#botgd

[hubwalker1]

Listen to Each Other's Heart (Part 2)

[X]

She sighs as she looks out across the hole. "At least you were surrounded by people you care about. I've got Jari and Kettil, but they both have someone and something to work on after all this." She pulls her knee up to her chest and rests her chin on it. "What does the warlord do when there's no more war to wage?"

[lbigreyhound13]

Honorary Big Brother (BOTGD 2)

Continued from this

Dagny and Kari ran through the medic tents looking among the rebels and their allies for any signs of the Arnason men. Dagny briefly considered also finding Nio and Sav, but Liam was the one, who Kezia was after. They had to make sure he was okay first.

"Where can they be?" Kari asked with exasperation.

"Relax," Dagny said, "we'll find them. They can't be too far from here."

"But...w-what if they didn't make it?" Kari asked.

Dagny couldn't help but feel her blood run cold at that thought. What if Kari was right? What if Liam and Vox didn't make it? Kezia wanted Liam for some reason...and there was no sign of them during the final battle. No...she shook her head. No...he had to be okay. They both had to be okay. "We can't think like that, Kari," she said after a moment. "Come on, I bet if we find Daybreak or Kendra or Aunt Tree, we'll find Liam and Uncle Vox."

Kari smiled and nodded before they continued to look.

[moe-lazyeye]

Jugen Turns Himself In pt 2 (botgd 2)

Part 2

"To apologize." Jugen answered, and for a moment, his lips pressed together tightly. But then he closed his eyes and breathed a gentle exhale. "I am sorry. And I've brought everything you'll need to hold me accountable."

He offered up the satchel, which was filled with parchment and document packets. "I fear I've done worse than just putting out a non-fatal hit. Most of the damage is so hopelessly tangled in so many different things that it'll be impossible to undo. So, answering for it in court is the only thing I can reliably offer."

[urlocalbitchboy]

... is there a botgd 2??

[hookedhookless]

Buzzards pt.5

Part 4

"Lots of potential, I'd imagine." He eyed Dixie cautiously. "It all depends on how one would use it."

He slowly approached, keeping his eye on any movement Dixie made.

"We need to make sure that it stays with the right person. A dagger of that much power could easily corrupt. As you just said, Its been infused with years worth of demon essence."

He slowly crouched next to the man, on guard, but allowing himself to trust.

"I don't know if emotions got tied in, but that dagger would be infused with the essence of a confused, and Impassioned demon. We must be careful with it."

[scoutvox]

Cold Fusion [Pt 2]

[x]

"Ready as I'll ever be, Chief."

He swallowed, pushing down the reluctance to climb on Shadow with everything he could muster. His history with dragons was not a kind one, but given the circumstances, the alternatives were few. The scout saddled himself and clung to Grey without regard to anything but his own safety.

"Just get me up there in one piece and I'll owe you one."

[asha-the-viking]

Welcome to the World

April 19. 1071

It was a beautiful spring day when Siri went into labor. 

The sun had not quite reached its peak when frantic knocking disturbed the Haralsons from their lunch. Ander had answered the door and immediately the entire family went into a tizzy. It was Will and he had come to tell them it was time. He had barely finished speaking when he turned tail and started heading in the direction in which he had come to tell Ingrid and Clover (in no particular order). 

And Will had moved so fast, he beat them to the little house he shared with Siri. They found him panting for breath in the main room of the house, door flung open to accept the people that were on their way. 

Katryn, as planned, had gone to the Felmans to play with her cousins and would be notified quickly when the baby arrived (Siri promised). Ander, on Siri's request, was to be present at the house but not in the room with her, and the same went for Clover. Siri wanted three people in the room with her; her Grandma Ingrid, Will, and her mother. Luckily, that was easily accomplished.

Asha bounced anxiously on her feet while Will caught his breath and practically ran after him when he headed to the bedroom. 

“I'll send Ingrid in once she gets here,” Ander promised. 

“Thank you!” Will called over his shoulder as he opened the door. He waved Asha in first. 

“Hi Mama,” Siri said from her place on the floor. She was kneeling beside the bed, her arms folded on the mattress and her head resting on it. She already looked rather sweaty and exhausted. 

“Hi sweet girl,” Asha said softly, lowering herself to the floor beside her daughter. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty awful,” Siri said with a laugh. “I… may have made Will wait a while to get everyone. If he would've had it his way, he would've woken you all up at the crack of dawn.”

“She's been at it for a few hours now,” Will said, sitting on the bed beside Siri and reaching over to re-tie up her hair. “Being amazing of course, but she didn't want to bother everyone.”

“Being in labor is not a bother, Siri Helena,” Asha chastised lightly. 

“I know, Mama. I was fine by myself for a while but things… have really started to pick up,” Siri grimaced and closed her eyes and her whole body tensed. She reached a hand out for Will and he took it, letting her squeeze. “Oh shit,”

Asha put a hand on her daughter’s back. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.” 

“Okay, okay, I need to be up now. This hurts worse,” Siri declared once the contraction had let up. Will stood immediately and offered both hands to help her stand. 

Asha stood slowly, a hand on Siri’s back for good measure. But she stepped back when Siri put her head on Will’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. Siri was well supported. Asha smiled. She was glad her little girl was so well looked after. 

The bedroom door opened and in stepped Ingrid Bergman, Grey's mother and the best healer on Haligan. Will waved her in. 

“Hi Ingrid.”

“Hello… Oh, she's quite far along isn't she?” 

“It started at dawn apparently,” Asha said. “Siri didn't want to bother us.” 

“Hi Grandma,” Siri murmured. 

“Hello dear. We'll have to see how far along you are, but no rush. Seems you've got it under control for now.” 

Siri held up a thumbs-up and Will chuckled. 

“Your mother's in the living room too, William,” Ingrid said, placing her bag down. “They're quite the nervous pair out there, Ander and Clover.” 

Will laughed suddenly. “Oh man, who's going to out-awkward the other first.” 

Asha hid a smile behind her hand. Clover and Ander were both on the quieter side and they both had their awkward moments. And they never had really spoken before. Will was probably right, it was bound to be really awkward out there.

“Will!” Siri scolded. “That's not nice. My dad and your mom are perfectly normal, perfectly… lovely… oh fuck me. Please hold.” 

“Done and done,” Will nodded, holding her tighter. 

Siri huffed and stomped on his foot and he yelped. 

“That's what you get,” Siri told him through clenched teeth. 

Asha and Ingrid both burst into laughter. Will took it like a champ. Siri and Will made such a fun pair. 

Siri turned her head. “I'm… I'm sorry Mama. Sorry Grandma. Will has a… dirty mind-”

“And you don't?” Will interjected, grinning. 

Siri rolled her eyes and continued. “-and… I don't think that's the last time I'm going to swear today.”

“Siri, sweetheart, I've been a healer for many years and gave birth myself. I know what it does to you. Trust me, I've heard it all. You're fine,” Ingrid promised with a smile. 

“I might not use the words out loud, Siri, but I definitely think them on occasion,” Asha added. “You don't need to apologize.”

“Mama!” Siri gasped, faking being scandalized. “My goodness! Thinking bad words? How could you?”

Asha laughed and walked over to her daughter. She brushed a stray curl from Siri's face and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Never change, sweet girl.” 

Siri smiled at Asha. “Thanks for coming,”

Asha smiled back. “I wouldn't miss this for anything.” 

After some time and a few more contractions which were getting closer and closer together, Siri said she needed to sit and Ingrid checked Siri over. 

“Well?” Siri asked anxiously, trying to see what was happening. She gripped Will's arm suddenly as another contraction began. And then she felt a small pop and an uncomfortable wetness. She looked to her mother, concerned, but Asha only smiled. 

“It's alright,” Asha promised her daughter. “It's supposed to happen.”

“Some timing this little one has,” Ingrid chuckled. “That was your water breaking. The contractions will get stronger and closer together now and we are getting very close to meeting your little one. Maybe another hour or so.”

“Stronger? How is that even possible?” Siri wailed. 

“Hey,” Will murmured, close to her ear. He was sitting behind her, arms wrapped around her middle. “You've got this.” 

“Easy for you to say, you don't have to do anything. And this is all your fault. How is that even fair?” 

“Yeah, I'm gonna let that one go,” he teased lightly. “No but seriously, you've been kicking ass all day. You've got this.”

Siri rested her head back against him, sighing. And then she tensed, hands scrambling for purchase. Will offered both of his hands without hesitation. “Oh my Gods, that is stronger. Holy shit.”

“Breathe, Siri. You're doing so well.” Ingrid promised. 

Asha had taken a seat on the floor near Siri. She was trying not to hover, as Will clearly had the support and comfort under control, but she was there if she was needed for extra support. Siri and Will's relationship had grown so much in such a brief period of time and it was beautiful to witness. 

“Mama,” Siri said, tipping her head the other direction so she could see her mother better. “You did this twice. You're amazing. This sucks.” 

Asha rubbed Siri's leg. “You're amazing, sweet girl.” 

“Why are you on the floor, Asha?” Will asked. 

“I, um, I don't want to be in the way…” She stammered. 

“We want you here. You aren't in the way,” Will assured. “I brought chairs in here for a reason, please sit in one. Family doesn't let family sit on the floor.” 

Asha stood up and sat in one of the chairs, smiling at Will softly. Siri reached out for Asha's hand and Asha gave it. 

Siri squeezed Asha's fingers. “I want you to be one of the first to meet my baby, Mama. I want you to be comfortable when you do.” 

“Thank you, my love,” Asha said. “You tell me where you want me and what you want me to do and I'll do it.” 

Siri smiled tiredly. And then she froze. “Woah, woah, that… feels different. Holy shit. What's happening? Ow ow ow.”

“Baby's coming down, Siri.” Ingrid said, ruffling through her bag. “How do you want to be?” 

“What?” Siri blinked, dumbfounded. 

“Your baby is coming very soon,” Asha said. “What position feels the most comfortable for you to push?” 

Ingrid looked up. “Thank you, Asha.” 

“Oh fuck,” Siri murmured, shifting. “I need to be up. Hands and knees, I cannot imagine doing this any other way right now. Is that okay?” 

“Of course it is,” Ingrid said. “Floor or bed?” 

“Floor,” Siri said. “I don't want to clean the bed after this.” 

Ingrid laughed. “That's understandable.” 

Asha popped up from the chair and grabbed the blankets and towels from where they folded and put them on the floor before helping Will guide Siri to the floor. Will sat on the floor beside Siri, who leaned against him, breathing hard. He smoothed back a bit of her hair and pressed a kiss to it before saying something quietly to her that Asha couldn't hear, but it made her smile. 

And then, after what felt like an eternity and a blink of an eye simultaneously, the baby was officially coming. Siri tried for a few minutes on her hands and knees, but her arms were shaking too much to support her, so she ended up in a sort of crouch, Will helping hold her upright and her hand in Asha's. Siri, who had not cried even a bit the entire time, had begun to tear up. 

“It hurts so much,” Siri said. “It hurts,” 

“I know, I know. Big deep breaths, Siri. You are so close,” Ingrid promised, placing a gentle hand on Siri’s arm. “You're doing great.” 

“You can do this,” Will encouraged, meeting her eyes. “You're so strong.”

“We're all right here for you,” Asha promised, squeezing Siri’s fingers from her spot on the floor. So much for not sitting on the floor, Will, she thought. She ended up back down there anyway. 

A few more minutes of pressure and pain, a few yelps and screams later, Siri, chest heaving, flopped back against Will as a shrill little cry filled the room. 

Will caught her in a firm hug. “You're so fucking incredible,” he told her, leaning his head against his. 

Siri’s smile was bright as she looked to Asha, who had teary eyes at the sound of her first grandchild’s cries. 

“Siri, Will,” Ingrid said, rubbing the tiny baby with a towel. “Congratulations, you have a beautiful little girl.” 

Ingrid beamed as she placed the wailing baby on Siri’s chest. Siri and Will’s arms immediately went up to hold the baby there protectively. 

“Holy shit,” Will muttered, tears in his eyes. “We have a kid.” 

“She's beautiful, my darling,” Asha said softly. The baby had a decent amount of dark hair already and Asha swore she could see some curls. Just like Siri's hair.

The baby settled at Siri’s gentle shushing and her newfound warmth and grew quiet. Siri looked in awe at the tiny, wriggling child placed on her chest and lifted a shaky hand to trace her face with her index finger. “Hello pretty girl. I love you so much. Welcome home.” 

Siri carefully dipped her head down to give the baby a tearful kiss and then suddenly started laughing. 

“What? What's wrong?” Will asked, concerned, looking frantic. 

“Nothing, it's just… I forgot about the ears!” Siri said through her laughter. “They're so cute!” 

And sure enough, the baby had two little cat ears like her father. They were a bit folded and squashed but would not doubt perk up in time. They too were dark, with some orange and brown flecks already visible. Tortoiseshell. 

Will gently touched a tiny ear with his own finger and it twitched a bit. “She's… she's perfect.” 

Asha pushed herself to her knees and leaned over to give Siri a kiss on the head and one to Will as well. “Congratulations,” she said warmly. “Do you want me to go tell Ander and Clover?” 

“Not until you hold her,” Siri said. “Please?” 

“Oh! Alright.” Asha sat back on the ground and Siri carefully passed the baby into her arms. Asha gasped softly. It had been eleven years since she had last held a baby. She had nearly forgotten what it felt like. And what an honor to hold this baby.

Asha looked down at the beautiful girl, her first grandchild, and couldn't help the tears that started up again. Everything she and her friends had done, everything with the Rebellion, all of the pain and the struggle and the loss, had led them right there to that moment. And somehow, that made everything a little more okay, a little more worth it. Two children of the Rebellion had welcomed a brand new little life into the world. It felt like a metaphor. It felt like hope.

Asha hoped that this little girl would grow up in a safer, kinder world than even her own girls had been raised in. Maybe this child would see the end of the Rebellion once and for all.

Asha cradled the newborn close and looked down at her sweet little face. "We are so happy you're here, little one."

Kara Andrine, daughter of Siri Haralson and Will Verdile

[battleofthegroundeddungeon]

Shadows of the Father

The palace halls were quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked them so. Even though he had no reason for immediacy, he found his pace increasing. Torchlight to torchlight, shadows flying wildly across the wall, these apparitions were Egil’s sole company as he crossed from the throne room to his private chambers.

Egil always felt alone, anymore. And he always felt like something was following him. Shadows pursued him, and not just the physical ones. Good days, bad days, quiet days, chaotic days, stressful days, more stressful days, solemn days, aggravating days—at all points, he couldn’t escape the shadows of his father. The ominous darkness of Gareth’s death and the legacy he bestowed upon Egil were two shadows Egil could’ve done without.

He’d never wanted to be king. He’d never deserved to be king. Why the Helheim had the Powers that Be approved his coronation? He was the most powerful man in the Wilderwest, technically, but he couldn’t feel more helpless and trapped.

He passed a few guards, presumably the only people awake this time of night. But then he spotted several long-stretched shadows flickering ahead. They dissolved into Avara Aslaug Haddock and two diminutive forms.

“Egil,” Avara said, before he could slip down a side hallway.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this late,” Egil remarked.

As if on cue, eleven-year-old Eva broke into an enormous yawn, which got passed to Sara standing beside her. The hours were late for adults and his daughters looked miserable standing here.

Sara said, “We can go to bed, right? I’m tired, Daddy.”

Avara forced out a belabored smile, thin, little more than a perfunctory stretch of her lips. The smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m afraid we didn’t leave Brega’s until late.”

Egil shrugged and said, “Ah. Something hold you up?”

“Oh, the trip went without a hitch, didn’t it girls?” Avara tried to make her voice light. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but no one, not even Egil, caught the expression. Instead, Sara was saying again, “I’m tired,” while Eva, prompted by the mention of their trip, was descending into a tangent about the ducks they passed near a creek. Both Egil and Avara ignored it.

“Well. That’s good.” Egil didn’t know what else to say to his wife. Avara was slowly herding them to the bed chambers, and Egil fell in line with his mismatched family.

“Daaaaaddddy, I’m tired.” Sara clawed at Egil’s sleeve, and belatedly, he picked his younger daughter up. She was getting heavy for this and holding her felt unnatural.

“We’re all tired,” said Avara. “The trip is a little hard for a woman expecting.”

This time, Egil comprehended what she was getting at. “I couldn’t have gone. I’m the king, if you don’t remember.”

“Your father’s got time for you, doesn’t he?” crooned Avara to Eva, sickly-sweet. Implied in it was a barb Egil didn’t miss, if only because they’d had the conversation before.

“Girls, let’s get you to bed,” she continued, maintaining that soft voice.

“I could sleep for WEEKS!” Sara said.

“I bet you can,” Avara said. Her pace quickened. “Egil, you’ve got Sara?”

“Of course,” he answered. Sara was feeling floppier; she’d fall asleep in his arms if he didn’t get her to her room. The two girls’ rooms were next to each other, so Egil was forced to walk beside Avara, and even after setting Sara down on her bed, couldn’t leave without Avara’s notice. She came out of Eva’s room about the same time, and, with more firmness in her voice now that the children were out of earshot, said, “You really should be doing this when I’m due soon.”

"Sorry."

"You didn't think about it."

“Sorry for not thinking about taking them to my ex-wife.”

She pointed out, “They’re your girls.” Then, in a cruel parrot, “I’m not their mother, if you don’t remember.”

"Step-mother."

“And of course I love them. But this is something you could step up on. The trip happens once every three months. It’s hardly much of a responsibility.”

“If it’s not much of a responsibility, then why are you shitting on me for it?”

“Because I’m always doing your job!”

“My job is king. If you don’t remember.”

The two paused outside their bedroom door. Their faces mirrored displeasure.

There was a long, pregnant pause before Avara undercut, lowly, “I’d believe that if you took the kingship seriously, too.”

There couldn’t be anything more serious than Gareth’s death, than Egil’s awful descent to the throne, than the noose slipping around his neck every time he was expected to weigh in on foreign policy or local economics or the appointment of ministers. Ticked, he vomited out a “What the Hel?” before he realized he was speaking. Since it looked like she was waiting for a better response, he continued with the only other thing he could think of: “I do take it serious.”

“Do you? Then why haven’t you accomplished anything?”

“Now that’s l—”

“Am I supposed to believe you’re ruling when you slip off to the thirtieth ‘dragon stables inspection’ instead of entertaining dignitaries?”

“Is that what we’re calling feeding my dragons now?”

“No. It’s about what you’re avoiding, Egil.” Avara rolled her eyes. “You avoid Bre—”

“Who wouldn’t?” muttered Egil.

“You stop that! You stop that and listen. You avoid three-minute conversations with Brega to the detriment of taking care of your daughters. You avoid your royal duties, your actual duties. You avoid me. Egil, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Inflamed and insistent: “It’s too much. I’m busy.”

“I’m your wife, Egil.”

“Damn! Do you want me to spend time ruling the throne or don’t you? Because that’s becoming unclear.”

“I couldn’t BE more clear!”

“You could BE more supportive!”

“Of what? Your cowardice?!! YOU should be supportive of ME!”

Raised voices echoed through the hall. Egil sucked in a shaky breath. Avara squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead.

“Egil,” she bemoaned, trying to rein in her frustration. “If we’re going to make this work, you have to take ownership of yourself. Everywhere. Quit running away.”

“I’m trying to make this work,” he insisted. Didn’t she see him in the throne room every day, forcing himself to do what he hated most? Didn’t she hear him trying to talk this out now? What more could she expect? If she wanted more time with him, that’d take away from his kingship. If she wanted him to spend more time ruling, that’d take away their time. Couldn’t she respect his hard work? Couldn’t she at least acknowledge he was trying?

“No, you’re running.”

“Fuck this. I’m out. You want running? I’ll run.” Egil began to back away. His eyes locked into hers for several cold seconds before he whirled about, leaving her alone in front of their bedroom door. If she didn’t appreciate his presence, she could sleep alone tonight.

The palace halls were too loud. He didn’t like them so.

[dario-the-deer]

Move On, and On, and On... [Pt 4]

[x]

"You cannot be serious. Do you hear yourself?"

"Anita."

"Your son has a chance at a normal life... or at least, more normal than what we knew at his age... and you're still going to push this?"

"Push isn't te' right word, and ye' know it."

"Oh, no, you're right! Forgive me, I forgot that you can read my mind."

Her silhouette was lightly illuminated from behind; the glow of the hearth gracing her every detail as she stood with arms crossed, staring daggers into the elk sitting across from her. Luca kept his head propped up with one arm, the other laid out on the table and tapping his fingers against the splintering wood grain. The half-breed looked up to meet her eyesight, giving an exhausted grin.

"Isn't that what yer always expectin' of me?" He chuckled, pulling his arms to his side as he leaned back in his chair. "Always anticipatin' yer every need, Anita."

"This isn't funny." The doe half-breed's expression remained solemn, and her toned conveyed a sense of gravity that neither of them could possibly ignore. There was a palpable tension in the air. "You and I talked about this, Luca. We agreed that it's too dangerous for him to be doing this at all, let alone learning new incantations. Could you-"

Her voice seized with her throat, forcing her to swallow heavily.

"-could you live with yourself? If something happened to him?"

Before the elk could formulate a response, the pair were met with the sudden sound of crashing wood panels, causing both to jump in their chairs. Luca did not need to turn to face the disturbance, knowing full well what - or rather, who - was behind him.

"C'mere, Dario."

The young stag looked forward with a visible fear; a trembling in his frame born of youth and uncertainty. Gently placing the scattered stray wood boards along the wall of the hallway he found himself in, he gently dusted off his shirt before stepping into the light. The soft features of his face were accented with amber glow; a mixture of his parents in his blood, life and limb.

"...so it's really that bad?"

Luca looked over to Anita with a combination of frustration and regret before turning to face his son.

"No, no, look... it's... more complicated than that, I promise ye'." As he spoke, Luca pulled a chair next to him and motioned for Dario to sit. "We're just tryin' te' figure out what te' best thing fer us is with everything goin' on."

"You know how dangerous it is for us here. We thought there may have been a chance for it to get better, and there still might be... but we have to be careful, Dario." Anita took a chair at the head of the table and positioned herself to face him, taking his hands in her own. "You have so much talent... so much good to give to this world. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"We don't want to see ye' get hurt, son." Luca's tone was softer - an occasion reserved for when he was his most sincere. "Sometimes, yer mother and I... don't see eye te' eye on things, and that's okay."

Dario looked to his hands in his mother's own. There were so many similarities that he hadn't noticed before.

"I don't want to do anything to put you in danger. I'm old enough to know what's... right, I guess. I think I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to be doing anymore. It's all so... terrifying."

Anita pulled her hands away; she desired to comfort him, but knew he needed his agency.

"That's growing up, Dario. There is much to this world that will scare you - there's so much that still scares me, especially here in Central." Her hand reached in front of Dario across the table, finding itself inside of Luca's. "But we came here for a chance at a better life, and we won't find that by being afraid, will we?"

Luca squeezed her hand gently; the light painted the right half of her face in a way that convinced him that she was truly ethereal.

"What I've taught ye', Dario... it's not fer nothin'. Yer old enough te' know what's happening, and it's... not good, son. We're talking exile, torture... death." Luca found a moment to pause, letting the weight of it sink in. "The time we've spent together might be one of te' few things to keep ye' alive, but yer much better off keeping a low profile. If ye' never 'ave to use magick again, it may be the best thing fer ye'."

Luca pushed his chair back slightly, pivoting to move around and kneel in front of Dario, just next to Anita. Placing a hand on the stag's shoulder, the elder elk gave a piercing look into his son's eyes.

"But if ye' ever find yourself with yer back in a corner, and ye' don't know what else you can do... I want ye' to fight like fuckin' Hel, do ye' hear me?" For the first time in Dario's recent memory, he could hear his father's voice begin to shake. The young stag's heart ached - he'd never seen his parents this way, but he could sense the urgency and immediate need to understand their words. Luca remained locked in his gaze. "Ye' fight like Hel, and ye' win, Dario. Do not ever lay down and give up. I need ye' to promise me this, son."

Dario blinked a few times, feeling the moisture beginning to collect in his eyes. There was fear, but there was a confidence that could only be instilled by the man who taught him everything he knew. Just beyond his father, he could see the warmth of his mother's eyes looking upon him. He wished this moment would last forever.

"I promise, dad. I promise."

[hubwalker1]

Gleam and Glow

Lila had stepped away from the reunion, wanting to give the family some privacy after such a traumatic series of events. She herself was overjoyed and more than a little taxed emotionally, if not physically. She wiped a few stray her eyes as she stood near the edge of the crater again, looking down.

One thing was still bugging her. Well, one main thing. Where was Liam? Or, whatever he was now. He had yet to make a reappearance since he'd ripped a hole into their shared mindscape. She wanted to at the very least check up on him after everything that had happened within the last hour, let alone the final battle.

As she thought of ways to find him, a thought occurred. Vox had described him as being godlike, so perhaps he followed the same, or similar rules.

"Liam? Are you there? It's me Lila." She was no stranger to prayer. Her father had brought her and her siblings up on it. She hoped it would not fail her now. "If it's possible, could we meet?"

[lbigreyhound13]

Silhouettes, Part 3 (BOTGD 2)

Continued from this

@furibotgd

“Keep it up, Kari!” Dagny said as she loaded yet another arrow and fired it at the soldiers.

“I’m trying, Dags!” Kari shouted back. She was sweating and wiped the sweat off her brow. “What do we do if we run low on arrows?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Dagny replied as she fired another arrow.

[moe-lazyeye]

Race to the Edge pt 4 (botgd 2)

Part 3

"I will be here until every shard of every soul has been sorted, and sealed." Hel answered, and then gave him a coy smile, as she read his expression. "And before you run off to ruin my reputation, just know I get to be my proper bitch self elsewhere."

She settled back in her seat. "But here...I get to foster something that I had never been afforded before. I need it. And the souls that come here, including you, including the Norns, need it too..."

[lbigreyhound13]

Lila led the Rebellion down to the cavern, and the Felman family was not too far behind. Grey and Brandt mounted Shadow while the kids mounted their respective dragons. They flew down following Lila’s flames.

“So…umm…I might be a little lost here,” Sven said as he flew close to his sisters while their parents were in the lead, “but who is this Kezia we keep talking about?”

“Uncle Vox told us about her while we were trying to get that beacon back,” Dagny said from where she sat on SkySinger. “Apparently, she was one of the leaders of High Central. She and Darien are the ones who basically started all this.”

“The persecution of the half-breeds…the dungeons…everything,” Kari added.

“Wait…Mom, did you know her too?” Sven asked.

“I didn’t know her,” Grey answered keeping her eyes forward, “but I knew of her. I knew she was assassinated a long time ago, but that was essentially it.” In all the years Grey had knowledge of the mistreatment and High Central, the one thing she was very limited in was the three leaders of High Central. That changed of course when she finally met Darien, but Kezia was always in shadows. It was hard to put a face to a name with her, and that was about to change. “Listen, guys, I don’t know what exactly we’re facing down here with Kezia, but I want you all to stay close. If it gets to be too much, then you need to get somewhere safe, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the three teens said in unison.

“We’ll be okay,” Brandt said placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

Grey smiled at her husband. “I know,” she said. “It’s just…this is likely going to be our last battle, and there is no way Kezia is going down without a fight.”

Rumble PT 2

[Previous]

Indigo let out a little growl when Lila jumped right in without hesitation, and knew this was an excellent moment to dive right in.

To prove even more how dedicated he was to helping this cause and these people. To being an ally, and one worth keeping. Worth trusting. The Indigo Phantom got to his feet with a burst and ran full speed towards the hole, Storm chasing right on his heels.

He didn't even mount the dragon, letting out a holler, almost a war cry, maybe the screech of a fury, and jumped in after the leader, his dragon companion on his heels.

They met up midair effortlessly and vanished into the red tinged void below, the wing whistle and roar of a night fury coming out after they'd vanished.

He didn't even see Indi, perched hidden inside one of the many holes in the walls, watching them, since they were going so fast.

[urlocalbitchboy]

*digs my old roleplay character from years of ash, dirt, and blood, and throws it at you*

[battleofthegroundeddungeon]

Training the Gauntlet (Part 3)

Part 2

Egil: Egil could sense the heart behind Stonegit's actions. And much was appreciable. He couldn't get behind all of Stonegit's thoughts, though, so while he paused and listened to Stonegit, he did also belatedly take one - one - step back.

"Not sure everything that can come out of us should," he said regretfully. "Or. Or, like, at least, we don't need to think about it as 'good' character development. It'd development, neutral. A person could go one way, or another, equally valid. Just because someone could - could hypothetically - become great at chess, or dragon riding, or sword fighting, or war, or writing - it - it doesn't mean that's what should come out. They can do none of those things, and their life will be as fine for it."

Maybe I don't need this 'development.' Maybe I don't want it to come out one way or another.

Stonegit: Stonegit could sense he had lost Egil, but only by the single step he had taken away. The new King had misunderstood his meaning.

In Port Krum, the phrase Stonegit had said essentially meant that if people did not speak of their problems then, like the cut upon his cheek, violence and rage were likely to arise instead, as opposed to any great character development.

It had taken Stonegit one too many years to realize that his dialect and cultural idioms often mixed poorly with the refined speech and academics of those in a royal line.

He took a step forward, not to chase, but to show that he too was finding the right way to walk through this situation he and Egil had found themselves in.

"I don't ask for words to push you on some path, stress a responsibility, or develop you...I just...I..."

He stopped to take a breath, and he was ashamed to realize that a part of him still feared moments like this. Perhaps it was time for a moment of silence again.

Egil: "You're reaching out with the goodwill of your heart," Egil said. He fiddled with his training sword. "Stonegit, look. You know what I'm bitter about. And it's not that you don't have a point. And it's not like I should have been talking about myself just now." Stonegit's latest response had reminded him of that.

"But."

He paused to spin the sword several times.

"We're here to fight."

There was an indication in those words, not unkind.

I came to spar to help you.

It's your need we're taking care of right now.

"Or," he said, more successfully reaching into his earlier humor, "get your ass back in shape."

It wasn't a request to end the current conversation. It wasn't an invitation to fight again. It was neutral in those regards. But while Egil wouldn't have been able to voice it with such nuance himself, it was a reminder that Egil had been trying, at the start, to make this about Stonegit.

Stonegit: Silence fell.

One that was tense, but not due to anger or any kind of ill will. More that Egil's words had threatened to crack something open within Stonegit.

I did...come to him...didn't I? Stonegit's gaze drifted to the side in thought. I'm so used to trying to help them...did I really just come here to train my craft...or was there always something more?

He then recalled the words of his old instructor, Grunkstomp, as the man recited the words of the god Tyr - "men like us fight to help our minds think, while our bodies are occupied."

Stonegit slowly turned away from Egil as he gripped his training sword in both hands, one on the handle, and the other on the blade.

"Yes...we should fight." He said, as if finding his own way of saying that he agreed with Egil's implication that this matter should be about him. "But like your father, there was never a skill I possessed with any blade that could truly challenge you." His teeth ground as he prepared himself, and wondered if Egil could be prepared as well. "If you want to get my ass in shape...you'll have to fight a bit with what even Gareth seldom faced head on."

He calmly turned back to raise up his blade again. The invitation open once more to sparr. "My words..."

And Egil could see it. The fire so often kept behind the bodyguard's demur, and often tired demeanor. The boy of unbridled passion still alive somewhere within the older man.

Egil: Egil felt it. The fire, throbbing subtly, flames licking about them. He tried to feed it, to make it grow. He lunged, ready to spar once more. As he leaped, he felt Stonegit rise to meet his strike.

Stonegit: With a crack the wood of the meeting blades snapped and echoed across the room. Despite the purpose of the weapon and the damage to Stonegit's arm, the bodyguard nevertheless put more brute force behind his parrys, as if he needed to separate himself from his old ways in smaller steps.

Egil had responded to his shift in temperament and spirit, and so Stonegit had to work extra hard to keep himself from taking another blow. But at the same time, Egil, perhaps for the first time, now sparred Stonegit apart from the man's usual calm, and teaching oriented self.

Now it was all that old passion, and ferocity, only this time instead the damaging rage, there was more clearly what had always been...vulnerability.

The two blades slammed into each other and threatened to splinter as Stonegit's other hand shot out, and balled up into Egil's shirt. His flaring eyes met the King's as his teeth barred from between his grizzled beard.

"You jumped in mighty quick for someone who's heart just skipped a beat." He said in bitter challenge, but again, no malice. Then with a grunt, he used a move taught to him that he hadn't originally planed to refine today, and stepped in to hurl Egil over his shoulder.

An extra safety bump upward of his back, and Egil's generally keen dexterity, saw the King land on his feet, but it was still a disorienting spin.

Egil: "Damn!" he hissed, breathless for seconds. It genuinely surprised him. He took the challenge, embraced the rising heat. He held wood but the hilt burned like smelted iron.

Smoke, flames, spark. Lunge, parry, riposte. Each man moved a different way, Stonegit with his smoldering ferocity, Egil with the elegant but deadly strike of a viper. The fangs and tongue of the serpent rose to meet the tongue of fire.

It was time to get creative - not his strongest suit, but one he'd learned over years of fighting Stonegit. He ducked into a gutsy passata sotto, extending outward toward Stonegit's left ribs. Either he'd be knocked on the head, or he'd manage a 'killing' strike.

Stonegit: The training blade jammed into Stonegit, and pain flashed over the man's face. As if the physical blow had permitted the pain within to manifest. His fingers wrapped around the blade to acknowledge the scoring hit, his mouth paritally open.

Haddock's death. His immediate betrayel of everything he had tried to fix within himself as a result. Facing his old assailant. Breaking his body against Vidar's jaw. Nearly losing the Warden, twice. Endangering her during a scrambling back peddle. A family he adored, that he was nevertheless always scared to fully open up to because of past cpmmunication misfortunes. His old wounds. A marriage and partnership with people he loved but had hurt beyond words more than anyone else.

It all felt like a raging forest fire. Where could the first bucket even be splashed? Would it matter? Would it make any kind of difference?

Stonegit shoved the blade back as he paced a few steps to 'reset the match,'and then leveled a hand at Egil, the fingertips radiating true heat as if to match the temperment of the room. "He is GONE!"

The words ripped from him as a ugly, all too often unspoken, truth to himself.

"And every moment of mourning I have had, that I have tried felt empty. Meaningless! I had mourned so deeply as a child the first time that I allowed myself to be lost to everything I was...and now..." The extended hand balled into an impossibility tight fist. "It's just like he disappeared...like he wasn't somehow part of all of this even to my own mind!"

Egil: Egil's eyes opened wide at the outburst. He instinctively took a step back, just as he instinctively raised his weapon for defense. A jolt of electricity shot up him, mixing with his own fire. His own senses of loss and pain flared up again.

He managed to say, "W-what?"

Stonegit: Stonegit's fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword the way a man having his arm cut off would clamp down on a bite.

He wasn't sure whether Egil's question was literal, given that he had been a child during the time he was referencing, or rhetorical, given the rawness of the confession. He answered nonetheless.

"I...I have spoken of this...to Blunt, to some friends..." He recalled his first attempt to mourn, out facing the sea as he spoke to his King and declared his resolve to do the right thing by his life...not that he could be heard across Midgards mortal plain. "To Gareth too..." His gaze lowered, and then Stonegit gave a little shake of his head. "But none it felt...true..."

Egil: As much as Egil was someone capable of frequent outbursts, he wasn't as adept receiving raw emotion. His tongue usually got tied around something in the process, or he said something that made a person worse. Trying his best, trying to mirror Stonegit, he prompted, "And, eh. Mm. What could make it feel true?"

Stonegit: A million thoughts flew through Stonegit's mind. From his young adulthood to that very moment. A raggid exhale escaped him as a moment of surprised relief took his shoulders before they gnarled once more under the strain of this encounter. So he answered.

"You..."

Egil: Egil tried not to show a reaction, but his face went through five or nine distinct expressions when he heard Stonegit's words. He didn't know what to do. They were honorable, but... "You're gonna find disappointment there," said Egil, throat dry.

Stonegit: "Why?" Stonegit challenged in a quiet voice.

Egil: Egil looked him in the eye with a combination of hardness, skepticism, uncertainty, and... gratefulness, maybe.

"You're not that blind."

Stonegit: "Try me." Stonegit returned.

Egil: Egil stayed silent but his crook-eyebrowed stare didn't alter.

Stonegit: Stonegit remained in the silence with him for a moment, and then closed his eyes. "You do make it true for me Egil...because I think you are also like me." He returned Egil's dry swallow. "You and I...we've always had so, much, to say. But something always kept it check."

His eyes became focused. Very, very focused at an insignificant spot on the ground. "Yes some of it was learning the wisdom of silence, and thought. But there are also few who actually can...or even want to hear us..."

Egil: "Well then you'd be the first," Egil barked with a derisive laugh. Maybe Stonegit had learned something over the years. Egil sure hadn't.

Stonegit: Pain came to Stonegit's expression again. But not the same grief from before. Rather a pain for Egil's sake. A pain that came from knowing a shared experience. A voice unwilling to be heard. Help that would not come...

God in Helhiem...did I fail him? Did I let him suffer the same fate as a young adult that I did?

The thought hurt him more than anything his shattered arm and injured heart could have caused.

"I'm sorry..."

Egil: Egil shook his head. "Don't be," he said wryly. "Like. I'm the one who's managed to piss people off and never take up the mantle expected."

He paused though, and shrugged. "Maybe we are alike," he said. "I don't think it's been easy for us. And I'm not blind either - I can tell you get dissatisfied with yourself sometimes." Like today, despite the fact it would have been impossible for Stonegit, at this point, to be flawless training something new.

Stonegit: "I do...have regrets..." Stonegit related carefully, the grip on his blade a little looser now. "I should have been brave enough to speak with you more candidly..."

Egil: "To chase me off faster?"

Egil's response sounded like a jest on the surface, and he probably meant it only as that, but it was a valid point. As avoidant as Egil was, directness might not have worked. Thus it eased off on the idea of regrets.

Stonegit: "Eegh...good point." Stonegit related as he briefly gripped the back of his neck in thought.

"My point remains. Nothing felt right...but this, with you, did. And I am grateful. You not only invited my words, but you did not balk at them. To some that might seem trvial...but it means a great deal to me."

Egil: "Well," Egil smiled just a little, and gave a slight, respectful nod, "ah. Welcome."

Stonegit: Stonegit nodded in turn. His gratitude in Egil neither dismissing nor over complicating his openness couldn't be overstated.

But there were still some unturned stones to this conversation he ventured to address.

"Understand I hold your judgement in high regard when it comes to your own choices...given this...that mantle of which you speak. Is it anything you can come to me with?"

Egil: "I don't know where I'd even start," Egil said, staring into the middle distance.

Stonegit: "This can be all the start needed if you wish." Stonegit said, as if to open an optional, proverbial escape to the topic.

"The ears willing to hear my voice...I discovered through good fortune-"

He recalled his possession under the Warden and cleared his throat.

"Through fate-"

He recalled mutually poor choices that had resulted in...leas than desirable outcomes.

"Hm..." Stonegit rubbed a hand over his mouth.

"Through...circumstances. Nevertheless, I would prefer you not have to seek so far or low to find such a thing." His gaze became contemplative. "It can make a great difference..."

Egil: "Let's just, ah, keep this as the start," Egil hastily interjected. He wasn't unappreciative, but this was going beyond a depth he thought he could even understand.

He was a retreater. Where his father charged, Egil retreated.

Stonegit: Stonegit gave a slow, careful nod. His posture neither accommodating Egil's quick choice to balk, nor fighting against it. The man had taken a good step forward today. More than that, he had gone out of his way to try and help him without Stonegit having to ask for it first.

"Let's get something to eat." He invited.

Egil: Egil nodded in agreement. "I'm game."

It looked like some of Egil's good mood returned.

Well, it was a different emotion, wasn't it? There was less conflict than when Stonegit had invited Egil to spar, less tension than when they had sparred with sword and word. Maybe it wasn't exactly relief. But it was, as Stonegit had called it, a start.

[hubwalker1]

Ad Astra (Pt. 7)

[X]

While they're talking Lila starts grabbing the rest of the recently opened book and papers and sending them through the portal. It was clear that the information was her but the grand illuminar was not. No sense sticking around.