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nemossubmarine · 4 years

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Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #37

So after everyone got their interrogations done, our heroes get to spend the night in separate rooms. In the morning Saef and Gorm are picked up to go see their hospitalized relatives. They are met outside the infirmary by a tech-priest by the name of Trixanox, or Trixa for short. She tells Saef everything is alright with Ahram and motions him to go meet him. She then tells Gorm that Uffe is currently under, and she hasn’t yet woken him up, as she heard from the Custodes that Uffe is not a morning person, so she suggests Gorm be there when she wakes him up. Uffe is alright, but needs some organs replaced (kidney and stomach) due to Haemonculus meddling. He’ll be good to go next morning.

Gorm and Trixa go into the infirmary, where there are four rooms, three of which are occupied. The third patient is remains of a Space Marine (like, 1/3rd of a person). Gorm asks about him, and Trixa tells that the man is Brother Leviticus, an Ultramarine who’s body became badly injured in a fight against demons. So now Trixa is making him into a dreadnought. Gorm is very interested in the process and asks if he could watch in on Trixa working. Trixa says sure.

Gorm goes to Uffe’s bedside and gives Trixa the OK to put the waking hormones into him. Gorm notices a camera at the corner of the room, and covers it. Uffe wakes up slowly, making pained noises. Gorm has a steady hand on him, talking to him constantly, and Uffe wakes up not-wolfed out. He’s a bit feeble and disoriented, but still struggles upright enough to bonk his head against Gorm’s. Uffe has some recollections of his torture, and Gorm being there, and Gorm fills him in on the rest, including the fact that they’re on Terra. Gorm tells Uffe not to sleep, which he says he won’t, and Uffe thanks Gorm for getting him.

Meanwhile Saef has gone to talk with Ahram, who doesn’t recognize him, quite understandably, as he has been gone for like 10+ years. Saef introduces himself as a friend of Ahram’s son. They talk a bit, but Saef doesn’t want to talk about everything while on Terra. Ahram asks after a crystal, and Saef says he has one, but again, not on Terra. Saef asks if Ahram knows of any people who might be mistaken for him, Ahram replies that yes indeed, few of those are around. Ahram asks Saef not tell Demir about finding him, since he’s not the one who was around when Demir was a kid, if Saef catches his trift, which he does.

When Saef and Gorm meet up again, Saef asks if Uffe is alright, and Gorm informs him of Uffe’s missing organs. Gorm asks how Saef’s interview was, and Saef says it was fine. They start pondering whatever happened to Gimlet?

They see some custodes coming in to talk with Ahram and Uffe, including Brother Bertran who interviewed Gorm. They ask where Gimlet might be, and he tells that he was taken to talk with the Inquisition, same as Gimlet’s da was taken to talk with the Navigators. Gorm asks if he could perhaps watch or even join the Custodes’ training. Brother Bertran says he is welcome to join them in the evening.

Brother Bertran tells the duo where they may find the Inquisition building Gimlet is at, so the two make their way there, just in time for Gimlet to walk out. Gimlet looks awfully shaken by his interview with the Inquisition. Apparently they confiscated his journal, which Gorm finds rather distressing indeed. He offers to go get it back, but Gimlet very, very forcefully tells him he should not.

The trio shares some text messages they’ve received. Well, mostly Gorm shares, showing everyone a picture that Layla had sent of herself on a mountain, and also text messages that Vivek had sent “something something data disk”, and also Gorm and Uffe need to head to Elucia Vhane’s ship to meet up with Vivek’s brother who can locate Rolf. Saef brings up some disconcerting points about that, namely the last message he got from Vivek was about Inpax following him to Elucia Vhane’s ship. Both of them send “u ok?” texts to Vivek, but neither of them reach Vivek’s phone.

Quite suddenly a woman in psyker clothing approaches our heroes and lets Saef know that since he is a psyker and on Terra, he is going to be sanctioned, tonight. Saef is not thrilled. Gorm is. (two guesses on who told on Saef) Saef asks if it could be postponed, since he is currently studying under this person working with the Inquisition. The woman, named Laverna Lomicka, says that there’s an issue regarding the particular Inquisitor Saef has been overseen by, so it’s easier for the Terran Scholastia Psykana to take over here. Saef still tries to back off, saying he’s not ready, and the woman cheerfully informs him that though usually they take in students younger, Saef is of course free to stay on Terra to study for five years. Looks like there’s no course out of this one. Gimlet inquires about the specifics of the sanctioning, but Laverna says that’s not for outsiders to hear. Saef asks if he can still finish his stuff after being sanctioned and Laverna shrugs and says that it depends on what they’ll think he’s good as. Gorm asks about career options, and Laverna can’t say for sure until they’ve checked Saef, but if he’s good enough he might even become a battle-psyker or even an Inquisitor. Laverna lets Saef know he’ll be picked up in the evening, so better do some praying.

Well, since that is happening only later, Gimlet would like to see his dad, and Gorm and Saef know to tell that the Custodes have taken him to the Navigator’s quarters, so that’s where our heroes head next. In the already luxurious Terra, the quarters of the Navis Nobilitie is even more well-kept and stinks of money to high heavens. Except when our heroes get there, it is surprisingly quiet, and the reason to that becomes soon apparent, as our heroes become witness to a public flocking of a man in the clothes of the Navigators. The flocking is brought to an end by the arrival of none other than the Lord Commander of the Imperium, Roboute Guilliman. Everyone kneels, including our heroes (and Gorm catches Guilliman’s eye while he scans the crowd). Guilliman makes a speech about the Navis Nobilitie’s greed and reminds them of their duties and then leaves. The man is taken away and the crowd disperses. Gorm is having heart palpations over seeing an actual Primarch.

They locate Gimlet’s dad some way away, talking with a younger man in Navigator clothes. This is Espern Locarno, son of Paternova Locarno, who has challenged Valence to a traditional Navigator duel. Our heroes ask what was up with the man being flocked, and Espern tells that the man was attempting to withhold navigators from Guilliman in exchange for money. A very bad move. Gorm says that since Espern has clearly taken Guilliman’s speech against greed to heart, perhaps he would sponsor a good soldier of the Imperium such as Gorm. Espern says sure and tosses him quite a lot of money. Hot damn. Espern leaves the scene, though not before giving Gorm’s arm a slightly lingering pat.

Gimlet pulls his dad aside and asks about the duel. Valence says that is the traditional Navigator way, and he’s hoping Espern won’t kill him, because he hasn’t fought in a while and will surely lose. Gimlet asks for his dad not to die and Valence says he’ll go and see if he could enlist with the Ultramarines. With Guilliman’s speech in mind, perhaps the Locarnos wouldn’t want to anger the Primarch. Gimlet gives his dad a gift, the little brass ring in his beard. He tells him that he has some stuff to do, but he’ll get his dad a phone so they can keep contact. Valence says he’ll attempt to look for other members of the family still out there, so they could maybe get a home somewhere. But who knows.

Gimlet asks Gorm to train Valence before the duel, and Gorm says sure. Gimlet also brings up the fact that Espern maybe had some… intentions about Gorm. Gorm says he takes it as a compliment, to which Gimlet clarifies that he thinks Espern might want to sleep with Gorm. Gorm says that he’s free to want that, but Gorm’s not interested.

They return back to the infirmary to watch Trixa work over Leviticus.While they are visiting Saef drops Uffe his stuff as well. Uffe checks on his phone and Gorm asks if he has gotten any messages from Vivek. Uffe replies that it’s mostly the same stuff, but there is a part which makes him think Vivek might be in trouble. Upon being pressed about it, he says that Vivek reminded Uffe of his promise. Gorm asks, in Fenrisian, what the promise is all about, and Uffe says that in the event of Vivek being turned into a servitor again, he had asked Uffe to kill him. Uffe isn’t too keen on letting Saef and Gimlet know of the fact, but says that if Gorm wants to do so, he can, just maybe not with Uffe in the room? Gorm does tell the duo when they are leaving the infirmary. He wants Saef and Gimlet to agree that since this is apparently Vivek’s will, they would not step in between if it comes to that. Gimlet asks what if Uffe can’t keep his promise, and Gorm says that he’ll keep it for Uffe then. They all agree that since, obviously Vivek is aware that being a servitor can be fixed, so there must be something more to this request. Gimlet points out that there was three Inquisitors on Elucia Vhane’s ship, so any of them (though most likely Inpax) could have gotten to Vivek, and wonders what Gorm would do in case of them being responsible. Gorm says he’s always down to wringing some Inquisitor necks. Gimlet says he has also lost touch with Alex who was with Inquisitor Corrida, so something serious must have gone down on Elucia Vhane’s ship… But they don’t know what’s up, and just have to hope everything’s alright.

And once that is all over with, our heroes go shopping! Mood whiplash, yaay? Gimlet picks out a new journal (from a store his dad recommended), Saef gets clothes, Gorm gets himself, Uffe and Layla matching “I <3 Terra” t-shirts. Saef takes a picture of Gorm on Terra that Gorm sends to Layla’s teacher and Carl the Sable Sword. There’ll be more shopping in the next session, but other stuff too. Until then!

#nemo roleplays #wag rp #wag rp writeup #a lovely vacation campaign #and in the middle this whole convo about uffe having to potentially kill vivek #im a delight at parties why do u ask #but fuck yeah got to toss in some primarch #now will have to see if i manage to stuff him somewhere else for the pcs to gaze lovingly at #mostly gorm i think who's reaction to seeing the primarch was v good #i mean he's a p impressive dude #next sesh some more shopping and other stuff #that's tomorrow!#need to prep some maps and custodes stats #tomorrow tho cos now i need some sleepy sleps #campaign tag: this time with 100 per cent more terra

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wolfromtheisland · 4 years

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Dating Sim: Xantunsia Riveresiana

-------------------------------------RP MEME----------------------------------

• ROUTE START:

As you traverse the wilds, you notice them noisier than usual, the weaker monsters seem to be running away from the direction of the disturbance. You see an S Rank Hunt Mark barreling through the wilderness towards you. Before you have a chance to take action, the beast explodes! No, they are cut through! What stands before you, having gored the beast, appears to be a golden, Ax-Wielding demon! The golden color of its body, or upon closer inspection, body armor, now fighting for dominance with the red blood of the beast it’s wearer just drove through.

This truly menacing, yet surprisingly short personage seems to notice you, and remove their fear-inspiring helm.

“Ah, you weren’t hunting this guy were you? Sorry, I got ‘em first!”

Is how the unmasked Miqo'te greets you along with a beaming grin and an innocent laugh, as if the bloody scene from moments ago was just an illusion

• ROUTE ACCEPTANCE:

"Oh? You wanna tag along on my training?”

She looks you up and down for a moment, thinking to herself before following up

“Sounds fun! You’ve been able to keep up so far, I think we can learn a lot from fighting with each other!”

She harshly slaps you on the back before letting out a hardly laugh

• ROUTE SWITCH:

"Fall back if you can’t handle this fight, I wont have die or endanger other lives here because of stubbornness!”

Her golden eyes burn indomitably, you get the feeling she will remove you by force if she has to.

• MENU INTERFACE, POKE A:

“Hmm? What are doing? Is it a game? Training? Looks fun! “

She presents you with a wide grin and playful laugh(edited)

• MENU INTERFACE, POKE B:

she closes her eyes and twitches slightly at the poke, as if she moved to dodge a moment too late

"Hmmm, an attack with no enmity really is hard to sense coming… Alright! This’ll be good training! Come at me again!"

She says with eyes filled with conviction and a smile presenting her determination

• MENU INTERFACE, POKE (MAX <3):

As you move to poke her, you notice the dodging twitch no longer happens, and it seems your poke always connects a handful of moments before you expect it to as if she moved into it.

"Hmm? Ah, I got a good grasp of your movements now so I decided to change from predicting and dodging to predicting and intercepting…. for no real reason really"

as she looks away as she says that last bit, you catch a bit more pink in her cheeks than usual

• COMPLETED SCENE, + <3:

"We were really in sync in that last battle right?! It felt like just having you there gave me a billion more options and tactics I cant stop thinking about it! So next Hunt what if we-

The shining eyed, blood covered Miqo'te goes on to excitedly rant for a good while about hypothetical tactics and battles, before realizing she hasnt given you a chance to respond. Realizing she got a bit over excited, she blushes a bit before flashing another beaming grin

"ah, but, you feel the same right? You’ll definitely come train with me again right??"

• COMPLETED SCENE, - <3:

“Ahhh, that got pretty dicey, our styles didn’t really match up there. Hmm, no no, that’s no excuse, I gotta be more flexible than that! During their last mistake I should have responded by- “

The Miqo'te, deep in thought, walks off with seemingly no negative feelings towards you. However, the also seem to have completely forgotten you were there.

• GIFT (NEUTRAL):

"Oh I know about this, I’ve already learned a lot about it actually so I don’t really need- “

she looks at your expression and quickly changes her mind

"B-but I could always learn more as I like to say! Ahahaha…"

She gives you an awkward smile

• GIFT (DISLIKED):

"Oh cool thanks, my retainer can probably fetch something nice for this!”

She seems to misunderstand the nature of the gift and can only view it as something intended to be sold away

• GIFT (LIKED):

"Ohhhh! Whats that?? Whats that?? I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Her eyes shine with unbridled curiosity

"Do you mind if I see if for a se- eh? I can HAVE it? No way! Thank you so much!!"

She hugs the gift with a blindingly bright smile and innocently cheerful giggle

• GIFT (YOUR BIRTHDAY):

"Hey hey! I got the date right right? I don’t usually forget important information but I wanted to be extra sure! So here you go! Open it open it! I think you’ll really like it!”

She shoves a gift towards you with an expression sparkling full of excitement and anticipation

• GIFT (THEIR BIRTHDAY):

“Eh? I mean, it’s just a day I picked for myself. It doesn’t really mean anything special."

She smiles awkwardly before looking at you, at the present, and then back to you, as if deciding something. She takes the present after that pause and continues

"But i guess if youre going to remember it, it can become something special"

flashing a more timid smile than her usual wide grin

#ffxiv #xantunsia riveresiana #oc #ffxiv rp #ffxiv writing #my writing #zalera #rp meme #dating sim

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midoriyas-tears · 5 years

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A shit show of a bunch of random word documents I have

[travis x sal fic.doc]

(authors note- this is unfinished. made january 23rd, by me) fandom- sally face

Sal's lips softened into a light loving smile, feeling his boyfriend's body heat with his palm as the taller boy tangled his hands in Sal's hair. He ran his fingers through the light blue curls and tufts and clusters, trying to rid of any knots. Every time the blonde forced through something more severe, it followed with an "Ow" and a "I'm sorry," and then an " It's okay." And then a grin.

Being sat in his lovers lap, Sal began to lay back into his arms, comfortable. Travis lightly nudged him with two of his fingers, so that he can continue to mess with the others hair. Sal moved forwards. "Sorry." He mumbled, smiling at the freckled boy.

"You don't have to apologize.." Travis got through two or three tangles " You told me that you didn't get alot of sleep.. "

"Its fine. I'm not that tired." Sal would speak quietly. Though it was a bit of a lie. He could fall asleep at that moment if he wanted to. Travis adjusted the shorter boy's head to look up at him, and then bent to plant a short kiss on Sal's lips (It was frankly uncomfortable). "You look tired. Please sleep, babe." Travis sighed, and Sal nodded a 'no'-----. "Fine."

Travis knew little about hair. He didn't take care of himself much, and he never got close to any girls or anybody with a good deal of hair. He took a bunch of the blue locks and split it into three sections, like he had seen some girls do at lunch. Sal purred, closing his eyes.

He tried to remember what to do, until his head gave up and his hands unnatrually began to move around the strands. He undid it, restarting. "Ouch."

"Sorry, babe."

" Its fine. "

"Do you know how to braid hair, Travis?" He

When Travis shook his head, Sal moved, letting his body face Travis', but still sitting in his lap like usual. The taller boys freckled cheeks turned a tint of cherry at the position.

[rp starter.doc]

(authors note- its a roleplay starter. made january 29th, by me) fandom- bnha

After an array of cool weather, the air was pleasingly warm, and the sun shone brightly above, covered by puffs of clouds drifting over and swaying about in the sky. The sidewalk was populated with a short series of people, walking slow to the tone of the morning. In the midst of it all, Midoriya was walking to his new school, with his mother. He gripped onto her hand with one, and with tge other he held onto his plain blue backpack, which had a decorative Allmight chain hanging off of it. He really was obsessed, wasn't he? Izuku looked at his mom curiously as they entered the school, nearing the kindergarden classroom. This was a new school. It was exciting to him, so he smiled, but a set of nervous thoughts still crept over his small shoulders.

His mother bent down, getting on a knee and planting a soft motherly kiss on the boys forehead. "Have a good day, Izuku." She gave him a warm smile which he was happy to recognize. "Mommy will see you soon." She stood up, patting him on his fluffs of green hair and leading him into the classroom. Every other kindergardener stared at him briefly.

The teacher grinned at him. "This is Midoriya. Say hello to him."

They pointed to a table for him to sit, "Sit with (insert characters name)." (authors note- lmao)

He followed instructions

[rp starter 2.doc]

(authors note- simular to the last one. created febuary 10th, by me) fandom- bnha

It frankly was not an ideal day to be at the playground. The sky was blue, but was ashen and cloudy-- it would certainly rain soon. The playground was unpopulated and minerature, not featuring much equipment. And the only people there were himself and one or two other kids who didn't bother talking to him. Izuku didn't mind though. He clasped onto the swing he sat on, pushing himself back and forward with his legs. He moved slowly. After a while of swinging, he attempted to call out for his mother to push him, but she was distracted by a book.

Midoriya sighed, a bit defeated. He looked over at the seesaw, wondering if anyone would want to go on it with him. His eyes went to the back of a boy, who seemed about his age. He squinted at the features. Hey, was that Kachaan? He waved to him excitedly, grinning widely at the familiar face. "Hey! Hey!"

[rp starter 3.doc]

(authors note- this ones different. it was originally for a fic, but i copped out. i liked the idea so i made it a starter. kamisero. created march 10th, by me) fandom- bnha

Before he could fully evaluate the situation, Kaminari didn't take much mind to what he and his friends were doing. The freckled blonde sat beside two of his best friends, Mina and Sero, observing as Kirishima placed a half-full water bottle in the middle of the circle. The pink-haired female beside him clasped her hands together, grinning wildly. "Now, this is something I'm excited for"

It was only then, when Denki could realize what he was getting himself into. Sure, he was single. Sure, he was pansexual. He glimpsed over to Sero for a moment, feeling a light brush of pink tint over his cheeks. But if he refused to do it, he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. Especially because Mina knew that Kami liked Sero.

"Before we start," Denki heard Kirishima begin to speak, sitting up, "You have seven minutes. You cannot forfeit unless you're going to shit yourself. I don't care if you're gay."

Denki gulped, and Mina playfully punched him in the arm. She knew why Denki was nervous. Mina suddenly seized The blonde's hand, placing it on th water bottle. "Kami, why don't you start? I mean, you didn't get to do much in truth or dare, so.."

Denki glared at her. Mina was his best friend, and he really appreciated her-- but she was really pushy with revealing all of his secrets. Not like she had ever done that, its just sometimes he wished Mina wasn't the /only/ person he could go to. "Yeah, sure."

He spun the bottle. And, he was taken back, when it landed on Sero. Fuck.

[sfg.doc]

(authors note- lmao this is drunk deku so yeah uhh hes obviously underaged so leave if you dont like that. also a roleplay starter. smh im on sham.chat alot. march 15th, by me) fandom- bnha

It wasn't particularly something he wanted to do. He /was/ underaged, with little experience with the substance. Izuku wasn't actually drunk,was he? He didn't drink too much, did he? Kirishima and Mina had hosted a party during the weekend, not to celebrate anything, just to- do it, I guess. Midoriya, though he had admittedly never been to a real one, came. He did get a loose invitation, after all. He didn't want to be rude and say he had plans, because he didn't.

Midoriya had been sitting on the couch, watching from distance as his classmates sat on the floor to play a game of spin the bottle, which he sat out in. Even if he wasn't sober, he didn't want to kiss his friends. He picked at a soda can with his thumb-nail, squinting while trying to open it. "Eeeh.."

[e.doc]

(authors note- last one. march 17th, also by me. roleplay starter, again. this is kindergarten todo, which i thought would be adorable. even though he probably wouldn't evem go to public school in my opinion) fandom- bnha

Frankly, Todoroki was surprised that his father even agreed with his mother, for once. Even at six, Shoto took notice of the unhealthy relationship his parents shared. He actually wasn't the happiest about going to a public kindergarten, instead of being homeschooled. Sure, he wouldn't have to see his mean father every day, atleast-- not as much. But he didn't usually talk to kids his age, if any at all. He didn't know what they would think of him.

It was the first day of kindergarten. Shoto walked by his dad, quietly. He was a bit unhappy by this, as he didn't want to make a scene in his classroom. His dad was a hero, after all. He didn't really want to be a hero. By how his dad pushed it upon him, it seemed like the hardest job ever. Todoroki didn't know what he wanted to be, but not something like that.

Surprisingly, Endeavor *didn't* go in the class. He stopped by the door, telling him to behave, then leaving, hastily. He didn't really care, though. Its not like he was going to talk to anyone. He sat in a random seat near the back, plopping his backpack next to his seat and watching as a plethora of six-year-olds came in through the door. One of them sat by him. He awkwardly avoided eye contact.

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antagonistchanremade · 5 years

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i feel like talking about knight rider since it’s gonna be in my queue more often from here on out.

so, Knight Rider is a TV show that ran on NBC for four seasons from 1982-1986. it stars David Hasselhoff as Micheal Knight, a former undercover cop (named Micheal Long) who got shot in the face and left for dead after being betrayed, but then was given plastic surgery, a new identity, and a new job: to bring justice to the people in the world who are above the law, the rich and powerful people who cops turn a blind eye to. he works for the Foundation for Law And Government (FLAG), a sub-organization of the Knight Foundation, owned by a guy named Wilton Knight (who is the person Micheal got his new name from). after Wilton dies in the pilot, Micheal’s boss is Wilton’s colleague Devon Miles, and they also work extensively with the mechanic Bonnie Barstow (except for season 2, where she was temporarily replaced by April Curtis), and, in season 4, a sort of sidekick named Reginald Cornelius the third, or RC3 for short.

however, none of them are the real star of the show. sure, Micheal is ultimately the main protagonist, and Wilton, Bonnie, April, and RC3 are all good supporting protagonists, but the real appeal to the series, both to me and to pop culture at large, is the secondary protagonist, KITT.

KITT is a heavily-modified 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am. he’s the most powerful computer, like, ever, not only capable of hacking pretty much anything, but also possessing emotions and genuine consciousness. he has a pair of monitors (seasons 1-2) or just one big monitor (seasons 3-4) on his dashboard for displaying information. he’s got a special coating that makes him practically indestructible, even his windows. he’s got all sorts of unique sensors and equipment. in season 4 he gets the ability to convert into a “High-Speed Pursuit Mode” that lets him drive at like 400 miles an hour. and one of his most iconic abilities is the Turbo Boost that basically lets him jump. he is really god damn cool.

and, like, i like knight rider as a show. but honestly? it’s a dumb action show from the 80′s, for the most part i could live without it. except for KITT. KITT is easily one of my top five favorite fictional characters of all time. he’s just so cool, and could be surprisingly well-written sometimes- he’s robotic enough that you can tell he’s a computer, but also human enough that you can tell he has feelings, and that is a really difficult tightrope to walk. and yet, KITT does it amazingly.

like, i honestly think knight rider would be better if KITT was the main character instead of Micheal. because you very much get the impression that you’re supposed to want to be Micheal Knight- he’s this cool guy with a cool car and he gets all the chicks! but growing up, i didn’t want to be the guy with the cool car, i wanted to be the cool car. especially since i was a nerdy kid growing up, and KITT also happens to be a pretty well-written nerd for a dumb action show from the 80′s.

here’s a Knight Rider AMV that i really like, because it focuses entirely on KITT:

youtube

(and here’s the direct link, in case you’re on my actual blog and the embed isn’t working): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmo1lDGCLis

and here’s a scene from the season 1 episode “Trust Doesn’t Rust”, where KITT is facing off against his evil twin KARR, which i think does a very good job demonstrating KITT’s mannerisms (that i really love):

youtube

(and again, direct link): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvxXXjwhCyY

i love KITT so much that i actually run an RP blog for a version of KITT from an AU where there’s no Micheal (because KITT was designed to be the crimefighter instead of the crimefighting tool), and where she’s a transwoman (because i can do that). the link is on my blog, it’s pretty prominent.

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goldanddeceit · 5 years

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Screenie from a rp today! Logs from the other rper because my LS exploded mid rp. x-x

Giselle Lockhart opens the door, the music ringing pleasant in her ears. "Ooh, I could get used to this." she said to herself, as a couple patron tilted their heads to the door. The merely nodded as though familiar with the red-headed newcomer. "Evening, gentleman! Good to see some familiar faces." she giggled quietly under her breath. "Any of you know the proprietor of this establishment?" she stood in silence, shaking her head. "Tsk..Want a job right, do it yourself huh?" she rolled her eyes. Giselle Lockhart walks to the bar, ordering a glass of red wine, before heading downstairs.

Orianna Chant sat in the back of the club, delicate fingers holding the mouthpiece of the hookah as she watched a performer on the stage. Voices drowned out by the music and song, bi-colored orbs flickered to the unfamiliar face that treaded down those stairs into her domain. Curious.

Giselle Lockhart ran her two gloved fingers over the rim of the glass as she looked towards the stage, her head lightly bobbing to the song. "I could /really/ get used to this..." she looked around through the dimly lit room, trying her best to make out any semblance of Platinum blonde hair, before her eyes fall on the Hookah table. "Ahh--Now we're getting somewhere!" she walked over, nodding her head. She spoke up a bit, as her voice would otherwise be drowned out. Giselle Lockhart: "I'm quite disappointed it took me until long to come here! I feel like I've missed out!" You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant did not let her eyes fall from the woman as she watched her with mild interest. New people were always regarded with a cautious curiosity and as the woman's attention fell over to her, a smile drew up on the curtain of her lips. "Now you've found it, so welcome to the club." She surprisingly didn't have to try to speak above the song, long use to having to do such it was second nature to her. Orianna placed the mouthpiece to her mouth taking a long drag. Giselle Lockhart motioned with her glass to the Hookah on the table. "You know, it's not often I see one of those things around here. Probably cost you a pretty penny!" She took a short sip of her glass, eyeing the sofa before her gazed turned to the Miqot'e, waiting until she finishes her drag of the hookah before she spoke. "Orianna, correct?"

Orianna Chant inclined her head silently puffing out smoke. "Money isn't a concern." She shrugged then catching the woman eyeing the sofa would gesture for her to take a seat at her leisure. "You'd be correct... Who might you be?"

Giselle Lockhart walked over, shimmying by the table to sit kitty-corner from Orianna, placing her drink upon the table, along with her hat just off out of the way. "Surprisingly our paths haven't crossed thus far! Giselle Lockhart, I'm not quite sure if you've heard of my name." she gestures to the hookah carefully. "May I?"

Orianna Chant paused as she took a seat, the name was familiar. It only took several moments before it rang clearly in her head. "Your name has been tossed around a couple times." She would tap her clawed finger against the mouthpiece before handing it over to the hyur. "What brings you hear? Enjoying the music, trying something new?" Business most likely but why jump the gun.

Giselle Lockhart takes hold of the mouthpiece, reaching in to her pocket to grab a lighter purple handkerchief to wipe it down quickly before taking in a shorter drag. She holds it in for just a moment before letting out, a small cough along with it as she puncher her chest. "Been a--Bit too long since I've tried that." she retorted. "I've been working on a job that's been /oh too/ stressful, figured I'd find somewhere to unwind and perhaps talk a bit of shop." she continued-- Giselle Lockhart: "Then I come to find a member of the esteemed Chant family took over a place like this...I have to wonder why that is!" Giselle Lockhart: "Surely you don't need the money, no?" You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant let out a short giggle at the woman's failed attempt at the drag. She'd find the flavor to be mint. A blonde ear cocked casually in her direction as she explained to indicate she was listening. "Everyone needs a hobby no? I'm sure you have a couple according to the saucer." That pleasant smile curved to a smirk on her painted lips. Orianna Chant laughs at you.

Giselle Lockhart: "What's life without a little chance?" she giggled, attempting another drag of the hookah, this time managing to actually keep it down before pulling it away, rubbing it down with the handkerchief and handing it back. "Then I come to notice, you've been upping security quite a fair bit here..." she raises a knowing brow to the Miqot'e. "Patrons that rough, hm?" You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant: "Life without risks is quite dull." She would accept the moutpiece back holding it in her fingers as she let the silence linger. "Some people who don't belong here like to cause some trouble... got to keep out the riff raff." She winked, one sea green eye still on the red head. "This place does have standards to keep." Orianna Chant winks at you.

Giselle Lockhart speaks a bit more hushed, hoping the Miqot'e to be able to hear her. "And I take it the alleged alchemical work offered surely would have nothing to do with it?" she teased, reaching for her glass and taking a sip. "I was hoping we might be able to talk a bit about that line of work."

Orianna Chant kept her unreadable facade up as Giselle mentioned her more private work. Her tail flicked subtely against the cushion of the sofa. "People talk all kinds of rumors when inebriated." Nonchalantly she waved it off setting the mouthpiece down and picking up a glass that had been sitting on the table. A concotion of unknown alcohol and fruit. "Let's say it's true, what /poison/ are you after?"

You disagree with Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant: "Something wrong with drinks?" She asked swirling her glass before taking a sip.

Giselle Lockhart: "Not quite the poisons I'm after. It's more of a...let's call it long-term proposal." she giggled quietly, rolling her finger over the glass rim once again before taking a sip, her lipstick leaving a mark on the glass. "I happened to have run with a group of people a long...Long time ago who despised the use of poisons. We ended on..." she pursed her lips in thought. "...Poor terms. I figured because of that, I'd do my own research. I've contacts I feel might be beneficial for someone who-- Giselle Lockhart: may be in that line of work." She smiled, nodding. "That, and I've been wanting to wiggle some leeway back in to the Ul'dahn scene. I never was one for clubs until recently." You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant: "You have my attention." She sipped quietly at her drink. "Deals in this end rarely end on good terms after awhile... shame really." The woman needn't the full story to know in at least Ul'Dahn circles many would stab your back for another step up the ladder. "You've been out of the Ul'dah circles for long? What new contacts could you bring to the Arcana that I haven't scooped up already?" Her gold banded tail flicked against the sofa again. "You hadn't found the right place, Honey." She-- Orianna Chant | gestured to the stage as the performer finished up their act. The music quieting down between acts. "There aren't many places in the city that cater to our kind of people."

Giselle Lockhart smiled, finishing off her wine and setting the glass down. She spoke quite forthcomingly, as if the information she had had no real bearing on her. "I've ins with several members of some lesser-liked circles of botany in and around Gridania. That's the thing---" she held her hands out wide as if to mimic the breadth of knowledge. "You have to think larger than Ul'dah! I haven't been around much because I've been focusing on footground in the other city-states. The things these botanists--- Giselle Lockhart: offer tend to be a bit tricky to come by, and might help expand your potential options in terms of what you can provide in terms of potions and...Well, let's call it 'Elixirs of negative effect'." she smirked at her own joke. "Plus, I've contacts in and around Ul'dah and Limsa that might be able to help increase the variety of performers you have around. Variety is the spice of life, after all!" Giselle Lockhart: "Not to mention my little brother tends to make it easier to convince the flames to turn a blind eye every once and a while." You wink at Orianna Chant. Giselle Lockhart: "Just don't tell him I said that." You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant laughs at you. Orianna Chant: "A line to the botanist guild would be very useful for my line of work. I trust should demand pick up you would be able to meet it?" She reached up to brush strands of blonde hair from her face. "Your connections in Limsa? Just performers or should one assume sailors with sticky fingers?" She grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the faint blue light. Her remark of having connections to the flames was interesting.... Useful should things ever get dicey.

Giselle Lockhart: "Well, initially I was only going to suggest performers, but if sticky fingers is what you need, I can probably figure something out. If it's limsan-based, surely I can find people who might be able to send supplies under the cover to anonymity should it be needed! Provided it doesn't require trade from the east after all."

Orianna Chant raised a brow at the comment of the east. "Why not the east?" Giselle Lockhart shakes her head, speaking remarkably quickly. "I don't deal out east." She goes to reach for the wine glass, forgetting it to be empty. "Ahh--Just a personal preference of mine. I find it easier to operate on a single continent." You smile weakly at Orianna Chant. Orianna Chant didn't believe it but made no further comment. "It's not a concern then." She brushed it off. "I have my own connections with the east. Not just a one city-state girl." She smiled innocently.

Giselle Lockhart nodded, placing the glass back down. "Thank you for understanding. Do we have a deal then? To be honest, I'm quite interested to spend a fair bit of my time here. The gold saucer has become /oh so/ tedious." You laugh at Orianna Chant.

Orianna Chant deliberated for a moment before her shrewd gaze would focus a bit more intently on the woman. "What would you gain from this transaction?" Curiosity killed the cat... "Money, connections or are you something else?" But Satisfaction would bring it back.

Giselle Lockhart lifted a coy smile upon her lips. "Now that you mention it. All I'm desiring is small. The connections alone are one of them, and as of recent money hasn't been an issue, though a small--" she pinches her index finger and thumb together "---percentage of the clubs profit would be ideal. The connections might help me with a job I have going on right now."

Orianna Chant gazes upon you in deep reflection.

Giselle Lockhart: "And before you ask, I don't particularly require a cut from the side business. Full disclosure, I'd make profit off of the supplies you'd get from my connections." You laugh at Orianna Chant. Giselle Lockhart: "No need to needlessly double-dip!"

Orianna Chant smiles at you. Orianna Chant would extend a gold clawed hand out to her. "Then I find this suitable terms to our deal." She rolled her shoulders. "I will arrange with my book keepers to make sure you are compensated. Is there any other business from you I should be aware about?" When Giselle shook her hand it'd be firm, assertive for the doll-like miqote. Once they shook on it she'd set her hand back in her lap. Giselle Lockhart accepts the hand shake whole-heartedly. The hand would feel surprisingly dainty despite the womans overall more masculine attire. Her entire structure even seemed like a dolls body surrounded in a wodden box for attire. "None at the moment. after this I'll probably go sit closer to the stage, soak up the sights." she smirked slightly. "Night's still young after all! Here--" she reaches in to her coat and pulls a piece of parchment out, writing on it and handing it over. "My linkpearl-- Giselle Lockhart: should you require it. I will see to it my contacts in Gridania expect a heightened workload."

Orianna Chant accepts the paper, folding it neatly and sliding it into a pocket. "Perfect." Orianna would begin to slide up from her seat, eyes connecting with a server to clean up the table. "Enjoy the night then, I have some further business to attend to." She would give a short carefree wave, completely at odds with her dress and demanor. "I look forward to working with you Giselle." Orianna Chant bids farewell to you. You nod to Orianna Chant. You bid farewell to Orianna Chant.

#orianna chant #giselle lockhart #ffxiv #ffxiv rp #jenova #jenova rp #miqote #sun seeker #seeker of the sun #hyur #midlander

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askmsmowz · 6 years

Text

Let’s Hope This Mask Can Hide Me

( This is an archived RP between me and @thekoopacosmetologist. This plot takes place in between “Haircut Gone Wrong” and “Babysitting Breakdown. Writer changes between every cut. Cheers!)

Ms. Mowz dashed into room, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. A quick glance at her phone revealed she was over 30 minutes late. (In her defense, she DID have to work today, and getting on this long, flowing gown took much longer than she expected. ) She took a quick glance around before deciding her first stop really ought to be the refreshment table. After all, she’d been running since she put this dress on, and that had to have been an hour ago by now. Expertly, she weaved her way in between guests, and poured herself a cup. She allowed herself a minute to just relax and enjoy this drink before she opened her eyes.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t.

Almost directly in front of her, she spotted Shelly. Luckily, she was in another conversation, so there was no way she could’ve spotted her. Still, that was enough to make Ms. Mowz’s heart pound. It’d only been a few days since the, ah, incident at her salon. And she was still completely and utterly embarrassed about it. She quickly decided that it’d be best for her to wait for Shelly to notice her, if she ever did, and pretend like she simply hadn’t seen her there. It was a big enough place, that was completely reasonable.

Instead, she quickly turned and walked towards the table by the entrance. It looked like something was going on there, and it couldn’t hurt to check.

Ms. Mowz was able to avoid being noticed for a while, but her luck wouldn’t last forever. About an hour later, after enjoying another waltz, Shelly spotted someone in an elegant dress that she immediately recognized.

After all, mask or no, there was no way she wouldn’t recognize that cute pink bob that she herself created.

“… Ms. Mowz?” Shelly called out, walking over to the squeek, “Oh, it’s good to see you again! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

I just hope she just doesn’t panic after last time… she thought to herself.

Ms. Mowz made a noticeable jump when she heard Shelly say her name. She turned to see that the Koopa was, in fact, walking straight towards her. Meaning, she lost her chance to sneak away. Oh, boy….. She did her best to regain her composure, and even managed to squeeze out a smile.

“Oh, Shelly hi! Yeah, I decided to come last minute, ha ha… How have you been?”

At least she didn’t sound suspicious. And her mask did a good job hiding the fact she was struggling to make eye contact… She desperately hoped she’d spot someone she knew so that she could cut this conversation short, but of course, she couldn’t find anyone.

Well, guess she was staying for a while.

Even with her masquerade costume concealing much, Shelly could pick up on the signs of discomfort - Mowz had worn a mask for a good amount of the time Shelly knew her, after all. Still, at least she didn’t panic and bolt immediately… Always a good first step. She just had to choose her next words carefully.

“I’ve been good! I just wanted to make sure you’re still okay after… you know… what happened the other day.”

… Or not.

“… I mean… Have you been enjoying the party?”

Ms. Mowz could feel her heart slowly drop into her stomach.

“Oh, great, I really have made things awkward between us! Great going….” She berated to herself. She’d confessed having feelings to, well, lots of people that were unrequited, but that was the first time she’d ever had such a….scene. Was there anyway she could recover from that? Just judging by how Shelly was acting, no seemed to be the answer.

It took her a moment to realize that she still hadn’t actually answered Shelly’s question, so she finally said something.

“Oh, yeah, uh, the party’s fine! I just bought some raffle tickets and had a nice chat with the girl running the booth! And, yeah, um, everything’s fine! I’m doing just fine!”

The whole she spoke, she was nervously wringing her hands together. At least her attire mostly hid the beads of nervous sweat she felt all over.

Shelly nodded and did her best to look interested, but she could pick up on the small signs of Mowz’s discomfort… or at least, she thought they were signs. Maybe she was just over-thinking it? Goodness, who knew relationships could be this complicated?

… Or… well… not that kind of relationship. Maybe. Oh Miyamoto, this was such a mess…

“Well, good to hear you’ve been fine and you’re enjoying yourself! I had a chat with the raffle girl as well… Isabelle was her name, right? She seems like a good kid. She clearly has good taste if she enjoyed chatting with both of us!”

Shelly attempted to laugh at her own joke, but even that came out unconvincing. Awkward…

Ms. Mowz seriously could not think of anything else to say but a mere “Yeah”, and even that trailed off about halfway through. For a minute, it was all she could do to just look at her, not even with eye contact! There was music playing, and people talking, but the silence between the two of them seemed to completely mask any and all sound.

She started biting her lip. Oh, grambi, she couldn’t take much more of this. Someone had to say something, and, well…. It looked like it was going to be her.

“Shelly….”

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but she was certain the koopa could hear her.

“Shelly, I-I’m sorry… I… I knew telling you would make things…. weirdbetween us, but I…. I did anyways, and I’m…. I’m sorry. L-look, I don’t…. I don’t want to ruin your night, so, um….. Y-You can just forget you even saw me here, okay? I-I won’t mind! Really….”

Even though her eyes were hidden, it was completely obvious she was crying by her tone and body movements.

Needless to say, Shelly picked up on everything Mowz was saying. Her forced smile quickly morphed into a look of pained sympathy.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I just… Nothing you could do would ruin my night, but I don’t want to ruin yours, either.”

She inhaled sharply, possibly trying to hide her own confused emotions.

“I… We should wait until that hang-out we have planned to talk more. I don’t… I shouldn’t try to rush you or make awkward attempts to make sure you’re okay before then. I’m sorry.”

Ms. Mowz sadly shook her head, tears finally revealing themselves.

“"We don’t….have to do that, if you don’t want to… I mean, you probably think I’m….you know….Look, I don’t….want you to do anything you don’t….want to….I’ll…” She sobbed, trying to stop her tears. When she had no success, she figured it’d be best if she just walked away. “I’ll be fine, really, I’m just-” She went to take a step backwards, and was quickly reminded of something.

Her dress was longer in the back,and her tail was tucked inside of it.

Of course, she stepped right on her tail. Of course when she stumbled, trying to find steady ground, she just stepped right back on her dress, and started falling forward. She couldn’t catch herself. Her mask slid right off her face, and she braced herself for impact with the floor-

Running entirely on reflex, Shelly let out a surprised gasp and rushed forward to catch Ms. Mowz. The good news was that she succeeded, preventing the squeek from faceplanting onto the floor.

The bad news? She was now instead being fully embraced by Shelly, her head resting on the koopa’s shoulder.

And the band had just started up the next song.

“… … !!!”

At least they were only on the very edge of the dance floor, so quickly shuffling off undetected was still possible for the two of them… if they wanted to.

… Though given the huge rush of emotions Shelly was experiencing right now, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Ms. Mowz was so embarrassed by what was going on, she just froze in place for a few seconds. She knew she couldn’t say like this forever (even if it felt…really nice), so she pulled away from Shelly’s shoulder, and slid her mask back on. Shelly still had her arms wrapped around her, like she also had no idea how to react. Ms. Mowz thought about nudging her out of the way, but….

She didn’t want to.

Instead, she sheepishly held out her hand, and asked a painfully simple question.

“M-may I have this dance?”

While her mask and makeup did an excellent job covering up how hard she was blushing right now, they did nothing to conceal her small, sheepish grin as Shelly looked in Mowz’s eyes (not that they could look much elsewhere, given how close they now were).

“I-I… Don’t see why not?…”

Ms. Mowz couldn’t help but notice the smile on Shelly’s face, and that eased her a bit. She still wasn’t sure if asking was the right thing, but…

The two quickly adjusted themselves into a proper waltz stance (er, well, as close as they could get, at least. Ms. Mowz was a bit too short for it too be photo accurate, but she tried. )

After only a brief second of awkward stumbling, they gracefully moved around the dance floor, ( nearly ) perfectly synchronized with each other and the song. It was almost magically, really. The song felt a touch… Too long, but Ms. Mowz managed to get through it without embarrassing herself- That is, until for whatever reason, she completely forgot all about the context of the situation and totally dipped Shelly in the cheesiest way possible at the end of the song.

In that moment, her face was so red, it was impossible to tell where her mask started.

Shelly couldn’t quite understand how this had happened. And yet, it was happening.

Stranger still, she didn’t care.

She too got swept up in the music, dancing alongside Mowz with surprising ease. Shelly didn’t know why, but somehow, this just felt… right. Very right. Maybe… Maybe she was falling for Ms. Mowz after all?

Her thoughts would be interrupted as the song ended and she found herself suddenly dipped far back. She was afraid she was going to fall over completely, but Mowz’s grip on the koopa proved to be surprisingly strong. All she could do was look into Mowz’s eyes and smile - genuinelysmile - as the squeek turned bright red.

“You’re… You’re quite the dancer, Mowzie.”

And there was that nickname again, this time said with far more than just a hint of affection as Shelly started to bring herself back up, her face once more getting quite close to Mowz’s…

“Oh, thank you, you’re quite the dancer yourself~” Well, that….came out much more flirtatious than Ms. Mowz had wanted, but, it almost seemed….fitting. Even still, the squeek found herself unable to move away (or closer) to Shelly, and just sort of….froze in place.

She took a quick glance at the clock, revealing it to be 11:58. The year was almost over… She found herself lost in thought, and that thought wound up coming out her mouth.

“It’s almost midnight…. I wonder how many people are going start the year off by kissing….”

Shelly also looked between Mowz and the clock, seemingly surprised at how it could’ve been almost midnight already.

“Huh, so it is… I guess time flies when I’m with you!”

This time, it was Shelly’s turn to sound more flirtatious than intended. She turned back to Mowz, laughing nervously under her breath.

“So… Uh… Was that just an inquiry or an invitation?… I mean, if you WANT to… I guess… Maybe we could…”

11:59

Ms. Mowz’s face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but she felt more embarrassed than she had at any other point that night.

“O-oh, I was just thinking aloud! Unless you- No, never mind, I shouldn’t…” She trailed off a bit, and her tone got a hint sad at the end.

She decided it’d be best to help Shelly get back up on her feet, and the two ended up holding hands at the end. By accident. Or…. Was it? Either way, Ms. Mowz found herself….not wanting to let go. She pulled her gaze away from Shelly’s face to look at the clock.

30 seconds left.

29… 28… 27… 26…

As she stood there, Shelly realized that she didn’t want to let go either. She found herself gazing at Ms. Mowz even after she looked away to glance at the clock.

21… 20… 19… 18…

There was no denying it any longer: She was truly smitten with her. More than just out of sympathy for her previously unrecuperated crush. Shelly might’ve always been a little bi-curious, but it wasn’t until now that she knew someone who pushed it beyond just a girl-crush. Someone who she could see herself in a true, honest relationship with.

15… 14… 13… 12…

But would the feeling last? Or was it doomed to be just a fling? After what she already put her through, Shelly didn’t want to crush Mowz’s hopes again.

10… 9… 8…

Was she willing to take the risk? To possibly devastate the squeek even more in the search of a legitimate romance?

7… 6… 5…

She could walk away… She knew Mowz wouldn’t fault her for it. But looking into the squeek’s eyes, that wasn’t all she knew. As the final seconds ticked down, she knew…

4…

She

3…

Loved

2…

Her

1…

As the clock struck midnight, Shelly pulled Ms. Mowz in, embraced her tightly, and kissed her. Not just a friendly peck or a flirty smooch, but a full, tender kiss. One to let Mowz know that her feelings were not in vain, and that she - fully and truly - loved her in return.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

As soon as the kiss ended, Ms. Mowz immediately jerked backwards and clamped her hands over her mouth.

That didn’t….really just happen, did it? She didn’t…..Initiate that, did she?

Ms. Mowz’s eyes sparkled; she looked simultaneously delighted and horrified. Her heart was pounding so hard, it seemed to drown out all other sounds. She stepped backwards a few steps, her hands shaking over her mouth. After a few seconds of shaking, she spoke.

“C-can we….please sit down for a second…..?”

As Shelly opened her eyes again, she found herself face-to-face with a trembling, conflicted Ms. Mowz. Whatever excitement she had before was now replaced with concern. Was the kiss too far? It was what Mowz was hoping for, wasn’t it?

Shelly didn’t even need to give a verbal response, instead simply nodding as she (gently!) held Mowz and escorted her away from the dance floor to find someplace to sit down.

“… I’m sorry… I… I should’ve asked first…”

“No, no, it’s not that! It’s just, I, uh, you, we, that was-” Ms. Mowz tried to make eye contact with the other, but as she kept stumbling over her words, she opted to look down at the floor. She fidgeted her hands quite a bit, struggling to find the right thing to say.

“You…..really….didn’t have to do that for me… I… I’m sorry….. I don’t… I really don’t want you to……feel obligated to do things like that- I shouldn’t have even brought it up- if you don’t like me, well, you don’t, and you,…..don’t have to try to….. O-okay?”

She bit her lip, and bent her head down.

Shelly reached out, gently cupping Mowz’s chin in her hand before raising it back up so she could look her in the eye.

“Mowzie… It’s okay. I do like you. You’re… You’re beautiful and funny and caring and I never realized it until now because I never considered being with another girl before. But now… Now I know. I want to make this work because… because I love you.”

Behind her mask, Shelly looked to be on the verge of tears herself, but she seemed almost… happy. As if she was relieved to finally say those words out loud.

Ms. Mowz let out the tiniest gasp as Shelly gently caressed her face. She found herself unable to look away, or say a single word. As the other spoke, her heart pounded faster and faster. It got to the point that she gripped her chest, genuinely fearing it would fall out otherwise.

But the second Shelly said the ‘L’ word, it stopped entirely.

Seconds passed as she tried to process what she’d heard. Did she really say love? Did she….really say she loved her? The mask made it hard for her to see Shelly’s eyes, but… The answer seemed to be yes.

Her eyes immediately swelled with tears as she pulled Shelly into a powerful embrace.

Prior Tale || Continue the Story?

#Plot #Let's Hope This Mask Can Hide Me #Long post #SORRY MOBILE USERS

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nanbatrash · 6 years

Note

Why u never share headcannons ;u;

Oh haha.. well I dunno. I’m rarely asked about them. Plus I have tons upon tons.

Which all go into about five different aus I have. ((I have only shared two because the other three are fucked up and no one wants to see what kind of twisted shit I come up with))

Flower/ Coffee shop au

And the one concerning my oc. ((My friend likes to call it FloofBirdverse, because she’s obessed with calling Thia a fluffy bird, because in the beginning she was loosely based off a very fluffy canary that my oma owns))

So I guess I might share a few head canons for both just for giggles.

Flower/Coffee shop

- Everyone in the flower shop takes turns to watch Upa for their boss while working because they know he cannot afford to pay a babysitter. ((Plus, who wouldn’t want to watch that little bitter bundle of cuteness))

- Qi had a one night stand, thus creating Upa, and they tried to make it work, but they just had no chemistry and eventually she walked out.

- Trois got banned from going near the coffee pots and machinery due to a small incident involving him trying to “upgrade” them to his liking.

- Liang has a little school big crush in the flower shop’s owner, but shhhh don’t tell Hajime. Qi returns these feelings, and shows it by wearing a peach colored flower pin on his uniform.((Note: All members of the flower shop have their own flower pins if choice on their uniforms. It could be a rose, daisy, tulip etc. I’m pretty sure I’ve said this somewhere))

- Inori is a guardian of sorts to Youriki, Rokuriki, and Kokoriki, who are about highschool senior/college age in this ah.

- Kiji and Ruka used to date but had a falling out of sorts.

- Enki is in this Au, and doesn’t go to prison, but actually a correctional facility. He and his brother reconcile, though it takes Samon a little time to fully trust him again. Enki now currently runs his own little mini Dojo.

- Liang officially meets Qi at the dojo, where he’d go to train. Qi would be taking Upa there after he expressed his interest in martial arts. ((When Upa would watch his little ninja cartoons and then would try to mimic certain scenes, often times pretending Qi was the enemy))

- Uno likes to play the flirty waiter, often times competing with Honey in contests to see who can get the lady’s numbers faster. ((Though Uno’s heart will only ever belong to Jyugo))

- Nico is Mitsuru’s godson, who’s parents passed away. Nico still went though all the human experiments, and was quite broken when finally brought to Mitsuru. Tsuru has been patient and very loving towards Nico, helping him find his coping method in anime, taking him to various cosplay conventions and anything related. He hoped giving Nico a job as a bus boy would be a good lesson of responsibility for Nico, and thus far, has been a great thing for him.

- Hitoshi is currently in Hajime’s care, as their parents are always in business trips. ((Being workaholics runs in the family it seems)) Always having been left alone most of the time to care for himself and Hitoshi, Hajime developed a strong sense of sterness. He’s still a great brother to Hitoshi, not showing his love often, but when he does it’s usually meaningful, but short spent. Hitoshi is by far more easy going, not having had such a responsibility filled child hood like his brother. Their parents send them presents on holidays and pay the house bills. All the money Hajime earns is saved up for Hitoshi’s surgery. Both are hush hush about it to their parents.

- Honey and Trois are in a frenemys with benefits relationship, but as time goes in they become something more.

- Both shops once got in a war that ended with smashed flower pots, cups, and coffee stains alp over the side walks. Customers were traumatized.

- Unbeknownst to Tsuru, Kuu is the coffee shop’s resident mascot. He draws in a LOT of customers. And surprisingly for a long haired cat, rarely sheds.

That’s all I’ve got for right now for the Flower/Coffee shop. I need a witty name for this damn it.

———

And some headcanons for my oc because I rarely explore her headcanons.

- Fiercely over protective mommy who would adopt anyone and everyone if she could.

- Absolutely loves the smell of anything fruity. Unfortunate for Qi because he had to use green apple body wash for a while. Needless to say, he was ambushed a few times.

- Loves the bite. She has a mouth of razor sharp teeth, unfortunate for anyone who wants to do anything intimate with her.

- Dom as hell despite her quiet exterior.“God damn, it’s always the quiet ones that are into the kinky shit.” Quoting Qi from a role-play with a friend.

- 10/10 best kooky old grandma. Absolutely spoils her grandchildren. Plus always somehow has candy with her.

- She has really fluffy hair and absolutely terrible bed head.

- She and Upa often receive no help reaching things from the high shelves. So they must stick together. Que Thia holding Upa on her shoulders as he reaches the top shelf. Bravely going where no shorties have ever gone before.

- She’s actually not human haha. I don’t know what she is yet. But once every month she just kinda sleeps for a straight week, usually under a bed. The first time she had Samon panicking because “Oh shit! Inmate 76 is dead!”

- Is known by Upa and Liang as bird mom, bringer of way to many snuggles and teller of bed time stories, too ferocious to fend off.

- LOVES. TO. PAINT. There’s no doubt about it. Capable of creating gorgeous masterpieces but has no faith in herself. Flicks paint at those her back talk her. Just as effective as washing one’s mouth out with soap or putting then in time out.

- When not paired with Qi, in canon with her own Universe she has ten boys from a previous relationship. When with my best Bud’s oc Akuma, she has them and two twin whom both have decided to call Artemis and Apollo. And she has a step daughter from Akuma named Mona Cyan. She adores her like her own babus.

- Has to aus for her. -One where she and Qi adopt Upa and Liang, get out of prison, and have a happy little life as a normal family. - And one where she’s gothic af and scares the shit out of everyone in Nanba by drawing pentagrams on the walls, doing weird ass ritual’s, and bringing the dead back to life.

- she’s fast af, can out run anyone. Quoting an rp. “You cannon outrun me supervisor! I never tired! Even ask Qi!”

- Her eyes turn a pale blue when mad.

- Has a gorgeous singing voice, though she’s too shy to use it. It was only discovered after she tried singing to Upa when he was ill. The other two were supposed to be gone. Que flustered bird.

Anyways I probably got carried away, but have this. Keep in mind this is only a fraction of my headcannons for my aus. Don’t get me started on the cannon. Haha.

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airanke · 7 years

Text

Bet You Wish

OKAY!!! LISTEN!! BEFORE YOU READ THIS I GOTTA LET YOU KNOW A FEW THINGS:

This is not. Canon.

Not to Lascivious Ophidian or any other AU or any RPs OR ANYTHING, it’s kind of like the proverbial “bad end”, if you will. I borrowed @madmadameem‘s Nadia and KIND OF went with a “Something Borrowed, Something Blue” vibe because in this short Nadia and Vol’jin are a thing AND it offered a more interesting relationship dynamic than say, me using Vanira. Whom I didn’t just want to randomly throw into a relationship with Vol’jin for the sake of this one short. LET ME HAVE MY HORRIBLE FEELINGS AND THEN MAKE YOU ALL SUFFER WITH ME.

This entire thing spawned from two ideas I had, the first of which I’m not going to tell you so that I don’t spoil, but the second idea was I just kind of really wanted to write a short fight between Vol’jin and Vadim. Vadim is a relatively... new development in Amita’s story (ie. I was thinking about who could have helped her properly master her moonkin / balance druid form because honestly she had to have SOME help), and so Vadim happened.

And I wanted him and Vol’jin to just hate each other for one reason or another. So. Yeah. It’s also partially brought on because I listened to “Bet U Wish” by Raye a while back and was like “OMG WHAT IF THINGS BETWEEN AMITA AND VOL’JIN WENT REALLY REALLY SOUTH” (aside from the other idea, which I’m not gonna say here because, it’s literally introduced in the first few paragraphs HAHA). Specifically, though, it’s the chorus that got me the most, and it goes like this:

“Everything is gone For you I have nothing, absolutely nothing But I bet you wish, I bet you wish, I bet you wish I bet you wish, I bet you wish, I bet you wish Yeah, it's all gone Oh you wish we had something, we got nothing But I bet you wish, I bet you wish, I bet you wish I bet you wish, I bet you wish, I bet you wish But it's all gone”.

Anyway, I’ll stop rambling here because this is already really fucking long, the actual story is under the cut. Suffer mortals. Suffer with me, SUFFER WITH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-- I’ll make it all up to you I SWEAR I’LL WRITE CUTE FLUFF FOR YOU I’LL WRITE SMUT I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOOOOOOOOU

Panic.

That had been the culprit that lead to this. Vol’jin hadn’t anticipated that Amita would be so hostile toward the worgen king after his hostility toward Sylvanas. She had gone so far as to shift into her hydra form, snarling.

The warchief’s hand shook. In his palm, sat a bloodied tusk - and of course it would be bloody. But it was an accident! He’d only meant to pull her back, and the only thing he could think to get her attention was to grab her tusk.

Because he panicked. Because he didn’t think, because he’d magically forgotten that grabbing another troll’s tusk was stupidest decision he could have ever made.

Vol’jin had startled her. When he wrapped his hand around her tusk, she’d jerked back her head.

He should’ve let go.

He should have never grabbed her tusk in the first place.

Vol’jin had never been so mortified in his life. It grew worse when she screamed in pain, reverting back to her troll form, cupping her cheek. Her green eyes left burns on his skin, wide with betrayal.

Then she was gone.

Whisked herself away on dark wings. He couldn’t shake the sight of the blood that had splattered on the ground.

At least when he turned his head to look at Genn, the worgen looked… stunned. Sylvanas seemed equally as stunned, though he was surprised to see her expression change to being appalled. She snapped at Genn for his idiocy, and the king - surprisingly - backed down without much of a fight.

Vol’jin quickly excused himself - and so here he was, staring at his bloodied palm. The entire tusk had come out. He could even see a bit of flesh on the root.

What have I done.

He closed shaking fingers around the tusk, putting on a smile when the door was pushed open.

“Vol’jin?” came the quiet voice. Nadia stood in the doorway, brows furrowed. She didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t need to know - not yet, anyway.

“Nadia,” he greeted, rising from his seat, keeping the smile on his lips, “I be needing ta go somewhere fah a lil’ bit.”

Her brows narrowed further as he walked around the desk, keeping his right hand as hidden as naturally possible so as to not to alert her.

Nadia turned toward him and he caressed her cheek, holding onto his smile.

“Where?” Nadia questioned, her suspicion clear. She glanced at his right hand, and he let her see his hand - to an extent. Vol’jin kept his grip as relaxed as possible without showing that there was something hidden within his fist.

“Ratchet,” he replied. Her suspicion only mounted. He knew that Amita and Nadia were friends. Vol’jin ducked his head to hide his face for a moment. Loa, this was difficult.

“Only fah a few houahs. I’ll be back befah sundown.”

“Why are you going to Ratchet?” Nadia pressed, following him into the hall of the hold.

“I need… ta do sometin’,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her, “don’ worry ‘bout it.”

Nadia obviously wanted to ask more, but he quickly escaped her sight. He was on his raptor the next second. Ratchet was in his sights soon after that.

She had arrived in a flurry of scaly feathers and tears. Her jaw hurt. She could feel the blood steadily dripping down her chin, even in her wind serpent form.

How dare he?

Sure, perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hostile toward the worgen king, but she had no reason to trust him - or any of the Alliance leaders, not after how high and mighty they behaved after the siege.

Amita couldn’t make it to Rath’s bar. She dropped on the ground, shifting into her troll form, and cupped her cheek in her hand.

Moments later she heard quick footsteps, then a cool hand was pressed over hers.

“Amita!” Vadim exclaimed, his voice tinged with worry, “wat happened? Why ya be bleeding--”

She was grateful that she had prepared herself for his flurry of curses when he realized that she was bleeding because her tusk was gone. The coolness emanating from his hand intensified, and Amita let her own hand slip away so he could place his hand directly on her skin. The cold soothed her aching jaw.

Amita hiccuped, choking on her tears. She couldn’t formulate any words. At least Vadim’s presence was calming her, for the most part, even if she was afraid to tell him why she was missing her tusk because she knew it would only fuel his dislike for Vol’jin more.

“Who in de hell did dis to you?” the mage demanded, the blue of his bleeding into his sclera.

“H-He did-- I--”

“He who?”

“The warchief,” Amita finally rasped, dropping into Zandali. Vadim fell into silence.

“Vol’jin,” she reiterated, closing her eyes tightly. Loa, it nearly made the tears worse.

Vadim retracted his hand from her cheek. Amita struggled to compose herself; others in Ratchet had been drawn to the scene. She quickly raised a hand to both hide the fact that one of her tusks was missing, and to rub away the blood that had dried on her chin.

“That son of a bitch,” the mage snarled, frost coating his tusks. Amita lurched to her feet, moving past him. She could feel the chill when he reached for her - but he must have changed his mind, because it was retracted from her shortly thereafter. She hurried into Rath’s bar, ignoring the orc when he greeted her.

She went right to her room, sitting down at the vanity.

Her face looked so… off-kilter. It looked wrong. She could taste the copper in her mouth, her tongue prodding at the bloody space her tusk had left. Her eyes were puffy and red.

Several minutes passed. Then an hour.

Finally, there was a soft knock at her door. She breathed deeply, tearing her eyes away from her reflection.

“Yes…?”

Vadim pushed open the door. The frost was gone from his tusks, and he had Hakto at his shoulder. Amita’s ears flicked down. She averted her gaze when the tauren shaman’s brows narrowed back in concern.

“Let’s have a look at that, Amita,” Hakto said, his voice absent of its usual gruffness. He gently prodded at her cheek and upper jaw, green magic swirling about his large fingertips.

“And… let’s see about removing the other one.”

Vol’jin paced.

He hadn’t been able to walk in the front door to Rath’s bar. At least three hours had passed since the incident - and wasn’t that damn mage here as well? He vaguely recalled Amita mentioning that the man had come to visit. Perhaps stay. She’d seemed happy.

So why did it bother him so damn much?

Vol’jin shook his head. He chalked it up to Amita being his childhood friend - he was only being protective because he didn’t like Vadim, and Vadim had made it abundantly clear he had no love for Vol’jin.

Still, the warchief sighed, and slumped down against the back of the bar. He could hear people talking inside, passing around stories and jokes. Someone was playing a harp. Drink glasses and bottles clinked at the bar.

Rath would most certainly know what had happened. Vol’jin had grabbed Amita’s tusk, she jerked her head back, and that was that. Out came her tusk.

Vol’jin wet his lips. He was about to get up when his ears caught onto the sound of leather against wood.

“... warchief?”

The troll flinched. It wasn’t Rath, no, but it was Inetiel. The blood elf had a bag of garbage in his hand, and was halfway out the back door.

“Inetiel…” Vol’jin muttered, pushing himself up to his feet, “I…”

“So, he shows his face.”

The blood elf made a sound close to a whine, and Rath nudged the Inetiel with his elbow. The old orc had crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze menacing, “go.”

“Yes’sir.”

Vol’jin watched as Inetiel rigidly walked over to a large steel bin. He forced himself to look at Rath as Inetiel hefted the bag into the bin.

“Where she be?”

“Every time you come here, you ask me that question,” Rath said, his voice deadpan, “and every time, without fail, I give you an answer. If you would be so inclined to tell me, Vol’jin, for what reason I should give you an answer now, I’d be most interested in hearing what that reason is.”

The troll’s ears flicked down. He quickly lowered his head to hide the pout. To be treated like a child when he held the position he had, was a blow to his pride.

Vol’jin supposed he deserved that.

Instead of arguing with the orc, and pulling the warchief card like Vol’jin was certain Garrosh would have - and he was better than Garrosh - Vol’jin extended his right hand. He had taken a moment after arriving to wash the tusk, and he held his breath upon seeing Rath’s posture relax.

“I be needing ta… return dis. And, as I be hoping might be obvious… I be needing ta talk ta her, Rath. I swear I didn’t do dis on purpose. I made a mistake. I be wanting to at least try to fix it.”

Rath breathed deeply. Inetiel scurried past the orc back into the bar, and heartily greeted someone who was clearly there for drinks, and not drama.

“Getting past me is the easy part,” the orc mused. He set a harsh gaze on Vol’jin, “I can’t guarantee that someone else will let you near her. That being said, she’s down that way,” Rath nodded in the direction, “there’s some new homes that were built down there; she’s in the bigger one. It belongs to me.”

Vol’jin dipped his head in respect, and held his tongue against saying any thanks. Like Inetiel before him, Vol’jin began to rigidly walk in the direction Rath had gestured. He was grateful that he’d decided to wear more than usual that day, having a pouch around his hips that he could slip the tusk into.

Absently he ran a finger over the blade of his glaive. This someone else could only be Vadim. The bastard had made it a point to get under Vol’jin’s skin when they were first introduced after the Siege.

Damn it.

The sun was already going down. He’d told Nadia he’d be back before then. What a lie that had been, and now that was two things he was going to have to make up for.

Ahead of him was a well constructed home, similar in all ways to the goblin structures, but made for someone bigger than they were. It sat on a raised plot of land, keeping it out of reach of the sea.

Vol’jin hardly made it up the short incline before he lurched back. Bitter cold struck his chest, crawling over his collarbone and down his abdomen.

Vadim had good aim, Vol’jin would give him that. An ice lance, right to the chest. Quickly, Vol’jin pulled his glaive away from his back, parrying a heavy blow from the mage. He would have to watch out for those daggers attached to Vadim’s staff.

The shadow hunter kicked back, baring his teeth, “let me see her.”

“You’ve got some nerve, Vol,” Vadim growled, magic swirling around his hand, “showing up here, expecting everyone to let you have your way, just because you’re the warchief.”

Vol’jin could feel anger blossom between his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t get any respect from this man. Before he could retort, a harsh winds ripped through the area. If that didn’t alert anyone that a fight was going on, well, Volj’in didn’t know what would.

The blizzard was something the shadow hunter ducked into his swift cobra form to avoid. He skirted closer to the main part of Ratchet, and once he left his snake form, he stayed in a low stance. Vadim had the advantage here.

Being a Darkspear, Vol’jin was susceptible to the cold; Vadim knew that. And even if Vol’jin had spent some time in the cold mountains of Pandaria, it was a different cold to that of a frost mage.

Vadim, it seemed, was too angry to care about keeping his distance. He blinked right to Vol’jin’s position, twirling his staff as a monk would. Vol’jin deflected his blows and returned them in kind, until their movements were nearly too fast to see.

The daggers on Vadim’s staff cut into Vol’jin’s side when the mage abruptly changed the direction of his attack mid-blow. Vol’jin staggered, and Vadim’s hand lit up with purple light. The arcane blast sent the warchief tumbling backward. Goblin bruisers were beginning to move in on the scene, but a bark from Hakto stopped them.

Good.

They should know better than to get in between two fighting trolls.

Vol’jin snarled at Vadim once he collected himself, claws digging into the dirt. Vadim sneered, then charged Vol’jin again. This time, Vol’jin ducked inside the mage’s reach, startling him, and caught the other man around the neck. He pivoted around Vadim, tightening his hold on the mage, and locking one of his arms into an awkward position. It forced the mage to drop his staff.

“I need to talk to her, and by the Loa, Vadim, you’re gonna’ be letting me.”

The mage spewed a flurry of chatterings - Thalassian, if Vol’jin recalled the sound of it correctly - then seemed to shift his head.

Ice blossomed over the back of the mage’s head, and Vol’jin stared wide-eyed right before he released a yelp of pain. Vadim had bashed his frost covered head into Vol’jin’s nose. The shadow hunter had felt it break, and he released Vadim in favor of bringing his hand to his face, blinking his eyes furiously to keep them open despite the burning ache.

The mage blinked forward, gasping for air, then blinked twice again to get behind Vol’jin. Vol’jin spun around, holding his glaive ahead of himself defensively. He had to give the mage credit. He’d accurately estimated that his head was just small enough to fit between Vol’jin’s tusks for him to deliver the deadly reverse headbutt.

Vol’jin did take some pride in seeing that there were cuts all over the other troll’s exposed skin, namely Vadim’s face. So the tip of his glaive had nicked the mage more than he thought it had.

“You vekk,” Vadim spat, once again bringing rage to boil in Vol’jin’s blood, “if you think that I’m gonna’ be letting you anywhere--”

Dark roots cut him off. They coiled around Vadim, pinning down his arms and his legs.

Vol’jin felt the ground under him rumble as well. He dropped his glaive, pulled his hand away from his face, and managed to fish the tusk out of his pouch before the roots entangled him too.

Amita’s face was red with fury - and Vol’jin had to avert his gaze. She looked so different without her tusks. He should have known that she would have the other one removed.

From the way she breathed in Vol’jin knew there was much she wanted to say. She spoke to the mage first, “please. Stop. I don’t be needin’ this right now.”

“Amita--”

“Vadim. I don’t. I appreciate it, but I don’t be needin’ it. Please.”

The mage went quiet. Voices reached Vol’jin’s ears, though their conversation was muddled. He didn’t want to look over his shoulder to see how many people had gathered, or how many of them recognized him.

Amita stalked over to him. Under the fury in her eyes he could see her pain. He glanced at his closed fist; her eyes followed.

“And what be you doin’ here?” she asked, the venom in her voice doing little to mask the bitter hurt. Vol’jin wet his lips.

“Can I talk to you?”

“You be talkin’.”

He ducked his head, unable to stop the smile that crossed his lips. He should have known she’d retort with that.

“I be meaning,” Vol’jin raised his gaze, brows narrowing back, “may I be having a moment of your time, to speak in private, Amita.”

A certain weariness crossed her features. She waved her hand to release him of the roots.

“Fine. Follow.”

He took only a moment to stoop and pick up his glaive before hurrying after her. She led him to the bar, where he had been slouched just moments before.

This was where she felt safest. It was also the only reason he knew he had to come to Ratchet, because she felt safest here, because this was where Rath and Hakto and Inetiel were - and by extension, that bastard of a mage.

The two trolls regarded each other in silence. She was wearing warmer clothes, unsuited for the weather of the Barrens, and Vol’jin could only assume it was because Amita was trying them on for one reason or another. He wasn’t used to seeing her wear such “modest” clothing, as it were.

He attempted to break the silence first, “Amita--”

“Hakto said it might not grow back.”

Under his war paint, Vol’jin paled. Amita’s gaze was level with his. She continued, as he remained mortified by the prospect, “of course, the chances are higher that it will. But it be a possibility all the same. My left tusk might not ever grow back right, if at all.”

Vol’jin recalled the flesh he’d seen in the root of the tusk, something that he had to use a dagger to get out. Depending on the amount of violence used to remove a tusk, the damage could be irreversible.

If her tusk didn’t grow back, Vol’jin wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

“Is… is he gonna’ keep tabs on it?” Vol’jin asked quietly, molten eyes fixed on his feet, “to make sure it… don’t be goin’ awry?”

“You best look at me, warchief, or I just might walk off on you.”

Vol’jin jerked up his head, and where anger had rooted itself after Vadim had been so disrespectful in the use of the title, a painful ache now grew. He knew what it meant. Amita had always intended it to be a way of distancing herself from him.

He held out his hand, opening it to reveal the tusk, “Amita, I’m sorry.”

She looked down at his hand, then back up at him, “is that why you be coming here?”

“To return it, yes,” Vol’jin said, clenching his teeth, “and to be apologizing. I didn’t think about how else to be calming you. It was a bad decision on my part. I’m sorry.”

Amita hesitantly moved toward him. She raised her hand, and drew no closer than was necessary for her to take her tusk back. The ache in his chest spread. Loa, he’d really done it. He knew her well enough to understand that for her to physically keep her distance spoke volumes of the amount of trust he’d lost.

The druid looked over the tusk in her hand. Vol’jin watched her nervously. He wanted to make this right. He wanted to fix this, and he didn’t know how.

“I’m going to Northrend.”

This news hit him about as hard as Vadim’s ice lance did. That explained the warmer clothing - and if she was going to Northrend, she was going to need a companion, someone who knew that land like the back of his hand.

Someone like Vadim.

Vol’jin couldn’t accept it. This change couldn’t be caused solely by the fact he had accidentally ripped out her tusk.

“Amita it was an accident,” he said it like that would fix everything. The way she looked at him made his heart plummet into his stomach. Once again she was on the verge of tears. Vol’jin valued his personal relationships too much to let her slip through his fingers because of his mistake. They’d been friends for years. Maybe more than friends, at one point, but neither of them had seen it, and now it was too late--

Amita lowered her gaze. Vol’jin clenched one of his hands into a fist.

“Ami, please.”

She said nothing. He took a step forward and praise the Loa, she didn’t step back.

But a snap reached his ears. He stared at her with wide eyes.

Amita extended a hand toward him. She looked at her fist, then at his hand, and finally, up at him. He hesitantly raised his, palm up.

She lowered her fist into his open hand. When she opened it, the caress of her nails sent a spark up his arm that they really had no business sending. She let her hand rest on his, palm to palm, with something jagged and sharp in between.

It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be.

“Consider this the end of us, son of Sen’jin.”

She lifted her hand away, revealing that she had broken her tusk in half, and had given the upper portion - the part that came to a point - back to him.

Vol’jin’s breaths started coming a little quicker.

“A-Amita,” he sought her gaze, molten eyes burning.

“I can’t be doin’ this anymore,” her green orbs lacked their usual life.

“Amita, I--”

“I dunno how long I’ll be gone.”

“Ami, please--”

“Go back home, warchief.”

Vol’jin stared at her in disbelief. It couldn’t be like this. One little mistake and he’d ruined everything. He could almost hear Vadim laughing. Mocking him. One of his most important relationships, aside from Nadia, Vanira, Rokhan, Baine, and Thrall, and he had ruined it.

The mage would have a field day.

And Amita was still waiting for him to leave.

He intended to make it easier for her. Walk around her, and leave. Walk around her, and leave. Walk around her, and leave.

Vol’jin embraced her tightly instead.

Amita’s whole body shook. He barely felt the touch of her hand at the small of his back. Her face was pressed against his neck, and he buried what he could of his in her hair without tangling her locks in his tusks, and despite the dull ache in his nose.

He didn’t know how long they stood like that, only that he couldn’t seem to hug her close enough.

Finally, she spoke. She sounded defeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Vol’jin, I need you to go, please.”

He stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender, his thumb keeping the piece of tusk she’d given him from falling to the grassy ground. Vol’jin could leave it at that, if only because she’d relented and called him by his name. He walked around her.

Her footsteps whisked through the grass as she ran away from him, once he was no longer looking at her.

Vol’jin tipped his head back, staring at the sky. It was getting dark. He had to get back to Orgrimmar before Nadia got suspicious and came looking for him herself - and he knew she would. She always found some way to get around whatever obstacles he put in her way to try and keep her in the Hold while he was away on business.

Before he could leave, a heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Hold still,” the low voice belonged to Hakto. He reached over and, in one swift move, straightened out Vol’jin’s nose. The warchief hardly flinched. Funny how he had forgotten about the ache in his face when the ache in his chest began. The shaman easily healed not only Vol’jin’s broken nose, but also the rest of the injuries he’d gotten in his short spat with Vadim.

“... when?” came the quiet question. Hakto exhaled through his nose, giving his grand head a shake.

“Two weeks,” he paused, then spoke again, “warchief.”

Vol’jin looked up at the shaman, surprised to find that Hakto was giving him a gentle, almost fatherly gaze, “give her space. This isn’t a decision she just… jumped to in the span of what? Three hours?”

The shadow hunter nodded his head, blinking. Wondering what the tauren was getting at.

“Vadim’s been wanting to get her out of the Barrens for days. Hell, even weeks. He last brought it up when the Siege was over. Even mentioned something about wanting to take her back to Pandaria,” Hakto reached behind himself, hand outstretched as if to silence someone that had come up behind him, “and sometimes, warchief, the best things in your life come to an end.”

Vol’jin glowered at the ground. He tightened his hand around the broken tusk he held. Hakto squeezed his shoulder.

“But that doesn’t mean that they can never be rebuilt.”

Vol’jin clapped a hand to the tauren’s shoulder. Hakto had no reason to bother telling him any of this. He held it together as he looked up at the tauren.

“Tank you.”

Hakto nodded, then gestured toward the warchief’s raptor, “you best go. Before sentries come looking for you.”

Vol’jin muttered his agreement, and it was only when he was a fair distance from Ratchet, between Crossroads and Orgrimmar, that he allowed a few tears to fall.

Nadia had been agitated for the past few days. Vol’jin was acting very strange. Apart from returning long after he said he would, he’d greeted her with the fakest smile she had ever seen cross his features, and then proceeded to distract her from questioning him by kissing her like his life depended on it.

Worse, and somewhat unsettling to the mage, was the fact that Amita had been nowhere to be seen. Nadia knew she could have easily gone to Ratchet to check on her friend herself, but whenever she intended to go, Vol’jin managed to find something he needed her help with.

Oddly, she became aware that he had started wearing a necklace she had never seen before. She would have brought it up already, but…

From what Nadia could tell, part of the necklace was another troll’s tusk. She had to admit, she was afraid to ask whose tusk it was.

Currently, she was wandering around Orgrimmar. The Lunar Festival was just around the corner, and she was humoring Vol’jin by looking for some fabric to use to make into an appropriate outfit for the event - and of course, Nadia was looking for a dress herself, or maybe even some fabric to have one made as well.

She sighed, rolling her shoulders. Looking at all the patterns was making her eyes dizzy, so she glanced to the left.

And immediately staggered forward to latch onto Amita’s wrist because Nadia would know that mass of blue hair anywhere.

“Amita!!” she exclaimed, a wide grin spreading over her lips--

Only to stare in horror when Amita turned her head, eyes wide with surprise.

Amita’s tusks.

They were gone.

Nadia could sense, with perfect clarity, that the druid’s thoughts had just been reduced to a distressed “oh no”.

The mage continued to stare, her grip on Amita’s wrist slackening. Her tusks didn’t even look like they were growing back at all, which meant that they must have been removed recently.

Nadia recalled the necklace in a vivid picture. She recalled the natural color of Amita’s tusks. The images in her mind were identical.

“Ah… Nadia. I, um,” the druid slouched, her ears pinning back.

“Amita, what happened to your tusks,” Nadia deadpanned, her grip on Amita’s wrist regaining its strength. Amita pressed her lips together. This prompted Nadia to drag the other woman into the nearest, quietest space, which happened to be The Broken Tusk - the name of which she vehemently ignored due to the ridiculous irony - and into a dimly lit back corner because thank all the gods above, below, and between that it was mostly empty.

“Amita, what happened to your tusks,” she repeated.

Nadia was not prepared for the tears that spilled down Amita’s cheeks.

“Amita please tell me what happened,” Nadia asked yet again, hoping to get the story out of the druid. Hoping that, despite all logic pointing in that direction, that the broken tusk Vol’jin now wore wasn’t hers.

“Ih-...” Amita pulled her hand out of Nadia’s grasp, rubbing at her face. The mage gave her a moment to compose herself, questions nagging in the back of her mind with the belief that once Amita started her story, they would be answered.

“It be happenin’, ‘bout two weeks ago…” Amita began, constantly brushing tears away from her cheeks, “some o’ de Alliance leadahs be here. Evah since de Siege, I nevah been likin’ dem much. De um, de worgen king, he uh, be gettin’ hostile toward de Banshee Queen.”

Nadia’s eyes tightened.

“I don’ be de biggest fan o’ her, bu’ she still be a de facto leadah of de Horde. I kinda’ snarled back at him. De king, dat is, in my hydra form.”

Nadia’s brows furrowed further in concern. She reached for Amita’s hands, “what--”

“Vol’jin panicked. And den I panicked, cuz I wasn’... I wasn’ expectin’ ‘im to be grabbin’ my tusk--” Amita inhaled sharply to stave off a sob, “he… still had his grip, and den, I be jerkin’ my head back.”

Nadia’s hand hovered centimeters away from Amita’s, until the druid moved it again to brush away the fresh tears.

“De combination, it be rippin’ out my left tusk.”

The mage balled her hand into a fist, and quickly lowered it back to her side.

“I-I’m not gonna’ be here fah much longah. I’m… leavin’.”

“Leaving?!” Nadia exclaimed, startled by the news, “I -- you-- I didn’t hear anything about this!”

“I know. I’m sorreh, Nadia, bu’ I…” she bit her lip, then switched to Zandali, giving the two women more privacy on the matter, “I can’t be here. It hurts too much. Vadim, he be the mage I’m goin’ with, he’ll be here soon.”

Nadia’s heart pounded in her ears, “where? Where are you going? Please tell me you’ll stay in touch, I don’t want to lose you just because Vol’jin --”

“I’m goin’ to Northrend. From there, I dunno. Vadim won’t tell me, wants me to be in the moment, so to speak,” Amita interrupted, “and I’m… not gonna’ make you any promises, Nadia. I can’t. I be thinkin’ about this for some time. I need to put more distance between myself and Vol’jin.”

“Why?” Nadia pleaded, searching Amita’s expression for any explanation, “going all the way to Northrend, and not staying in touch--”

Amita held a finger to Nadia’s lips.

“Because I love him, Nadia.”

The mage stared, shoulders lowered, brows back.

“And I can’t be takin’ it anymore. Seeing him get cozy with you, I-- I need to heal,” Amita paused, letting her hand drop back to her side, “it don’t be your fault. It’s my own fault. I be feelin’ this way for so long, but ever since… ever since I had Bujune, ever since I got back from the Zandalar islands I… I been tryin’ to put a wall between me and Vol’jin.”

Nadia balled her hands into fists. This wasn’t the answer she wanted. There had to be another reason - and what did Amita mean, she had to heal? She didn’t want to ask “why” again - so Nadia resorted to boring holes into the woman before her.

“I’m a nehjo, Nadia, don’t be lookin’ at me like that,” Amita said softly, “how could I ever be with someone like him?”

“You,” Nadia struggled to keep the anger out of her voice - not at Amita, no, but at this situation, “you wrote yourself off because of what happened on the Zandalar islands, because you had a child? Because you happen to enjoy the company of other men - which, you know, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I was used on the islands, Nadia!” Amita said, pain in her voice, “I defined my worth based on whether or not I be good enough to bear a man’s child, and I kept my distance from anyone who be wantin’ more than just one night, because I never wanted children! And that… that included Vol’jin. He talked about children offhandedly sometimes. It was so obvious he wanted kids when he be ready for them.”

Her tears started all over again, “listen, I-I only came here to be seein’ him one last time before I go. And just seeing him, Nadia, I don’t wanna’ talk to him. He already broke my heart. I don’t be needin’ him to shatter it too.”

“I’m not exactly happy to know that you wrote yourself off of your chance to be with someone you loved because you didn’t want kids!” Nadia said hurriedly, wracking her mind for anything to change Amita’s mind, “you-- you could have adopted! That was always an option!”

Amita shook her head, and Nadia grabbed the druid’s hands, “Amita I care about you, if you loved him so much why didn’t you just say something?!”

“Because I am nothing,” Amita choked, her expression enough to bring tears to Nadia’s eyes, “and he, he is everything.”

She pulled her hands out of Nadia’s once again, wiping furiously at her face, “how could I ever be with someone like him? I don’t even be close. I’m a whore, and a single-mother, and I be wanting nothing more than to just be happy for him and for you because I be liking you, but my jealousy be catching up to me. And it be my own fault. So I need to get away from here, and get him off my mind, and out of my heart.”

Nadia trailed desperately after Amita as the druid strode out of the inn, “please. Please write me. I don’t need it to be every day, but once every week, Amita, please--” she grabbed Amita’s hand, brown eyes begging, “please don’t leave like this.”

At the very least, Amita hesitated. Her green eyes seemed all the more brilliant. There was a lot of commotion at the Hold, and Nadia realized with a sinking heart, that Amita knew meeting schedules like the back of her hand. She had come to Orgrimmar specifically at this time because she knew that there would be a break.

To make matters worse, there was a drake circling Orgrimmar - obviously with someone on it’s back, because the wind riders weren’t making a fuss about it - and Nadia could only assume that this was the Vadim fellow that Amita had mentioned.

“Okay.”

The mage’s attention snapped back to Amita, eyes wide with hope.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

Nadia practically had to jump to wrap her arms around Amita’s neck. Part of her wanted to apologize - but the other part reminded her, what difference would it have made, even if Amita told Vol’jin how she felt?

One last time.

She would let herself see him one last time.

Nadia had since let her go. Amita had watched her friend all but storm off after a tight embrace, wondering if that anger was directed at Vol’jin, or the fact that this situation was entirely out of her control. In the end, Amita decided that she shouldn’t worry herself over it.

She did, however, worry over perhaps causing an unnecessary rift between the couple so close to the Lunar Festival.

Vadim was circling the city in a wide arc, as she had requested him to. She didn’t want him to land. She didn’t want Nadia to run the risk of meeting him, because Amita knew he would be snide and flippant with her, chalking her up to being just as terrible as Vol’jin was in his eyes.

Perhaps Amita should have known better than to even think of the devil, because he emerged from the Hold, looking every part the warchief he was required to be. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest at the sight of him. She felt warm and giddy and distraught and envious all at once.

She stared for too long. He raised his head from looking down at someone. His eyes met hers, and his hand flew to the necklace he had around his neck. Amita felt her mouth and her eyes turn down in sadness.

He wore her broken tusk around his neck, so that it would be a constant reminder of his failure - or at least, what he considered to be his failure. Perhaps Amita should make sure that Nadia could make him get rid of the necklace eventually. She had intended for him to throw her broken tusk away, but for him to choose to hold onto it…

Amita hadn’t wanted him to carry it as a burden.

She offered him the best smile she could manage. His expression twisted into one of distress, and with her heart in her throat, Amita turned and ran.

The druid sprinted out of gates, startling a few orcs who were coming into the city, and once free of all the eyes, she shifted into a wind serpent. Her despairing screech brought Vadim and his dragon to her rather quickly.

Amita spent the first hour of her trip crying and crying and crying against Vadim’s back. He let her.

She was so grateful that he let her.

Vekk - according to this post, it means “crooked or dishonourable, but can also be used as an expletive when referring to an untrustworthy” Wanted to have Vadim call Vol’jin that to cement the idea that he really does not like Vo’jin you guys. He’s also be REALLY disrespectful when he drops the “jin” suffix from Vol’jin’s name. Like HELLA disrespectful.

CAN YOU BELIEVE I WANTED TO ADD AN ENTIRE SECTION WHERE NADIA AND VOL’JIN WERE ARGUING ABOUT THIS BECAUSE YOU BETTER BELIEVE THAT I WANTED TO BUT MY GAWD IT’S LONG AND I’M SORRY AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Amita has a lot of self-worth issues I’m cry. Omg I’m so glad this isn’t actually canon but I mean like... //GROSS SOBBING I’M APOLOGIZE??? Aaaaaa

#Air writes #Amita Dakini #Vol'jin #Nadia Ravenscroft #Vadim #GOOD LORD SLAY ME ALIVE #IT'S LONG AND PROPS TO YOU IF YOU READ THE WHOLE THING AAAAAAAAAA

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nelrunari · 5 years

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❖ AND THE DREAM CALLS: EULALIE HOLMES.

Character Name: Eulalie Holmes

↳ Alias: Chuu Rosetta, the former leader of The Bird’s Chuus. She doesn’t remember her death, nor the fact the group has since been forgotten.

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 24

Trigger Warnings: death mention, memory loss

Appearance: Standing at about 5’9”, Eulalie is a lanky and fair-skinned young woman. She has a beauty mark under her lip on the left side of her face, and bright ice-blue eyes, almond-shaped and often hidden between the now-decorative blue frames of her glasses. Her hair is naturally blonde, but she’s dyed it frequently enough; at present there are dark brown roots slowly fading into a light silver, and she prefers to keep it tied back in a ponytail, with a feather accessory keeping her bangs out of her eyes. She has the beginnings of worry lines between her brows. It’s often you’ll find her huddled up on herself, trying to make herself look a bit smaller.

As Chuu Rosetta, the only notable difference from her human self were the lack of glasses, the wings that sprouted from her back, and her hair taking on a pearlescent color. In contrast to her civilian form, she stands more confidently.

Personality:

Positive Traits: articulate, careful, clever, dependable, determined, efficient, gentle, hopeful, humble, observant, optimistic, patient, sincere, tactful.

Negative Traits: altruistic, anxious, cloudcuckoolander, complacent, critical, finicky, insecure, naive, shallow, suspicious, timid, weak-willed.

MBTI: isfp.

TEMPERAMENT: phlegmatic.

ALIGNMENT: lawful good.

Background: To understand Eulalie, all you need to know is that she’s very fond of facts. Nothing is ever coincidental; there’s a reason behind every action, every event, and every word someone puts out into the world. In many cases, the reason is a complicated one: they might be a bit more emotional, so whatever they say or do comes out cluttered, or something beyond the metaphysical pushed two people together into the same room, or something difficult to understand suddenly makes a lot of sense once the effort is put in to understand it.

Meeting Marisol, a talking lizard companion that she had come to adopt rather impulsively, would fall into the second example. Her reaction to it would fall under the first. It was finals week, you see. She didn’t have the time to consider if too many sleepless nights had sent her right over the edge into full-blown delirium, and this thing was just a figment of her imagination begging her to rest; she didn’t think anything of it when she snapped back at it to come back a week later when she has the time to deal with it--foolishly assuming that it was just a joke her brain played.

The lizard huffed, agreed to the terms, and left. ...Only to come back a week later, just as Eulalie had asked it to. Except this time it was a little less patient with her, and she nearly threw it across her room when she woke up and it was nestled on her chest--staring.

It let her have her little fit, armed with a pillow clutched tight to her chest and pen pointed sharply in its direction. Tilted its head, asked if she was done, and although she didn’t speak she nodded back at it, lowered the pen and moved to grab her glasses, stare right back at it. And then it talked about a contract.

It was...a strange deal, from what little sense she could make of it. She asked for a copy rather hesitantly, flipped through page after page as it spoke, and all she really got from it was an awful headache that only got worse the longer she read. There was enough she understood that the creature didn’t explain itself: something about magical powers, and a secret identity, something about an animal counterpart--she thinks there was something about what she became, but the phantom pain in her temple wasn’t worth trying to find it again.

All in all, it was...promising. If nothing else, it sounded good for an escape; like daydreams but better. And she’d finished what she had to, so maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad?

Whoever proposed the idea of making her the leader of the little rag-tag group they’d formed was an idiot. She still stands by this, because the minute she found her teammates she forgot herself; forgot how to speak, fumbled over the words, slurred the ones she managed to say, and instead ended up staring dumbstruck at one of the many she came to love. Her name was Laverne; she was an actress, and her family was in the movie scene too, and she was beautiful, and Eulalie was everything but.

Laverne didn’t laugh at her...too much, for this. But even what little she did didn’t seem mean-spirited, and she even adjusted her glasses for her, and she smiled, and-

Eulalie didn’t understand a thing, when this all started. Didn’t understand the absolute blessing that came with the freedom, didn’t understand why she was blessed with such wonderful teammates, didn’t understand her role or her powers or anything of it. And as much as she’d like to say she eventually did understand...she didn’t. And this didn’t bother her, much to her surprise.

She died, at some point, in what could’ve been a glorious battle--they all did, all contracted eventually do, it’s in the fine print. ( The fine print she never did find, because of that splitting headache. ) Herself, and Laverne, and the rest of her team. It doesn’t really matter who went when. It doesn’t really matter if they tried their hardest. The world forgot them, as they’re always bound to do, another one of those fun little clauses buried too deep in too many pages for anyone to be able to find.

There’s no such thing as a coincidence. The world forgot her, and she forgot all of it. Eternity’s a funny thing, when you lose your soul to the promise of magic, there’s nothing really left for you at all.

Memento: An axe, extravagantly decorated. It’s hard to tell what material it’s made of, though it looks as though it might be crystal? There are no chips or scratches to be seen on its surface, and vines are wrapped tightly around its hilt, leading up to blooms of baby’s breath. It’s surprisingly lightweight, given its size...

Natural Abilities: A majority of her abilities, or what’s left of them, come contractually. These include, but are not limited to:

BIRD-LIKE FEATURES AND SENSES. When under immense strain, she may sprout a dove’s wings--she cannot will them to or from existence, and they’ll leave in a short time after she’s had the chance to calm down. Additionally, her eyesight upon signing the contract was cured, and she can see small things from a fair distance away. Generally, she’s faster, and able to move more swiftly. She’s also sensitive to sound, and would have a higher chance to discern the location of someone or something.

COLD RESISTANCE. Runs warm. This is minor in comparison, but she’s less sensitive to lower temperatures than most. Wears less layers, or only one rather than two or three. Will still need said protection in extremely cold climates.

BASIC WATER MANIPULATION. Mostly in the form of bubbles, because she thought they were cute. In their present state, she can summon a small handful that doesn’t cause any harm even when they’re popped. It might make for a good distraction! She hasn’t tried anything in terms of actual water or water-like substances.

This extended into healing, using bubbles, foam, or “pure” water to cleanse and heal a wound. At its most basic form, this would only extend to small surface wounds, and not anything more.

ADDENDUM: Eulalie will not be able to heal using her water! Luckily, the water she summons still retains its pure cleansing properties. The more she summons water, the more tired she will get.

Power History:

TRANSFORMATION. Both physical and animal! With particularly intense emotions, she would transform into a small dove in a flurry of feathers. She’d still maintain her speaking abilities, but this effect could last anywhere from an hour to a day. Magically, outside of this, with her feather trinket she could transform into Chuu Rosetta, a dove-like heroine and leader of The Bird’s Chuus.

ADVANCED WATER MANIPULATION. Included more dangerous physical attacks and more useful healing abilities, additionally, she could absorb attacks to make her own stronger, though this was often limited to a few times per battle. Her summoning abilities were stronger, and had more power behind them.

VAPOR MAGIC. Primarily used as a distraction for the enemy, and exclusively came in the form of mist or fog. It has a teal tint to it, making it rather distinct. Inhaling it had no effect, but it would create a thick wall of fog making it difficult to see or move.

Extra:

She’s a theatre major, wants to pursue screenwriting.

As an extension of this, she has a lot of WIP’d scripts!

Very picky about the movies she likes, her favorite genres are musicals, drama, and thrillers.

She critiques them almost as much as she takes notes on them, she’ll carry around a small notepad for this.

Doesn’t like romcoms or romance movies all that much.

Has an embarrassingly large stash of perfumes and lotions from Bath & Body Works, though she only uses a few religiously.

Has a hard time saying no to anyone.

Wanted a pet, but never had one. She would’ve chosen a bird or a hamster, and has a list of names for both of them.

Really liked doing solo patrols as Rosetta. She thought it was relaxing and really freeing; taking care of covets as they formed was a breeze.

Big stressy.

PINTEREST BOARD: HERE.

❖ Nelrunari Section ❖

Ward: Polaris

Player Tag: Here

❖ OOC Section ❖

Name/Alias: Pascal (or) Orion !

Contact: @orirising (main twitter) @plaglacier (rp talk twitter)

Age: 20

Pronouns: he/they

#pc ( orion )#nelru apps #char ( eulalie holmes )

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