a question for me to answer," the man answered, letting go of my chin. As he let go a smaller man dressed in white from head to toe walked into my view. He was older but not by much. His graying hair was slicked back and he was wearing a pair of glasses perched on his head.

“Miss Breanna Davis, I’ve brought you here because you know things that not many other people know,” he said, pacing slowly in front of me. “Things about your parents and what they did.” My eyes widened as he mentioned my parents. “My parents were professors at MIT,” I explained, fear hitching in my throat. Pain erupted in my stomach as the disfigured man punched me hard in my stomach. I cried out in pain and my body naturally tried to double over but it couldn’t with the restraints on my arms. “Don’t lie,” he threatened, cracking his knuckles.

"As you can see, Dormian here is a bit…aggressive. If you answer any of my questions incorrectly, he'll punish you accordingly. And that's because we know that you must have known things about your parents," the man explained, smiling cruelly at my pain. "I seriously don't know what you're talking about," I said, "My parents were biochemistry professors. That's all." More pain came as Dormian hit me in the stomach again.

And so, the questions continued. For hours, the man in white hurled questions at me that made no sense. Questions like, "What did your parents do for SHIELD?" and "What did they do after SHIELD fell?" and each time I answered with I truly didn't know. And each time I answered like that, Dormian's fist connected with a piece of my body. Mostly my stomach, but he hit my face and back as well. I screamed each time until my throat was raw and my body was too weak. 

“I think that’s enough questions for today. You’ve proved vigilant in protecting your family’s secrets, Miss Davis. But you’re doing so in vain. We know that you know, and even if it takes you losing limbs, we will get the answers we seek,” the man in white said. Dormian backed away and together the two left the room.

Once they were gone, my head slumped forward touching my chin. How could this have happened to me? My body trembled with a horrifying mixture of pain and fear as I breathed heavily. Obviously, my parents weren’t who I thought they were. For this man to be grilling me so badly, they must have been pretty important to this SHIELD that he mentioned repeatedly. But he wasn't going to get any answers from me. And not because I was loyal to my parents, even though I was, but because I truly, sincerely didn't know anything. I thought my parents were just mega-nerds who were professors at MIT. Eventually, exhaustion and pain took over my racing thoughts as I fell asleep.

 The next morning, I woke up to a table of horrifying looking tools placed next to the chair I was in. They looked archaic and my anxiety heightened just thinking about what they were going to be used for.Dormian soon walked in, the man in white following behind him. “I see you’re awake, Miss Davis. I hope that your night helped you come to your senses and that you’ll be ready to answer our questions. If not, then Dormian here might be able to help convince you otherwise.” His hand gestured to Dormian walked up to me, picking up a scalpel from the table.           

 “I swear to you, I don’t know anything about what my parents did!” I exclaimed. The man in white smiled smugly as the scalpel was dragged against my arm. Cutting deep enough to hurt, but not deep enough to have me bleed out.             And just like the night before, the questions and the tortured continued. Cuts were littered over my arms and legs and several of my toenails and fingernails had been ripped out. The questions were different this time though. Instead of being geared about where my parents worked, they were geared towards my parents’ actual work. Which again, I knew nothing about.

I had stopped crying out towards the end of it just like they had the night before. It was obvious that the man in white was starting to become frustrated with me. Secretly, I got a kick out of it. At least, I got the satisfaction of not giving this man what he wanted. Dormian stepped back as the man in white finished his last question.

“I’m really disappointed in you, Miss Davis. I would hope that you would be more compliant to the questions I have for you. It looks like we need to try more methods in the morning,” he snarled, turning to leave the room. Dormian left soon after and with that, the night was over once again. 

The next morning, I could tell was going to be different. I didn’t know what, but I could sense a shift in the air. It started out the same as the previous two days with the man in white and Dormian walking into the room. Today though, Dormian had a weird contraption in his hands. It had straps on it which he proceeded to connect to different areas. One across my torso, one on both arm, and one on both legs. The straps were connected by wires leading to a battery pack about the size of a car battery.

"Miss Davis, I would have hoped that it would never have come to this, but it seems you lead me no choice. Each time you answer my questions incorrectly, Dormian here will press a button which will send an electric current towards your body. Each volt will be about 100 watts of electricity shocking you. So, think wisely before playing the fool again today,” the man in white explained, his eyes narrowed.

As the questions started, I answered as I had the previous nights. Each time a shock of electricity was shot towards my already injured and weak body. We got through about ten questions and it got to the point where my head was slumped forward and I just kept murmuring, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Suddenly alarms started blaring and both Dormian and the man in white glanced at each other. A man ran into the room, a worried look on his face. “Dr. Kasimir! We’ve been compromised!” he exclaimed, before exiting the room again. Finally, I knew the man in white’s name.

Dr. Kasimir turned back to me, his composure calm. "I'm afraid our time together is coming to an end, Miss Davis. If only you had helped us. Maybe I would have let you still live." My eyes widened as I realized what he was implying. "Turn her volts up to 200 on continuous-stream, Dormian! But first, douse her with water!" he barked. 

I gasped as cold water splashed against my face, my body more alert than ever. Suddenly pain surged through me as electricity raced through the battery into my body. I screamed loudly as the current kept going. I smelled smoke and I knew it was coming from my body. I hadn’t even noticed when the doctor and Dormian had left, my body hurt that much.

The door burst open and Captain America and the Winter Soldier ran into the room. If I hadn't been in so much pain, my eyes would have practically been popping out of their sockets with awe. "What the hell?!" one exclaimed as he looked at me. "Language Bucky," the other one said. "Get it off!" I begged, my body feeling like it was on fire.

Both men looked at the battery on the ground. "Bucky, you have to turn that thing off. Vibranium isn't a conductor of the electricity!" Captain America instructed. Nodding, the Winter Soldier walked up to me and yanked the straps off with his metal arm.  

I cried in relief as the electric current ebbed away. Smoke clung to the air as the rest of the restraints were taken off. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, his voice filled with concerned. My body slumped forward and in a flash, the Winter Soldier picked me up. My body still twitched as he held me close and I felt all of the adrenaline leave my body.

“We need to get out of here, Steve!” he barked, holding me close. Captain American nodded and they both started to leave the room. My eyes drifted in and out of focus as I clung to the Winter Soldier, tears in my eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeated as he ran down the hallway.

We made it to a jet and the last thing I remember seeing before blacking out was concerned faces and sparks flying across my vision.

                                                          ~~~

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, my body bandaged in various places. I jolted upright as fear raced through me. Hands grabbed my shoulders and gently started to push me back down in the bed. "Whoa there, honey! Everything is going to be okay,” a doctor said, laying me gently back down. My brain continued to race as my eyes darted around the room. “Where am I?” I asked, my heart racing. “You’re in the Avengers compound,” the doctor explained, his eyes moving towards an EKG machine next to my bed. “Why am I here? Shouldn’t I be in a hospital?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed together. “Well, the Avengers compound is probably better than any hospital we could have taken you too. We have a lot better equipment,” he explained.

“Is your heart racing?” he asked suddenly, grabbing my wrist to feel my pulse. “Yes? But is that not normal? I’ve kind of been through a lot,” I answered nervously. “Normally yes, but your heart rate has been abnormally accelerated, even when you were unconscious it was fast,” the doctor explained, his voice concerned. He turned back to the EKG machine. “And, watch your heart beat. It happens quickly, but you might catch it," he continued.

We both watched intently when it happened. “There!” he exclaimed, pointing at it with his pen. A small spark of lightning passed through the screen. My eyes widened in surprise. “What the hell was that?” I asked, watching as it happened again. “It must be from when you were being electrocuted. Your body reacted much differently than it should. I’m thinking it’ll subside, but we’re going to continue watching it to make sure. But I will say this, you’re very lucky to be alive,” he explained, smiling at me.

I sighed wondering if that was true. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. It opened and I was surprised to see my rescuers along with none other than Tony Stark walk in. “Hey there,” Captain America started, a concerned smile on your face. “We just wanted to see how you were, Breanna,” I nodded, nervous to speak, “I guess so.”

Then a thought crossed my mind. “How do you all know my name?” I asked, looking around them. “Michael and Linda liked to talk about you when they were here," Tony stepped in a grin on his face. "You knew my parents?" I questioned. "Yeah, they used to work here occasionally. They always talked about how bright you are," Tony explained.

My eyes widened slightly. “That’s what the men who took me wanted to know! What my parents did for SHIELD. I didn’t know.” Looks passed between the three at my outburst. “We’ll talk about that later, Breanna. For right now, let’s just focus on you getting better,” Captain America replied. I nodded and leaned into my bed. “Will I get to go home when I’m better?” I asked wondering if I even wanted to get home. “We’re not sure,” Tony responded, “The men who took you are still out there. We want to make sure you’re protected so you don’t get taken again.” Fear raced through me as the thought of being taken again occurred. And maybe this time, I would know what my parents did.

I shook my head to try to clear the thoughts away. “Well, anyways, thank you for saving me, Captain Rogers and Winter Soldier,” I said, looking at my two rescuers. I realized that I’d never seen the two outside of their suits before. It almost seemed strange to see them in “civilian” clothing. “Please, call me Steve and I’m sure Bucky wants you to call him Bucky,” Steve replied, a sheepish grin coming on Bucky’s face.

I nodded, a small smile peeking out. “If I’m going to be here awhile, do you think we could go to my house at some point so I can get some of my clothes and a few other things?” I asked, my mind wandering. Tony scratched his chin as he thought. “I don’t see why not, once you’re all good to go. We’ll have Barnes take you so you’ll be protected.” At that, I glanced over at the doctor. “How long do you think it’ll be until I’m good to go?” I asked. Besides the obvious aches and overall soreness, I really didn’t feel that bad.

"Well, I want to make sure the cuts on you are healed up some more before you start moving a whole lot. You didn't stay there long enough for them to get infected, but I don't want the wounds reopening from you moving too much. Also, if possible, I'd like for Dr. Banner to do a few tests to you about your heart rate and the weird flow of electric current running through you. If he's available of course."

He said the last part, looking over at the Avengers. Tony nodded, “I don’t see why he wouldn’t be. And if you think it’s interesting enough, Doc, I’m sure he’d want to take a look at Breanna.” The doctor grinned a little bit, “Oh it’s definitely interesting enough.” I blushed at the idea. “Well, then I’ll make sure to let Banner know. If you think you’re up for it, Breanna, I’ll see if you can run by his lab tomorrow,” Tony replied, looking at me. I nodded, “I think so. If you think it’ll help.”

There was a little bit of silence before Steve spoke up. “Well, we probably should get going so you can rest some.” Everyone nodded, including the doctor. “I’ll make sure that someone brings you up some food and someone will come by regularly to check on your wounds and vitals,” he explained, typing something into a tablet. With that, everyone left and it was only then that I’d notice that Bucky hadn’t spoken the entire time. I didn’t think much of it though and leaned back into the bed.

Shortly after everyone left, a nurse came in with a tray of food. My stomach gurgled as I realized I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in the past three or four days. The nurse helped me sit up and handed me the food: a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a glass of water. “Thank you,” I said, smiling a little bit. The nurse nodded and smiled before leaving.

I quietly ate, trying not to think of the past few days or what was going to come in the future. I looked at my hands and cringed when I saw the multiple cuts and the bandages over three of my fingers from where my nails had been ripped out. I wondered how long it would be until they grew back and I wondered how long it would be until my life went back to normal. Or if my life was ever going to go back to normal. In some part of my mind, I knew that it probably wasn't. Not as long as Dormian and the man in white, I mean Dr. Kasimir, were still out there. My brain hurt as I thought about what my parents did that could make them so intent on wanting information about them. Especially now that they were gone.

A knock on my door brought me out of thoughts and I answered with a “Come in.” The door open and Tony Stark stepped through. “Dr. Banner said that he would be more than happy to take a look at you in the morning,” he explained. I nodded, nervously chewing on my lip. “Do you know anything about what my parents did? That’s what Dr. Kasimir was after, right? That’s why they took me,” I asked.

Tony sighed as he pulled a chair from across the room and sat down. “Your parents worked for SHIELD as biochemists. They were studying more about the super soldier serum and trying to come up with an antidote to combat HYDRA. Then when SHIELD fell I hired them to work alongside Bruce Banner and continue with different projects.”

I never broke eye contact as Tony explained to me some more, but honestly, I wasn't sure if I believed him. "This is what that doctor wanted so badly from me?" I asked, twiddling with the bandages on my fingers. Tony nodded, "That's what we think anyways. That this Dr. Kasimir worked for HYDRA and wanted to replicate the antidote to protect themselves more than likely."  

"Why would they think I would know anything about my parents work? They were so adamant that I was just protecting my parents but I honestly didn't know anything about the questions they were asking. There were several of their co-workers at their funeral. Wouldn't they have been better targets?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. “I guess they just thought that since you were Michael and Linda’s daughter that you would know more than anyone about your parents’ work.” I sighed as I thought some more. “Did you hire my parents to help Bucky?” I asked, remembering reading how sometimes Bucky still reverted back to the old Winter Soldier that HYDRA had made. Tony nodded. "Once Bucky became a part of the team, I knew that your parents could be vital to helping Bucky with his disillusions. Everyone was disappointed when they died."

“They must have been pretty important then,” I stated, feeling pride for my parents. “They definitely were, Breanna. We’re going to make sure that their lives aren’t forgotten. Especially now that we have you.” Tony beamed as he stood to get up.

He turned to leave, but stopped and spun back around midway. “Oh, by the way, I figured you would get pretty bored in here, so I got you this. Don’t worry, it’s not your typical tablet,” he stated, handing me a flat tablet. “This has internet on it, but it’s holographic so it can project what you’re watching into almost 3D configuration,” he explained, leaning into me to scrolling a finger on the tablet.

A clip from the Battle of New York appeared, hovering over the tablet. My eyes widened in disbelief. “This is amazing! You didn’t have to do this for me, Mr. Stark.” “Please, call me Tony,” he said, grinning as he finally left for good this time.

I smiled as I started to scroll through the tablet as different images appeared. It was so fascinating, I was even looking at the weather channel with an awed joy. My finger stopped as a clip from today’s news passed.

They were talking about me, a picture from my driver's license popping up on the screen. "Breanna Davis was rescued late last night by Captain America and the Winter Soldier from a HYDRA base. Sources have said that she is in stable condition, but it hasn't been revealed why she was taken in the first place. From what we've gathered, Davis just appears to be your average girl from Maryland. What will come from this, we don't know yet, but we'll make sure to keep everybody updated. This is Julia Sanders from WYF4 News. Thank you, Jon." I put the tablet down as the news moved on to another story. Something about Spiderman stopping a bank robber or some other. 

It petrified me to know that my story seemed so interesting to people that I'd made the news. And who had even told them that I was missing? The other thing was, what if Dr. Kasimir would find me, even though in my head I knew that didn't make much sense. But that didn't stop me from the panic attack I was having. 

I was so enrapt by what I had just seen I didn’t even notice the smell of smoke or the sparks coming from the EKG machine. A female voice started speaking from an intercom. “Miss Davis, it appears that you are in distress, would you like for me to get a doctor?” I shook my head as my breathing intensified and it felt like my throat felt like it was closing.

It was then that I noticed sparks popping out of my hands and I looked at the mirror in the room to see sparks spurting from my hair. I screamed and jumped up out of the bed as more sparks flowed down my arms, circling my body. It didn't hurt, but I was terrified at what was happening. I backed myself into a corner, more sparks shooting from my fingertips and smoke filling the room.

The door slammed open as the doctor, Tony, and Bucky rushed into the room. I couldn't speak as they hurried over to me. "What's happening to me?" I yelled, more sparks flying. I crossed my arms around my torso to try to stop the sparks coming out of my fingertips. But when I touched myself, the sparks encased my body, intensifying even more as I screamed.

“Bucky! Do something!” Tony ordered, staying back, but looking very concerned. Bucky walked in front of me and clasped his hands around my face. “Breanna, you need to calm down,” he instructed, his voice calm, but his eyes filled with worry. “I think the electricity is responding to your emotions. You’re safe. The sparks aren’t hurting you. Trying to breathe with me.” My eyes locked on his as I tried to focus on our breathing. In and out. In and out.

We did this several times until I started to calm and the sparks slowed down. It felt like several minutes had passed until there was only the occasional spark popping out of my now burned hair. Once I was relaxed, Bucky let go of my head and I collapsed into him, exhausted.

He wrapped his arms around me and helped me get back into the bed. “What just happened?” Tony asked, his eyes wide. I shook my head, “I don’t know. I saw myself on the news and I started to have a panic attack. And then the sparks started flying.” I looked around the room and that was when I noticed that every electrical appliance had smoke coming from it and the lights were out. The only light was coming from the window and the opened doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” I frowned, holding my head in my hands. “I don’t know how this happened.” “It’s okay, Breanna. Banner is going to take some tests in the morning and hopefully we’ll get some answers,” Tony stated, squeezing my shoulder gently. “In the meantime, you’ll probably want to be moved into a different room. And we can get you a psychiatrist that you can talk to, to help with future potential panic attacks,” the doctor added, typing something into his tablet.

I shook my head. “I don’t want a psychiatrist! I know why I’m having panic attacks. I don’t want to talk to someone who is just going to make me feel vulnerable. I’ve had enough of that.” “But Breanna, I really do think that it would be necessary for you to have—“ “No! I don’t need a psychiatrist!”

Everyone took a step back at my outburst and that’s when I noticed that my fingers had started sparking again. I clenched my hands into fists and moved so I was sitting on them. The room was silent for a few minutes before Tony clasped his hands together. “I guess that’s settled then! We won’t get you a psychiatrist. But. If you change your mind and do think that you need one, I can make one available to you. Okay? Now let’s go get you a new room.”

“But-” Tony shot a look at the doctor that would make even the Hulk back down from saying anything stupid. Then he looked back at me and smiled. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked, holding out his hand.

I nodded and swung my legs over the bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. I took his hand and used it to push myself up into a standing position. Almost as soon as I stood, though, my legs gave out and I felt myself falling. “Oopsie Daisy!” Tony exclaimed, holding me up and helping me sit back down on the bed. “Can’t be doing that.” He looked around before looking Bucky who hadn’t said anything and then looking at me. “Would you be okay with Bucky carrying you? It’ll just be down the hallway and it’ll be more fun than a wheelchair, I promise,” he suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. I blushed but shrugged. “I guess it’ll be alright. Are you okay with it?” I replied, looking at Bucky.

Bucky nodded and leaned down to pick me up. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed. I did as I was told and he proceeded to pick me up with one arm around my back and the other under my legs. I leaned into him, focusing on the cool metal of his arm on my skin. Which made me think and sometimes when I think, I don’t exactly think about if it’s an appropriate thing to say. “Even though it is metal, shouldn’t your arm be warm like the rest of your body?” I asked, “Why is it cold?”

I looked up at Bucky to see red spread across his cheeks. “I don’t know. I guess because it’s not connected to my veins or any other part of my body except for a few nerves,” he answered. I looked over to see Tony with a stupid grin on his face. “What?” He shook his head. “It’s just that you are so much like Michael, it’s not even funny.” I smiled at the mention of my father. “I get that a lot,” I replied. “Come on,” Tony said, holding open the door for Bucky.

With that, Bucky carried me into a different bedroom not too far away from the old one. It was similar to the one I was in, only this one had big windows that faced the Appalachian Mountains. I could tell because they reminded me of home so much.

“What state are we in?” I asked, realizing I didn’t even know where I was and how far from home I’d gotten. “We’re in upstate New York,” Bucky answered as he laid me down on the bed. “It’s beautiful up here. Reminds me of home,” I explained, ache blooming in my chest. “Where are you from?” Bucky asked as the doctor started hooking me up to the EKG machine in there and recording my vitals. “A town in Maryland. It was right on the edges of the Appalachian Mountains,” I answered.

Tony cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “Well, if you’re all settled in, I think I’m going to head out now. Breanna, I will get you another tablet so you don’t get bored in here. But only if you promise not to fry the circuits on this one.” I blushed and apologized again. Tony just chuckled and walked out of the room. And then soon after the doctor followed him after making sure that I was all set up.

Then it was just Bucky and me. “I hate being attached to all of these wires. It makes me feel like I’m on a leash or something,” I said, wanting to avoid the dead silence that Bucky seemed to prefer. Bucky nodded, “I know what you mean. I just hate being in hospitals period.”

It was quiet again, so I started fidgeting with my fingers. “Thanks for helping me back there. I didn’t hurt you did I?” I would have felt horrible if I had hurt him. Bucky shook his head and held up his hands. “No, you didn’t. My arm doesn’t conduct electricity like other metals do. So I guess when I used both hands even my other arm didn’t get damaged.” Bucky put down his hands and cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t have cared even if you did hurt me, though. You needed my help.” “Well, I’m glad I didn’t hurt you, anyways. Why do you think my body does that? Do you think this is always going to happen when I’m upset?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek.

Bucky shrugged, “Not if you can learn to control it.” I nodded. “Did you know my parents a lot?” I asked, looking up at him. “A little bit. They worked with me some since I was the most recent person to have the super soldier serum injected in me. They wanted blood samples and CAT scans to see how my body reacted to it.” I smiled at the thought of my parents helping the greater good. In a way, it made me feel like that they were superheroes too.

I started to yawn and suddenly felt all of the exhaustion hit me once again. Bucky chuckled and asked if I wanted him to leave. “No, it’s okay. I’m just tired,” I answered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “I think I should let you sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day,” he stated as he got up to leave.

Without thinking I grabbed his arm and sat up to pull him into a hug. He stiffened at first but then hugged me back. “Thanks again, Bucky. For everything. Really,” I whispered into his ear. Bucky nodded and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, Breanna.”

I lay back on the bed and sighed with content. For the first time since finding out that my parents had died in a car wreck, I felt content and prayed to whoever was listening that the feeling didn’t leave. My eyes started to close, and I fell into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 2

A/N: Well, that’s the first chapter. I really hope that everyone liked what I’ve written so far. Let me know what you think! What do you think is going to happen next? As a reward for making it this far, here is a Bucky pick up line.

#marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #theraputic writings #bucky barnes #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #original character #first chapter #lets see how this goes

[a-casual-egg]

Barnaby bounces his leg up and down, he can’t wait for this meeting to be over. He knows family meetings are important for the company but he doesn’t want to be sitting here listening to his father talk about ways to keep the workers down and in their grasp.

Barnaby looks to the clock to see how much more of his father’s voice he has to listen to before he can leave. 10 more minutes. Ok, he can do that. That’s just 5 minutes twice. After what feels like forever but is actually 10 minutes, his father wraps up the meeting. Barnaby gets up and heads for the door only to be stopped by his father’s voice.

“Why are you in such a rush?” His father asks.

“Oh, um, I have other business I need to attend to.”

“Ah, see this is what you should strive to be like men,” Barnaby’s father says to the other business men in the room and gesturing to him. “Always making sure business is getting done.”

Barnaby nods and takes his leave. He wishes he could tell his father what he actually is doing. He wishes he could tell him anything and confide in him but he can’t. His father is obsessed with reputation and being on top. The family’s reputation would absolutely suffer tremendously if it was known that his son is a criminal and not the normal kind of criminal rich people are.

Barnaby makes his way to Eleanor’s Largely Legal Antiques, stuck in his own head.

Edvard sees Barnaby and catches up to him, “Hey Barnaby, Barnaby? Barnes? Shit-face!”

Barnaby looks to the source of the sound and apologizes, “oh, sorry Eddie. I didn’t know you were there.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Now what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong!”

Edvard gives him a knowing look and Barnaby looks down at his feet.

“Well, I guess it’s the same thing as always.”

Edvard nods understandingly, “parents are assholes”

“And just all the expectations”

Edvard continues to nod.

“I just wish I could tell him everything like other people do with their parents but it’s impossible.”

“Mhm” Edvard says opening a door for him and Barnaby.

Barnaby slumps down into a chair, “like hell, I’d be estatic if he got what is coming to him, like even if that means he dies sooner than his time, but it would absolutely destroy everything if it was all of a sudden, y’know?”

Edvard sits down across from him, “but wouldn’t that be good, y’know if he died all of a sudden? Like his wealth would be distributed-“

“Only to his family.”

“Which you’re a part of! You can get more money and use it for good things, like at least getting better wages for workers.”

“That’d be good.” Barnaby pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, I can’t believe I was as bad as him, thinking I’m better than others just because of my riches.”

A hand is placed on Barnaby’s shoulder and he looks to see who the owner of the hand is. It’s Kasimir. He should have guessed, Kasimir always puts his hand on a person’s shoulder or squeezes their hand if he’s gonna tell them something important or profound.

“Barnaby you were never close to being as bad as him. You’ve never exploited loopholes to pay your workers less or cheated on your partner-“

“That’s because I don’t have one. Not that I would, I’m just saying I don’t have a partner.” Barnaby interjects

“I’m aware your majesty, I’m just giving examples on how you’re much better than your horrible excuse for a father.”

“Thanks.”

This is the meeting he prefers. Kasimir telling them about the heists he’s done in the past and giving the others ideas and inspiration for heists and heist-related things. Giving Edvard looks when someone says a certain thing and watching Edvard cover his mouth so his giggling doesn’t distract anyone, and occasionally failing. This is one of those times.

Lilith says something about ghosts and when she says the word ghost Barnaby looks to Edvard and raises his eyebrows and Edvard just loses it. It’s not even an inside joke it’s just a silly face and it’s not even that silly, but Edvard thinks it’s funny and that’s what matters.

It’s starts with Edvard covering his mouth on instinct but his hands end up holding his hurting sides. Kasimir sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose while Lilith looks around in confusion.

Barnaby cocks his head to the right, “are you alright, dear boy?”

Edvard glares at Barnaby after he’s calmed down in response.

The meeting goes back to normal and it goes by so fast that Barnaby almost thinks it never happened.

He takes a sip from his hip flask as he watches Edvard and Kasimir talk. The girls have left, having important things to do. He’d never say it out loud but he treasures these commoners. He’s happy he met them. He’s felt a lot better since he did. He has someone that can relate to his parent troubles, a father (figure) who isn’t an asshole, someone who can teach him how to punch if he needs to, and someone to teach him about people’s rights so he’s not an asshole keeping people down. He smiles as he takes another sip, content just being around these commoners. Something he’d never think would happen. It’s freeing doing something he’d never see himself doing. It’s even more freeing when that thing is actually something he enjoys immensely.

#oxventure #oxventure in the dark #edvard #edvard lumiere #lilith #lilith capellenaga #kasimir #kasimir jones #barnaby #barnaby fortescue iii #barnaby “the butcher” fortescue iii

[emalynde]

D&D Soap Opera Synopsis 9/10 prequel ft. Arkhein & the DM

((As I’m sure you guys have figured out, my elf boyfriend NPCs are written by our wonderful DM, who also happens to be my husband, Merlon.  This RP gem includes the amazing writing of my partner-in-crime https://arkhein.tumblr.com/, who plays Adryssa.  Check back here if you need help sorting out the characters: http://emalynde.tumblr.com/post/152820810771/dd-soap-opera-synopses AND http://emalynde.tumblr.com/post/156271641901/new-elf-boyfriend-campaign-character-the-oc-of.  Emalynde is disguised as Ilayne, since she’s flit off to Nexus without Thalandril knowing to stir up trouble.)) The cantina of the guild hall was teeming with jubilation and excitement as entire teams of adventurers had returned from their jobs. Creatures of all colors, sizes, and species roamed about the room, enjoying the comradery that they had missed while away. Some had taken up instruments and were playing battle-songs of their exploits. Songs of romance, danger and treasure also rang throughout the hall as skilled musicians put tall tales to the test.

Savid had insisted that he and Ilayne spend breakfast at the cantina--after having spent yesterday practically bed-bound--watching people and things go by. The silver-haired elf had never seen the vast majority of these creatures before, and so was engrossed in watching and learning about them, a penchant the dusk elf was well-aware of.  They had procured a decently large, round table early on in the festivities so that the remainder of their group could accumulate at the table as each awoke. Kasimir, Chelyse, Adryssa, Dak, and Kyr were all eventually shuffled into the seating around the table by the enormous elf as they slowly emerged from their slumber.  Even the angel Gabriel decided to grace them with his presence. Upon spending hours eating and drinking--as Savid does, he leaned in to talk to the group in a semi-hushed, semi-yelling tone of voice that he so loved to use when talking about secret plans.

"Savid remembers that we have plans this evening for the Ball we have decided to infiltrate, yes?" He looks around at the table, his compatriots half full with food as he interrupted what was until then a silent period of feasting. "Savid feels....that taking a partner would be the best course of action, as it would add to the truth of who we are attempting to be!" The towering elf stood up and pushed his chair backwards, slamming it accidently against the hind legs of a large, mantis-looking creature that returned the shove with a clattering of its mandibles. Savid was not sure if it was angry or attempting a mating call, so--with a shrug--he continued, proceeding to bend onto one knee in front of the lovely Ilayne. "Savid would like to know if he could grace you with his presence at a Ball as your partner for the evening." He hit her with his full, beaming grin, one that would be cheesy on anyone else, but he truly thought it was as effective as the rest of him.

The notion of a ball causes the elf with hair like starlight to lift a single, intrigued eyebrow.  She was quite versed in such affairs within the bounds of Evermeet, but the kind of party -this- town might throw… a smirk curls the corners of her lips at the very thought.  Not familiar with the group’s plans for the evening (as far as the cult is concerned), Emalynde/Ilayne bit at her bottom lip in anticipation.  Not only would this be a perfect opportunity to people-watch, but it would also be her last evening here in Nexus and a suitable send-off.  Savid was a charming companion, if a bit… dull intellectually.  He could not play the Game with her, but such a thing was not a requirement for dalliances of this sort.  Even so, Jhanys would be positively beside herself with jealousy, a thought that brings a broader span to the smirk that hovered atop the freckled elf’s mouth. The enchantress homes back into the conversation as Savid kneels before her.  Being unfamiliar with the rather human gesture, her head cants to the side in curiosity, spilling several curls the color of mithril over one shoulder.  Even on one knee, the hulking elf was taller than her seated figure, forcing Emalynde/Ilayne to look up to flash both a winsome and flattered smile at Savid as she understood his intention.  “I would be honored,” she responds in silken tones that constantly skirted being coy.  There was an almost constant playfulness about her person that perhaps gave the impression that the elf did not take many things seriously, although even Kasimir could not discount her intelligent gaze.  She had even managed to impress him with her knowledge of the Astral Plane upon their first meeting.  Shame the same could not be said of their private encounter. Chelyse turns to Kasimir and a look of affirmation passes between the pair.  It did not need to be spoken that the golden elf and her darker consort would be attending the celebration in each other’s immediate company.  They spent the vast majority of their time in such a manner as it was, even selecting an apartment within the guild hall together--sleeping/trancing and living in the same space.  It was a sudden and abrupt shift in their relationship--as the group was well-aware thanks to Savid, but the quiet couple seemed very much enamored with one another.  

The young paladin was thankful that Kasimir did not put on a show about the ordeal as Savid did, but the latter did have a penchant for the dramatic.  And Savid seemed to be enjoying himself with the girl from Evermeet.  Blushing slightly, the fey knight feels ashamed at how well-received and likable the priestess of Hanali was in comparison to herself.  Chelyse couldn’t be charming if she tried--at least not like that.  Ilayne’s easy, melodic laughter floats through the air at one of Savid’s jokes and Chelyse squeezes Kasimir’s hand--content, at least, in his companionship (not even knowing that he’d saved her from a rather petty gesture by the same elf the golden-haired girl was being slightly envious of). “Who will you take, then?”  The gentle paladin inquires of her younger sister, turning to view the smaller, strikingly similar elf better across the table.  Her intonations were kindly and soft, genuinely interested in making sure Adryssa had a companion for the evening if she so desired one.  But the elven girl was also too obtuse to know whom the diviner fancied or was fond of.  It was a gesture of care--for Chelyse, at least, who was admittedly trying to be sisterly to her sibling.  Although that intention manifest in a myriad of ways--not all of which were necessarily welcome by (or helpful to) the youngest Dawnbloom.

Adryssa absent-mindedly sucked down her orange juice, using her straw like a pro and twirling it around with her tongue.  Her mind was swirling with inventory reports, warehouse floor plans, artisan guild agreements, and business ledgers.  So much had happened in the last few days.  She was a legitimate business owner now.  The city of Nexus considered her an actual adult.  Soon, people would be relying on her for their livelihood.  It was exciting and scary.

But what kept on pulling her out of her happiness zone was the incessant giggling of that bubble-brained little drow slut who was flirting with Savid across the table.  Adryssa wasn't sure who the hell she was, or why she was at the table, but it was getting tiresome.  Chelyse seemed to take in dark elves like some crazy cat lady. Adryssa had almost completely purged Savid from her heart - and now this.

Perhaps she was being unfair.  The drow girl didn't seem to be all that stupid.  And perhaps she hadn't even giggled *once*.  But dammit, it seemed like everyone had somebody - except Adryssa.  She took a breath and forced her gaze away from Savid.  No, she had her business.  She was going to throw herself into her work and forget about everything and everyone else.  But suddenly Chelyse asked her about the ball.

"Take?  Who . . ?  The ball!" a look of panic spread across Adryssa's face.  "That's tonight?  I . .  I don't have anyone to take!  I don't even have anything to wear!"  Adryssa suddenly felt like throwing up orange juice all over the table, her eyes wide, staring at Chelyse.  Desperate, unable to form words, she mouthed 'Help me." Chelyse’s eyes widened in a reflection of the diviner’s panicked expression, feeling responsible for the shift in emotion and caring that Adryssa was distressed.  In an effort to calm her sister, the fey knight spoke in gentle, reassuring tones--not even slightly condescending or ingenuine, “Do not fret.  I am sure Kyr, Gabriel, or Dak would be happy to accompany you.”  The smile that spanned the golden-haired elf’s lips was kindly, attempting to both comfort her younger sibling as well as help solve her dilemma. “Or, perhaps someone you’ve an eye on?”  Emalynde/Ilayne smirks somewhat mischievously, clearly insinuating that Adryssa should choose the person for whom she had flirtatious feelings.  While the remaining party members were just fine and dandy, a gnome, a human, or an angel might not be the little elf’s partner of choice.  Not to mention Emalynde/Ilayne took every opportunity to subtly and expertly undermine Chelyse.  The silvery elf tosses a wink at Adryssa, offering her a wide grin of reassurance--essentially trying to provide alternative (and likely more desirable) options.  As well as to ease the smallest elf at the table’s worries.   “Is there someone you fancy?”  Her voice was lilting and melodic, resting her chin atop the platform created by the interlocked fingers of her hands.  “Or someone you enjoy spending your evenings with?”  Emalynde/Ilayne intentionally left her phrasing ambiguous so as to allow the listener to choose whether she was speaking of a dear friend or a lover.  The smirk against her lips was coy and bemused, adding, “And fear not.  We can always venture out to attain proper wardrobe for such an event.  Savid tells me that you design attire.  I assume, then, that I can depend on your tastes to be exquisite.”  Glancing over to the giant dusk elf for effect, the enchantress’ silvered eyes slide back to Adryssa, “Seeing as what handiwork I have been privy to is dashing.”  

Adryssa watched Chelyse's lips as her sister spoke.  Once again, the paladin didn't seem to get the urgency or importance of Adryssa's mind-bogglingly horrible ordeal.  This was the first chance for Adryssa to establish her brand - to show off her handiwork to an audience who would actually understand - and she was flubbing it horribly.  "I . .  yes . . . maybe . . ." she stumbled over her words.

Then the strange drow girl began to talk to her, but Adryssa realized she wasn't a drow at all.  She hadn't been paying attention, instead having just looked at the back of the elf's head and assumed.  And there was something else about her that she couldn't put her finger on.  Something she wasn't quite used to.  The girl was being nice to her.  She was complimenting Adryssa and not treating her like she was an idiot or insane.

"Exquisite? "  Adryssa said as a smile blossomed across her face, her whole body turning away from Chelyse towards the moon elf.  "I do design attire.  I do, I do.  I just opened a boutique and set up my atelier.  I'm in business!  Dawnbloom Couture.  I intend on having princesses and queens as my clientele one day!  I've been really busy, and I'm sorry, because I kind of get the feeling that I should know who you are.  Did we get introduced within the last few days, because my mind has been so busy with the business, I think I am becoming forgetful.  You even kind of look familiar.  Maybe I saw you at the Fairy Market in downtown Leuthilspar on Evermeet, buying a hazelnut butter pie for lunch from a little old lady with a green bonnet on a Thursday?  I'm Adryssa Ellifayne Dawnbloom, by the way.  Nice to meet you.  You are so pretty."

"I . . ." Adryssa looked down at her empty orange juice glass.  "I don't really have anyone.  There is someone I'm interested in, but she's far too important and busy to be involved with someone like me.  She's like, a superstar."

Emalynde/Ilayne smiled slightly as Adryssa turned her attention away from the young paladin, a semblance of triumph stirring in her chest.  Kasimir had forbade any outright harm come to his insipid companion, but he had made no mention of the enchantress utilizing other, more subtle means to exact her ends.  And it was unlikely anyone at the table was well-versed in the intricacies of vernacular and discourse enough to pick-up on the freckled elf’s small, deliberate blows to the fey knight’s esteem.   Growing up in a convent full of women, Emalynde/Ilayne was far too skilled at the covert art of belittling, undermining, and discounting others--all veiled in friendly jest or other such antics.  She had rarely made use of the skillset--it wasn’t really within her nature, but the doe-eyed elf grated on the courtesan like she’d never experienced before.  The blonde had not only taken Thalandril away from her for a time (not that Ema had even been present to feel that effect), but--more importantly--she had hurt him. Chelyse had begun to part her lips in response to Adryssa, but Emalynde/Ilayne cuts her off--the action likely seemingly innocent and unintentional, given that they knew not who the elf with hair like starlight really was.  Besides Kasimir, that is.  Even the courtier was unaware that the dusk elf wizard knew--and had altered her memories to preserve that advantage.  “Worry not,” she smiles enchantingly, “I have been in Nexus only three days now and have left my lodgings seldomly.”  The silvery elf politely declines to elaborate.    

At being complimented, Emalynde/Ilayne favors Adryssa with a winsome, gracious smile, nodding her head in thanks--a movement that causes the smaller curls about her face to bob slightly.  “It is my pleasure... Adryssa, is it not?”  It wasn’t much of a question, but simply elegantly posed as one in keeping with conversational paradigm.  As the smaller of the golden elves deflates, the mithril-haired elf flashes a mischievous grin, “Now, that has yet to be determined.  Come, the only way we shall find out is to ask.”  ((thaaaaat’s a 30 persuasion ;D))   Without waiting for a response, Emalynde/Ilayne rises in a fluid, graceful motion, smoothing her dress against her thighs and hips to encourage the gown to hang correctly upon her slender frame.  She was much more shapely than Chelyse--soft and curvaceous in all the place the gentle paladin was muscled and flat.  It didn’t help that the moon elf was astoundingly lovely ((Appearance 21)), prettier even than the Aasimar.  Casting a glance at the diviner over her shoulder, Emalynde/Ilayne’s lips bloom into that coy half-smirk of hers, beckoning Adryssa along for what the enchantress perceived as an adventure, “Shall we?”     

Adryssa's gaze slowly moved from the orange juice glass to the moon elf.  She didn't notice her sister begin to talk.  She didn't notice much of anything else.  This woman was speaking kindly to her, and it was something Adryssa craved.

"Three days in Nexus and you haven't been outside your room?" Adryssa's eye widened to the point where they crossed.  "But here is so much to see here.  So many wonderful sights.  The architecture is just amazing and there is a floating forest and there are so many different types of sentient creatures it's like a smorgasbord of flesh!"  She said, not realizing that the statement could be taken a myriad of ways.

"Oh, and yes, I'm Adryssa.  It was Clarissa.  But that's my human name.  Adryssa is my elf name and since I'm an elf, that's my name now," she nodded repeatedly with a smile.  The smile grew wider when the moon elf mentioned leaving.

"Oh yes, let's go!  I should show you around along the way.  I have a conveyance.  It's a little cherry red Mephit 9000 XTC that goes faster than a gold dragon and banks better than a broom.  The fire elemental at the core - I call her Petunia - is a speed-a-holic.  Petunia literally SCREAMS around corners.  The bucket seats, you just melt into them.  They caress your whole body.  And ermahgerd, the rumble.  You can feel it deep down inside your . . . insides.   I haven't taken anybody up in her yet.  You could be the very first!"

Adryssa slipped functional, yet classy green goggles from her bag and arranged them around her eyes with a light snap.  Then she followed along with the moon elf, completely ignoring everyone else at the table, including her sister.  "By the way, I think I missed your name again.  What was it?"

Emalynde/Ilayne clarifies, “Actually, I have been outside the guild hall--with Savid on the evening of my first day within Nexus, actually.”  The silvery-tressed elf turns a fond smile toward the half-dressed barbarian, who was seated next to her once more.  “We ventured to the circus so that I might marvel at all the varying races that comprise the population here.  It really is rather fascinating that so many sorts of creatures can call this place home.”  Almost absent-mindedly, the enchantress rests a palm against Savid’s forearm, a gesture of comfort and camaraderie--since she really didn’t know anyone else here.  The fact she only spoke Elvish compounded that.  “But I should be happy for a larger tour.  This must be one of the flying wagons--yes?” Starting to move from the table after giving the remainder a nod of farewell, the freckled elf lifts a silvered brow at Adryssa’s inquiry before her expression shifts into a wide smile, “Ilayne.  I am a priestess of Hanali back within Leuthilspar.”  

Savid was caught off guard as the two young elves decided to move off.  He had been following their conversation, but had enraptured himself in thoughts of what he was to wear at the ball.  Realizing that the ladies were leaving, without him, he stood up and moved off after them.  “Savid thinks it best if he came along.  Two lovely ladies that you are, you would be lost without the guidance of Savid.”  He starts to move up between the elven women, if allowed, and continues in a deep, knowing voice.  “Savid is aware of all of the best shops, owners, and parts of town for this.  Adryssa, you spend so much time working that Savid is not sure that you have seen some of the shops!”   He puts an arm across both girls, one each if allowed, and moves them off in the same direction.  “Plus, Savid will not be outdone.  Savid thinks that matching outfits are in order, as you will match Savid.”  His chisled features town to rather pointedly looks towards Ema/Ilayne, his expression displaying just how serious of an issue it was for the dusk elf; he truly appears to think that he needs to be the highlight of the duo.  “Savid also thinks Adryssa has excellent taste, and could help pick out something spectacular for all of us.”  His grin goes corner to corner as he enjoys the idea of a shopping spree with the girls.

Chelyse watches the trio move away, the silver-haired elf slipping happily beneath Savid’s arm and threading her own about his broad torso.  Her expression was slightly troubled, as if the fey knight felt unsure of herself.  The sight made her miss Aliera, the only real friend she had, and a subtle pang of remorse manifest that she could not relate to Adryssa so.  Chelyse mourned the fact the pair was just so different that it compounded their familial relationship.  Made it hard to communicate and share each other’s company. She turned an almost dejected visage to Kasimir, “Am I difficult to get along with?” she ventures in small, soft tones.  It was quiet enough to not attract the attention of those seated at their table.  “I… do not understand why the many dresses Adryssa possesses are not suitable.  Or… why she cannot simply attend the ball with…”  Blonde tresses shift forward as Chelyse looks at the table, her words trailing away.  Perhaps it was exactly this lack of understanding that formed a rift between the youngest Dawnbloom siblings and made Chelyse not nearly as well-liked or enthralling as Ilayne.  A sigh parts Chelyse’s lips.  She usually didn’t care about such things; it was odd that she gave regard to her appearance and what others thought of her at all.

"The circus?" the be-goggled elf girl exclaimed.  "How wonderful!  Wasn't it just so exciting?  So many different types of people.  Not like back home at all, yanno, where if you have a slightly different eyebrow shape they consider you a different species.  Oh, Savid may not have told you, but he's one of the best circus performers in the whole city."  Adryssa nodded vigorously and winked at the towering dusk elf in a manner that she thought was secret, though looked like more like a four-year old's pantomime wink using the entire head, neck, and shoulders.

Adryssa led the two down several tall corridors until they reached an external foyer connected to a parking structure loaded with flying vehicles.  She handed an invisible entity a red piece of paper, and the paper went aloft towards the parking areas.  "Flying wagons!  Yes.  That's what I called them too.  Here they call them SkyCoaches, which is kind of a boring name."

As they waited for the valet, Adryssa listened to the girl and learned her name and profession.  "It's so good to meet you, Ilayne.  And a priestess of Hanali, really?  My friends Amkissra and Ghilanna from the Bonnalurie Tree were priestesses of Hanali as well!  They said that the were 14th level Guzzlers.  I'm not sure how the bureaucracy works in the church, but that always sounded pretty important.  Fourteen whole levels.  Oh, look!  There is Petunia coming now!”

Adryssa pointed up at the bright red egg that was floating down towards them.  When the convertible hot rod landed, she handed the invisible valet a coin and hopped into the long couch making up the front seat.  "Ilayne, Savid, this is Petunia.  Petunia this is Ilayne and Savid.  Some say that the elementals that power these things are slaves.  But not Petunia," Adryssa caressed the quilted dashboard.  "Petunia LOVES being a flying wagon.  And she LOVES going fast.  And she LOVES to hear songs - the ruder and the more sexually explicit the better.  I know that sounds weird, but she really, really does. It makes her purr sooo loud.  So can you two help me sing to her?"

The enchantress happily sashayed beside Savid as the group of them headed toward this flying wagon of Adryssa’s.  Everything was so unique and in contrast to the well-organized, uniform--although still quite beautiful--Leuthilspar.  Silvered eyes gaze with open awe and curiosity, absorbing every bit of this adventure, her first foray outside of Evermeet. At the notion of Savid being a circus performer, Emalynde/Ilayne turns with admiring intrigue to her companion, but she was surprised to see a pout forming on his chiseled features.  Somewhat puzzled, the courtesan watches Adryssa wink at the giant of an elf, who just seemed to pout more. The discussion became even more interesting as the diviner mentioned the only two wood or wild elves within the priestesses of Hanali.  They were not at the temple much--preferring the outskirts of Leuthilspar, but she knew both.  It took a hand raised to conceal her lips to staunch the giggle that threatened to escape.  There was no such thing as levels within the ranks of Hanali’s priestesses, other than perhaps the standings of some courtesans who made a living from the profession rather than simply serving at the temple--of which Emalynde/Ilayne was one.  The silvery elf declined to tell the girl that the priestesses had been playing with her, though. The timing of the crimson contraption’s arrival was perfect--rescuing Emalynde/Ilayne from any moral obligation toward the truth.  Wonder sparkled in her eyes at the vehicle, cautiously climbing aboard and slipping onto the middle section of the long cushion suspended across the flying wagon’s width, Savid following along behind her.  The enchantress laughs outright, the sound melodic and bemused, at the notion that the car required her to sing.  Never one to not flaunt her own talents, the silvery-tressed elf shook her curls out behind her, straightening to better utilize her diaphragm as Savid lazily rested his arm along the back of their seat behind her.  The elf with hair like starlight begins a mournful melody, hauntingly beautiful, about seeking solace in the arms of numerous lovers after the loss of a true love.  It was explicit, in a way, but mostly heart-wrenching, the sort of ballad that reached into the soul and made one weep.  ((She’s actually trained in singing, so she rolled a 21))

The diviner listened in amazement at Ilayne's song, mouthing the words quietly, trying to commit them to memory.  She stroked the dashboard to the rhythm, and the light rumbling sound grew louder and louder down in the depths of the vehicle.  By the time Ilayne's song was over, Petunia sounded like a two ton metallic cat with an elephant full of cat-nip.  "By Sehanine, Ilayne, listen to that purr!  You've got her going louder than I've ever heard.  And smoother!  That raspy, grating sound in the back of her ventricular manifold is even gone.  Hot damn, she's gonna go faster than EVAR today!"

Adryssa began flipping switches all along the dashboard, turning knobs, priming pumps, and poking buttons.  "Guys, the couch is going to grab you in the privates, but that's okay.  It's how Petunia will keep you from flying out of the vehicle."  A high whine started in the huge, red, steaming kettle behind them.  "Come on Petunia.  Keep it up.  That's a good girl," Adryssa strapped a leather cap to her head, matching the goggles.  "At some point during the trip you may feel dizzy, nauseous, or like you are about to die.  That's normal," she began to yell over the noise.  "See all of these instruments on the dash?  Most of them emit magic to keep us alive.  But even if something goes wrong, Petunia explodes, and I burn to death, my corpse is going to float gently downward for a while, so grab on to one of my arms or legs and ride me until someone can rescue you.  Okay?"

A big red flashing button, the kind that looks like a button you should never press, was mashed under Adryssa's thumb.  Petunia rocketed forward, leaving a trail of fire blazing through the parking structure.  "Yeehaw!" the elf cheered as Ilayne and Savid were slammed backwards by the force of acceleration.  They sunk into the fabric of the couch - which suddenly felt like it was made of salt-water taffy - and were held immobile.  Petunia raced through the air, twirling around other vehicles like they were standing still, and blasted up the sides of building in a mad dash, leaving nothing in their wake except people shaking their fists angrily and cursing them for being a public nuisance.

Adryssa climbed higher and higher, skipping off of the sides of buildings until Petunia hung in the sky, motionless, far above even the tallest tower.  It was silent up here.  Adryssa pulled off her leather cap and her golden hair fluttered in the light breeze.  She looked downward and took in the entire city - the whole mass of color and light and little bitty moving things - all in one view.  She then turned to her passengers - panting slightly, her eyes wide, her breath heavy, her cheeks flushed, and a huge smile on her face.  "Petunia LOVES you, Ilayne.  She's showing off for you!"

Emalynde/Ilayne lets the last note of her melody hang in the air, a final farewell to the tale and the emotions that were engendered as a result.  The courtesan was forced to take a steadying breath.  That particular ballad always hit her more deeply than any of the other songs within her repertoire; it was the enchantress’ favorite.  A confident, contented smile made its way to her freckled visage shortly, somewhat emotionally spent but pleased with her performance.  The vehicle was indeed making noise, and--to an elf unfamiliar with machinery--seemed rather alive.  Trepidatious but optimistic, the silvery elf pressed herself against Savid’s side, unconsciously seeking some sort of protection with that gesture as the noise and shuddering grew. The confidence begins to ebb away slightly, the courtier not looking concerned, exactly, but hesitant--all while still keeping the semblance of a smile upon her lips.  She casts a glance at Savid, searching for whether he was equally skeptical, but the dusk elf leans over with a roguish grin upon his face, spouting off with the intent of being reassuring, “Savid sees that you are uncertain.  Do not be.  Savid shook you much harder the previous evening.  And he makes much more noise.” ((DM’s words, not mine T_T))  Emalynde/Ilayne barks a loud laugh, both tickled and somewhat surprised at the comment.  With a few delicate fingers, she grabs his jaw, pulling the well-muscled elf’s features down to kiss him firmly before releasing her hold--bolstered as to the safety of their travel.  ((rolled a 20 for her reaction XD)) Savid’s encouragement could not have come at a better time, allowing Emalynde/Ilayne to mostly shrug off Adryssa’s various warnings.  The silver-haired elf was excited, one hand clinging to Savid just in case, but no longer worried about their venture’s degree of danger.  As the SkyCoach rockets forward, the force squashes the enchantress into the embrace of the seat cushions, white knuckles holding Savid’s giant mitt of a hand as she yelled exuberantly.  It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, the wind rushing through her hair and buffeting her elongated ears.  A laugh would punctuate their trajectory every so often, delight and amazement implicit in the sound. As the trio banked and hovered a great distance above Nexus, Emalynde/Ilayne realized that the city was just a floating mote.  In her exhilaration, the courtesan attempts to pry herself from the seat, crawling over Savid’s lap to look over the edge--if allowed.  Savid would wrap an arm about the enchantress’ waist easily, securing her into the vehicle should her curiosity get the better of her.  Bent over on her knees atop the dusk elf’s thighs, Emalynde/Ilayne casts a glance over her shoulder at Adryssa, beaming at the fact the fire elemental had taken a liking to her person.  Reaching out with a hand, the priestess pats the quilted dash approvingly, as she had seen the diviner do prior.           

The nervousness that had been welled up inside of Adryssa's belly, hidden but constant, suddenly lifted and she laughed.  Ilayne and Savid had actually liked the mad and hectic ride.  It dawned on Adryssa that Chelyse would have freaked out and started screaming, accusing her of being irresponsible, childish, and insane.  But not them.  She had watched them kiss and did not felt jealous.  She watched Ilayne climb all over Savid with her butt in the air and did not feel ill at ease at all.  In fact, the sight was quite welcome.

"I've come up here quite often since I realized that this was a place," Adryssa started, her voice calm and thoughtful.  "No one is ever up here.  Maybe an occasional bird.  Or flying thing.  Whatever those metallic bees with eight heads are.  But no people really.  It's peaceful and quiet and you can just relax.  It's so high - we might be at least a mile up.  I figured that maybe, if I ever took anyone else up here, that it would be a special event, so I needed a special name.  So I decided that everyone who came up here was going to be a member of the a this very special club.  So welcome to the Mile High Club.  It's a secret, so don't tell anyone."

After a few minutes, Adryssa began to turn knobs and flip switches, causing the hot rod to descend.  "Thank you so much for coming here with me.  I heard what ya'll said about buying some clothes . . . but I can't.  I can't wear anyone else's clothing.  It would betray my brand.  So I need to make my own clothes for tonight.  And I'd be honored if I could make you clothes for the ball too.  Anything you'd like.  Anything you can describe.  It can have images on it - animated images.  Flames.  Clouds.  Woodland scenes with illusory pixies and fairies flying around you.  It could even be see-through at will.  I'm pretty good.  And the two of you would be helping me tremendously be wearing them, since you both are so very pretty.  Could you please help me out?  You can keep the clothes forever!"

Petunia drifted calmly, slowly down - back into the city with it's movement and frenetic energy.  The buildings Adryssa steered them towards were of odd shapes - experimental - avant-garde - artistic.  "The girl I like - Temerity - lives right over there at that shop.  I didn't really forget to ask her.  I just don't think she'd say yes.  She's so busy.  I'm scared that she'll say no.  I just don't know what to do about that, since I'd normally barge over and ask.  But I'm so nervous.  My head has been changing a lot recently.  Ilayne - what should I do?  How can I learn to be so calm and self-assured just like you are?"  The crimson conveyance sat down a block away from the shop.  Adryssa was visibly shaking and she licked her lips nervously, looking at Ilyane with imploring eyes.

As Adryssa begins to speak, Emalynde/Ilayne pulls herself away from her sight-seeing, marveling at the scene below one last time before sliding back into her seat.  Savid left his arm about her waist, giving her a playfully wary look--as if she might bound over him once more.  The enchantress flashes him a reassuring grin, silently attempting to assuage any discomfort, and the enormous elf seemed to relax more.  Silvered eyes watch the smaller, golden elf, nodding appropriately to her words.  “A secret, then,” she affirms, a curt nod solidifying her commitment to confidentiality.   When the hot rod is activated once more, the enchantress nestles back into the seat’s padding, waiting for it to take hold of her, as she entwined her fingers with Savid’s again--not a romantic gesture, but more of a safety assurance.  Silvery brows loft in interest at the notion of having a custom-made gown.  She so very much loved to stand out in a crowd, so a modeling gig was right up Emalynde/Ilayne’s alley.  Biting at her bottom lip, she grinned widely, clearly thrilled at the prospect.  It’s a shame that she would be leaving Nexus in the morning and couldn’t create clientele here.  This would have been the perfect opportunity.  Although, admittedly, she wasn’t quite keen on becoming intimate with all these varying sorts of creatures.    

“Of course!”  The freckled elf would have hugged Adryssa, agreeing to her offer, but Petunia seemed about to take off.  It would probably be wisest to stay in her seat.  The courtesan’s wariness was unjustified, though, given that the car drifted slowly back to the city streets, their trajectory easy and gentle.  Upon arriving at a very creative-looking district, the architecture itself seeming a work of art, Emalynde/Ilayne turns to regard Adryssa as the vehicle slows.  Sympathy veils her feminine features, feeling for the younger elf.  Who hadn’t been in her shoes at one point or another?  Extending a gentle hand, the enchantress attempts to place it against the diviner’s shoulder, “Just be yourself,” she smiles encouragingly.  “Confidence and self-assurance are simply byproducts of practice, dear.”  Her word were calm and sweet; it was obvious that her patience was vast, or perhaps she worked with children.  Growing up in an orphanage and part of a sect comprised mainly of women, it was likely both.  “Worry not; I am sure she would be delighted to join you.”  ((Persuasion 25))  “Would you rather us wait here or accompany you?” Temerity’s shop was small but fierce, decorated tastefully--yet eccentrically--in dark, brooding colors, giving the establishment a mysterious quality.  There was a single, large window in the front of the store, edged with blood red, velvet curtains on the inside.  Each hanging panel of velvet was pulled back and secured to the outer perimeter of the window with a black ribbon.  A few paintings were on display, but weren’t exactly visible just yet.  An ‘Open’ sign hung on the quaint door, which was directly to the right of the display window.  The lighting inside was dim, almost eerie, but slight movement was perceptible within.  

The golden-haired sun elf beamed at Ilayne.  "Thank you for offering to be one of my experiments, and your advice!  Wow.  You are so helpful and wonderful.  I keep thanking you, but it doesn't seem to be enough," Adryssa sighed, then cocked her head.  "You know, Amkissra and Ghilanna from the Bonnalurie Tree taught me how to formally thank a priestesses of Hanali.  We actually spent a lot of time on practice.  Amkissra said I was really good at Thanksgiving because I can grow my tongue out to at least 14 inches, while Ghilanna said that the best features were that it was prehensile and I could make it forked at the end.  I would be happy to formally thank you if you want, anytime.  Just let me know," she said with the respect and piety of a parishioner discussing communion wafers with a Catholic priest.

Adryssa's gaze then moved from Ilayne to Temerity's shop. She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking briefly.  "Yes, I think I'll take you up on your offer.  You can come on up and meet Temerity, and maybe I can get a bit distracted and less nervous."  The elf flipped several switches on the vehicle and stroked the quilted dashboard gently.  Then with a deep breath, she exited and began to walk towards the shop.  She looked back to make sure the others were coming too.

A bell rang on the quaint door as Adryssa opened it, and she peered inside the dark and eccentric shop.  "Temerity?  Helloooooo?  It's me!  Adryssa.  That elf you know."  She suddenly remembered that she was still wearing the emerald goggles and yanked them off her face in a flurry of activity, then nervously pretended there hadn't been anything on her face at all.  An errant strand of hair dangled across her eye, nose and mouth, which she desperately blew at to get rid of, but the stubborn thing resisted.  Adryssa screamed internally.

Emalynde/Ilayne smiled kindly at the elven girl, wondering inwardly if anyone had taken the time to advise Adryssa previously.  Or taken the time to really talk to her.  Given the diviner’s reaction--and the enchantress’ experiences with children, either Adryssa had a great need for attention, or she did not get nearly enough positive reinforcement.   But the silvery elf’s brows loft in surprise and she blinks, lips parting in keeping with her reaction, at the notion that Amkissra and Ghilanna treated the Dawnbloom girl that way.  Of course, there was no such thing as this Thanksgiving or any formal method of giving thanks as a priestess of Hanali.  Masquerading thusly was a slight to the doctrine and their beliefs--as well as the sanctity of their rites.  It was almost making a mockery of them.  She didn’t know the wood and wild elven girls well, but the matron would have to hear of this.  Emalynde/Ilayne herself was concerned, not only for any additional untruths these two were telling, but if they had taken advantage of the sun elf, who looked to be not over 75.  A child. ((Consulted DM for all of that)) The courtesan decided not to mention the severity of the issue--not yet at least.  It would do Adryssa no good to be told these girls were lying to her.  In fact, it would probably make her feel betrayed or foolish--neither feeling would be beneficial toward the trio’s current ends.  Maybe later.  Emalynde/Ilayne took only a moment to return to her light-hearted demeanor, well-practised at veiling her own sentiments, but still worried for the girl’s well-being.  She might have a talk with the pair herself, although Matron Linarralh commanded much more respect than the courtier herself did.  It wouldn’t surprise her if the matron removed the duo from the order entirely, given that they were dealing in minors and falsehoods about the religion. Although offering a warm smile to the smaller elf, Emalynde/Ilayne just nodded her head gratefully, choosing not to comment on the offer of thanks.  Savid exited the vehicle first, helping her from the confines of the car.  It was difficult to not be somewhat motherly toward the poor girl, but the freckled elf did not wish to interfere with the purpose of their outing.  So instead, she rubbed Savid’s back soothingly, although the gesture had been meant for Adryssa.  The older elves followed along silently, watching and waiting.

#D&D soap opera synopses #d&d #d&d 5e #d&d shenanigans #dungeonsanddragons #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dating #Ema writes stuff #Emalynde Ilayne Inara #Adryssa Dawnbloom #Chelyse Dawnbloom #Kasimir Velikov #Savid Velikov #headcanon