#korwyn.

[sneekysoft]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 — so, show me what to do to restart this heart of mine how do i forgive myself for losing so much time?

[pheenick]

MOODBOARD   ➝   relationships

dawn & korwyn   /   EVERYTHING GOOD ABOUT ME FIRST CAME FROM YOU.

@sneekysoft

[universalfanfic]

@inkoutsidethelines If you ever want to mention more of Korwyne in GG I’d be fine with that

[slowtimelove]

OC ASKS: - aramis: pain (What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?) - halcyon: betrayal (Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?) - ilta: desire (What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?) - judgement: hate (What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?) - marjan: hunt (Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?) - nikias: midnight (What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?) - nate: ghost (Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?) - yen: mask (Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?)

oh boy okay some of these are redacted. also i'm putting some of these in their own post because u specifically are not allowed to know kisskiss

aramis. pain: what's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? do they have a high pain tolerance?

remember a couple sessions ago when he went down to 4 hp? that was when. pain tolerance is about average.

halcyon. betrayal: has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

no, not really, to both. she's a very upfront person and doesn't tend to resort to subterfuge, unless you count going behind korwyn's back to get zyb to promise that she wouldn't fuck him over.

ilta. desire: what's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? are they open with that desire? why or why not? what would they do to fulfill it?

oh lord how deeply he wants to be loved and be accepted both as a monster and a good man.

the judgement. hate: what does your OC hate? why? how do they act towards the object of their hatred?

currently do not have an answer!

marjan. hunt: who or what is your OC hunted by? a person, a feeling, a past mistake? is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

her past, a little bit. she's slowly realizing some things about who she used to be before she was in the body she currently occupies, especially with the realization that she has a (kinda?) living brother. that, and she's very curious about what the hell she and rahadin used to have going on after getting a vision of her previous incarnation literally dying in his arms.

nikias. midnight: what keeps your OC up at night? do they have nightmares? fears? anxieties? what do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

the idea that they might not succeed at saving the world, really. the idea that maybe he won't be a good mother to enorys. how much she misses medhel. doesn't really dream, so doesn't have nightmares all that often. and between pythor and enorys being in the same room, he tends to just stay in bed and snuggle back into pythor's arms.

thanatos. ghost: who or what haunts your OC? what happened? how do they live with their ghosts?

u're not allowed to know, i'll put it in another post.

yenesis. mask: does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? what goes on beneath it? is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

yes, and it's a pathetic little sad wet boy mask. he's a college of tragedy bard, so he exaggerates how sad and pitiful he is with the makeup turning his brows up a bit and his constant little pout and fragile little countenance. he's actually fine, or as fine as someone that travels the domains of dread can be. fane gets to see behind the mask the most, what with them being a couple and all — and yes, he looks like a completely different person underneath.

[janzoo]

3: Post a snippet from your writing that describes your OC. <---- for K's sister! (kept secret a bit in case spoilers)

(Original meme)

Thanks for the discretion! I’m not keeping her a secret - she’ll be one of the first new aspects introduced to the story, at least as things are currently planned. :D

As for the meme request...unfortunately, I haven’t done a lot of actual writing with her yet. I did a little something during NaNoWriMo though, and hopefully this bit from it will suffice: 

               “Indeed,” agreed Korwyn. “We have all been through much. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, too, Kormac.”

               “Ah, I’m fine,” replied the Templar.

               “That doesn’t answer my question,” said Korwyn. “I know you ate – before I lay down in my own bedroll, I want you to promise you’ll rest tonight, and not volunteer to, to, I don’t know, stand guard or something.”

               “…Fine. I shan’t argue with you over this,” Kormac conceded.

               “Good. I appreciate that – we’re so glad to have you back, Kormac. Truly. ‘Tis a blessing to us. So you can best be sure that we’re going to make sure you’re in good health. We’ve several years of love to catch up on,” said Korwyn.

Yeah, I’m happy with that describing Korwyn. :) Thanks for meme-ing with me!

[spudgystories]

Inktober/WIPtober 2019 Days 5-8

Korwyn from Torysse [as my first few days all were]

Queen Rubella from The Port of Manteau

A self-portrait

And Abe Gladwell from The Port of Manteau

Sorry I've been slacking posting them here!

[kilanas-starseeker]

Comatose pt. 2: The Autumnfall Burden

The crimson halls were all too familiar. The torches, laminated in their thalassian gold, illuminated the path that the physician so eagerly took. His footsteps were hurried, the doing of urgency, all in an effort to reach the chamber doors that established his destination.

Korwyn paused before the doors. Nostalgia had captured him, but had not settled the sickening feeling that weighed in his stomach.

The doors parted by the doctor’s command, revealing the formal chamber room that hosted the congregation. Several of Quel’thalas’s most notable lords and ladies were gathered around the oval table, some seated while others remained standing. Amongst the many heads that turned, a single voice overcame the atmosphere of intrusion.

“Welcome, Doctor Autumnfall. I am pleased to know that you received my summoning. Please. Have a seat.”

Korwyn swallowed hard. “I apologize for my late arrival, Lord Lightwield. Dalaran is--”

“In a state of emergency, yes, we are fully aware, Doctor,” answered the elder that sat at the helm of the gathering. The elder cleared his throat as he rose from his seat. His radiant sapphire gaze shifted to all those that gave their attention to him. A single hand was raised from his pearly colored robes commanding the doors to close and the torches to dim. “Let us not waste time in this hour of crisis, this moment of wickedness and grim fate…Lord Or’theros, if you would.”

The Lord nodded as he stepped to the front of the conversation. “Approximately 72 hours ago, a criminal suspected of treachery and the murdering of a feudal lord was brought before the magistrate by the hand of King’s Guard Commander, Lord Sapphiron Starseeker, for trail. Some of you that are here now were in attendance, as was, his grace, the Sun King and the Prince.” He began, resting his hand upon the hilt of his blade. “It was during the trial that the suspect broke free of his bonds and targeted Commander Starseeker with the assistance of three impersonators…”

The atmosphere grew tense as many shook their heads in disgust.

“As of yesterday, Lord Sapphiron Starseeker, Patriarch of House Starseeker and its following households, has been declared dead, and his firstborn son, Kel’thelan Starseeker as its new patriarch.” The lord continued. “Since then, several members of prominent families across the eastern kingdoms have been targeted, and many, successfully assassinated.”

“What could this mean?” cried one of the ladies. Korwyn looked up towards the woman, had he not already recognized her, it would’ve been her broach that established her as the Dawnreaver matriarch.

Many spoke in unison, declaring their disbelief and their questions. Between the information and the unknown, there was little room for solace. Korwyn closed his eyes. He was fully aware of the situation, and dreaded every moment of it. There was so much more to the evident crisis than what was given, but he could not grasp even the slightest bit of it until a single voice pulled his attention back into the circle.

“And what of the Starseekers?” Voiced the Eventide patriarch, accompanied by his equally rational matriarch.

There was an eerie silence that lingered as the lords and ladies looked between each other. “Doctor Autumnfall..?” Spoke the Lightwield elder as he turned his wrinkled face toward the physician. “Perhaps you could alleviate the Eventides, as well as the rest of us, of our inquiries, yes?”

Korwyn pursed his lips before rising slowly. “As of four hours ago, 25 members of House Starseeker and their lesser houses have been assassinated. Fourteen of them being direct descendants of the Starseeker lineage. It can be reasonably concluding that the other killings that are happening around the globe are simply a distraction for the true wickedness at play. Someone is targeting the Starseekers and is succeeding.”

“What of Sapphiron’s children?” Interjected another. “How do we know that Kel’thalan and Kil’anas Starseeker are safe?”

“Kel’thelan is under the protection of his subordinates, seeing as how he, too, exists as a division commander within the King’s Guard.” Voiced a decorated magister, a speaker for the Bloodsworn family. “As for Kil’anas, he is currently at the right hand of one of the Kirin Tor’s Council of Six. Considering their abilities, I would concern myself less with Sapphiron’s children, but rather their families. What of Kel’thelan’s heir?”

The prophet of the Lightwield family shook his head. “Kel’thelan has taken no wife, nor bore any children...however…”

The elder’s gaze was cast upon Korywn who, in turn, swallowed before speaking. “Two hours ago, Kil’anas’s wife, Serrena Or’theros-Starseeker arrived in Dalaran seeking emergency treatment.” He paused. “Twenty minutes before my arrival, Serrena Or’theros delivered a child. A healthy baby boy.”

“The boy is not safe in Dalaran!” Voiced a Lord

“He is no safer in Quel’thalas!”

The voices gathered in debate, only to be silenced by the hand of the Elder. “The boy cannot remain under the care of either the Starseekers nor the Or’theros families...” Lord Or’theros remained silent as the Elder continued. “...for simply existing in either family’s houses would bring about suspicion and endanger the child. It also goes without question that no one bearing the Starseeker surname can know of his existence.”

“Perhaps we should place him into the care of another house.” voiced the Eventide matriarch. “The Eventides have long been friends to the Starseekers. We would take the boy in with open arms.”

The Elder smiled. “Your generosity is most gracious, Lady Eventide, but the matter has already been discussed.”

Korwyn watched the elder rise with a curiosity that matched the climate of the room.

“I have spoken to my granddaughter in law over this particular occasion. It is with her consent and her persistence that the boy be placed under the care of an individual whose family has long served the Starseeker House in times of sickness and in health.”

The lords and ladies looked amongst each other, eager to solve the riddle the Elder had offered them.

“Who is it?” A lord chimed.

“Yes, who shall bear this burden?” Inquired another.

The elder pointed a single gesture, and with it, directed the attention of the room. “Will you take this burden, this grand responsibility, to guide the child born of the Starseeker lineage? Will you raise him to bear the burden of his bloodline whilst naming the child neither Starseeker nor Or’theros? Will you take Anasuren Sapphiron Lightwield as your own and see to it that he fulfills himself as one of High Thalassia’s greatest legacies?”

Korwyn lifted his head.

“What say you, Korwyn Autumnfall?”

--

Korwyn woke with a start. He had fallen asleep on his desk again, specifically on his paperwork; something he made note of as he peeled the parchment that had stuck to his face.

Another dream…

The Doctor peaked his head out into the infirmary. Nothing had changed. The setting was still dark, and the only patient present remained in his bed.

“Bloody hell…” Korwyn groaned as he ran his fingers across his face. He looked amongst the scatters of paperwork, the build up of medical records, research, and personal notes.

“I wonder...”

[clownfunfetti]

My half of bp's crew, @aeraya finished her half a long time ago, this is my only drawing for august,i am ashamed  

also repurposed Donny,he’s part of bp’s crew now

[tinimera]

> Aodhan: Abide fate.

> You’re straightening up your little office when the call to arms rings out. The ship has pulled level with the cargo vessel the crew had been chasing and before long, there’s chaos above deck, with Barron’s booming voice like thunder amid the storm of stomping feet. The small crew you had been looking after scrambles to their positions, excited for a fight you have no doubt, and you yourself are preparing for the battle ahead. Knives in their sheaths, rifle slung across your back, nerves steeled; you hate that this has become second nature, but you don’t have time to linger on your guilt.

> You stay low as you join the others on deck, eye scanning the smaller ship and the crew aboard it. You’ve seen the glow in their eyes before, but there’s no way to tell which of them is or isn’t an old imperialist, and you learned a long time ago that showing mercy to the wrong person can have disastrous results. You won’t risk this crew. As the wicked faithful begin to board, white paint gleaming like sun-bleached bones in the moonlight, you find cover and take aim. Breathe in...

> The first round blows a young congregationer’s head apart as he surges up behind Chef with a set of scimitars ready to liberate the old man’s cranium clean from his neck. The second pierces a woman’s chest, but it takes another round to the kneecap to put her down, and you bolt from cover as you reload. You’ve never faced combat on a ship before, and even those few brief training sessions hadn’t quite prepared you for the challenge. The ship was rocking with the waves and with the chaos; it was hard to get a clean shot before a familiar face blocked your view or was flung away.

> You slide into place behind a stack of crates secured with heavy netting. Most of the fight is concentrated at center deck. You count the crew; Chef and Rigeti hurling someone overboard, Pontic is still standing, Korwyn is holding off a handful of the faithful pretty well, and Barron doesn’t seem to be struggling at all. You take aim, managing another clean headshot to scatter the group around Korwyn and give her room to breathe -- she nods her thanks in your direction before disappearing into the fray again -- and you peer down the length of your rifle, ready to fire again until someone grabs you.

> You hadn’t even heard her coming. Nearly the size of Barron himself and built like a brick shithouse, the width of the arm that snapped around your waist alone was enough to shock you out of focus, and she hurled you effortlessly across the deck. You tumbled ass over teakettle into the rail and the only thing that stopped you from sliding overboard was the wood that pounded roughly against the back of your head. You were still seeing stars when she was on you again grabbing you by the neck like you were little more than a lawn ring fowl and the fact that she didn’t snap it clean in half when she whipped you over her shoulder and into the deck would be a miracle you’d have to think about later.

> As she pulled her arm back again, probably to pop your skull like an egg, you jabbed her in the ribs with a knife and swiped a second across her forearm in a clumsy attack on her tendons. You could hold your own in a fight against almost any troll your size or smaller, but this one in particular was a beast you hadn’t quite managed to encounter yet in all your travels. She snarled in rage, not pain, as her right hand became nearly useless and indigo blood sprayed across your face. Unfortunately for you, it turned out she wasn’t right-handed.

> It only took a few minutes but somehow the blades of your knives ended up buried to the hilt in your body. You took one of them to the shoulder, another just barely missed your jugular but still nicked you, and the third made pretty solid contact with your stomach a few times before you could escape from her. She seemed especially enraged when you showed her you still had a few tricks left as you pulled a long hunting knife from its sheath at your back and nearly carved the imperial symbol off her bicep in one swift motion. You were losing a lot of blood, though. More than seemed to be coming from the open vein in her arm, at least, and your options seemed to amount to either tactical retreat or having your head ripped off and crammed somewhere rather terrible.

> So you ran. You grabbed your rifle and booked it across the deck, only stopping once when you heard her footsteps and a jeering taunt about Pontic and -- damn your predictable verdant nature --  you fired your last round, one handed, bad shoulder, god damn fool, and the pain was immense but it had nearly crippled her. Only nearly, because after taking that shot like a wall of ballistic glass, she barrelled toward you with a wild laugh that chilled you to your bones. You dropped your rifle and scrambled away, at least for a few steps until she caught you by the hair and your face met the wall, where she then pinned you firmly. She had more than a few unpleasant ideas in mind for you, which you knew, because she told you, all snarling voice in your ear as she applied crushing pressure to your back and head until you almost started to hope you’d pass out from the lack of breath before she did any more damage.

> As a last ditch effort, you blindly jammed a needle into her side. Its contents sprung from its container, propelled by a spring, and she laughed nastily at the fairly weak attempt. A bit of quick math... she’d probably be feeling that in a few minutes. A dose of toxins potent enough to drop Barron himself, though perhaps not a subjugglator rendered nearly unstoppable by a troll immensely more powerful than she herself was.

> Your vision was fading, but you knew this ship would not be where you died. You’d be fine, eventually... Knowing that, your claws slip free of the wood against your face, and you let the world go dark.

> Things would be fine... eventually...

[sneekysoft]

𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐘𝐍 & 𝐙𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐍𝐀 — i miss the friends i had to leave behind my dad saying "i'm proud of you son" it makes me wanna go home could i ever call this place home?

[arizonamugshots]

Korwyn Smith http://ARRE.ST/AZ-112633328

[sneekysoft]

BELL : Do you just keep thinking about what-ifs? KORWYN : I'm just… I'm just trying to prepare myself for what could go wrong. BELL : Because you're afraid? KORWYN : I'm always afraid.

[sneekysoft]

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐘𝐎𝐍 + 𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐘𝐍 — oh, and the stars align every night to spell out their love in tiny bright lights. @slowtimerolls

[sneekysoft]

𝐊𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐘𝐍 & 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀 — 'cause i'm not here to try to find a reason i'm just here to give you something you can lean on @harpersheroes

[slowtimelove]

last d&d session of the year ended with halcy proposing to korwyn out of the blue and stumbling all over herself, god bless her

[janzoo]

9: Your OC is having a nightmare. What is it?

(Original meme)

Better late than never! We’ll go with Korwyn, the OC sister I made for Kormac. Because I need to develop her more and I’m in a bit of a Diablo-mood now anyway.

Slight potential spoilers for the story I’m planning, first. (I say potential because this could change later.) When Kormac was taken by the Templars, they eventually told his family that he died somehow so they wouldn’t look for him. (I also considered the idea of Kormac being a name the Templars gave him, and not his birth name, to further separate him from his family. But I just...didn’t want to deal with that sort of complication. Besides, I couldn’t think of him by any other name if I tried.) Korwyn, however, believed he’s still alive. She could just feel it. Somehow. And thus, maintained hope that she’d see him again one day.

So, onto the question. What kind of nightmare would Korwyn have? Hmm...I think the sort of underlying theme of the nightmare would be hopelessness/despair. Maybe something like her walking down the streets of Westmarch, and nothing is outwardly wrong. Everyone is going about their daily business. But also, everyone’s eyes are just...lightless. They’re going through the motions just because, but with no drive or passion or soul anymore. At the end of the street is her house and family, just as soulless, as they fall into the despair of believing Kormac is dead. Not even trying to move on, or honour his memory - they just give up and waste away, no matter what Korwyn does.

Yeah, I’d say that works as a nightmare for someone aligned with the Hope aspect. 

Thanks for sending this in! :D