#((Syla really will just listen to any of her plans and just be like 'okay let's go'))

[mistdrinkersblade]

For the random dialogue prompts: “Please tell me you have a plan?”

"Of course I do."

The confidence in his voice was assuring, at least for the moment. Having tossed a ring to her as he watched Phoebe expertly snatch it from the air, Syla couldn't help but huff proudly. The pair of viera had gotten mixed up yet again in something far over Syla's head. But still, he had listened to Phoebe's plans. Why he had needed to abscond with the ring from a very influential noble woman was far beyond him. But he left the why to her. Hells, he trusted her enough to.

But the getting out portion was...on him. The pair half walking at a faster pace, side by side as they loosened any constraints on their formal wear. "Now, don't ask me if it's a good plan. That wasn't what we agreed on." Trying to laugh to keep himself level headed, Syla cracked his knuckles loudly.

Just in case they had to fight their way out. Even if something in him wanted to fight their way out. And by the sound of the oncoming footsteps? He might just get it.

[sparring-spirals]

yadda yadaa TLOVM S1 e9 liveblog GIVE ME THE ZOMBIES

oh, or briarwoods flashbacks, that’s okay too I guess

cannot stop thinking about the posts re: the briarwoods choosing to revamp their style after the vampire-ing and evil-ing. Like they look good here too (even with Sylas half dead), but wow they really did go all in on the aesthetic after huh. i respect that.

So like, if being a vampire stops you from aging, does that mean Sylas’s silver streaks were... manually put in. Did Sylas go “i want to be a silver fox and no “lack of aging” is going to stop me", and then sit in his bathtub to dye his hair? This is great, I love this so much. Hell yeah.

also: nice, love villains getting fleshed out :)

Sylas, at any given point in time: oh there goes my wife :) look at her she’s so great :) what is she doing? no idea. who knows. maybe summoning an undead army. maybe doing occult rituals with a prisoner in the basement. :) isn’t she lovely :) 

laud-

*scanlan, somehow finding the breath to complain AND shriek in terror about the undead* cass, already having had one near death experience today, flipping a zombie: god someone please kill me this gnome

“percy how many undead are there in your city???” love the implication that this is just a whitestone issue. fucking whitestone, full of stuffy nobles and also the ZOMBIES, also terrible nightlife! only nightDEAD am i right haha

Grog is RIGHT! Zombies DO come from under the ground! normally! listen to the man!!

Well... at least Keyleth and Vax are not flirting with long gazes mid battle. genuinely glad for that. Look at these two awkward beans.

CHRIST Vex. “well, that was kind of hot, but-” ksdlfkjaafhlajfhljzh sjfh i mean mood, Scanlan vex is really, truly, terrible, at expressing softer feelings for people isn’t she. I would say “other than Vax” but no, she really is just. Absolute trainwreck at it.

The zombies DO seem to love Scanlan, i guess they do know he’s delectable.

“Could be worse.” “HOW?” “Could be my arm.” See previous bullet about Vex. Vex you are a menace. (Affectionate.....?) Inside of Vex’s brain, probably: *thumbs up* successful comforting of friend acquaintance we are begrudgingly fond of this FUCKING gnome

*watches them climb out of the roof hatch* I’ve seen this TWDG episode! ... it was pretty upsetting if I recall correctly.

Percy, with VM: can’t believe I’m the only adult in the room.  🙄 Percy, in whitestone: can’t believe I’m the only adult in the room?? 😧😠🥺 (PERCY... you are NOT the adult in the room.....:( )

“i need this arm! for.. stuff!”

I was gonna say “I would be keyleth in an apocalypse situation” but you know, i only wish i could be a keyleth.

STOP! MAKING! DRAMATIC! EYE! CONTACT! MID! BATTLE! BANNED! oh he lived. but now he’s talking... very dramatically.... archie... stop that.....

oh god dammit

(man, he got ANIME bisected :( ) aw hell, percy

KEYLETH!!! KEYLETH!!!! :DDDDDDDDDDD

“yes yes, she’s the tits, we still have to go” an excellent scene but ESPECIALLY for that line

percy!!! being the adult in the room! i mean he’s still baby but he’s doing his fucking best and its real good

i also like vex’s softer expression being a little- thoughtless. not even sure she knew she was doing it. :)

damn vax, timing-

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA OH GOD THIS IS MAYBE MY FAVORITE LINE IN THE SHOW NOW. Vaxleth is adorable and i am cheering for them but listen: that reaction to a mid battle confession scene is just. yes. fantastic. keyleth you’re so incredibly valid.

PIKE REALLY KNOWS HOW TO MAKE AN ENTRANCE.

ah the ~character implications~ embedded in the “marry me” “okay, lets go. right now” “What? really?” top notch voice acting from ashley and sam.

okay no jk this convo between grog and pike is my new favorite lines oh god their friendship is so good i love them so much “you’re glowing.. and buzzing.. are you DEAD?”

no hubby ilu we cant endanger u for our evil plans uwu ;*

character details in this fight are SO good. ive refrained from listing all of them but i cant resist saying: vex/vax “give me a lift” and then vax/grog competition.... :D

Y’all wha tNO dont FREE her she is VERY CLEARLY NOt- oh nice see Vax is using the wrench AND the pick again. Seriously how terrible was Krieg’s door. This is going to haunt me for this whole show isnt it.

oh. oh okay that works too.

AW THIS IS A REALLY NICE PIKE SONG. :D

overall:

- fuck, i really do like the combat with VM in this show. i think the tendency to have... everyone other than them brutally murdered makes me more leery of everyone else in combat, but seeing the VM in combat is always so good. so many character details. so nice to watch.

- i am trying very hard not to harp on about this but- *deep deep sigh* romance is. a tricky thing to communicate in shows. i get that. limited runtime, you gotta be a bit more heavyhanded with how you distribute Meaningful Interactions and dialogue space. but. buuuuuuuut. i do wish i could tweak the conversation ratios just a little. just a tiiiny bit. that said, i do understand why they’re paired the way they are.

- Pike is SO good holy shit I adore her. Fuck. Wow. Her arc, the blend of aggression and optimism and touch of crassness, her interactions- oh wow. Adore her, honestly.

-- Addendum to this- I really like the throughline of the two characters with some level of anxiety about their magic working + their worthiness of it/ability to wield it just being. Fucking incredibly powerful when things line up. (Keyleth and Pike specifically).

- <3 friendships within the VM my beloved.

[dancerwrites]

A Deep Breath and Steady Hands - A Julius de Rolo AU

Summary: When his family is killed by visitors to Whitestone and Julius is the only one to escape their clutches, he loses his faith and seeks justice on his own power. But fate seems to have a different idea, when he ends up in the path of a certain group of mercenaries and he finds something he’s been missing. Rating: Teen and up Words to date: 4277

[read from the beginning on AO3] {read from the beginning on tumblr}

Thank you to everyone who’s supported this story so far, and to the people who have commented or left me an ask - it’s super late where I am, but I have started responding, and hope to finish that stuff up tomorrow! (you know who you are ;) )

Chapter Summary: Julius finds some unexpected company while in prison. “But life inevitably throws us curve balls, unexpected circumstances that remind us to expect the unexpected. I’ve come to understand these curve balls are the beautiful unfolding of both karma and current.” -Carre Otis

Chapter 2: Karma and Current

Julius shifted in his cell, trying to get more comfortable on the hard cot provided for him. It had been a little under two weeks since he’d been locked in the cell for “disturbing the peace”, and he was getting anxious. He hadn’t seen Stonefell since getting locked away, and the guards hadn’t answered his questions about the man, or about his own sentence despite repeated requests.

“You just gotta wait,” one of them, Agnes, had said, after only a day of questions. “Either someone’ll come and pay yer bail, or you’ll stay here til yer time’s up. Nothin’ we can do about it. Now keep quiet, and eat yer rations.”

Julius had immediately felt inclined to drop his name and title, but he knew it held no weight after his family’s slaughter. From the little he’d heard mentioned in the village, the story being circulated was that his family had all succumbed to some terrible illness. Then, out of the “goodness of their hearts” and “concern for the citizens” the Briarwoods had taken over the governance of Whitestone instead of returning to Wildmount.

No one knew they had killed the rest of his family and tried to lock him away in order to give themselves a figurehead and keep the people in line.

As it was, he didn’t have the right to be a de Rolo, let alone flaunt the title like it meant nothing to him as he’d heard other nobles do.

After only a couple days Julius had felt feverish and nearly returned his half-digested lunch to the guards’ feet, so a cleric of Pelor had been brought in to treat his injuries from his battle with Kerrion Stonefell. Osahn was older, close to his mother’s age, and though he’d been held with chains while she worked, she hadn’t seemed worried or hesitant about treating him. She had even talked while she tended his wounds, rambling about the cold and the snowstorm outside, and her niece whom she’d just taught how to knit.

It had brought a vaguely nostalgic feeling to his chest that had settled into a sense peace by the evening. That, however, had been echoed by resentment as he fingered the small amulet of Pelor he kept in his pocket. He’d left his past duties, the obligations he had been planning to fulfill, behind him, but there were some things he couldn’t fully let go of, not even after years on his own.

He did, however, appreciate the lack of the sickening heat creeping through his chest and leg.

During the rest of his “stay” a man and a couple woman had been brought in or taken out of the cells, never saying much, probably condemned for minor counts of stealing and such. But they hardly ever stayed for twenty-four hours – a family member always came soon enough, to pay bail and bring them home.

Overall, his stay was getting monotonous after close to a fortnight, and the lack of action had Julius pacing the cell at night, various thoughts and memories haunting his waking hours like the bats that hung in the rafters above him. Stonefell had mentioned the Briarwoods’ “plans” before knocking Julius out, and Julius couldn’t help but wonder if the man had gone to Whitestone to retrieve the couple based off how long he’d been gone.

The thought of seeing them again turned Julius’ stomach and made him pace his cell to relieve the excess energy, but the faint whisper at the back of his head was ready for action. He knew he would fight to the death if they came face-to-face again.

He looked up at the ceiling as a dripping noise made itself known – a leak that let melting snow seep through the roof of the prison. The weather had gotten colder, and the snowstorm Osahn had mentioned had become a blizzard overnight, if the guards’ conversations were to be believed. It would be a plausible reason for Stonefell’s delay, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.

Julius brought to mind the Briarwoods’ faces on a whim, then shuddered at the memory of Sylas’ cold stare, Delilah’s simpering grin, and the gentle touches they shared. Those touches, that warmth between them, parodied the memories he retained of his parents in the worst possible way. He clenched his fists, feeling antsy again, a prickling feeling running over the back of his neck and down both of his arms.

He wished he could summon his sword to go through forms, but he didn’t want to reveal that particular skill to the guards – they already didn’t trust him (because of Kerrion Stonefell’s testimony, he was sure).

Instead, he shook out his limbs and paced from one end of the cell to the other, spinning abruptly on his heel when he neared one wall or the other.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his feet against the stone, matching it with the beating of his heart, Julius felt the worst of the tension slip away. The repetition and control over some modicum of his life was grounding.

Or, at least, it was, until a ruckus sprung up down the hall, where the guards were stationed.

“Please, if I could explain-“ a young woman’s voice echoed off the stone walls. “It’s really not what you think-“

“I know what we were told,” came Agnes’ voice, carrying the usual monotone with a hint of frustration. “Mister Behrinn told us you were breakin’ into his barn and disturbing the sheep-“

“But one of them was sick – I heard her bleating and I was only trying to-“

“Likely story,” Agnes said, “But you broke into the barn, and regardless of what you were tryin’ to do, that’s still private property. You’ll sit til someone comes to pay bail for you, or til you’ve done yer time.”

Agnes finished just as they came into view, and Julius was surprised at the woman accompanying the tall guard.

He placed her around his own age, but she seemed a bit lacking in self-confidence as she looked around the prison with wide, scared eyes. She had on sensible boots and leggings, but her skirt was sheer and her arms were mostly bare, revealing faint markings on them that appeared to be tattoos. Julius didn’t, however, see any form of fur shawl or even a cloak, and he wondered how she had stayed warm in the chilly north of Tal’dorei.

“Please, my friends don’t know where I went, and they don’t know I’m here – If you see Grog, he’s a goliath, or Pike or Scanlan – they’re gnomes, or Vax or Vex who are half-elves, but with black hair – not red like mind – or Tiberius, who’s a dragonborn…” The woman trailed off in her rambling, and dropped her gaze. “Could you- could you maybe let them know I’m here?”

“You said yer name’s Keyleth, right?” Agnes said with a sigh.

Keyleth nodded, and she looked like she was seconds away from bursting into tears.

Agnes nodded, letting go of one of Keyleth’s arms to rub the bridge of her nose.

“If I see any of them with those descriptions, I’ll let them know you’re here,” Agnes promised, patting Keyleth’s shoulder. “But I’m working, so I can’t go lookin’ for them, right? They’ll have to show up first.”

“Oh, thank you!” Keyleth exclaimed, turning toward Agnes, free arm outstretched as if to give her a hug. “Um, I mean, thank you very much,” she amended, dropping her arm and her gaze, her cheeks turning pink.

“It’s no problem,” Agnes said, taking a moment to fumble with a ring of keys until she found the one she was looking for. “Just doing my job.”

Keyleth was escorted into the cell, and Julius couldn’t help smiling at her happier expression, which seemed to practically radiate joy in contrast to her earlier despair. She was certainly different than the townsfolk who’d been locked away over the course of his stay.

“And look – I don’t think you’re too terrible a person, so keep yer head down, and you’ll be outta here soon enough,” Agnes said, nodding as she locked the door again.

“Okay!” Keyleth agreed, waving as the woman turned to head back to the front door. “Thank you, Agnes!”

Agnes chuckled, the first time Julius had heard her do so, and gave a small salute to the woman before continuing back down the hall.

Julius watched as Keyleth looked around, drying her cheeks with one hand, until her eyes fell on him and she nearly jumped backward in surprise.

“Oh! I-I didn’t realize someone else was here,” she said, eyes wide as they scanned his form. He guessed that she was trying to determine the reason for the rips in his clothing where a sword had torn through them, though his wounds were, for the most part, healed. As a whole she seemed harmless enough, if a bit on the stranger side.

“Not really anywhere else for me to go,” he said, shrugging. He glanced around the cell, at the chamber pot that was emptied twice a day and the plain bed he slept on, a threadbare blanket on top of it that kept out a minimal amount of the winter chill.

Keyleth looked taken aback at his reply, but nodded, scratching her head with her fingers and tangling them in her hair, much like Vesper did… had done, when she was nervous or deep in thought. His oldest younger sister had always had to do something with her hands while thinking, and he remembered her often worrying the fabric of her sleeve or spinning her quill between her fingers during lessons.

“I’m here because a farmer thought I was stealing his sheep,” Keyleth said, as if she were condemning herself to death.

“So I heard.”

The skin on Keyleth’s face flushed pink as she winced. “Right, you were here for that. Sorry, It’s my first time getting arrested. I-“

“It’s quite alright,” Julius interrupted, quite sure she was going to ramble on if he didn’t preempt the rest of her apology. “You were a little preoccupied, and, well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“I suppose,” Keyleth agreed, biting her lip again and twirling her fingers through her hair some more. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut it again. After another indecisive moment, she stuttered out: “I- um- If you don’t mind me asking, that is- Can I know- Could I know- I mean-“

Julius chuckled, and Keyleth winced again.

“Sorry…”

“You want to know why I’m in here?” Julius asked, not able to stop a grin from pulling at the corners of his lips. The young woman continued to remind him of his sister, especially during their speech classes with Professor Anders. The oldest de Rolo daughter had been rather shy at a young age (perhaps not quite as self-conscious as Keyleth), but she’d worked hard at her lessons and found a confident side of her that she exercised with impunity. “I was formally arrested for disturbing the peace.”

“And, informally?”

“I tried to kill a man, and failed.”

Julius really hoped she wouldn’t pry. Keyleth hardly looked the sort to have dealt with death or murder in her past, and Julius didn’t want to taint her view of the world because he’d been stupid. He also didn’t want to talk about his past, but that was beside the point.

When her eyes widened, he worried he’d gone too far, but she simply blinked and tilted her head, face softening.

“Does he deserve it?” she asked.

He blinked, and he felt the center of his chest constrict, an unexpected heat rising beneath his cheeks.

“He does,” Julius forced out, clearing his throat. He wondered who exactly she was, to appear both so naïve and yet so understanding of the pain the world could offer. He was beginning to suspect he had underestimated her at first glance, based on the suddenly guarded look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft.

“There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I can still be sorry that the world is shitty sometimes,” Keyleth said. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and hugged herself, seeming to finally notice the chill in the air. A look back over her shoulder revealed only a thin blanket similar to the one in Julius’ cell, and he could see her face fall as she realized the less-than meager comfort it would give her.

He watched as she picked it up, shook it out, folded it in half, and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl. She tried to pull it tighter and frowned again.

“Cold?” Julius asked, and Keyleth nodded.

“We- that is, my friends and I, we came up to the Umbra Hills on business, and we packed for the trip, but I left all of my warm clothes in the room because the snow had stopped before I went walking, and it wasn’t too cold, but then I heard the sheep and of course they didn’t let me stop back at the inn before coming here. I grew up in the mountains with my people, so usually I’d be fine, but even in the winter we layer clothes so we don’t get too cold.”

“Your people?” Julius asked, furrowing his brow. He tried to come up with a people who lived in the mountains. The only he could think of that lived in the Alabaster Sierras were Mountain Giants, and while he’d never seen them, he knew Keyleth was not of that particular race.

“The Ashari,” Keyleth clarified, shouldering herself and lifting her chin. “I am Keyleth of the Air Ashari.”

Julius scanned his memory for the Ashari, and remembered them mentioned in one of his history books, though there hadn’t been much information on them.

“Aren’t the Ashari rather reclusive?”

“Oh, you know us?” Keyleth asked, immediately brightening up.

Julius chuckled. “I know of them, yes,” he said, “though I’ve only heard stories. I must say, it is an honor to meet you.”

He bowed at the waist in her direction, only slightly because of the lingering pain in his ribs. She laughed and he grinned.

“You’re almost as bad as Tiberius!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I might be on my Aramenté, but it’s not like I’m truly of noble blood or anything.”

“Your… Aramenté?” Julius asked, the word unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Oh, yes!”

Keyleth explained about the journey she was on, about travelling across Tal’dorei and the surrounding continents to visit the other tribes of her people – three beside her own – and told him some of what she might learn from each of them. Julius, who had never had much interaction with magic users beyond the clerics of Erathis and Pelor in Whitestone, his mentor Teilo, or the occasional arcane caster, was fascinated by some of her descriptions.

He asked her some questions, she answered them and asked some of her own, and they built up a rapport of sorts – the physical distance between their cells negated by the easy flow of their words. It was, without a doubt, the most Julius had talked to a single person in years, but he was glad to find it wasn’t as awkward as he thought it might be.

When Keyleth shivered again, Julius offered her his own blanket, citing his warmer clothing and higher tolerance for the winter air as reasons for not needing it. She accepted with only a slight reservation, and Julius had the fun challenge of balling up the fabric and throwing it across the clear center area between them. He’d never been the weak one of the family, but rarely did he need to throw something – especially something so bulky. There was also the added struggle of the bars being in his way, but Julius did manage to land the bundle of cloth only a foot from Keyleth’s cell, where she was able to stretch out an arm between the bars and take hold of it.

“Thanks again,” she said, unfolding her own blanket and matching up their corners before wrapping the new double-layered shawl around her shoulders.

“It was no trouble,” Julius said, smiling. “I’m glad it’s with someone who actually needs it.”

In truth, he was feeling a bit of a chill from the air that was growing steadily cooler as the sun sank outside and the light from the skylight faded, but the company and inane conversation warmed a part of him he hadn’t realized was cold to begin with.