#deathswcrn

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"All in the average contract, for a Witcher. New and interesting adventures always seem to pop up, destiny's hand, no doubt... but I am used to the things most never will be. Just the way the Path goes. Rather like you Skelligers sailing a sea and going raiding, I reckon. Never a dull moment. Appreciate the offer, but won't be necessary. Don't need as much sleep as you normal folk. Save your energy, in case your enemies decide to be stupid and attack us. Until then, sweet dreams."

Eskel's low, amused voice returned to the Skellige woman, marred features smirking faintly with a chuckle, shaking his head. Not long afterwards, their games concluded when exhaustion found her, and while he remained on watch peering out into the woods, she prepared herself and her bedroll and to drift off. In between work on his alchemy set, his potions and bombs, he took the time to sip from his mixed bottle of Mahakaman Spirit and White Gull, savoring the welcome burning sensation in his throat and chest, between mouthfuls of leftover Blue Mountain Stew and bread. Enhanced senses listening to the peaceful sounds of the falling rain, the distant ships in the harbor and at sea and the sounds of the animals of the forest. Regardless of the difficulties on the Path, it was always helpful to have simple tastes, ones far easier to maintain, and little in the way of expectations. To be contented easily. Soon after, Breina had drifted off altogether, leaving the Witcher there to complete his work, readying himself until morning. Rising now and again to patrol the area or gather more wood to keep the fire going. Fortunately, they either weren't found by her enemies or they proved smarter than not, none of his magical traps being set off by them, animals or monsters. When the sun began to rise hours later, it wasn't long before he sensed her wake again, and his viper gaze turned her way again from his spot by the fire. Deep, relaxed tone greeting her with a nod.

"Morning. Was just about to wake you, but didn't fancy a concealed blade or axe being swung my way. Seen how you islanders get when your beauty sleep is disturbed. Breakfast, or should we set out now?"

Eskel's mutilated visage smirked at Breina's suggestion they find out if he was a match for her in physical matters... he certainly wouldn't turn any of the offers down, if it came to it. Time would tell, when they reached the islands. In the meanwhile he focused on their Gwent games... she did well for her age, and the Skellige deck was not without its own advantages. Forced him to alter his usual strategies. He won more than not with his experience, but she got some good wins with her aggressive style. The key was luring aggressive players into traps, then hitting them with weather cards... but it wasn't always a guarantee. Before he knew it, a good deal of time had passed, and her yawns made it quite clear that exhaustion was finally catching up with her. Looking up from the cards her way, viper eyes studying the young woman, he nodded his agreement, glancing about the camp and woods as well for good measure. There was no sense putting his time standing watch to waste while she got some rest. With that thought in mind, his deep voice returned to her calmly.

"Don't worry about it. You have not undergone the Trials, don't possess my mutations. You require more sleep than a Witcher does. Not half bad at this game, at least, we'll play again on the ship. Dice as well. Get some shut eye... I'll wake you in the morning. Have some potions and blade oils to brew and bombs to craft in the meantime anyways, for the voyage ahead. Monsters liable to attack the ship. I'll keep an eye out for those friends of yours too. You'll know if they're foolish enough to stumble into this camp."

The Witcher smiled at her, then gathered up all his cards again on that note, tucking them away into the pouch he kept them in, before at last rising from the fire and making his way towards his saddlebags laying nearby. Kneeling, he retrieved his alchemy set, the appropriate ingredients for his potions and oils, spare vials as well as empty bomb shells and fuses, the components they would need. When he had everything he would require, he returned to the fire, sitting down near it and setting up his alchemy set and tools. Getting to work. While not his favorite part of the profession, he kept his skills honed every bit as much as his fighting skills where alchemy was concerned... and given the monsters out on Skellige and in the sea approaching it, he wasn't about to be caught unprepared. He hadn't lasted this long on the Path not having backup options for the many dangers he had to deal with on his own. Even so, he welcomed the rare company she would be, her own knowledge in her homeland and when they were on the sea. Something told him despite all his knowledge he had more left to learn of the Skellige Islands and her folk's ways.

@deathswcrn

[apalestar]

@deathswcrn moving us to act II shenanigans. Plotted starter.

They had barely been here a fortnight or two and Astarion already despised it. He couldn't sink his teeth into the harpers without risking his own neck. The two cows were too suspicious and closely guarded. Beyond the sanctuary of the cleric's blessing, not a damned thing drew breathe. He'd be so lucky if a band of cultists decided to attack. At least then he would be fed.

He was just desperate enough to seek out a rat. Fighting. Moving around as he did took it's toll in a way prowling the streets for Cazador's meals never did. The hunger gnawed in his gut. The gaping maw demanded more and more. He felt sluggish. Weak. Even if his performance hadn't degraded, Astarion felt that he had. Worse he caught himself on several occasions eyeing his companion's neck a little too closely.

That desperation had him discovering the most gracious of finds: the stash of alcohol beneath the inn. Sure the bottles were dusty, but they were sealed properly. Oh he could use this.

He wandered off in search of their erstwhile wrangler of adventurers. Where had Breina nestled herself? The smile brimming with his charm presented itself on his face when he finally found her. "There you are. You look as dreadfully tired of this place as I am, but I just found something both of us can enjoy. That is if you agree to my arrangement."

A cheshire cat gleam in his eyes. The vampire had something devious in mind, but it was certain to be fun!

[f4rgd]

@deathswcrn : “It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling.” (it's time for them to talk about their feelings)

He's dropped hints, hells, if packing his bag and following her when he was supposed to stay in the city and work to pay the devil wasn't enough of a hint then he was at a loss. But Aksel hadn't done it intentionally, he'd acted on instinct and every fibre of his being had told him to follow her that day. He'd been right to, the situation they were in now was dire, but he'd been right to follow. If he'd stayed back in the city and she hadn't returned...

He played with the stew in his bowl, scooping it up and pouring it back in and hesitated to speak. There had been no confession, yet, but try as he might the smith knew he couldn't ignore his own heart - nor could his body, it was both that had forced him to follow and end up here with a tadpole in his head. Even that little detail didn't seem to matter much knowing he was with Breina and no matter how tough she was and more capable, probably, he could protect her if need be.

" - and what is the feeling? " His brow raised as he looked over to her, finally finding her words - a love confession out of nowhere would be humiliating, he didn't want to embarrass himself. But he knows, at least he thinks he does. It's still hard to figure out how to say it, how to ease into it when he's spent so many years alone. " I, uh - " shit. " I think it is obvious but I care about you a lot. I followed you because I did not want to lose you. So if that's... " similar? or something close to similar because he hadn't want to lose that feeling either. He doesn't finish his sentence, instead he shrugs and finally takes a mouthful of his food.

[crosaidi]

sanctus! @deathswcrn / requiem asks ( headcanons )

sanctus - when they wake up screaming from a nightmare, who is it that your muse calls for?

no particular person, because he has two ways he wakes up from these: either dead still, dead quiet, without moving or blinking or feeling anything aside from the horrors in his head, waiting until the darkness clears from his vision enough to silently get up and move, or ——

or fighting , fighting, fighting. like the dragon's maw is closing, like he's losing everyone, like he's failed, failed, failed. this is rare. but he comes up swinging, roaring, fighting, because he's been fighting for so many years and that's all he knows —— and then strength sags out of him utterly, completely.

but to a particular person? no. at least not consistently — maybe a name slips through in the people he's lost.

[swashbucklcr]

@deathswcrn | starter call

Finn grumbled as he joined Breina's side by the campfire, glancing at the bottle in her hand and then back to the crackling flames. There were still a few customs of being entirely land-based that he was adjusting to, but a roaring fire to sit beside every evening was one he had grown fond of rather quickly.

"You know," he said, his tone half-joking, half-serious, "on the Dúncannon, me ship, it was considered a shit move to hog a bottle all to yerself. Especially since I was the one who raided the druid's supply for it."

[va1keus]

@deathswcrn continued.

He was smart when it came to art and having an ability to make the best out of a bad situation, but as far as fighting and handling a sword went... he lacked severely in that. Nobody had ever taught him nor given him the chance, there had been no need with guards in every corner of their home protecting them. No, he'd grown up well protected with absolutely no need until he'd decided to leave. Admittedly he hadn't thought it through all that well, but he had brought a sword which he could just about swing in the right direction - he'd just been lucky enough to not have to use it. At least up until he had and Breina had been the one to step in and save his life. Tending to her wounds was the least he could do.

He concentrates on patting the wound down with the alcohol to clean it and then he's pulling apart an old shirt to use as a bandage to wrap it around her arm securely. He's tying it slowly up until she says that and catches him by surprise, as a result he tugs a little too tight around her arm. " Shit, sorry! " He's not innocent by any means, far from it, especially not since he left home but he'd never expected that to come out of his mouth.

" You lost me at c - things being ripped. " His brow raised and he loosened the bandage, retying it just a little looser this time. " I would have more luck using a paint brush as a sword, only it just might... tickle. " He shrugged. Ben knew he needed to learn to fight, he couldn't expect them to protect him forever. " I would appreciate it if you have the time, you may need plenty. "

[evergloaming]

for @deathswcrn ( tore )

They'd been picking their way through the ruins of Boston and its outskirts for two days, going slow, avoiding raiders and feral ghouls as best they could - which, when you were careful and used the old highways strategically, was quite well indeed. The only recurring problem was the Gunners; Sigrid was inclined to give them a wide berth, which did nothing to cut down their time picking through the urban wasteland, but did a considerable amount towards keeping them both sufficiently un-bullet-ridden. A couple of nights spent after breaking into the crumbling buildings - one even saw them with a real bed, despite the state it was in - and they were within spitting distance of her old neighbourhood. The first home she'd known after the Institute. Where it all started, or at least as close as she could get.

She glanced back at Tore and tried to see him as her old neighbours might. His hair and beard had grown out in the last few months; he looked older, more experienced, less naive, but she had a feeling his eyes were going to bug out of his skull the moment they stepped within Goodneighbor's perimeter and not go back until they left.

"Stop looking around like you think the buildings are going to pick your pocket," she muttered. "Those people are gonna eat you alive if they think they can get away with it, and if you look around you like that in Goodneighbor, they absolutely will think they can get away with it."

[benmzed]

" i'm not going to hurt you. how close do i have to get without splitting you open to make you believe that? " @deathswcrn / the serpent & the wing of night

Keep  your  head  down.  That’s  been  what  he’s  told  himself  again  and  again  since  he  was  shackled,  collared,  shoved  into  these  stinking  quarters.  He’s  lost  track  of  how  long  precisely  they’ve  even  been  aboard  the  ship  — he  was  tracking  it  with  marks  scratched  with  a  nail  into  the  floor  under  his  bedroll,  but  then  it  became  increasingly  pointless.  Keep  your  head  down,  don’t  get  involved.  

Keep  an  eye  forward.  Survive.  Survive  until  Fort  Joy,  and  then  he  can  get  things  set  into  motion.  

Even  in  these  rags,  he  still  manages  to  exude  contained,  animalistic  energy,  tireless  and  prowling  — even  when  he’s  just  lounged  against  the  wall,  casual  as  one  pleases,  avoiding  every  scrap  of  conflict  even  when  he  plainly  looks  like  he’s  dangerous  in  a  scrap.  Most  have  given  up  trying  to  pry  into  him,  which  suits  him  fine.  Most,  that  is,  except  ——

Green  eyes  slip  over,  and  there’s  the  scarcest  flash  of  a  little  smile.  "  Ah,  but  for  all  I  know,  you’re  planning  on  getting  close  just  to  split  me  open.  "  By  the  way  his  eyes  dance,  just  a  little  — an  immutable  spark  that  even  these  damnable  collars  can’t  stifle  — it’s  not  an  actual  concern.  "  So  if  not  that,  then  what  is  it?  "  

[tarathemagnificent]

"Tara, I'm tryin' to get a gift for Gale to cheer him up. I know he likes magic, an' cookin', an' poetry, but those happen to be three areas I know next to nothin' about. I'll trade you whatever meat or fish you'd like that I can get from Baldur's Gate markets for your input."

@deathswcrn

Tara thinks on it. She decides she is more excited for Gale than not that Breina is trying to court her pet. Properly court him! She trills in her excitement. It is everything Mr. Dekarios deserves. "I can't have Mr. Dekarios living with just me forever. He needs a good relationship. A basket of fish and cornish hens, and I'll show you things he would enjoy." She pondered. "A razor too for that thing on his face."

[daughterofhighever-blog]

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this!”

"How much stronger do you expect yourself to be? I have known hardened warriors twice your size and thrice your age crumble under half the weight you've been forced to shoulder. Give yourself a little grace, Breina."

[spiderwarden]

"MINTHARA. Will you settle an argument? I should get revenge for my exile from Cormyr, right? You support my right to violence, don't you?"

"Yes of course, this is not even worth the inquiry. Contrary to what other more ...self righteous company may suggest, solutions do not always arrive in the form of justice." Then she lifts her fist and closes it promptly, "It must be taken and claimed thoroughly. Cleanse thy enemy of house and home and all that reside within, and stain their blood upon your flesh so all may know not to ." Then she relaxes with the straighten of her shoulders, "That is all."

@deathswcrn

[apalestar]

@deathswcrn

Corporate would like you to tell the difference between these two images. Breina: There is no difference.

[f4rgd]

@deathswcrn : “   i’m  so ,   so  sorry .   you  didn’t  deserve  that .   ”

He wants to laugh, he wants to hysterically laugh and it's a miracle this place hasn't turned him mad yet but the words that come from her feel empty, even if that's not her intent. He's not certain, he never can be out here. Every day is a fight to survive and it's harder now he's left with just one good hand, the other a machine, robotic and useful enough to help him do his job but it doesn't compare to the one he'd lost. He'd been lucky it hadn't been his right, that's what they'd said - without it he would have been useless. But it didn't matter what he deserved, not out here, it hadn't since it had all begun.

" No? " His lips turn up, smirk a little, it twists because what does it matter. " It does not matter, I should consider myself lucky - they could have taken them both. " He can still trade, still work, still gather caps to keep himself alive in some sense. " In this world that is considered merciful, no? "

[crosaidi]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. it's time to spread positivity!

no you 🥰

[never-surrender]

"Wait, wait. Tell me more about the not-broom riding," says Bree with no sense of decorum. Because she doesn't have any.

Aurelia blushes deeply enough its quite visible on her dark red skin, lips pressing together as she shakes her head. "I dunno what you're talking about.." she manages, reaching up to itch at the side of her nose awkwardly. It'll take more than that to get any information out of her.

[aroughtempest]

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜ (ehehehe)

@deathswcrn ¦ rivals (to lovers?) prompts [accepting]

The glance Gale threw over to Breina was nothing short of scalding before he replied dryly, "There is also a tadpole in my mind; I don't believe I hold much love for the parasite either." As if tired of her visage, he turned his gaze away again.

Of course, he thought about her constantly. She was the cause of his affliction, his pain, his downfall. He had been a fool to fall for her manipulation the first time; he was not willing to make the same error twice. So, yes, Breina preoccupied his mind often when in view, and not all thoughts would gain the wizard much approval from his campmates.

In fact, it irritated him to no end that overall, Breina was well-liked. Her 'act' of playing the charismatic, empathetic, wise leader won over many of the group. Gale hadn't budged on his perception, however, even if she claimed to have lost her memory.

His only wonder at the moment was why keep this charade up for so long. It was only him that was affected by her betrayal.