#cazmilan

[aerdendios]

FEBRUARY DWC 2024 DAY 1 - CASUALTY

There had already been about a dozen casualties among the Elite Forces training candidates. A good chunk had quit on their own accord within that first month, realizing it was just too physically and mentally demanding for them. Another handful had been told to leave after showing they clearly weren’t equipped for the training. They would return to their normal units within the military, but would not be given this opportunity for at least another few years.

It’s what Aerden knew was going to happen. Pollux had filled him in on what to expect during the entire process, although no amount of explanation could have prepared him for the exhaustion he currently felt. It was a brutal process and at times he felt as if he were hanging on by a mere thread; but they all felt that way. That was the point of it all, to push them to their limits and then make them adapt and learn how to push beyond those limits.

Despite it all, he somehow managed to thrive. His training with Cazmilan Fin’endal in particular had been a blessing to this entire process. The older man has a punishingly difficult workout routine and never went easy on Aerden during their sparring matches. Aerden never won, and he reckoned he probably never could, but it wasn’t about winning, it was about learning. 

He may not have inherited Pollux’s precision with aiming, but when it came to hand to hand combat, the young man could fight and hold his own. Ever since they had started the occasional sparring at the beginning of the month, Aerden had, much to his surprise, managed to win every single match. He knew he had become a decent fighter over his years of training with Caz and various others, but he hadn’t realized he had become this good at it. 

The trainers had singled him out, along with a couple of others, to be leaders of different teams within the training group. It was a huge achievement and Aerden found it difficult to believe that he, among all these amazingly skilled soldiers, was the right choice for that role. However, he would put his all into it, like he did with everything, and hope he wouldn’t disappoint anyone. He still felt as if he had so much to prove.

@daily-writing-challenge @polluxhale @cazmilan

[vixannya]

May DWC Day 2 - Divine, Tragedy

With notepad in hand, Vixannya slowly traipsed through the completed gallery space, critically eyeing every single painting and display, and making notes wherever needed. Everything was almost perfect. Almost. She had her mother’s creativity and her father’s perfectionism; a dangerous combination when trying to host large events. It all had to be ‘just so’ - a little shift here, a little more lighting there. While she could have hired others to do it all for her, she wanted the spaces in which her paintings were displayed to be in her exact vision.

Vixannya Ana’diel was not a woman born into any particular titles or massive riches, most of what she had now she had earned all on her own. While her father had been a Lord, he had been wed to another at the time her mother got pregnant with her. It had been quite the scandal among their inner circle, especially since her mother and the Lord’s wife were best of friends. Not that the particular situation was rare by any means among the upper echelon of society.

Her mother made decent money and the Lord paid her off well, so their little family was never hurting for gold. Yet it never seemed fair to Vixannya that her mother should have to lose so much for something that wasn’t entirely her fault. The women always seemed to suffer more, didn’t they? Had she the power back then that she does now, she may have done something about that. But these days? She and her father, Inistellan as he now went by, were on better terms. He grew, he changed (literally), he had apologized for the part he played, and she had forgiven him.

Of course, the information that he was her father could never become public knowledge. The records all indicated that Cazmilan Fin’endal Senior was her father, but he had ‘died’ years ago. Instellan Volanthus was no longer that man and she would keep his secrets. It gave her leverage over him.

“This is absolutely divine, I don’t know how you manage to outdo yourself every year, but you did it again.”  The masculine voice chimed in from behind her.

With a smile, she spun around to regard her father, “I wasn’t sure you would make it, and thank you. I’m assuming you won’t be staying for the actual opening though, mm?”

He shook his head, stepping forward to embrace his daughter in greeting while offering a kiss to her cheek, “You look we—”. The sentence was cut short when Vixannya suddenly and violently arched her back within his grasp, eyes rolling up into her head as her body began to spasm. “Annya!” He quickly laid her onto the floor, rolling her onto her side before retrieving his comm from his pocket.

Just as quickly as it came on, it ended. “No.” A hand shot up to stop him from calling for help. “I’m fine…”

Stellan gave her a doubtful and worried look before it suddenly dawned on him: She had a vision. “What did you see?” Her original vision of his death had him dying of old age, a vision that had persisted throughout the decades of their lives, never once changing.

She wet her lips, pulling herself up into a seated position to catch her breath. It wasn’t the first time this had happened to her, nor would it be the last. While blood scrying was the best way for her to foretell death, occasionally it presented itself to her unexpectedly. And much of the time, a tragedy of catastrophic proportion followed sometime soon after. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she winced a bit before shaking her head. “I’m not sure…I couldn’t make out faces. There was just….shadowflame everywhere, and screaming. Argent banners, and a bunch of multi-colored tents.” She gave him a pleading look, “You shouldn’t go back out there.”

“You know I have to.”

“Then move the camp somewhere else…please. Tell them they need to move it.”

Stellan remained still for a moment, staring at her with an uneasy look. “Vixannya, let me help you get to–”

“NOW! Go NOW! Please! I’ll be fine, I promise. We’ll catch up later, but this is more important.” 

If anyone understood the importance of haste when it came to precognition, it was their family. “I’ll get them to safety, I love you.” 

Vixannya watched him run off before exhaling a long sigh as she rubbed at the side of her neck. The last time this happened, she had witnessed almost an entire unit of soldiers get wiped out within The Maw. She hadn’t been able to discern that it was Aerden’s unit, so she wasn’t able to act quickly enough to keep it from actually happening. Thankfully he had survived the ordeal, but just barely. She should have known, she could have stopped it from happening. 

Maybe this time she wouldn’t be too late.

@inistellan​ @daily-writing-challenge​

[dicenne]

Hello, lovely heart! Imagine a sweet rendezvous in the realm of roleplay magic: If each of your endearing characters could extend a sugar-coated invitation to one or two past RP companions, who are the cherished souls that would make your story sweeter both in and out of character? No matter the circumstances of the parting. 🌸✨

I'm not gonna do this for every character, cause honestly some of these people go across multiple characters (and I have so many characters..). So first, @felonous without a doubt (which also include @daxionsunvale @abraaxas @gaebral @xanelen @calebbe @gabbrialla @cazmilan @tylennaeva since those are all his alts). He and I have almost every single one of our characters (aside from my new ones) attached to the other in some matter, so I still mention him in stories and in-game all the time and they are all still around in spirit, the mun just doesn't play any longer.

Also miss me some @themadamelioness and @songbrook, two of the most amazing writers I've ever met through this game. There are plenty of others who have left the game or moved onto other games, but I have a tendency to collect online friends that stick around for a long, long time who enjoy playing the 'slow burn RP' game with me.

ty anon!

[turning-through-the-never]

CHARACTER BLOGROLL

*Click names for individual tumblrs*

Dicenne Amberlight In-game Name:  Dicenne (WrA & MG- H) Blacksmith, Succulent Tart Performer, Escort Artist: Merwild

Tristenne ‘Red’ Darkmorn In-game Name: Tris (WrA - H) Master Gunner of the Lady Lillium (works with @rylandfalkov and @felonous), Tattoo/Branding/Piercing Artist, Uncle of @taricdarkmorn Artist: Noiry

Xylaes Qin’oril In-game Name:  Xylaes (WrA - H) Mercenary, Escort, Father of @garrennorassin Artist: Merwild

Jace Landon In-game Name: Jaayce (MG - A) Darkmoon Faire Musician, Private Investigator Artist: Azperja

Tazindrox In-game Name: Tazindrox (WrA - H) Dracthyr, Member of the Dark Talons Artist: Zoratrix

Pollux Hale In-game Name: Polluxe (WrA - H) Horde Special Forces, Prosthetist, Ocularist, Father of @aerdendios, Fraternal Twin of @ouroandar Artist: istehlurvz

Rhys Goodwin In-game Name: Garrickk (WrA - A) Farmhand in Elwynn Forest, Succulent Tart Crew Artist: Zoratrix

Dajjalen Tal’dieb In-game Name: Dajjalen (WrA - H) Demon Hunter, Mercenary Artist: pirate-cashoo

Vixannya Ana’diel In-game Name: Vixannya (WrA - H) Artist, Gallery Owner, Succulent Tart Performer, Daughter of @inistellan and Half-Sister of @cazmilan Artist: regalart Talonoa Dal’shula In-game Name:  Talonoa (WrA - H) Mercenary, Father of @daxionsunvale Artist: Merwild

NOT PICTURED/MOSTLY RETIRED:

Ka’larnir Blackvale In-game Name:  Kalarnir (WrA - H)

Ashien Suncrown In-game Name:  Ashien (WrA - H)

Cypher In-game Name: Cyphere (WrA - H) **Not all characters are actively played in-game, but could be available upon request** ***All follow backs are from @turning-through-the-never except Pollux, his will come from his own page, @polluxhale, and Rhys, his will come from his own page, @rhysgoodwin***

[inistellan]

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 18 - Precognition

Precognition manifested itself in a variety of ways within the Fin’endal family; no two ever had the same experiences. While many outside of their family that possessed the gift found it to be a burden, they had always found a way to manipulate it to their advantage

Death had been his daughter Vixannya’s forte; she could often see how someone would die by simply looking at them. At first it had been a terrible hardship, but over the years she learned to embrace and love her darkness. After a bit of experimenting, she quickly learned that blood was the best conduit to solidify those images and took to practicing hematomancy. A taboo form of divination, but she used it to her benefit to build herself a career and make her fortune.

Cazmilan had been blessed with the ability to see seconds into the future at any given time. On the outside it didn’t seem like much of a gift, seconds weren’t much to work with - except when it came to battle. He was a near unstoppable force when it came to fighting because he would know exactly what was coming next if he concentrated hard enough. Stellan had passed down the  title of The Chameleon to him, the name of an assassin that had been around and passed down for centuries, and Caz excelled greatly at this position thanks to his abilities.

Then there was Stellan, formerly Cazmilan Fin’endal Senior and The Chameleon, he had taken to his newest life and decided that he would die as Inistellan Volanthus. At least according to Vixannya that would be the case. She saw him dying strictly of old age, nothing fancy like what hung in her gallery, but that was likely due in part to his own talents: His premonitions usually showed him the day ahead. It was easy to avoid death when you saw it happening to yourself, but not quite as easy to avoid being old.

Much like his son, he was able to use his gift in battle, but only to an extent. He could change a specific outcome he didn’t like, but wouldn’t know how the change would affect everything else around him. It was a dangerous gamble. He could warn people of the terrible things that would befall them the following day, but what if telling them only made it worse? It had in the past, and harsh lessons were learned. Only so much could be changed. It was a gift he rarely used when it came to violence and war, but it certainly aided in many other aspects of his life. It had allowed all the comforts he desired and the ability to do as he pleased. In fact, it had allowed their entire family tree to live a comfortable life.

Thanks to Vixannya, he knew that he still had a very long, and very fulfilling life ahead of himself.

@daily-writing-challenge @vixannya @cazmilan @cazthechameleon​

[kharrisdawndancer]

Haunting

Khaeris lay in a bed that wasn't her own. The sheets were rich. The rug she put her feet down on each morning was thick and soft. The curtains over the window were finely made. The window itself looked over the Court of the Sun, not the Bazaar.

Pollux hadn't come home that week. Other Pollux, not her Pollux.

Gone on a business trip. Zandalar? Had he said that? He supplied the military, he'd said, but was that what this trip was?  Maybe somewhere else. She realized should probably be ashamed she hadn't listened closely, but she wasn't ashamed. Despondency came and went in waves.

Though alone every evening, Khaeris could not be disappointed in this. He was too strange. It was both too familiar and too jarring to see his shape. His silhouette was complete and unmarred. His eyes were green here. It hadn't been his 'birthday.' He was generous, and he'd been kind to invite her to stay at his home. It had startled and touched her when he'd let her remain even while he'd left. She could have been anyone.

But he was not her Pollux.

The furnishings leant to squared corners and sleek lines. The same as her Pollux. He still had a rather large and frequently used tinkering workshop in his home and technology was all around her. He had the same smile and the same sense of humor. His voice was the same, even if the cadences weren't exact. He didn't hold his tongue nearly as much as her Pollux.

And he was whole. He wasn't directly in the military--a supplier, not a front liner. He was confident in ways her Pollux was not. He was less jaded, less scarred--both literally and emotionally. He was rich and flaunted it, reveling in the attention and winning people over with smiles and charm so smooth you might not even feel it wind around you. His suits were custom tailored to him, the fit flattering and the styles new.

It felt surreal. It felt subtly wrong. Everything here did. She rolled over, heart quiet. She wanted to pretend she didn't belong here. But she knew she should have been comfortable in this universe. She should have felt some sense of home, right? This was her origin. She would never see the place (the time?) that was Home. She should settle in and find her feet.

Instead, she pulled them in under the warm blanket. Tomorrow, she'd carve out time for another look. Another heartbreak.

___________________________

She had been shocked, and she knew her complexion had gone ashen. The records were complete. Woodenly, not musically, she had thanked the clerk as she absently floated out of the Registrar office.

Pyraelia was dead here.

Dead. Of her hemolytic disease. Her sister had not saved her. No pact. Her parents were still alive... Fiorenze had a daughter she'd given her sister's name. But her Pyraelia was not here.

Khaeris found her steps had taken her, unsought, toward the Shielded Mind. It was not the Shielded Mind. Not the clinic where she'd spent hours on the porch laughing and talking with Pyraelia.

It was a general goods market of shops. She dashed down the steps as soon as she'd climbed them.

____________________________

Was the war the same there?

Had her Helal been at Darnassus? Was the Kaldorei city saved in the other timeline? Was everyone safe and celebrating the defeat of the Legion? Please. Please please.

She'd seen the Battlemage. His runes had shimmered as he confidently strode the streets of the Royal Exchange. She'd sought him out, but then hesitated. This wasn't her Helal. His eyes were both intact. His gaze had caught on her with no recognition, though his wolfish grin for her had been all too clear to read even across the Royal Exchange. It had made her heart jolt and her eyes widen.

The Registrar had smiled benignly at her when she'd looked at those records, too. They were starting to know her well.

This was not her Helal. Her best friend. Father to four. No, this man was still Heir. This man had no children. Had not married Aeni. No children. She had ducked beyond the crowd and lost him, all the while stroking the runed and enameled bangle her Helal has procured for her.

__________________________

Andaeros Dawnflare. His strong shoulders and that big, confident smile. ... But. But not following Feywren as a bodyguard.

Not her Andaeros. The Registrar knows that he's still a Spellbreaker. Never discharged dishonorably. Never broken and rebuilt and better for it. No. All the swagger she'd seen on this one made more sense as the pieces slide into place. Did he still tell terrible puns? Did he do calligraphy? Tattoos?

_________________________

They don't let her near the Adzior estates. Her Peacock and the monk are not there. Who are they, here? Ashraen was no where to be found.

_________________________

Caz wasn't with the ballet any longer. Their old coach couldn't say where he'd gone, but he had been gone years, before the Scourge.

________________________

Kenarin didn't own a shop; neither in Dalaran, nor, from what she could gather, in Stormwind.

_______________________

And Iloam had never existed.

______________________

Every night Khaeris finished climbing the steps to Pollux's home, her dance bag hanging over her shoulder and the scraps of her notes from the Registrar's office crumpled in her hand.

This was supposed to be her time.

If that was the case, why didn't it feel like she belonged in this world? She felt more like a figment of imagination manifested. A half-forgotten story.

She slipped into the stranger's house and made herself tea, as silent and as heavy as a ghost.

(( I broke my tags! mentions: @polluxhale @pyraelia @helalthehallowed @andaerosdawnflare @ralaadzior @azadzior @ashraenv @cazmilan @kenpierce @ourcollectivefantasy ))

[caelaenne]

Send ❀ for a crush my muse has had.

Laenne’s lips tug over to the sides as she smirks, then reaching behind her head and scratches the back side of her head,  “I don’t think it will come as a surprise, but a great number of my fellow dancers had one crush all in common, but my adoptive parents strictly forbid me from dancing or training with him due to the fact that they knew his history.  But, that only served to make me want him even more.  But, as unsurprising as this is, the name of this rather...bad boy of dancing is Cazmillan. “

@cazmilan for mentions

[fio-renze]

Are there any other men that catch her eye right now?

“Stellan grabs my eye the way a painting of a forest would. Nice to look at, fun to fantasize about the mystery beyond the trees and wandering the paths, knowing if you stepped off them you’d potentially be eaten and having to complaints about that where he’s concerned.

There’s also the young Lord Fin’endal, who is certianly quite attractive. Had a bit of a messy past it sounds like from all the Court gossip, but he’s a dream to watch dance if you’re able to make it to the Ballet. The nice thing about the costumes is you never really have to wonder what’s below the belt.”

(Thanks anon! @inistellan & @cazmilan mentioned)

[pyraelia]

Pyraelia Aesthetics

NAMES: Pyraelia, Py, Rae

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS: Pride, Joy, Self-Consciousness, Sadness

COLORS: Pink, Lavender, Purple, Periwinkle, Blue

SCENTS: Arcane, Rose, Gardenia, Lemongrass, Lanolin

CLOTHING: Dresses, Silk stockings, Lingerie

OBJECTS: Prosthetic, Jewelry, Knitting needles, Spinning wheel

VICES/BAD HABITS: Depression, Picking at embroidery, Thistle, Wine

BODY LANGUAGE: Lacing fingers together, settling weight back into heels, bright smiles

AESTHETICS: Soft nobility, Pastels, Astronomy, Academia

SONGS: Master Pretender - First Aid Kit || Glow - Luc || Electrifying - The Van Dammage || Everything is Awful - The Decemberists || Phantom Limb - The Shins

Tagged by @ziasilverstar Tagging: @kharrisdawndancer // @cazmilan // @tristennedarkmorn // @gigi-etoileur // @amorthonblackwood

[aerdendios]

There was a comfort in having his father by his side during this uncertain and high stress time, although with the way Pollux seemed terribly on edge, Aerden couldn’t help but feel the same. The elder Sin’dorei didn’t trust the seemingly abrupt decision to move Dalaran to Khaz Algar without sending a scouting party in advance to check and secure the location. The Council insisted that this happen, with Archmage Drenden aiding in the defenses of the city prior to its teleportation. 

Fucking Drenden. 

The rumors circulated heavily and were hard to ignore, yet here they were on the verge of moving an entire city amidst all of that. Pollux had more knowledge of the situation given his high status in the Elite Forces and often conferred with the leadership of the various cities and factions, so the fact that he seemed uneasy didn’t bode well. Then, there was also Annya’s portrait in the gallery depicting the soldier crushed by what appeared to be one of Dalaran’s towers. Nothing about this felt right.

The teleportation itself was an amazing feat of magic to behold. Aerden had never seen anything quite like that in his young life and a part of him was glad to have a front row seat for it. But that feeling didn’t last long when hundreds of void portals began to speckle the clear skies and streets. The eerie silence gave way to the bellowing roars of the swarming Nerubians and the terrified screams of Dalaran’s occupants.

“Get to the evacuation point, NOW.” Pollux’s voice was firm and steady despite the sudden chaos breaking out around them in every direction. Aerden hadn’t quite reached that level of calm amidst battle yet, but this is where the older man thrived - and he was right in the end.

At one point in his life, Aerden would have cowered and hid in a nearby shop, but now he felt the overwhelming urge to protect and save. “I have to help others first.” His voice wavered only just a little bit. It was a part of his duties should anything go awry, and he wasn’t going to run away. That was no longer a part of his nature. 

Pollux wasn’t going to argue, instead clasping a hand over his son’s shoulder, “Please be safe, don’t play the hero. Not now,” and with that the older man melded into the shadows to go about handling his own duties. 

Wide eyes took in the scene around him, making a beeline towards his predesignated muster point to meet up with others from his military unit. His long hours of rigorous training with both the Elite Forces and with Cazmilan came in handy against the enemy. While this was obviously a planned attack, the Nerubians seemed unorganized and untrained in their efforts. The larger ones used brute force but were slow, and the smaller ones were quick but had few fighting tactics. It was all about quantity instead of quality with this particular enemy.

Aerden easily carved his way through the side streets, picking up a few fleeing civilians and military brethren along the way, only to find their path blocked by a crumbled tower. A split second decision was made to go around the outskirts of the city where the swarm seemed thinner and the terrain easier to traverse. With the fighters surrounding the civilians, they made swift work of enemies blocking their path and when the muster point was in sight with portals already opened up, there was a small sense of relief - which was all too quickly extinguished.

All of Dalaran seemed to suddenly tremble, catching a few in their group off-guard and stumbling or falling to the ground. Aerden helped a couple to their feet and ushered them towards the portals as he glanced around in confusion. The Nerubians themselves seemed to be fleeing from something now, and that’s when his eyes caught sight of the expanding cloud of void quickly overtaking the entire city. 

He wasn’t going to make it to the portal - not at the rate the void was expanding. No amount of shielding would help whatever this was and there was only one option left. 

He had to jump. 

There was water below, but could anyone survive hitting it from this far up? Even if he did survive, the debris would be falling right on top of them. There was no other choice: Die to the void or maybe survive by jumping. He wasn’t the only one who had the same thought, looking side to side as military and civilian alike threw themselves from the edge of the city.

It was now or never.

With a running leap, he flung himself out and over the edge of Dalaran. He found it strange that his immediate thought was that he would never get to finish his Elite Forces training. The massive, echoing *BOOOOOOOOM* that followed shortly after was deafening. Dalaran was completely demolished in an instant. The force of the explosion was quick to catch up to him as pieces of rock and other debris had been sent flying, clipping his legs, back, and then the side of his head, knocking him unconscious in an instant while sending him spiraling uncontrollably and free-falling into the unknown.

@polluxhale @cazmilan

[vixannya]

Teatime: How did the ability to see the way someone dies come to be? What are her overall feelings about having this "gift"?

It's an innate trait among the Fin'endals, to possess some type of precognition. Then the blood magic she uses to strengthen those glimpses is from her mother's side of the family. Morbid genetic jackpot! Her father, Inistellan, has the ability to see a day ahead on occasion. Her half-brother, Cazmilan, has the ability to see seconds ahead. She has the ability to see death.

It's a little different for every member of their family, yet every single one of them has figured out how to use it to their advantage. It's why their entire family is well off and amazing at what they do.

At first it was startling, but she had always been of a darker nature so it didn't take long for her to adapt and thrive because of it.

ty @twosidedsana @inistellan @cazmilan

[dicenne]

October Writing Challenge Day 18 Word:  Message  It was late at night, he had already been in bed for at least two hours when his comm buzzed.  Immediately he startled at the sound and grabbed the little device, quickly opening up the message.  Texts that came this late were either never good or drunk texts and his first thought immediately went to his sister.  When he saw that it was indeed from her his heart sank.

Then, a photograph.  Of her….and…. 

Dicenne immediately wrinkled up his nose, scrolling down to the message itself:

‘Sorry for the late text but I just got back to my room.  You won’t believe who I met today, out in Pandaria of all places!  Do you remember seeing him dance, what was it, a couple Winter Veil’s ago?  When we went to the Royal Ballet?  It’s the principle dance, Cazmilan!  I got his autograph too!  I’ll see you soon and tell you all about it!  Love ya!’

Cazmilan Fin’endal.  She better not have any more to tell him other than just about the photograph and signing.  He knew all about Caz, he knew how he could be; they had briefly worked together for awhile after all (which he did not tell Kara on purpose).  On one hand, he was actually proud of her in a way, for being brave enough to approach the man.  Maybe she saw him as ‘safe’ since he was a ballet dancer, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth.  There was nothing safe about that man, but she seemed happy enough in the photo and message.

With a sigh he typed out a message in response:

‘Love you too, I’m glad you had fun, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

@karaamberlight @cazmilan

@turning-through-the-never@kharrisdawndancer@iestyn-crowe@belillinafireseeker / @lianellie-quinne@saltsparkle / @gloamingdawn @lylianwyatte@selysona-wra@darbiebot@andijelly @cupcakes-blood @twosidedsana@eliceynbirch@deadlypursuits@luminashdawnwing @raxwel-blythe / @amorthonblackwood@hmratking @thornbolts@brillraven@ wynter-b@lovingthewildlife@veleanthe @theconstructsworld@waroftwowolves @taliandrahflamesurge / @gam3rj3nn@embraelle @kjblynx@escapism-velocity@rayne-storm @stonestridernerd@centoridellanir@valarin-sunstorm @cyrolar-riverblade@sylrin-featherblade@altherei @trisandrah@riverblade @raevan-muns-supercut @safrona-shadowsun

[inistellan]

October 11th Childhood Fear

Cazmilan Fin’endal, as he was known at the time, had an interesting childhood as he would refer to it now.  Little did he know that he had been born into a very specific lineage in which he was expected to uphold despite his personal wants.  The training and the shaping began the moment he could walk in order to mold him into the best of the best.  

While there was no shortage of love among his little family which included just his mother, father and himself, there was no shortage of discipline either.  Proper etiquette was expected at all times as were perfect grades.  If he slipped in any way there would always be punishment.  He learned very quickly to be perfect.

He did have one imperfection that had developed slowly over time.  Every time he got a question incorrect there would be snap of a belt, every time his attention waned he would be on the ground. Mistakes, no matter how minor, were punished by pain or humiliation. Sometimes both.  

He had learned to fear imperfection.

Atelophobia, as he would learn later.  It had taken over his life to the point of committing all of his waking hours to his studies and training.  If he didn’t get that 100% on his test his father didn’t even need to punish him at this point, he would punish himself and then study even harder for the next test.  If someone bested him in sparring, he would spend four more hours training. He was physically and mentally exhausted but he couldn’t rest, he still had so much to prove!

As he grew older he became more and more accustomed to the cruel hours and high standards he had set for himself.  He also started noticing just how much he had missed out on:   He had no friends, he never indulged in frivolous activities, and junk food was a foreign thing to him.  It continued to pile up over the years and he grew more and more resentful towards not only himself, but more so towards his father.

He was the one that had forced him into this lifestyle. He was the one who punished and humiliated. He was the one that kept him from having a real childhood.

And a year later after Cazmilan was ‘gifted’ the title of The Chameleon, his father would be the first one to die at the end of his blade.

@cazthechameleon

@turning-through-the-never@kharrisdawndancer@iestyn-crowe@belillinafireseeker / @lianellie-quinne@saltsparkle / @gloamingdawn @lylianwyatte@selysona-wra@darbiebot@andijelly @cupcakes-blood @twosidedsana@eliceynbirch@deadlypursuits@luminashdawnwing @raxwel-blythe / @amorthonblackwood@hmratking @thornbolts@brillraven@ wynter-b@lovingthewildlife@veleanthe @theconstructsworld@waroftwowolves @taliandrahflamesurge / @gam3rj3nn@embraelle @kjblynx@escapism-velocity@rayne-storm @stonestridernerd@centoridellanir@valarin-sunstorm @cyrolar-riverblade@sylrin-featherblade@altherei @trisandrah@riverblade @raevan-muns-supercut @safrona-shadowsun

[felonous]

CHARACTER BLOGROLL

*Click names for separate tumblrs*

Captain Felonous Blacksun (WrA) In-game Name:  Felonous FC:  Colin Farrell  *Main Blog - follows/questions come from here*

Abraaxas Ab’eles (WrA) In-game Name:  Abraaxas FC:  Joseph Gilgun

Gaebral Silwyn (WrA) In-game Name:  Gaebral FC:  Peter Steele

Calebbe Val’anir (WrA & MG) In-game Name:  Calebbe FC:  Jason Momoa / Henry Cavill

Doctor Xanelen Deh’lorei (WrA) In-game Name:  Xanelen FC:  Lee Pace

Knight - Master Daxion Sunvale (WrA) In-game Name: Sunvale FC: Jeff Kasser / Justin Hartley

Cazmilan Fin’endal (WrA) The Chameleon (Alter ego of Cazmilan - Also a main blog) In-game Name: Cazmilan FC:  James McAvoy / Roberto Bolle

Gabbrialla Mon’sina (WrA & MG) In-game Name:  Gabbrialla FC: Adriana Lima / Irina Shayk

Tylenn Aeva (WrA) In-game Name:  Tyllenn FC: Francisco Lachowski

*All characters are Horde* **Not all characters are actively played, but can be available upon request** ***Art sources found on their separate tumblrs***

[gloamingdawn]

So how much rage does that Cazmillion guy fill you with?

“About as much as he ever did. He always liked to make me mad. I’m not really mad at him anyway. Hard to get upset at someone following their nature. I’m annoyed at him more than anything. But that’s just kinda who he is. I’m mad at myself for expecting otherwise. 

I’ve known exactly where to find him for years, but I haven’t tried.” 

( Thanks anon! @cazmilan mentioned )

[caelaenne]

Somehow this photo of Cazmilan made its way into her mailbox!

Laenne heads in to the apartment complex  and stops off at her mailbox before heading up to the apartment. As soon as she got up and into her living room, she flopped down next to Mury and started opening one envelope after another until she looked at the one that is unaddressed and rather vague in comparison to the others.  Shrugging her shoulder and lifting up the flap she pulled out the picture and very nearly dropped it as she realized who it was.  The words ‘what the heck’ came to mind as she coughed rather hard and set the photo down with a rather red hue came over her face and she couldn’t help but sit there fanning herself off for quite a while after and sending a text off to her dancing partner as well.

@cazmilan with mentions of @inerris-ianthine