#i love it when there’s just a really bloodthirsty bastion and it’s like i can just orb him - orb enemies - point them out

[gazpacho-deluxe]

i love playing zen sm. like i literally can just orchestrate 1v1s to win fights by orbing whoever’s doing shit and discording their opponent and it’s sick and awesome it feels so fun to play

[cactuupng]

I hope it's still okay to talk about traffic!Mumbo

A lot of the times,it's either Grian or Scar or Martyn that's popular within the life series fandom,but Mumbo's my favourite character so I'm glad that you like him a lot as well!

I just love that Last Life kind of started so good for him,with the Southlands,the aha jokes,the base and farms,but then he and Grian had that moment on the bridge and would only be red with Grian,who wanted him to join him SO BADLY,if he killed Mumbo fair and square.

Then Mumbo turned red and went INSANE with the end crystals.He was forced out of the Southlands (I think),he was trying to attack so many people,and didn't hesitate to push Impulse off of the SAME bridge that Grian tried to kill him on.He still joined up with fellow reds but he kept moving through different people,until he met up with Jimmy,a fellow Southlander,and died in his home,by the hands of one of his closest allies.

He's just kind of a tragic character that's different to the usual angst of the life series,somebody who wanted friends but lost them all and went insane and bloodthirsty because of it.

This might not make sense,or just feel like a basic explanation of Mumbo's Last life journey,but still,it was nice to talk about him and I love your art of Mumbo!

Yes yes yes YES!

I absolutely love traffic!Mumbo because the more you rewatch his povs, the more tragic he seems to become.

Like you said, it started out great! He got a group of friends, he got 4 lives, jokes - everything was perfect! But then the Bastion happened, and he lost his first life. Okay, that's scary! He hadn't died on hardcore before, so it's weird and was definitely a lot more terrifying than if he died on Hermitcraft.

He calls for help in chat, asking if someone, anyone, can come help him get home and protect him. He buries himself underground, waiting for Martyn and Jimmy to come back for him. No one comes, though, leaving him to wait. He's completely alone for the night, terrified to go out in case a mob hurts him and kills him again.

Mumbo's rightfully upset at them, commenting how the "aha" is traumatic to him now and how he can't do it due to not having a spyglass anymore. Meeting up with Grian, Mumbo makes a jab at himself about burning and dying, clearly still upset.

Then he dies again at the hands of, again, lava, but this time it was because Scar poured it on him. His friend from another world, killing him just like that, not really caring. He respawns, but he stays burning. Mumbo tries to jump into the water, trying to distinguish the weirdly non damage taking flames, but they don't disappear no matter what he does. The others don't comment on it, as if they can't see it. He's still burning. It's still warm.

and THEN THE GHAST BRIDGE?? INCIDENT HAPPENS??? Mumbo only heard talks about red names and how they can't team with non reds, only seeing Joel act that way. He's never experienced this. So it's incredibly distressing when he watches his best friend die in front of him, going down to red. He leaves a sign at the bottom, saving Grian's stuff and pleading for him not to hurt him, because hey! I saved your stuff! I'm your pal!

The whole conversation makes me sick, because Grian clearly isn't fully trying to kill Mumbo off. He wants to be friends with him, of course, but he can't kill him. Grian resorts to making pathetic attempts to drop him, but of course it doesn't work. He backs off the moment Mumbo tells him that he will join him if he kills him fair and square. Mumbo wants to join him, he wants to stay friends, but only if Grian does it fairly. Grian doesn't. He can't.

I'm skipping through everything to when Mumbo turns red because MUMBO ON HIS RED LIFE IS CONSTANTLY ON MY MIND BECAUSE OH MY GOD. This man is not used to this amount of bloodthirst. He's a killer, of course he is. His middle name is Killsalot god damn it! But he's not used to it being this much. He immediately goes insane, not hesitating to hurt, to explode, to push the limits. Seeing how Ren and BigB were scared of him if he even went NEAR them with something explosive, it filled him with power. "I like having this power!" he says, absolutely ecstatic of how he can do what he wants.

All this power comes with a cost, of course. Mumbo coming back to the place he called home, meeting face to face with Grian and Impulse. He shouldn't be here. They tell him that in the face. Mumbo tries to protest, to talk about about how he somewhat already was exiled already, but his voice gets quiet as the realisations hit him. He cant come home. Grian exiles him right in front of him, telling him that he should leave. He does, but not without doing what red names were meant to do. Destroy. Scare.

Back on the ghast bridge, Impulse and Grian are there. Mumbo doesn't hesitate to push Impulse off, laughing. Grian's upset, yelling at him while Mumbk tries to explain himself. Mumbk tries to do Grian's old tricks of breaking the floor beneath him, but he can't. Grian can now, though, not afraid to protect himself as he starts scaring Mumbo. All Mumbo fan do in turn is to apologise repeatedly, saying "sorry" over and over as if he didn't mean to do ehat he did, running away.

He keeps burning the flame. He keeps making the flame larger and larger and larger until its too much, until he burns himself down to ashes. He flies too close to the sun as he watches Jimmy die in front of him, realisations crashing over him after hitting his best friend of what he's done now, running away before turning back, hoping that he didn't follow. Grian did, though. He always does.

It ends with Mumbo getting stabbed in the chest as he feels himself dying. Not dying in the way that is on Hermitcraft, the way that it is back home. No. He's dying.

Mumbo has a constant theme with burning in LastLife. His first deaths relating to burning in lava, coming back permanently burning due to a glitch after his second one, his third happening right after exploding an end crystal right in front of him, his love for end crystals in the first place...

I like to associate him with a burning candle flame that just got too big, slowly burning himself down until nothing but a puddle of what once was remained.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 15--Child

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo's pregnancy progresses.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Six months later

“Behind you,” Demyx spat. Ienzo ducked, just barely feeling the droplets of Demyx’s spell against the Heartless.

“Thanks.” Ienzo gathered more magic under his hands. It was easier--more volatile--than ever. “A few more, baby.”

“Are you enjoying this?”

“...I have to cope somehow.” He slashed through the remaining ones in the clearing and brushed the dust off of his hands. “That’s the last of them.” Ienzo’s heart was still racing. He placed a hand on his belly. “What can I say? She’s bloodthirsty.”

Demyx laughed a little. His hand joined Ienzo’s. “She’s really pummeling you.”

“I think it’s the adrenaline. Must feel good.” He gave him a kiss. “Come on. We have to go get ready. You’re going to be late.”

Demyx’s smile faltered. “Does it matter?”

“It’s your college graduation. Of course it matters. I’m so proud of you. Summa cum laude, Demyx, it’s a big deal.”

“...That’s only ‘cause you helped me.”

“Adding a few commas and semicolons into your papers isn’t much.” He took both his hands. “Come on.”

It wasn’t a long walk home from the woods. It had rained earlier that morning, a spring rain that made everything fresh… and muddy. They’d both need a shower before they headed over to the university.

The last few months had made things both more complicated and simpler. It was easier to be pregnant than Ienzo thought, especially once the morning sickness subsided. He had more energy and, yes, more power . He was still able to go to class, simply covering his belly with an illusion; as long as nobody got too close, they wouldn’t be able to know.

While being more powerful attracted more Heartless, it also made his work with Cid easier. They were cracking small parts of Xehanort’s OS, which had allowed them to fell tiny pockets of his in the country, taking back a few small bastions. At least it was progress, and after so much stalemate, it was welcome.

His contact with Ansem, limited as it was, tapered off entirely. Ienzo did not even know if his father knew of his pregnancy, what had happened. All he knew was that one meeting everyone was frantically asking one another where he’d gone. They all had their theories; that he’d been killed, kidnapped, that he was running his own reconnaissance missions. But why would he leave? Why now? It was a question that kept Ienzo up at night.

Ienzo actually had to move his bedroom into the basement, an extra layer of defense against his magic. On top of that… while Demyx still received mail at his old apartment, he stayed over so frequently that he did essentially live there. Once his lease was up in June, it would be permanent. Even just grit his teeth and bore it; it wasn’t as though Ienzo could get doubly pregnant.

It was still odd, to see himself in mirrors, to see his belly and to feel the baby move. He swore he felt  her aura growing. Thinking about her… gave him hope.

Though with the hope was anxiety.

While they seemed to be gaining a little ground against Xehanort, it didn’t seem to be happening quickly enough to offset the harm. On top of this was the stress of oncoming parenthood; he was only barely an adult himself. They didn’t have the things she’d need , and there was only about two more months before she would be born--

Ienzo showered quickly, pulled on a sweater. Demyx was putting on a tie, smoothing the strands of hair out of his face. “You clean up nicely,” he said.

Demyx exhaled. “Not that anyone’s going to see it under that thing.” He gestured to the black robe.

Ienzo touched his arm. “Hey,” he said. “Relax, will you?”

“There are just going to be a lot of people around you.”

“We’ll manage,” he said. “Now get dressed. Come on.”

Ienzo felt as though he were standing in two lives. Aeleus so indulgently let them take a photo or two at Ienzo’s insistence; Demyx’s shock at this (Ienzo hated being in photos, especially pregnant) distracted him enough to comply.

One life was watching his soulmate cross the stage to earn his degree while their child moved gently inside of him.

The other was the fact that he was an extraordinarily powerful prince pregnant with an even more powerful heir, and there were potentially eyes everywhere.

The ceremony ended. The university was offering a lunch for the graduates and their guests, and Ienzo was going to be sure Demyx went and enjoyed every bit of it, especially with his friends. Lea, Riku, and Yuffie had graduated as well in their various fields. And then he was going to make Demyx go to a graduation party, even if it exhausted him, even if he could only drink soda. He deserved at least a little more fun. Finally, Ienzo saw him relax a little, taking selfies and chatting happily with friends.

“How are you feeling?” Kairi asked him, whisper close. Ienzo didn’t look pregnant at this moment in time, but all their friends knew.

“Good. We ran into some Heartless this morning on our walk. She loved every minute of that fight.” He sighed. “Good for her. I have a feeling there will be a whole lot more fighting.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad to see you, though.”

“I wasn’t going to miss this. He deserves it.”

“Yeah. He does.” She hummed happily and led him back over to the table. “So I’ve been working with Aqua, and we’re wondering if there might be a way to help restore Heartless to their previous selves with my power.”

His eyebrows shot up. “That’s--”

“I know. Could be a game changer. We just… gotta find a safe place to capture some, that’s all.”

“Tell me what I can do to help.”

“I will--if anything happens.”

The day eddied on happily, uneventfully. Quietly. For this, Ienzo was glad. Demyx finally seemed to be feeling some of the pride and excitement he should’ve had all day. Dinner nearly over, Ienzo had to excuse himself to find a restroom. The corridor was markedly silent when he left, almost uncomfortably so; he tensed. He almost thought he saw something moving, but nothing came of it; swallowing this fear, he returned to the table and his friends.

---

Demyx started looking for work in earnest. He’d had to take a test to be a fully certified teacher; Ienzo had helped him study, getting… creative, with the rewards. (He was infinitely glad Demyx was not uncomfortable having sex with him while he was pregnant.) He was able to tutor some students in their homes. It felt almost like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop, even as they bought some things for their baby.

As much as Cid would let him, Ienzo worked with Tron. The work was not physically draining, but still the man was worried about him being unconscious so long with the baby. It felt as though they were making more small gains. Cid unencrypted whatever they were able to pull and passed it to Even, who studied voraciously.

More time passed… Ienzo felt himself getting heavier and heavier, his power more unstable. Once he was doing dishes, and the baby kicked him, and everything breakable in the sink shattered. Aeleus just rested a gentle hand on his back and began to pick the broken bits out of the sink.

Heartless hunted him more mercilessly now, even with Demyx around. Aerith and Aqua reinforced the wards on the townhouse. It only helped so much. The baby was growing only stronger as the pregnancy progressed.

Ienzo knew he would not be giving birth in a hospital. It was simply too much risk.

“Shouldn’t we get me out of the city entirely?” Ienzo asked. “Away from… people?”

Even nodded. “Quite. Aerith was kind enough to lend us her cottage again. She’s also a skilled healer, so you’ll be in good hands. I know your work with Cid is important… but as soon as is safe to do so, we should leave.”

Demyx squeezed Ienzo’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

One of these days in early summer, Even took him aside. “Have you… done any reading, into what the birth will be like?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know how children are born, Even.” Ienzo sighed; he was feeling breathless, the baby pressing against his lungs. “I… I’m afraid I haven’t had much time, between my work, and the Heartless.”

He shook his head. “It’ll be different for you,” he said. “Not just the… intense release of magic when she’s born, but the labor will be…” He thought a moment. “Historically, very short.”

“Isn’t that good?” He’d tried not to think about the actual process too much, but it was getting to be time.

“Very brief, but… incredibly painful.”

He scoffed. “Of course.”

“Moreso than for most humans. Her aura has to separate from yours.”

“Would anesthetics help?”

“I’ve been looking into it. I’m hoping that I can make something which will make it easier for you.”

“...Yet, not an answer to my question.”

Even scowled. “I can ease physical pain. I’m not sure what can be done about the magical pain.” A sigh, then his expression grew wistful. “In another world this would be a time of joy, of celebration, of ritual. Your mother would be by your side… or your father. You’d labor in a warm bath with flowers and herbs… and not have to worry about monsters striking you at your most vulnerable.”

“...And I would be ten or fifteen years older, and ready for such a thing.” Ienzo rested his hand on his belly. “Part of me wonders… if he found out, and then… fled. I know this is merely… my hormonal brain, doing the talking. But…”

“You have doubts. He hasn’t been part of your life in a while. That’s natural.” He offered a small smile. “It will be difficult, I won’t lie. But we’ll help you.” Ienzo ran his fingers along the bump, feeling the baby press against it. “Well. Too late to back out now.”

“...Quite.”

---

But nothing went as expected.

He was thirty-eight weeks into this pregnancy now, the magic so volatile he can barely do anything without unanticipated consequences. They were gathering their things to leave for the seaside and had just sat for a late lunch. Ienzo had been unusually hungry all day; he’d eaten two grilled cheese sandwiches and was considering asking for a third.

“I’ll be glad, to get away,” he murmured, tracing his finger through the crumbs. The baby kicked him restlessly, and he stroked her.

“I’m excited to meet her,” Demyx said, taking his hand. “Though I already know what she looks like.”

“Yes… unfortunately, she was always predetermined to look more like me. You’d have better luck with the second one.”

He snorted. “Second one? We have to survive this one first.”

Ienzo smiled. “Well. If the Forecast is true… then there will be time for that in the future.”

Demyx kissed his palm. “More? You demolished that last one.”

He exhaled. “Yes. Thank you.”

Demyx took his plate back over to the counter, pulled out the bread and cheese.

And Ienzo felt a cramp.

It wasn’t intense, insofar as these things go, but it was most definitely not one of the practice cramps he’d had. A cramp, and then a warm trickling between his legs, pattering softly on the floor.

Demyx’s eyes were wide, terrified, his skin pale. “ Please tell me that’s pee.”

Panic made it hard to breathe. “I wish it were.”

Demyx grabbed the roll of paper towels and began wiping it up. Ienzo could hear him breathing heavily. “Don’t move,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll get Even.”

The accused breezed into the kitchen. “What do you need me for?” He saw their terrified expressions, Ienzo’s wet clothing. Then he, too, went pale for a moment. “Oh. Oh, child.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t suppose… we can get there in time.”

Even just shook his head. “Not unless you want to give birth in the backseat of the car.”

“What do we do?” Demyx asked.

He thought a moment. “We get Ienzo clean and comfortable. We call however many magic users are willing to come. And then we… manage. I’m a doctor; I’ve delivered babies. I think I can handle delivering yours.”

Another cramp, more painful than the last, had him gasping. Ienzo could feel her shifting inside of him, down. “We’re not ready ,” he hissed through his teeth. “We don’t have any… any diapers, or bottles, or… storybooks.”

Demyx knelt next to him and took his hand, not so much as flinching when Ienzo squeezed it hard. “We’ll be okay.” He helped him gently to his feet. The two of them brought him downstairs into the basement. Shakily, Ienzo took off his wet clothing, slid on his thin white cotton robe. A third contraction had him gasping and clinging to Demyx.

“I knew it would be fast,” he gasped. “But that couldn’t have been more than… five minutes…”

Even came up and down the stairs with pillows, towels, plastic sheeting to protect the mattress. Medical supplies. The things they’d intended to take to the cottage. Demyx lit a few candles, sang softly to him. This seemed to be the only thing that eased the pain at all.

“She must like that,” Ienzo said dazedly. Time was moving weirdly; all of a sudden there was a basin of water on his dresser, and Demyx was dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth. He was vaguely aware of people poking their heads in, Aeleus saying that so-and-so had arrived and was reinforcing the wards at the property line. The rest of him was focused on the gristle knot of pain that threatened to tear him in two.

“Can’t we give him something?” Demyx asked.

“I don’t have anything body safe that will help.”

He was eased back gently onto the pillows. “How long has it been?” He barely sounded like himself.

“A little under four hours,” Even said.

“Really? Already?” And yet it felt like an eternity. “I’m so… thirsty.”

“You can have some ice.”

Demyx handed him a cup of ice chips one of them must have made. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this much pain. “She’s coming,” Ienzo said.

“I know.”

“I’m having our baby.”

“I know. And you’re handling it like a champ.” Then, in a lower voice, “is he supposed to be this out of it?”

“Considering he’s currently in more pain than a person can physically perceive? He’s much more lucid than his mother was.”

The next cramp was so intense he nearly screamed. Demyx rubbed his shoulders, brushed the sweaty hair out of his face. “Where am I?” Ienzo asked.

“In your bedroom.”

“No, I mean…” He grit his teeth, choking on another contraction. “The dilation, where is it?”

Even checked. “Nine centimeters. Nearly time to push.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, love. But we’ve got you. Demyx, help me turn him onto his side.”

“His… side?”

Even made an exasperated noise. “Poor thing’s in enough pain without forcing him to give birth on his back. Goes completely against the shape of the birth canal.”

Ienzo could barely move on his own. He felt so dreadfully exposed.

“Can you support his left leg?”

Feeling the calluses of Demyx’s hands on his skin was a cold comfort. The cramping, if anything, grew more violent; he felt his mouth open in a small O of pain. He heard the snap of gloves as Even put on a clean pair, and then more intense than the pain was the pressure , moving downwards. “I feel--”

“Do you want to push, Ienzo?”

The soft candlelight made everything hazy. “I… I think so…”

“Go ahead. Go on, love.”

Ienzo looked at Demyx, and for just a moment everything was perfectly clear. Demyx touched his sweaty face. “You can do this.”

“I can do this. Right.” He took a deep breath. When the next pain seized him, the next wave of pressure, instead of being pummeled by it, he tried to ride it, what it was telling him. He could feel more acutely the magical fracturing, his daughter’s energy beginning to rip from his, to tear.

“Good, Ienzo. Keep going.”

It was exhausting, the agony threatening to reach a fever pitch; he thought he might faint--

“Remember to breathe.”

He realized he hadn’t been, and the blackness retreated--

“It’s okay, Ienzo. Again. It’ll be over soon.”

The rest of his body felt limp, strange. The pain gutted him, rose and burrowed and rose--

“She’s crowning, Ienzo, she’s almost here--”

“Whoa, I can see her head.”

The agony swallowed him whole, pulling against his whole being , his magic shredding--

No, wait, don’t go--

And he felt her pull free.

The pain eased so suddenly he wasn’t sure if it had ever been there, replaced by a strange… almost pleasure , a warmth soothing his stomach, his vagina. He flopped onto his back and sagged weakly against Demyx, breathing hard. The magic was loud, was everywhere--

“She’s here, Ienzo. She’s here.” He thought he saw Even smiling.

His daughter was placed against his chest and he grasped at her, cradling her bloody head. Demyx kissed his cheek, her head. She gasped and cried-- “Oh, god. Oh, my god. Hi. Hello.”

A snip of scissors against the umbilical cord. The snip brought him fully back to his senses, to the baby in his arms. “Welcome back,” Even said softly.

“The magic--” It was all around them, making things almost purplish, faint flickers of light popping around the room.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re not quite done here. Demyx, take the baby, please.”

Demyx wrapped her gently in a towel and took her into his own arms. Ienzo saw his eyes and knew he had fallen in love.

Compared to the rest of it, delivering the placenta was easy; almost, in fact, pleasant, though Ienzo had heard stories that this was the most painful part. Even disposed of it quickly. “You’re already healing,” he said softly. “You’ll be alright in a few days, I’m sure of it.”

He let his legs ease down and lay back more fully against the pillows. Demyx was cradling her, singing softly in a language Ienzo did not recognize.

“Let me tell the others the good news,” Even said. He took off his gloves. Ienzo could see the pride in his eyes. He kissed Ienzo’s sweaty forehead. “You rest a moment. I’ll get you some water.”

Demyx perched next to him on the bed. He’d wiped the fluids off her. Sure enough, Ienzo could see the soft tuft of violet-silver hair. “You did awesome ,” he said.

“It seems my body has some kind of natural… painkiller. It no longer hurts at all.” In fact, even the sweat-soaked sheets felt good against his skin. “Could I--” Demyx eased her gently into his arms. Ienzo kissed her. He felt tears rush to his eyes, hot. “Oh,” he said softly.

Demyx took one of her tiny fists into his hand. “I know. I… can’t believe it. We made this. You made this.”

“I hope we made the right decision.”

“...I think we did.”

[asharinhun]

5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do? (For any of your OCs, or all of them!)

// Doing this to all my current Warcraft oCs xD

- Asharinhun Feralclaw

“I never believed in love at first sight… yet it happened to me, which was something I didn’t expect, especially not that I’d actually proposed to her.”

- Kielastrasza/Kiela Feralclaw

“Honestly? I often thought of finding and finishing off our mother’s killer, but didn’t truly believe we had the strength for it. Yet we did it.”

- Elyenastrasza/Elyena Feralclaw

“Yelling at people.” She nods sagely. “I’m usually the nervous, timid one, but upon seeing the mistakes those unqualified healers did, something snapped and the next moment I was in charge.” 

- Ash'Arina Feralclaw

“Marrying a woman. Don’t get me wrong, she’s the love of my life. I just didn’t expect it to turn out like this, as I was always fawning over the guys as a teen.”

- Eoloran Soursea

“To actually reunite with my sister. To find out she was alive and relatively well in Suramar for all these years… Even we old ones can get surprised.”

- Sharyssa Dustshade

“Finding relatives after the barrier of Suramar went down. Mom always said noone could have survived outside of our family. I’m truly happy she was wrong.”

- Serena Brightspring

“It was already a wonder that I could love a kaldorei, let arone he feeling the same. And here we are, husband and wife, and he loves me all the same despite me becoming a cripple.”

- Brigitte Fársaw

“Befriending a mainlander. Ok, ok, he is a druid of sorts too, that helped, but I don’t trust them in general. I wonder why, but I do trust him.”- Vaela Moonbreeze

“Succeeding in becoming a demon hunter. It was my goal after I got blinded, but somewhere deep inside I was sure I would fail, especially with weapon training. Yet here I am, one of the Slayers.”

- Leanna Crowshade

“I actually admitted to someone else she’s more beautiful than me. That confession still hurts… my beauty was my life… but I will make every remaining free demon pay, espcially the imps.”

- Arlyn Zien

“Brawling was not new to me before, the number of times I did it as a kid, but it always felt a necessity.” She paused, grabbing the cold drink and gently held it against her swollen shut eye while glancing up to the questioner with her working one. “But, now I friggin’ love brawling. Especially as all patrons know to keep my smile intact. Nothing better than a good brawl, bruises or not, so long I can still sing the next day on the stage.”

- Lynesera

“I fell in love with a mortal. Me, a green dragon. Do you know how ridiculous and impossible does that sound? Yet it happened, and it seems I wasn’t even the only one.”

- Legana Al'Vera

“Attacking my eldest sister with the intent to kill. It’s her fault. First letting my twin die, then putting all the blame on me and forcing me to run. So I found a way, gained power and returned for revenge. I attacked her all right, taking one of her eyes, she took one of mine as payback. next time we meet, only one will walk away alive.”

- Alanrya Al'Vera

“After I was raisedas an undead, I thought I won’t have feelings and regrets from when I was alive. I was wrong. Worse, I didn’t interrupt the fight between my sisters. I was there, hidden from sight… and did nothing but watch.”

- Nevana Al'Vera

“I let our family fall apart. I promised mother I will always support the twins, for I am the eldest, it is my responsibility. I failed utterly.”

- Lyala

“Winning a race on three legs. I broke one of my hindlegs during the most recent demonic invasion, and the healers didn’t have the capacity as it wasn’t that serious. Still, I joined in for a small race with my fellow dryads to cheer up our moods. I actually won!”

- Laz'jea

“Da incident during da coronation of Queen Talanji. I was -still am- only an apprentice, I did what I could to be of use despite being ordered to hide. At one point my weapon broke, and I thought I’d die for sure. Yet da next blow never came. My teacher, Wardruid Loti saved me.”

- Alarastrasza/Alara Feralclaw- deceased

She’s no longer alive, but she’d say meeting Asha and having 2 beautiful duaghters with him was out of her wildest imagination, but she was really happy it happened. Even if it meant she had to give up her life to save them, she died with no regrets.

- Gerrard ‘Bastion’

“Somewhat looked down on mercenaries. Was a minor noble in Gilneas before its fall, with enough gold so even the third son like me could be tutored. Guess life has a sense of humour, however twisted. Ended up becoming a merc, changed my opinion of the profession quickly.”

- Lola Hayles

“The number of times we restarted with Gerrard… it didn’t work for long when we were together, but it became just as bad and worse when we were separate. I had almsot given up o nthe whole thing, then got kidnapped. He actually managed to track us across half of Azeroth, to Pandaria, and when he thought I was dead, he was preparing for a ‘heroic’ last stand to take as many with him as possible.” She paused, turning her head towards the direction from where the question was asked. “He is a fool, but he is my precious fool.” A small golden band was visible on her finger.

- Korhien Sunpaw

“ ‘ve an adopted sister. She was better to me than my siblings by blood. She got together with a conartist bastard. Told myself its her life, warned her, the rest wasn’t up to me. Didn’t stop me from trying to get rid of the bastard. Lucky for Sis -and so for me as well-, the prick showed his true colors. Now she’s fine.”

- Korhil Sunpaw

“I was always better at using weapons than my little brother, especially swords. Never lost to him, never thought I would. He became better than me with a bow, that i admit freely, but blades were my specialty. That is, until the day I found his injured daughter and brought her home. The fool, mad with worry, thought it was me who hurt her, called me for a duel. I thought it will be easy, just knocking some sense into him and that’s it. How wrong I was. My blade was out of my hands after the first few exchanges, his at my throat. I lost to him utterly.”

- Marcus the Bloodthirsty

“Where I go, blood flows. My sword needs it. I need it. I spare noone who gets in my way.” was what he said, but it was not the truth. Once, he spared someone.

- Niariona/Nia

Niariona should not even exist, yet she does. Result of a monstrous experiment by the Twilight Hammer, her very being is the result of brilliant but warped minds playing creators. She shoudl have been eradicated already. There were attempts, and her current wherebauts ar eunknown, but she is still alive.

// Thank you @nocturnedreaming , this was a nice challenge.

[crqstalite]

drabble, mistrust. (malavai && tri’ama)

i played through quinn’s romance and while i understand the hate on him, i also absolutely adored the buildup to the quinncident as he romances her (or as tri romances him. oddly enough, romancing quinn sounds like you’re preying on him half the time.) and the conversation afterwards. however, i believed there had to be an interaction in between the conversation after the quinncident and the actual incident itself where the pc deals with not being able to trust the man she loves.

i’m so sorry this is p bad near the end bc i just needed to get this off my chest after playing as far as the incident. i haven’t even gotten onto corellia yet.

written : 7.15.19. published to tumblr : 7.15.19. word count : 3,002

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: youngblood, 5sos (this song was made for a ls sw who had mercy on quinn)

character file: lord tri'ama amarlilis, emperor’s wrath

-

she has him at lightsaber point. the look in his eyes, god that pleading look in those usually cold blue eyes.

something in her snaps. she could kill him, she could choke him out and leave him here to die. she could leave him here without a second thought, take the others and murder this son of a bitch baras.

and he looks like he’d accept it. battered, bloody and bruised her quinn sits, one hand over his side where she’d almost stabbed him. she’d tried not to hurt him, she really had. but the shot in her shoulder was enough incentive to finally do something to get him to stop shooting at her. tri'ama has the glowing blade nearly against his neck, it wouldn’t be hard. a quick slash and it would be over.

he’s too understanding. too able to understand her jumbled emotions, not even a plea for his life. quinn understands she’s hurt. he would allow her to kill him, for what he’s done is unforgivable.

the hilt drops to ground, blade retracted as she tries her damn hardest not to cry. not to allow him to see her like this. giving him her uninjured hand to pull himself up on, she has to subtly help him stand. “my lord-”

“don’t.” she can’t bear to look him in the eye, but he understands, quieting immediatly. what was it all for, giving herself to someone who intended to betray her at the first sign of things not working out? she knew that romance didn’t ever end well in the empire, moreso in the sith order. but, stupidly, she’d believed quinn wasn’t like that. he was kinder than other imperials she’d met, cared for her injuries when they did happen, and let them move at a pace comfortable for both of them. “can you walk?”

tri'ama sounds choked up, she knows she does, but she turns around once she can see a visible nod from him. should she spare him? is it worth beating a man who’s already down? but it’s someone who betrayed her, someone who didn’t care that she loved him. all in the favor of his previous master.

she’s cold. absolutely freezing. she knows that her force abilities sometimes get out of hand to the point her emotions are so evident it changes the temperature around her. it could be as cold as hoth as she shivers, but her anger burning hot. betrayal hangs in the air as she continues walking back towards the airlock, hissing through her teeth as she moves her shoulder back and forth. it’s not broken, she doesn’t think, but…quinn was always the one to tell her when things seemed out of place. when things went wrong, he was there with a kolto pack or two.

her chest tightens at the thought. she trusted him, truly trusted him, not only with her life but also her vulnerability. she’d intended to keep this romance short, she’d had flings before the academy with other acolytes and any teenager unfortunate enough to flirt with her. she’d even had an unrequited crush on pierce for a bit, but she didn’t expect to be kissed, by quinn of all people. it lingers, as she pulls the memory from the depths of her mind.

it’s special because it’s from someone she…

someone she loves.

she’s never loved before. never truly given herself up to someone like she has for captain malavai quinn. how she offered him smiles and encouragement, and he often did the same, in that annoyingly quinn-way he had.

they eventually arrive to the airlock where the fury was docked. “quinn, go ahead. i will join you in but a moment.”

he hesitates. “my lord, do you…do you intend to tell the others what happened?”

her anger is beginning to disappate. at least at him, but she’s going to murder baras when she seems him again. but, forgiveness is not on her mind right now. a part of her says she’s lucky to let him live, to allow him to return to her crew even after what he’s done.

she raises her eyes to his. “no, i don’t intend to, quinn. it will remain…our secret.”

“thank you, my lord.” he attempts to bow for her, and she just wants to cry more as he grits his teeth before disappearing into the airlock. then, she’s alone. there’s no one on this ship, no one operating it but droids.

quinn intended to murder her, intended to leave her for dead. she could’ve died if she didn’t move when the first blaster shot was fired, only just barely missing. stars, she figured he didn’t want to hurt her at all. they danced around each other, after she destroyed his war droids with practiced accuracy. but when her grey-blue eyes met his colbalt blue ones, something softened in his face, firing off shot after shot that missed time and time again or bounced off her armor. the only real hit he’d gotten in was her shoulder.

tri'ama had done a surprising amount of damage. she’d never struck him directly, but a few force throws would do that to a person.

undoing the helm from around her neck, she breathes in the cool air of the ship as she leans against the wall. she’s trying to calm herself, but she’s shattering inside. tears well up in her eyes and they fall as she screams and cries like a child. like a wounded animal rage builds up in her as scattered boxes go flying. hands buried in her short hair, tri'ama doesn’t try to reign in her emotions. raw, powerful. that’s all she was, but she didn’t feel powerful right then.

she felt small. she felt oh so scared, terrified. she’d trusted quinn, she had trusted her partner. and he turns on her because of one darth making a power grab. sliding down the wall so that she’s sitting against it, she crumples, head buried in her arms. it hurts, god it hurts so much. it hurts, she just wants this pain in her heart gone, as it tears her apart inside.

“it’s not you, or me. it’s baras.”

she could owe everything to baras, from her apprenticeship after being under tremel for a few weeks, to giving her the permission to murder as many as she liked. gave her the opportunity to find her first lightsaber. to become a lord of sith.

and now what?

as the emperor’s wrath, she did what he and his hand asked. she no longer answered to baras.

she should’ve known, quinn would stay loyal to the person that gave him a career in the imperial military. all the signs were there, that unavoidable tic whenever someone said something demeaning towards the darth, whenever she expressed her annoyances for the man. when the voss had even told her someone would betray her, when pierce even mentioned there was no requirement for a transponder to dock at corellia.

she should’ve known.

she doesn’t know how late it is when she picks herself up and passes through the airlock. the ship is still light, and she hears talking from the galley.

tri'ama doesn’t want to talk to anyone, or she’ll start bawling like a baby. she won’t tell anyone of what transpired aboard the transponder situation, but she can’t bear facing the reality that baras intended to make her crew work for him, or kill them if they denied. vette, pierce, jaesa…even broonmark.

to see their lights go out, as she watched in horror as she stepped aboard the airlock above voss. crumpled up after fighting her rival, drahg. she’d fought with the raw strength of a woman in mourning, to the point even quinn himself was terrified afterwards, commenting she became more bloodthirsty at some point between then and when they met on balmorra.

did he know what was coming?

holding her helm in her hands, she races for her quarters, tripping over her own two feet. something is trickling down from her nose, and she already knows it’s not her own salty tears. she swipes at her nose, blood soaking into the underarmor she wears.

-

vette is the first to come find her in the coming days. she knocks a few times, mentions meals.

jaesa comes next, questioning whether she was allowed off the ship to do as she pleased.

pierce comes last, mentioning the plans for the bastion finally being nearly finished.

tri'ama doesn’t know how long it’s been. days, weeks. it couldn’t have been more than a month. she stays in her quarters, and only eats once everyone else has gone to bed. she does little more than that, and other than the every other day training with a practice saber in her room, she doesn’t do much.

she’s left alone with her own grief. she forgave him, but her heart wasn’t in it. she cries more than she ever has, a dam broken behind her eyes and in her heart.

she prays no one hears her. the heart shattering wails she stifles is for no one’s ears other than her own. she put this upon herself, trusting someone other than herself. but, for some reason she still feels that phantom arm around her waist as their lips crash together in the darkness of the cockpit, things left unsaid.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

she’s better than this, she knows that. but it happened, and now she’s reeling from the aftereffects.

“what did you even do?” vette’s voice filters through the door as she steps to leave the room. “tri’s been in there since you guys came back from that stupid transponder station.”

“i didn’t do anything.” quinn’s voice is shaky as he responds, her heart clenching as she pauses to listen. “possibly, she’s caught a cold.”

“bah, i’ve seen lord amarillis murder more people while suffering from the stomach flu, captain. what really happened?” pierce asks gruffly. “i’ve surely never seen her like this, never even leaving her quarters for meals with us.”

“why ask me? why not ask her?” quinn is losing options. it would seem suspicious, coming back from the transponder situation and not even speaking to one of them on her own. “i’m sure she’d be happy to answer.”

“i don’t think we’re talking about the same woman, captain.” jaesa remarks, quieter so that tri'ama can’t make it out the first time she speaks. “you’ve been planetside with her more than we have, the pure bloodshed when she’s angry. doesn’t it terrify you?”

“it does not.” he answers calmly. “if there is something wrong, i’m sure she will inform you when she needs to.”

there’s a thick silence before vette speaks up. “you did something, didn’t you?”

“what are you implying, vette?” quinn asks, coldly. he’d at one point gotten somewhat close to vette, at least to not to want to choke her out everytime he saw her, even to the point of conversing like normal people. but it didn’t sound anything like him, as if he were annoyed, or perhaps angry.

like how he’d sounded when he spoke to her.

half apologetic, but fully cold.

“you know exactly what i’m implying. you said something, o-or did something to tri! she really trusts you, and no shit why she’s hiding from us!”

tri'ama gave her credit, she was perceptive. too perceptive some days. “you would accuse me of such a thing?”

vette’s voice is quiet as she mutters something. “we’re not stupid, quinn. she really cares about you, even if she likes to play it off as otherwise. why else would she ignore all of us, if you didn’t have a hand in it?” tri'ama can imagine vette’s lanky form as she crosses her arms, gaze cold. “what really happened on that transponder station, captain?”

it’s quiet. you could cut the tension with a lightsaber, and tri'ama runs a hand through her short blonde hair. willing her hands to stop shaking, she opens the door to her quarters, as all eyes find hers. vette’s closer to quinn than she first assumed, standing directly in front of him in an accusing manner. pierce and jaesa sit on the couch, in various states of confusion and mild suspicion. broonmark is nowhere to be found, but tri'ama figures that’s a good thing. if the talz ever found out, she may send quinn home to dromound kaas in a body bag.

“tri!” vette exclaims. she’s trying to hide her obvious elation at seeing who she respects as an older sister and mentor, before giving a murderous glance to quinn. “you’re alright!”

“i was fine to begin with, vette.” she responds, cracking a small smile as her twi'lek friend visibly relaxes. “there is…nothing wrong.”

“you look like a woman in mourning.” vette responds, unconvinced as she crosses her arms. “did i wake you? i’m sorry.”

“do not be sorry, vette. i was awake already.” she says. tri'ama’s choosing her words carefully as she sweeps across the room, choosing a seat next to jaesa. she ignores eye contact with quinn, which while to the untrained eye he doesn’t seem bothered by, but to her, she can tell that her actions have ruffled him quite a bit, from the way he holds himself to the way his eyes flicker to her stiff form on the couch. “are you all okay?”

“ready for corellia whenever you are, m'lord.” pierce responds, standing from the couch. “vette was concerned something had happened on the transponder station a few weeks ago.”

“it’s good to see her concerns didn’t hold true.” jaesa says, giving her the wicked smile she’d always recognize her apprentice by. “if that is the case, vette, we have supplies to be restocking.”

vette pauses, opening her mouth to say something else before turning back to tri'ama. “tri, don’t hesitate to call me if he tries anything.” she makes a ‘i’m watching you’ movement towards quinn, who stiffens visibly before stalking after jaesa. pierce has already disappeared into the bowels of the ship, most likely to return to doing what he was prior or preparing for the attack on the bastion.

firmly keeping her eyes lowered, she twiddles her thumbs back and forth in her lap. vette’s right, she does look like a woman in mourning, wearing black greaves and a black tunic with her hair down. she’s not often dressed like this, often enjoying the color red against her pale skin, pale eyes and pale hair. a stark contrast to her natural look, black only makes her look more gaunt than she already is.

she hesitates before his name graces her lips. “quinn, may i speak to you?”

“of course, my lord.” his answer comes quicker than she first expected, a rushed response.

“in private, preferably.” he follows her into her quarters as she sits on her bed, made since earlier in the morning. she’s not sure where to begin once he steps inside, just moments ago wishing one of them would go away.

“my lord, i have my resignation prepared. i just need the word.”

her head snaps up to her captain. resignation? he was planning on resigning from his post here on the fury? “resignation? quinn-”

“if my presence offends you, my lord, i would not hesitate to leave. what i did was unforgivable, and you gave me mercy just allowing me to live.” she tensing again, the fabric of her tunic balled up in her fists. “i would not continue hurting the woman..the woman i love.”

“quinn, you would hurt me more by leaving.” the words leave her lips before she can take them back, and he seems shocked for a moment. “i grant mercy to those i care about, and you happen to be one of them.” standing, its a long few feet before she can stare up at him, those colbalt blue eyes boring into her soul. her arms go around him quicker than she wanted, collapsing into him as her emotions take over, tears falling down her face as she buries her head into his chest. “please don’t leave me, quinn. i couldn’t bear it!”

things are unsaid, but he hugs her back just as tightly. “if you will have me for that much longer, i shall not, my lord.”

she’s so absolutely compromised, but right then she doesn’t care. or she does, but buries it through her tears. quinn holds her as long as she cries, and they don’t talk, eventually moving to her bed. for a fleeting moment, she’s afraid that if she let’s go of the back of his uniform, he’ll run. that it’ll finally be too much for him, too much to deal with her and her emotions.

“please, do not ever do such a thing again. i have never loved, and i have already almost lost you.” she responds, wiping away a tear as they continue falling. “quinn, i do not know what i would do without you.”

“then do not believe it. i apologize my lord, it never should’ve come down to my loyalty against yours and baras’” he responds, quieter and softer than he’s ever spoken to her. he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, “i can assure you, this will never happen again. my life will be dedicated to you from here on forward.”

she raises her head to his, pausing only for a moment before crashing their lips together. it’s rough, as was their first kiss because tri'ama wasn’t expecting it, but the passion that they expel is almost overbearing. she’s still crying, but not out of betrayal anymore, but for the love she has for this man. for a moment, he hesitates, but allows her to do so, pressing back with the same amount of force, as she tangles her hands in his hair.

when they pull away, she’s breathing hard but still tangled in his embrace. “i deny your resignation request, malavai.”

he doesn’t look disappointed in the slightest, even giving her a soft smile that graces his usually hardened features. “i understand, tri'ama.” and she given yet another kiss that she can only describe as euphoric.

-

[queen-scribbles]

Really Good Timing

@pillarspromptsweekly prompt: Late

Tavi had never been one for plans. She preferred to charge in heedless of consequences and fuck shit up in hopes that she’d win. That strategy had worked so far--there were some close calls in there, but she was still alive.

However, the ruined fortress that loomed over them now was clearly the sort of place where that would be a death wish. And not her usual ‘low odds, but slim chance of success’ death wish. An actual, honest-to-Berath ‘prepare to meet the Usher’ death wish.

Since she had no desire to bring that end on her friends(and the man she loved), Tavi stayed where she was. Crouched behind a boulder, glaring at the slaver heraldry crudely painted on the fortress’ gates. “Anybody got a bright idea for takin’ care of these copperfuckers?”

“Too bad it’s far enough inland we can’t pull the ship around an’ let ‘em have it,” Konstanten muttered. “Place looks like it’d come down  with a couple good volleys.”

“That would be ideal,” Tavi snorted. She flicked a pebble off the top of the boulder. “But we can’t. Prob’ly the only reason Crookspur took over this place; y’can’t hit it from the water. So how do we handle this without it bein’ a death wish?”

“We’ll probably need to split up,” Aloth pointed out, twisting one of his rings as he examined the fortress’ construction and the holes that littered it. “Some cause a distraction, draw attention, while the others sneak in somewhere else and hit them from behind.”

“Huntin’ the Leaden Key’s made you sneaky, city slicker,” Tavi said with a laugh.  “I like it. So, should me an’ Xoti go cause a ruckus while you boys sneak in somewhere else?”

He glanced at Edér and Konstanten. “If you’re drawing more attention from the brutal, bloodthirsty slavers, shouldn’t you have the bigger group? Both for efficiency at achieving that goal and for safety?”

She rolled her eyes, but he did have a point. “Fine, fine, if you’re that worried about me.” She winked. “I”ll take Xoti and Konstanten since we’re the best at bein’ loud”--she shot Edér a dirty look when he bit the side of his hand to keep from laughing--”Not a fuckin’ word, Teylecg. You two can sneak in somewhere less watched once we got ‘em riled and kick ass.”

“How did I know you would want the more...combative part of this endeavor?” Aloth asked with a smile.

“It’s me,” Tavi shrugged, shooting him a cocky grin. “And you know me.” She leaned over and gave him an impish kiss on the cheek. “Just don’t take too long, Corfiser. We’re pretty badass, but I dunno how long we’ll go against every fucker in the place.”

He chuckled. “Noted. We’ll do our best to move swiftly without attracting undue attention.” A meaningful look at Edér. “You’re better at that now, yes?”

Edér snorted. “Some, yeah.”

“Good to hear.” Aloth turned back to Tavi, caught her grinning at him. “What?”

“Confidence looks good on you,” she said, winking to ensure he caught her meaning. “I like it.”

He went red and his ears dipped, but he pressed on with the business at hand after only one mildly embarrassed cough. “Tavi. Should we look around before we begin to ensure there are viable routes inside?”

She waved off the suggestion. “Nah, look at the place; it’s fallin’ apart. I’m sure both of us’ll find a way in without too much trouble.”

Aloth shot her a look. “You’re just impatient to beat people up.”

“Yes.” Tavi half-growled, bouncing on her toes until Edér yanked her back down. “‘Cept I’d argue slavers have lost the right t’ be called people. I wanna go kill some scum-suckin’, copperfuckin’ bazzos.”

“I’m with the Watcher,” Xoti piped up, rolling her sickle from hand to hand.  “Maybe a tad less enthusiastic, but if we stand here jawin’ much longer, they’ll die of old age ‘fore we can mete some justice on ‘em.”

“What she said,” Tavi said, pushing to her feet. “Let’s blazin’ go.” She shot Aloth a grin. “See ya on the other side city slicker”--and tugged Xoti and Konstanten into motion down the rocky slope.

<>~~<>~~<>

They weren’t exactly stealthy on their approach, but Tavi did figure the closer they they got unnoticed, the better their odds coming out of this alive. Alive was good. Alive would mean kissing Aloth in triumph once all these bastards were dead, laughing at Xoti’s jokes, trading jibes with Edér and Konstanten on the way back to the Defiant. To that end, she and her companions didn’t speak as they made their way down the hill.

And they were surprisingly successful; they’d made it all the way inside through a large crack in the wall before a lookout spotted them. Konstanten’s axe made short work of him. 

“Alright, now we just head for the center of this place killin’ all the slavers we can along the way,” Tavi instructed, unsheathing her sabres. “We’re only stoppin’ if we have to, got it? We’re s’pposed to meet Aloth and Edér in the middle, an’ I don’t wanna leave them hangin’.”

“Got it,” Konstanten nodded.

“I wasn’t plannin’ to stop,” Xoti agreed, eyes glinting with determination.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tavi grinned, and went charging down the nearest available hallway.

There wasn’t much resistance at first, but that quickly changed as they moved inward. The more protected--and thus habitable--portions were crawling with slavers. Tavi, Xoti, and Konstanten cut a swath through them on their way towards the center. If this place was anything like the other slaver bastions they’d taken down, it would have a large open area, to serve as both slave market and training ground. That tended to be the sort of place they took over.

The same held true of this one. And, as luck would have it, several of the slaver captains were mid-heated argument smack in the middle when Tavi and her friends came charging into the space.

Tavi took full advantage of those few stunned seconds before the captains reacted, barreling across the distance to punch one in the jaw and jam one sabre into another’s gut. Konstanten wasn’t far behind her, and Xoti only hung back slightly further to provide support.

Slaver captains didn’t survive long in their career without having fucking quick reflexes, so Tavi and Konstanten only got in a few good hits before they retaliated. Tavi ducked a swipe at her head and nearly took a boot to the chest in the process. Konstanten bulled into the one who tried to kick her, knocking the man off his feet.

“This might be  good time to dig in and do our part,” he muttered, the words underscored by burying his axe in the slaver’s ribs.

Tavi grunted reluctant agreement. After all, the whole point of this plan was they couldn’t take all the slavers in a straight up fight. The three of them had caused their ruckus, gotten attention, now it was time to hold it until Edér and Aloth showed up. Better not take too long, city slicker.

She and Konstanten started backing towards Xoti, parrying blows and landing their own. The trio deliberately backed themselves into a corner, to make it more difficult for any archers that might skulk the ramparts.

“They better hurry up, Watcher,” Xoti murmured as reinforcements answered the hue and cry. “Or the whole plan’s gonna be up the creek without a paddle.”

“I know. They’ll be here.” Tavi kicked a slaver in the knee and slashed open his throat as he stumbled.

“That’s not the worrisome part,” Konstanten retorted. “We know they’ll show up. The trick is doin’ it in time, or we won’t be here to help mop up.”

She did have to concede that point. Maybe she should’ve let Aloth look for a definite way in before setting everything in motion. Too late now. Tavi flinched as a crossbow bolt hit the wall and stone chips stung her cheek. “Well, then, the longer we hold out the better.”

That was easier said than done. Especially once Konstanten took a crossbow bolt to the shoulder and the slavers produced a wizard who met Xoti spell for spell.

Shit, shit, shit. Tavi spat blood at the staff-wielding elf who’d just cracked her across the face, her ribs aching from another similar blow. There was plenty more where that came from, that was abundantly clear. Hylea’s tits, Aloth, where the fuck are you?!

As if in answer, the body of a ramparts guard thudded to the ground nearby, in conjunction with a massive fireball that engulfed at least half the encroaching slavers. Some had time for a final shriek of agony, but most were ash and cinder before they knew what (literally) hit them.

“Nice entrance, city slicker!” Tavi hollered, even though she couldn’t see him yet. Knew they’d show up. A few minutes earlier would have been nice, but they’d showed up and that was the important part. She’d almost swear she heard him laugh as he stepped out through one of the nearby doorways. But she was too busy taking advantage of the surviving slavers’ distraction to be sure.

The fireball had been aimed perfectly and done enough damage that even with Konstanten hurt--and her not in the best shape herself--the five of them were able to handle the ensuing fight. It wasn’t easy, but it was doable. That was all she needed.

“Took you long enough,” she joked breathlessly when Aloth finally reached her, the two of them instinctively assuming a back-to-back stance.

“Apologies,” Aloth paused to slam him grimoire into a scarred and gnarly dwarf who was getting too close. “There were complications.”

“And I’ll want details, but after we’re done kickin’ ass,” Tavi said wryly, skewering another slaver. 

“Naturally.” He sounded.... nonchalant. Like he was trying to decided what book to read, not fighting the remnants of a brutal slaver coalition.

It made her roll her eyes as she punched the closest slaver in the nose and slashed open her face. Oh, c’mon, Tavi it’s part of why you love him. She rolled her eyes again--this time at herself--as she glanced toward Xoti and Konstanten to make sure they were still (relatively) alright.

To her relief, Edér had climbed down and positioned himself between chanter and priest. His years of protective instincts were clearly at war with the more subtle (less armored) fighting style he’d shifted to recently. She chuckled as Xoti murmured a quiet prayer and Edér’s leathers pulsed briefly with a soft golden glow. She’d benefited from that one herself; an armor “enhancement” Xoti had called it, her faith manifesting to protect her friends. It let Tavi hit things with less worry about retaliation, so she didn’t really care about the ins and outs of how it worked.

Neither did Edér, apparently. He shot Xoti a quick, grateful smile and stepped between Konstanten and an approaching tough, his weapons raised in a defensive stance. It didn’t stay defensive for long.

“Tavi!”

She whipped back around at the urgency in Aloth’s voice, feeling slightly guilty for how long she’d let her attention linger elsewhere. “Sorry!” She made up for it by slugging a nearby thug in the jaw and tripping him when he reeled back. His armor wasn’t heavy enough to offer much resistance when she drove a sabre into his chest. “Gotta make sure everyone’s doin’ alright, y’know.”

He let out a short laugh as he finished casting a cluster of magic missiles toward a menacing pair of slavers. “Glad I insisted you take the larger group?”

Tavi sighed and rolled her eyes even as she laughed. “Yeah, yeah, Corfiser, you’re a fuckin’ prophet.” She cut down another slaver. “Can’t wait to see what you’ll do next.” 

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but he was mid-casting and couldn’t retort. When he finished, a black sphere of energy materialized a few yards away. It swirled and pulsed with enough force to drag all the imminently threatening slavers to itself. He cocked an eyebrow at her as he followed up with the pinkish-purple blast of one of Minoletta’s more powerful spells.

It didn’t quite finish the slavers off, but between that and the breathing room, it was enough for them to gather their strength. And once they’d done that it was easy enough to swing through and kill the surviving slavers themselves. They were even all still standing--some in worse shape than others--when they were done.

Tavi took a moment to catch her breath, ribs aching on each inhale. This had been rougher than she liked when her friends’ lives were on the line. “Al...alright. Edér, Xoti, help Konstanten get that bolt outta his shoulder, try to patch it up some. Then the three of you can make sure these fuckers”--a dismissive gesture at the courtyard full of fallen slavers--”are all dead.”

“An’ what’ll you two be doin’?” Xoti asked, brows raised in an unspoken commentary on how Tavi was splitting them this time.

“Looking for stragglers, maybe see if there’s a dungeon or some shit with people who need to be released.” Tavi rolled her shoulders to alleviate the stiffness settling in to her spine.  “Since we dunno if this was more fortification or they were actually doin’ business here.”

“So long as we’re not gettin’ handed cleanup duty so you two can go make out,” Edér teased with a wink as he helped Konstanten, find somewhere relatively clear to sit.

“Oh, we’ll prob’ly do that, too,” Tavi shot back cheerfully. “Relief at still bein’ alive an’ all.” She grabbed Aloth’s hand as he bit back a smile and tugged him toward the nearest doorway. “C’mon, city slicker.”

“Are you certain you don’t need healing yourself?” Aloth asked quietly as they walked down the hall. “I saw you take some fairly nasty hits.”

“Yeah, mostly from that elf with the fuckin’ quarterstaff,” she countered. “Didn’t break anything, I think, so all I’ve got is a shit-ton of bruises. Can’t really do anything for that outside a hot bath.” A mischievous look in his direction.  “Though I have heard stories about kisses havin’ healin’ properties, if you wanna give it a shot...”

Aloth laughed and shook his head. “Tavi. Behave.”

“When the blazes have have I done that, and why the fuck would I start now?”

“True.” He slid his hand up her arm until it curled around the inside of her bicep and pulled her close to kiss her cheek. “There?”

“Little lower,” she smirked, ghosting her thumb along the bottom edge of her jaw, and he obliged. “Yep, that’s good. Kissin’ the rest’ll hafta wait ‘til we’re back on the ship, though, thanks to where most of ‘em are...” she let the words trail off suggestively.

“Let’s use this one as a test case,” Aloth dodged with a smile that said he was onto her. “To see if there’s any truth to these stories. We have a task to complete, do we not?”

“Right, right. Let’s go see if there’s anyone locked up in this shithole.” Tavi shook her head to regain some clarity--it was hard to think with him lingering so close--and resumed course down the hall. After a minute of them walking in silence, she piped up again. “Oh, yeah. I’ll have those details now, Corfiser. For why you were fuckin’ late backin’ us up.”

“Right.” He paused as they reached a door and gingerly pushed it open. The room was empty of slavers, and bore the appearance of an office. “I am truly sorry for the delay.”

“Did it take long to find a way in, or somethin’?” Tavi probed. They stepped into the office to search it. If there was a dungeon, after all, the keys were probably here.

“Not particularly.” Aloth shook his head. “It was relatively easy to find a way in, a half-collapsed doorway, in our case. Unfortunately, we both somehow missed that it was guarded. A wizard and a cipher,” he added as she opened to mouth to ask. 

“Is that where this came from?” she asked instead, reaching over to smear soot off his cheek.

He wrinkled his nose and nodded. “The cipher was easy enough to dispatch, once Edér got in close, but...”

“Oh, I know all about how dangerous wizards can be,” Tavi said, winking at him as she rifled through the armoire someone had jammed in the corner. “Clearly you handled it, ‘cause you showed up just in time to make one blazin’ Hel of an entrance.”

“That wasn’t the intention,” Aloth protested, face lighting briefly with triumph when he found a ring of keys in one of the desk drawers. “It simply seemed the best way to remove as much of the threat as possible.” He crossed to hand Tavi the keys. “There you are.”

“Thanks,” she said, the word covering a multitude of things. She ran her thumb over the keys’ teeth. “It was still really good timin’, Aloth. If it’d taken much longer...”

His ears dipped as he nodded. “I truly am so-”

Tavi pressed her fingers to his lips. “Stop apologizin’ for things that aren’t you’re fuckin’ fault, city slicker.”

Aloth tugged on her elbow to get her to drop her hand. “Even though it almost-”

“Yes.” She meant it. Close a call as that clusterfuck had been, the last thing she needed or wanted was him blaming himself for things outside his control.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Aloth pulled her into a kiss with enough momentum they stumbled back into the wall behind him. Tavi got one hand up in time to brace against the stone, the other instinctively curving along his jaw and digging into his hair. They savored it for a long minute before parting.

“Not that I really need a reason, city slicker,” Tavi murmured, lightly resting her forehead against his, “but what was that for?”

Aloth leaned into their contact. “Just grateful we weren’t a few seconds later...”

She chuckled softly. “So’m I.” She tilted her shin to catch another quick kiss before stepping back. “It worked out, though. Now let’s go see if these unlock what I think they do” --she rattled the keys--”before I get distracted and Edér ribs us endlessly for provin’ him right.”

He laughed and pushed away from the wall to follow. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Tavi smiled as she took his hand again, sensing his lingering self-recrimination.  “Yeah, he teases enough as it is. And look, Aloth, you know I’m just teasin’, right? I do that. I know better than most that things rarely go according to plan, especially for us.” She squeezed his hand as they continued down the hallway. “That’s why I rarely bother; what’s the point of a plan if it’s gonna get thrown out the fuckin’ window in the first five seconds?”

One side of Aloth’s mouth curved as he tipped his head in concession. “We do have to do that a lot, don’t we?”

“All the fuckin’ time!” she said emphatically. “Ah, this looks promising...”

They’d reached a door, sturdier than the last, secured by both key and bolt locks. IT only took a few tries to find the right key, and the bolt slid back easily enough. The door revealed curving steps down when it opened, extremely weak torchlight struggling to flicker up.

“Aloth?” Tavi said before they started down.

“Hm?”

“Thanks for showing up.”

This time, rather than attempt to sidestep her gratitude, he simply smiled.  “Always,” he promised.

The two of them descended the stairs, killed the slavers standing guard, and set about freeing the slaves they found. It took awhile, even though there were only a handful; there was no rhyme or reason to which key went in which lock. When that was finally done, Tavi led the way back up and out to join her friends. Given the Defiant had more than enough supplies to reach land, she welcomed the freed slaves aboard. She didn’t have a plan for where they would go (on the ship or once they reached land), but the lack of a plan had never stopped her before.

[eponymous-rose]

There's been some interesting talk about character alignments in the tag and I was wondering what you thought?

Oh gosh, it was neat to see that discussion! Keeping in mind that the whole idea of character alignments is intended to be a loose descriptor to aid with character-building (especially in 5e, where many of the alignment-based restrictions in gameplay from earlier editions have been peeled away) and can be extremely limiting and actively get in the way of a super RP-heavy game, and that this is just me goofin’ and isn’t intended to reflect the truth of the characters or whatever, here are my thoughts!

Look, I gotta start with Grog. Grog’s officially chaotic neutral, but I think an argument could be made that he’s been making a slow turn toward chaotic good since the Westruun arc–which shouldn’t be too surprising, since his entire character arc hinges on the one moment in which he sacrificed himself to protect an innocent. He definitely embodies chaos (Travis has talked about how Grog is just him with absolutely no filter, and he frequently does the first thing that pops into his head), but the underlying motivations behind what he does are generally based on the notion of protecting others, even if he doesn’t know them well, and even if it means he might fall in the process. There’s not a whole lot of pragmatism with Grog, is what I’m saying, and more and more often he’s been the one jumping into something because it’s gonna be a super fun bloodbath… and grudgingly admitting that it’s also just maybe the right thing to do. He might not be there yet–when he does the right thing, it’s often for the wrong reasons–but it seems to me that he’s certainly carving his way in that general direction.

Scanlan is a really prime example of chaotic good, which is his official alignment. He generally is working to do good things, but his priorities are also more aligned with protecting those closest to them than with any nebulous idea of “good for good’s own sake” (killing an innocent in order to keep from hurting Vax, backing away from an injured Pike in order to keep his promise to Kaylie). He’ll do bad things, sometimes, to protect the people he cares about most. And here’s one way the alignment chart kind of falls down: it generally treats self-sacrifice as a purely altruistic act pushing someone closer to the good side of the axis, but Scanlan’s avoiding self-sacrifice is arguably more “good” than the alternative.

I think it makes sense for Vex to have returned to chaotic good–I’ve argued in the past that a lot of the conflict that led up to her chaotic neutral shift was because she as a character hadn’t had a chance yet to push into Act II of her character development. Although Laura has from the very beginning talked about how Vex’s “greed” is a direct result of her poverty and frustration growing up, early in the show her haggling was still being done more for laughs than for any sort of deep character reason (kind of like Pike’s occasional moments of brutality early on), which really embodied the “good and evil are secondary to my concerns” attitude of chaotic neutral. Matt tends to use things like alignment shifts (or, in Pike’s case, a shattered holy symbol) as a reminder to the player that gags taken too far will actually shift their character, just to keep everyone on the same page emotionally and to make sure everyone’s taking the same parts of the game seriously. Now that Vex has finally been able to take the spotlight with the Feywild arc and get some solid character development, it seems completely natural that she’d shift back to chaotic good; fundamentally, her character’s always been about doing right in the world, even if her methods are sometimes a little bit unorthodox, and even if her personal traumas sometimes keep her from being able to act on those good intentions.

Keyleth’s a really interesting case, because on the one hand she’s generally the one (along with Vax) reining the group in from their more bloodthirsty impulses, but on the other, she’s aggressively suspicious and mistrusting of authority. For that reason, I think it’s bang-on that she’s neutral good as opposed to chaotic or lawful. The entire situation with Raishan is why I think alignment charts are so limiting: her vows for revenge and willingness to sacrifice herself (and possibly even allies) if necessary aren’t quite in keeping with neutral good on paper, but it’s painfully obvious that there’s a good in-character reason for that attitude, and it seems really goofy to try and put an alignment shift on that when she’s making the effort to seek counsel (from Grog of all people!) about how to keep her rage in check. Neutral good seems about right, with a possible meander towards chaotic good lately.

Vax, I think, is starting to veer more into lawful good territory than his official chaotic good alignment. He’s begun following an extremely strict self-imposed code that does prioritize his found family, but in a very codified sort of way. He sees himself as an instrument, a weapon, to be wielded by his sister, by Keyleth, and by the Raven Queen, in more-or-less that order. After each major battle since episode 44, whenever time has permitted, he’s made a point of tending to the dead, because while the Raven Queen may only reign over the moment of their passing, her followers (like the Bastions in Vasselheim) have been shown to feel a certain responsibility towards the earthly remains. There’s still a clear break between Vax-the-rogue and Vax-the-paladin, however, in that Vax spent his entire early life pushing back against anything organized or restrictive and has always valued personal freedom. A lot of his character’s conflict comes from that forced see-sawing between lawful and chaotic depending on the gravity of the situation and the weights other people (or deities) have placed on either end of that see-saw.

I’m one of the folks who’s vaguely astounded that Percy’s official alignment is neutral good. To be fair, I think it’s valid to base someone’s alignment on what they desperately want to be, and Percy, if he were to honestly fill out a character sheet for “where I want to see myself in five years”, would absolutely mark “neutral good”. But he gets distracted from his pursuit of goodness very, very, very easily. I’m not talking about the corruption during the Whitestone arc, I’m not talking No Mercy Percy, I’m talking about all the little things Percy does, the “I’ve had a terrible thought”s, handing Grog Craven Edge, stabbing Raishan. Taliesin has talked a lot about how he enjoys playing characters who appear to have one alignment and actually follow another, and has said repeatedly that Percy is convinced he’s the only adult in the room, which leads on occasion to a strange sort of self-loathing confidence; he has terrible thoughts and recognizes them as such, but he’s also fully convinced they’re correct and even justified, which is so interesting. His willingness to experiment because “it’ll be funny”, and his fascination with the darker side of his own nature (which has been held back a bit lately for obvious reasons), I think, pushes him into neutral territory despite his best efforts. His love of lawful order is difficult to gauge, because so much of the words he says about nobility and tradition have a certain amount of self-effacing mockery to them. I think it could be argued that Taliesin’s playing him as a chaotic neutral character who usually (but not always) remembers that he’s trying to be neutral good and sometimes goes lawful out of long-forgotten reflex.

This is already super long, and Pike hasn’t had nearly the level of character development of the others lately, so I’ll just say that I think her official alignment of chaotic good is so, so, so right for her. Sarenrae is neutral good, but Pike has been through a lot, and her influence on Grog hasn’t been entirely one-way.