#c — bonds: veona of the circling sea

[shieldborn]

CORRIN DOESN'T SLEEP in the underdark. She waits for Erefein's breathing to become even and deep, and then waits for the little hitch in his breath that means he's truly asleep, and not just pretending, and finally turns away from him and pulls out her dagger. As she tugs her goggles over her eyes, it's not just her tools that come into focus in the dark, but her party too, and she can't help but seek out the sea elf. The rise and fall of Veona's breath is another comfort given by the darkvision, one that pushes against the memory of her limp body in the illithid's grasp. Blooming dark bruises snake around her neck, but they will probably fade in the morning.

Danger is assumed in their work, and even in the underdark Veona is not the first to be badly hurt, but it felt different. Maybe it was because Corrin was so close and so helpless, maybe because the druid is usually so full of life, and the oppressive darkness underground had seemed an especially cruel place for her to struggle for her life. Her hands work as her mind wanders-- unthreading the magic from her gear, components put to the side to be polished and reapplied. It has been awhile since she's had the time to do a deep clean, and there is no more room for error in the underdark. When she next looks up, the dagger almost falls from her hands as she finds Veona no longer sleeping deeply, but awake and sitting up, staring back at her. In the near darkness, her pupils disappear behind a flat reflection of light.

Corrin grabs a length of copper wire from beside her, twisting it around her pointer finger as she mutters an incantation, feeling the soft breath of her words fade soundlessly into the night. When she next speaks, her voice will only reach Veona's ears. "I hope I didn't wake you... are you... alright?" | @strangewonderful

[shieldborn]

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship | @strangewonderful sent corrin & veona

1. Corrin loves Veona's hair. Her own is kept short enough to stay out of her face and not get dirty or in the way of whatever she's tinkering with. And she likes it, but it's equally convenient as it is aesthetic. Everything about Veona just flows. Corrin thinks Veona could be a pretty sea princess if she wanted.

2. Shortly after meeting, Corrin tried to find a not awkward way to offer to look at balancing some of Veona's daggers. Eventually they both figure that maybe weapons are not really Veona's thing and the gesture was kind but it is not a pursuit that should be continued.

3. Corrin and Veona are the most adventurous eaters of the group by far, and Corrin delights and finally finding another person since she left home who finds the fun in snacking and trying new things.

4. At one point Corrin's hair gets a bit longer than usual and Veona offers to braid it out of her face and Corrin feels like she's made a new sister :)

[shieldborn]

corrin tags

[shieldborn]

animal handling for veona & corrin

corrin rolled a [ 13 ]; veona rolled a [ 4 ]

Corrin hummed a little tune as the paved cobblestone streets slowly turned to dirt roads as they left the central marketplace behind. The inn at the edge of town was small but cozy, and after the group had settled in to lick their wounds, Veona and Corrin volunteered to do a food run. The fruits of their labor were stacked in tall paper bags, one tucked under Corrin's arm as the other hand pointed excitedly off of the main path towards a small fenced yard.

"Look! Goats!"

[shieldborn]

Corrin looks down at her dagger, and the blood still darkening the leather of her gloves. Her spell holds, but her voice is still soft as she turns back to Veona. "We'll be out of here soon."

The words are a lie, obvious to both of them. They are making camp wherever they can find refuge, the cold rock of the cavern at her back. The only sign of any civilization so far had been the overrun dwarven settlement and they hadn't even found any bodies. They should reach the drow soon, but that is a far cry from being able to return to the surface.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The words sit heavy in her throat. Too much and not enough. Too small to say what she's really thinking. "I'll be up until this is done, if you'd like the company. Just for a little bit." | @strangewonderful

it's dark. and it's cold.

the dark and the cold aren't unfamiliar to someone who has lived her life in the depths of the ocean, where oftentimes both the light and warmth have trouble reaching the places that veona travels to without question. but this isn't the cool embrace of the waves, it's the still, unfeeling and unforgiving darkness of land.

veona jolts awake. she will never grow accustomed to sleeping on hard earth, not when she's used to the soothing lull of the waves around her. she dreams now of stillness packed red sand earth, cramped dusty-darkness, and longs for home.

the dangers have always been very real to her, but veona is a healer; an explorer and an artist and a curator. she's always on the edges of the action—her touch calls lightning or rises her friends from certain doom. she'd never quite managed to imagine that the certain doom could be hers. and it changes nothing, when there are still mountains and trees to climb and bugs to befriend. she wants to follow the sun from sunup to sundown and learn where she sleeps at night. but veona won't ever sleep a good night's sleep in the underdark again.

"you didn't wake me." if corrin is what woke her, then veona is only more glad for her presence. "i can't sleep in this darkness and this... ground." there's the faintest disgust as she says it. this ground, specifically, and so far below it, leaves a sour taste in veona's throat and the walls of this place make her skin crawl. the ocean, the sky, the grass, there are no limits and no barriers there. any creature is free to roam every inch of the earth. veona longs to feel that free again.