#cordbound

[deaddoveadventures]

@cordbound - cont. from (x)

lawrence's own drink of choice, a glass of deep, red wine, sits nearly full in front of him. at first glance, curumë seems like any other unsavory fellow you might happen across in a too-dark alleyway, the kind that makes you clutch your coin purse tighter to your belt. but he had helped lawrence with his fool's errand, found a number of traps that might have very well meant lawrence's untimely end, guarded his back while they beat away the monsters that swarmed after them. lawrence has a hard time believing that curumë is as unconcerned as he lets on, can't help but wonder what has happened in his past that has led him here, made him who he is. the paladin considers the half-elf for a moment, his look not one of pity or sympathy, but of understanding. "you must forgive my presumptuous nature," he begins, taking a sip of wine as he mulls what to say next. he'd rather not frighten away his compatriot. "what i mean to say is, you do not seem a stranger to grief. and though i have only known you a short while, i feel... inclined towards you." lawrence has to stop himself from a series of mental self-punishments. what a weird way to say you'd like to be friends. "that being said, if you ever want to talk about anything... personal, i am good at lending an ear and slow to pass judgement." another swig of wine passes his lips, nearly half the glass this time to stave some of his nerves. "i just wanted to put that out there."

Curumë studied the man from the other side of the table, his face partly obscured by the shadows the inn’s dying fireplace cast upon the unlikely pair. His eyes had hardened, although his smug smile remained in place. Crossing his arms, he placed them between himself and the mug of ale that stood, almost empty, in front of him.

“Feelings are feelings, and you’d fare best not to trouble yourself with them in this case, my dear knight in shining armor.”

Leaning forward, he reached for his beverage; yet, in contrast to his companion, he moved it aside to leave it untouched for the rest of the evening. A drunk tongue, he mused, was a loose one, and the warlock had no intention of taking up the man’s offer.

“You wouldn’t like what I’d have to tell you, and I’d rather part as allies than with one more enemy to shake off my heels.”

Sinking back in his chair, he relaxed and, almost casually, grabbed the loaf of bread that had just been passed to their table.

“I’ll never understand your lot.” He shook his head as he took a hearty bite out of the baked good. “Why burden yourself with the woes of strangers when you could live to your heart’s content instead.”

[fortunefeather]

The day was just ending and Age'ian was starting to pack up his tent. He'd spent the weekend in some town he didn't ask the name of, telling fortunes in the market. But now, it was time to move on. He tapped his staff against the base of the enchanted tent, the whole thing folding and collapsing in on itself until it formed a cube no bigger than a ring box. His raven familiar swooped it up for him, and he pocketed the item before starting to walk, humming to himself as his hooves clicked the paved street.

"To see the sky, and all the land together again. See the way the earth can stay below. Who do we think we are? Everything plays a part. There are some things we are never meant to know."

He had long come to terms with that very idea, but some nights when it was just him and his thoughts, he dwelled on that. The smallness of himself, despite all he had learned and lived through. Did it plague him? Depended on the day.

He was unaware of any kind of audience he might have as he walked, though Era on his shoulder did keep an eye out, in case anyone decided to disturb her caster's moment of thought.

{ @cordbound }

[driofaire]

At the edge of it all, this journey felt like a fruitless one. Mindflayers, cultists, armies. They were not in charge of an army themselves, though, they had accumulated the most unlikely of allies over these few days, all people who would never have survived where he had come from. "You have not eaten yet, paladin," he said. It was quiet, almost as if he had his hands cupped around a secret he could not share. "You should, before it cools and that hound sticks his face into the pot." // @cordbound.

[f4rgd]

@cordbound : continued (x)

It was habit to match the misery his customers usually brought with them, more often than not they came tried to undercut him in price while he listened to their troubles in silence. They never quite did clock that they smith had gone quiet and was no longer listening - too busy fulfilling their order or at least that's what he would have said, in truth he'd just tuned them out. But this one, he was different, he had an edge to him that he didn't often seen and gods, he wasn't miserable - that made for a good start.

" Sorry, I am used to being ominous, blame my previous customers. They can be... a challenge. " A smile rest on the smith's lips as he lent back against the workbench to give the other his full attention. " I am certain you can handle yourself but, what is it you need? " Once glance towards his shield gave him his answer, but he didn't like to presume. The question, however, drew his attention back to them. " Most of my life, I grew up just outside of it and moved here when I was a child. My father was a smith so, family trade. " The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but he was honest. " Do you plan on staying long? "

[sporefound]

MERCY :  for both muses to come across an injured animal. || @cordbound

on the ground is a robin, flapping & flitting a lame wing. her heart aches for the poor thing. it's red feathers were matted with gore... without intervention, it would die by sunset. the world may be rotten, but it was not this creature's fault. it was small & helpless in all of it.

mercy was not something that came naturally to amanita. it was a valuable tool, in theory... but in practice? he experience was limited. it was easier to provide it in small doses, baby steps towards a change she couldn't entirely visualize on her own. she is too gentle when she scoops the poor creature into her hands, trying to soothe with a gentle voice. 

" shhh, shh sweet thing. " there is magic woven into her words. magic she usually saves for the battlefield, a healing word to mend the flesh. open flesh closes, bones shift carefully back into place. were it a larger creature, it may have taken more. it would have been harder to spare. but less was plenty for this poor creature. she strokes the bird's beak with a soft hand, attention fixed entirely on her patient. it coos at her, echoing her comforting tone. 

for a moment, she forgets she is not alone. she forgets that there is anyone in the world outside of the bird & herself. the tension in her features melts away as she places a sweet kiss to the top of the bird's head, speaking in a language only it knows, " you'll come home with me - just for the night. just in case. " 

she keeps the creature in her hands as she turns to face her companion. ever-present tension returns to her features. she throws up a wall of logic to defend herself, sure that this would be seen as a moment of weakness that the other could file away. a large part of her knows better, but she can't help but feel some sort of defensive - how often were they at odds? how valuable would it be to know a wounded animal could tear her guard down, even for a moment. she wrinkles her nose in frustration. it comes from a place within, but she directs it at him. 

" never speak of this. not to me, not to anyone. " it sounds like a threat that she waves around like a stick, " i'll find out if you do. "

[deathbind]

( the dark nest // accepting ) LAWRENCE HIGHFIELD [ @cordbound ] WROTE: ❝They're wondering what you're doing. To tell the truth, so am I.❞

MEKETI LOTUS DID NOT GROW here. They were brilliant flowers, more blue even than the waters they inhabited. In Meketi, they were mhad apcioy, cradle of stars, for it was said their golden stamen were sleeping stars not yet old enough to adorn the heavens. A myth made more believable by the best tended of these growing as large as a man's head. They were the life to balance death, and often thrived where there was a great confluence of spirits. Thus they had found their way into many a ritual.

He would pay a pretty penny for the petal of one now — or at least some decent incense. He needed answers that mortal lips could not supply, but there were not many spirits here. Either that or they were shy. He'd had to get creative in attracting a few. He'd spent the better part of the day gathering the most fragrant flowers and polishing the few bowls they had with them. They glinted now in the falling sun. He'd nestled them among the flowers, most filled with his share of the sweet wine. The remainder burned with teal flame that gave neither heat nor crackle. It only sang softly.

At the heart of this sat the simple brass cup dangling always from his belt. This he kept empty for now. It was not yet time. Instead, he sat to the side carefully carving a humanoid figurine from wood. Not traditional materials but one learned to make due.

He turned the figurine toward Lawrence as first answer to his question. ❝Shabti. One who will answer.❞ He pointed off to the horizon. ❝When the sun is set halfway, I'll invite the spirits to share a drink with me. If any accept that invitation and answer my questions honestly, they'll have this as thanks.❞ He did not stipulate the answers had to be useful, of course, only honest. Best to be reasonable in such circumstances.

[recitedemise]

@cordbound asked: ❛ can't sleep? hold still. this might sting a little. ❜ / Royal, Fantasy Romance, and Spice: still accepting.

"I know my physical prowess may pale beside that of our githyanki companion," Gale begins, "but to quash any doubt, I'm more than a jaunt away from a shrinking violet." Certainly. The wizard frowns, enduring what agony jolts his arm. He's not ungrateful, however, being a fervent supporter of kindness as he is. Rather, he speaks most plainly, perhaps in a manner to soothe their heart, for pulsating gashes? The bite of a bleed? Being utterly twice-doomed, there's no need for fretting; pain, anguishing, are both his friends. Gods. Gale could laugh were it not all so damning. He's a worm in his skull, ceremorphosis lurked in a corner, and in a flavor that throttles much closer to home, an orb, a rupture, in his chest.

Gale looks to his hand, the spell he'd casted too much to bear. To think that an archmage from Waterdeep could fall so low... A mere conjuring of fire bolt was enough to rot him. "I've dealt with a tremendous deal worse as difficult as it may be to believe. I assure you, I've no intention of making a habit of causing you worry. A high order, I'm sure, considering your nature," he jests. "Though you have my word: I'll better respect my limits."

The night air, autumnal, rucks cold between them. Gale looks to those hands, the ones reapplying the bandages about his netherese rupture. Black blood dribbles, Mystra uncaring and still utterly mute, and glancing quietly to Lawrence's face, shame, he's sure, haunts not just him. "One can hardly blame me for a spell of restlessness. Least of all you. Don't think I haven't realize you're up beside me."

[deaddoveadventures]

‘ bad things happen when angry people grieve ’

various things spoken in an adventuring party - for @cordbound

Curumë hadn't intended to stay with the paladin any longer than needed, but the man had insisted on paying him back for his help in the dungeon. In the end, the warlock had decided that being invited for a free meal and drink wasn't going to harm him any more than the monsters and traps in the dungeon had already. Even if it meant spending more time with Lawrence, who—the half-elf hesitated to admit—wasn't half as annoying as he had feared at first when he had offered to lend him a hand.

All the more off-guard he found himself, however, when the other dampened the mood with his grim comment.

"What are you implying here?" Curumë, not entirely sober at this point, set down his mug and squinted his eyes at his companion.

[odissean]

( star trek iv // accepting ) LAWRENCE [ @cordbound ] WROTE: ❝A ship is a ship.❞

❝NO.❞ ALL HER SMIRKING WIT, all her tale-teller's flair, was gone in an instant. Something dark circled her eyes as a leviathan circled the underside of a vessel, glistening and inevitable. How many times would she have this argument? How many times would she have to explain what was a plain, simple truth?

His lack of understanding could be excused. He was neither aaneachan or Cthaian. He was neither crew nor kin. She would almost wager he had never sailed the seas let alone the stars. And, to look at his hands — they had known labor, yes, but had they known creation? He had mended, but had he ever made? He would not understand the difference, she thought. To him, a ship is indeed a ship.

But, her crew should have understood. Each had been hand-picked. Each had ventured with her for as many years as there were waves on the sea. They had built and maintained and repaired that ship by their own blood and sweat. They had sacrificed as much to it as to any god. And yet, they had demanded she abandon it. And yet, they would abandon their quest for home. In that moment, she knew she would sooner destroy them — destroy anyone — than admit defeat.

And so she had.

Yes, Lawrence could be excused, but not by her.

Though half a foot shorter, she stood toe-to-toe with him, and her blood black eyes did not blink. ❝My ship is a ship no more than your god is a god. Odussomai and Ilmater: set the two side by side and I will see no difference. You would sooner forswear him than I would her, paladin.❞

[fortunefeather]

Parting is such sweet sorrow, @cordbound

Age never liked saying goodbye. He had met so many wonderful people in his long life, and he always dreaded the moment when they had to part ways. And Lawrence... something about him was special. Even in just their short walk together, the tiefling had felt it. A warmth...

But as the pair came to their crossroads, Age'ian prepared to steel himself and go their separate ways. Ships passing in the night. But then, the paladin leaned in and placed a kiss upon Age's stardusted cheek. The long pointed ears of the tiefling gave a soft flutter, his eyes widening as he felt his face get warm. Though a blush was hard to see on such dark skin. However, the tender moment was interrupted as a vision passed through Age'ian, causing him to teeter slightly.

A rocky path. A steep cliff side. Stones loose from rain. A misplaced step of a horse's hoof. And a great and terrible tumble.

"Wait--!" he says with a gasp, gripping Lawrence tightly, "Please wait..."

[stilettobitearch]

🥀 🎧+ 3 and 6! @cordbound 🎧

3. a song that represents my muse's darkest moment

blood - mcr there are a lot of moments in cece's life that can be categorised as her darkest moment, its actually a little bit of an issue, so i'm gonna go with "this period of time in her life", which here is fully the time she became the head of the temple of bhaal, up until daddy dearest required a blood price she refused to pay (her brother). 

6. a song that represents my muse's world view

two evils - bastille. the lyrics of this song have a few interpretations, but for this, we have to ride with the concept of the speaker contemplating two aspects of himself, which is the starting block for cece's external view of the world: it starts with her own self-doubt and self-worth, and how little she trusts herself. this then reflects onto the rest of the world: we're not so different you and i, bringing her back to both the distrust she has in herself seen in everything she sees, but similarly, the times she acknowledges who she ultimately chooses to be as much as she has been, she can see good in the world, too. 

[sporefound]

✿ !

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

i feel like there is sooooo much to play with here. i definitely think it would take amanita a hot Second to warm up to lawrence's approach to life. she would probably pick up on his sensitivity & then pick on him because of it. she was raised to target spot that shit & though she's long separated from that life, old habits die hard. this being said, i think his perseverance despite the pain of Feeling & Existence would wear away at her prickly first impression. i think she's definitely wary of holy people in any regard because of her past as former cleric, but i think lawrence's perspective would widen her view in a way she might not have otherwise considered. she soaks up new information like a sponge & lawrence has Much of it. so long story short: i think they could be friends, with time, but it might not be easy for amanita at first.

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

i think if they did develop a familial bond, it would come from nita growing & harboring respect for the relentlessness in which lawrence stands by his ideals. i think she might try to take him under her wing at first but realize that's not going to work & learn very slowly that is not how this is going to work. i think it would be closer to a found family sort of thing. i think there could definitely be something to play with in a parallel between nita's initial impression of lawrence & lawrence's father's impression of him. but instead of keeping on trying to tear him down, there could be like that respect of growth & fondness of person if that makes sense?? i guess it could be like the vibe of step-siblings that realize fighting isn't going to make their situation any better & slowly realizing they can work it out. if that makes sense?

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

so while there is a lot of room for a story of growth & shared understanding, there is also a lot of room for conflict. amanita & lawrence are opposites in a lot of ways & that could lead to some serious conflict. nita would constantly try to Justify the amount of compassion lawrence has for a world she see's as cruel / ask him to justify it & if she's not convinced she would be super petty about how wrong she thinks he is. i could see her pride bouncing off of his stubborness & it causing some problem. i also think his hero complex would be something nita picks at constantly. so while they could be friends, it would also be super easy to go in a less friendly route because of how drastically different they view the world & their places in it. nita see's the world as constantly ready to rot & lawrence seems to be someone who wants to keep that from happening.

[ceruleanscarred]

"Did this one happen in a battle, or is there a different story behind it?" { @cordbound }

{ Scar Survey Prompts: Always Accepting! }

She glances to the Y shaped scar on her right bicep, recalling with a smile the fight that caused it.

"This was from one of my more interesting fights. It was against one of the few types of Undead that can be found in my home. Their name in draconic translates to 'A Horse With No Name' and they prowl the dunes looking for lost travelers to drain the life from. I'd mistaken it's rider for someone in need of help, but when I approached, the rider had long become a husk. The horse can actually take control of their drained riders, and the scar is from a crossbow bolt that it fired at me before I managed to chase it off."

[maestrojax]

“You need to rest.”

My muse is sick, and won’t admit it. // @cordbound

The drow shook his head, the feather on his great hat moving with him. "I can't rest yet. I have to finish this." He was busy with some paperwork and really he would do anything to avoid resting. He didn't like the weakness that came with it all.

[f4rgd]

@cordbound : “ I’m sorry. I know it hurts. ”

Gods was he trying to keep a straight face, but somewhere in between gritted teeth and tightly shut eyes he'd given himself away and something between a hiss and a grunt had left him. He was tough, he'd dealt with many an injury - all too familiar with patching himself up over and over again, but the cut on his bicep was particularly deep and he was unable to bite his tongue.

" Only a little. " He looked to Lawrence and forced a smile. Perhaps more than a little but he wouldn't say it out loud. If not for using what was left of his own energy he would have healed himself and saved them both the effort. " It just.. stings is all. " Keeping his arm still he flexed his fingertips and relaxed back against the wall, body perched on the seat beside the others. " You did not need to patch me up, but I appreciate it. It is very kind, a kindness I am not used to admittedly. "

[odissean]

( the voyage home // accepting ) LAWRENCE [ @cordbound ] WROTE: ❝Where must you go?❞

FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, THE Cthaians have kept an oral tradition. They wove their histories into the sails on their masts, the ropes in their rigging, the mantles on their shoulders. They had sailed the tides of memory over every ocean on Aaneach, and then it feathered their wings as they flew toward the stars. Not a word of it had ever been written by Cthaian hand, though there had been efforts to record the voices of the great bards. Recordings Maedi had never heard.

Her father had been a traditionalist in this respect. Every night they were with him, she and her brother sat at the feet of those bards in their flesh and blood and listened. Neither were destined to be lorekeepers, but this knowledge was in the marrow of who they were, and Etesarl would not see them ignorant of it. Even now, Maedi could only bear to hear the words spoken by a living voice. When there were no bards by the fire, that voice was hers. She knew the power of a tale well told as well as she knew the power of her own hands.

If she told her own well enough, the currents would carry her home. This was her raft in the storm.

Her chin slipped slightly so that the light of the fire would catch on her ruddy black eyes. She held Lawrence in that regard, his own countenance glistening back at him from their center, just a moment too long for comfort. It was not an uninviting gaze but a promising one. The look of one born to stars he would never see, whose voice could tell tales he would never hear again. She'd found humans to be both frightened and compelled by what was unusual to them. The trick was to suspend them in that moment.

❝Up past your mountains and trees, over the currents of the Astral Sea.❞ She fanned her hand across the sky above them, and stars winked through the thin webbing between her fingers. ❝Though not marked on any chart, I'm pointed there by my heart.❞

❝I have been flung beyond the touch of time, to worlds no Aaneachan has seen in their wildest dreams. Alas that longing has proven a poor compass, nor does mediocre poetry make up the difference. I have been lost to my home and it to me. Still, that is where I must go.❞