#oop vhaal disapproves

[demonwebs]

the playfulness of his tone crumbles into ash in his mouth , and suddenly there is a sharpness to his features she'd not seen before . ❝ the tieflings are dead . and we will be too --- soon , if we don't figure a way out of this . ❞ does she not realize they were not the heroes of this little tragic tale being spun by gods and aberrations and devils ? they are just pawns . they have only been just pawns . one wrong move could mean death , yes . but standing still was just as dangerous . so forgive him , for wanting to at least consider a solution . they were running out of time , and though he has no qualms with the emperor , he was also extremely hesitant to rely on an illithid with their lives .

❝ the night of the attack ... ❞ as the drow's red eyes shift away from scrutiny , there is a flicker of vulnerability in him . fear . fear . he was scared . ❝ i felt my bones ... shifting under my skin ... my body ... ❞ if they hadn't gotten there in time ... he felt the change . he felt himself breaking , slipping away . as if he remembers , suddenly , who he is and what he is , vhaalkrin promptly swallows down that disgusting taste of fragility , choking it down with rage . ❝ --- forget it . ❞ she didn't seem at all inclined to even listen to him . there was no point to this .

❝ if their opinion is truly so invaluable to you , ❞ unlike his own , it seems . ❝ perhaps you'd be better off taking them along with you , instead . ❞ the drow stands from the log with a scowl , brushing the ash off his leather pants , eager to storm off somewhere more isolated .

her freckled , bunny nose finds itself crinkling in distaste and fatigue has her wincing at his protest , bare shoulder hiking up towards her ear before a meditative one liner soothes that tense muscle back down to better align with her collarbone . blood is sticky against her throat like spilled wine , staining her cloth armor that is hours overdue for a change into more commonwear , but aurora has been silent , stuck on her haunches , gazing into the busy fire just to watch those thermal fireflies die . no matter , it's just like everything else , destined to perish . ❝ you're speaking of your own secret desires , again , vhaalkrin . ❞ thumb and forefinger pluck at a ginger lock , staring at it with a certain degree of dysmorphia . she's no longer the same young girl belonging to the order of the stone father , following his decree mindlessly . no , these days her mind is ruthlessly preoccupied . why can't she be granted the same ignorance she had in the beginning ? before the perished . before the cruelty . and , to some extent , before vhaal . those red eyes look particularly beady against tired sun . ❝ i'm sure the tieflings would endorse your flippancy —- ❞ after elturel fell into the hells ❝ –- or , perhaps karlach too can see the genius in such an idea —- ❞ after she escaped hellish servitude . thumb and index reach out to the dancing flames , hypnotized to touch until just so she remembers herself , and she snatches her fingers back . ❝ the artifact —- orpheus —- keeps us safe . why don't you ask wyll about his opinion on trusting devils ? ❞