#so yeah dwc

[kveom]

i was tagged by @sevencoloredstar, @squishy-woozi and @wonufied to do this tag game! this was so fun thank you hehe also interesting to see everyone else's choices

i'm not sure who's done this already but tagging: @kimsmingyu @bandzboy @s-lay-ing, @zyx, @ppanghanni and @irlvernon

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[rylandfalkov]

November DWC 2024 Day 1 - Sexy Cowritten with @dicenne

Ryland leaned against the doorway, watching as the other man woke up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. The glamours he placed had all disappeared at this point: No more short blond hair, the tattoos had returned, but the muscles were still all his. As sexy as spending the night with Captain Azeroth had been, Ryland always preferred Dicenne.

“Morning, Cap.”

Dicenne startled a bit and looked over, raising both brows, “You’re still here.” 

Ryland was almost never one to stick around the morning after, but he hadn’t seen his friend much lately thanks to both of them being away on mercenary business in Khaz Algar. “Figured we could get breakfast before I had to get back. My treat?”

The incredulous look was evident even in Dice’s profile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ryland might have been a mooch, but at least he was a very handsome mooch.

Dicenne looked back towards the empty bed, pulling back the rest of his covers and furrowing his brow, “Did–”

“Yeah, gone. Left early. Took a page out of my book.” Ryland flopped back onto the bed and rolled onto his back to look up at the ceiling. “Fun though, huh? Unexpected.”

Dice shook his head with a grin, “I’m not as young as I used to be. …But yes, fun indeed. It’s been a long few months, and being stuck underground for a lot of it was not as thrilling. Interesting places, interesting people, but I’ve missed the sun, and unexpected fun.”

Ryland watched him from the corner of his gaze, pursing his lips together briefly. “How are you? Are you okay? You’re always asking others, but does anyone ask *you* how you’re handling everything?”

Dice glanced over, quietly considering. “Not many. I’m…” He looked towards the window and furrowed his brows. His, and most everyone else’s go-to was to say ‘fine’ despite the circumstances. Ryland always knew when he was lying, and was anybody really fine right now anyways? “Tired. I feel like I’m doing well with the shop, and with the Tarts, and the mercenary crew, but it just feels all too…cyclical sometimes. Never enough times of peace before we just jump right back into it, it’s exhausting. Then with what happened to Dalaran, who is to say that won’t happen somewhere else? Maybe not the same..” He waves a hand, Ryland knew what he meant. “Already living through bad shit happening to your home more than once, then watching it happen to the homes of others, there’s just never a feeling of safety anymore, is there?”

“You’re right, there’s really not. With all that, it’s hard to even want to settle down, start a family…” Ryland gives his friend a soft smile, he knew him well enough at this point to see the signs.

Again, Dice smiled and shook his head. Not because Ryland was incorrect, but because he wasn’t the first one to call him out on that. “There’s never going to be a good time for that, is there? I guess that’s the thing, you just need to keep on living and moving forward in spite it all.”

“Wise words from a man that should take his own advice.” Ryland flashed one of those oh-so-charming smiles. The one you either want to kiss or to slap.

“Easier said than done.” Dice looked down, “What about you, are *you* okay? How are *you* handling everything?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Time for breakfast now?”

@daily-writing-challenge

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 6 - Crack/Positive

Pain struck sharp and clear as Sevlaz's eyes opened again, the sleepy groan coming more as a whisper than what it should have. It didn't sound like his voice at all as he blinked a few times looking into the face of the horned elf.

"Seven for Sevlaz is quite poetic and honestly, my last chance for you," the white bearded creature spoke, though there was more of an edge to his tone than he remembered. Everything felt so off.

The creature leaned forward, close enough to be mere inches from the orc's face as he spoke softly but with the force of a hurricane.

"Hell is repetition, Sevlaz. And I am sorry for making you have to live it over and over again. But I will not put this on you unless you truly want it," the creature spoke oddly and cryptically. "I have offered this to many before you and I will undoubtedly offer it again to many after. But you all will always have a choice. I want you to be a part of this. I feel you will be a great asset to our cause. You trained one of my greatest and I cannot imagine you would fail where they succeeded."

Golden eyes of sand and glass stared into dull red as he continued to speak quickly. "Join me. Help my cause. Help my lord. Hear the Word."

The Word. They made it sound like it was something important or something more than just, well a word. He was so tired. To sleep would be for the best. How much more could he do? And if this thing knew anything about him, why in the world would it think he would do the right thing? Sevlaz was a thief. A pirate. A traitor. A murderer.

A survivor.

"Sevlaz."

The red eyes peered up at him again.

"I don't want to influence you, but I don't want to lie to you either," the creature spoke softly again, this time bearing an edge of sincerity that belied the former edge. "You need to know."

"They live."

@daily-writing-challenge

Noell Gallina flicked a chunk of mango from the orc's shoulder with a mixture of disgust and amusement at the other's misfortune this morning. The blood elf was dressed as always in her patrol uniform bearing the tabard of her station within Orgrimmar but hints of her former past within Silvermoon City with the shield and sword of her homeland. The Horde were not one to forget one's heritage but asked to dwell on the future more so than one's past.

Easier said than done.

But try she must and so she was given this task by Quel'thalas command. When originally given the task it had felt more like exile in to the heart of those who had ruined her own and many other lives. She could still smell the burning vines from those years ago and could still see the soulless blue eyes of the fallen as her world was taken in fire. Orcs, trolls, and the dead. The world was strange.

"So you say you tripped into this stall Master....?" Noell spoke calmly, folding her arms across her chest as she took inventory of the orc.

He wasn't like most orcs. Of course he was green with red eyes as was standard to the dominate race of the Horde, but his manners and dress were more akin to her own people than the usual barbarian garb of his own. His size didn't say much either as he seemed a bit thinner and smaller than the grunts she butted heads with on patrol, but who knows what age really did to an orc judging by the grey hair on his face. And a face it was.

Burn scars crossed a majority of it with matching scars of undoubtedly violent means created an obvious tapestry of violence. The most obvious and gruesome of the bunch though was the missing flap of skin where his upper lip should be leaving behind a crude and unsettling grin of sorts. No one should smile all the time like that. The elf had to stifle the pang of sympathy for him as she waited for his answers.

"Sevlaz," the orc answered eyeing his shoulder where she'd flicked the broken mango from. "And yeah, tripped and rolled hard right into it. Lucky didn't break my leg or arm suppose. Wrist might be another matter."

Noell did her best not to match the roll of his hand to her eyes as she stared at him listening, her eyes moving from him to the damage and back. Never a dull moment in the capital as she looked back over her shoulder to her partner.

Nianani, a Zandalari soldier fresh off the boat, listened much like she was to the fruit vendor. Noell had figured she'd have better luck with the troll than she would. Bad blood had a habit of souring any story. The large woman was patiently listening and asking questions of the hunched Darkspear, red hair flaring and hands flying about to emphasis his losses. Gallina sighed and looked back to Sevlaz who was still muttering about old wounds and sprained bones or something. Clearly not a healer.

Or truthful.

"Alright, alright," Noell broke her arms free to raise them to Sevlaz. "I think you'll be alright but this mess is not going to be alright. I trust you can afford to pay for the damages?"

"Pay?" The orc stopped immediately at the mention of money. Figures.

"Yes, you are responsible for this and the damages will need to be covered."

"How much?"

"That would be between you two," Noell motioned to the vendor and then returned her violet eyes to Sevlaz. "As I said I trust you will cover the damages and remain civil in this dispute."

Steel entered the red eyes of the orc for a few moments, his ugly mouth set in what should have been a grimace only emphasised the lack of lips to the creature. Noell frowned back enough for them both.

Finally, he seemed to have broke and waved it off. "Yeah I got it."

"Good," the elf nodding as she leveled off her authoritative demeanor, which for some reason she had not noticed her hand leaving the pommel of her sword. Bad habits.

Dangerous habits.

"I'll leave you to it then," Noell turned away from Sevlaz, her eyes meeting that of her partners who nodded and spoke a bit more with the Darkspear. Hands were clasped, shoulders touched, and the Loa invoked. Light she wished should connect better here, but that was the life of an elf in the Horde. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend.

Nianani stalked back up to Noell, her heavy sword resting on her shoulder as she looked over the shorter elf toward Sevlaz and back.

"Al'rite?" Her thick Zandalari accent sometimes hard to understand but Noell was learning.

Noell turned to look back as Sevlaz approached the Darkspear vendor, judging by the body language it would be a long conversation. She shook her head.

"For now," she spoke coolly. "I have bad feeling about that one."

"Ya say tha bout a lot of folk."

Noell shook her head, finding she did that a lot for herself as much as others. Bad habits died hard.

Bad feelings lead to dying hard.

[kharrisdawndancer]

DWC Nov '24 - Day 5 - Skill/Captive - Kharris

A bird called.

Yes. Of course. A yellow-feather-footed-flippitbill. 

That meant she was close. She tapped her lip with a thoughtful finger before the satisfaction sized for a nearly four year old puffed up the chest of the little girl. She crept around another tree, looking in every direction like a tiger. Yes. A tiger. Stalking. Her eyes narrowed and she gave a silent snarl to the forest.

They would never find her. She was skilled in the ways of the forest. The Shadows. Ann’da had taught her. He was so good everybody knew that was his name. His Name-Name. The secret kind.

Crunch!!!

Kasari froze! A twig snapped! Had that been her foot, or someone else’s? Her heart beat loudly, thudding against her rib cage. Her sandaled foot eeeeeeased up and a small, broken twig rolled slightly away. That had been clo--AHHHHHHH!

She shrieked and leapt up into the air! Before she could think, her feet were pounding over roots and thin grass as she bolted through the thicket. Something--someone?--had TOUCHED her! Right in the middle of her back!

Silently, too close for her to stop, an arm shot out from behind a tree and scooped her up. She was laughing as the taller elf swagged back into the thicket. “UNCLE CASTIEN! Not fair! YOU TEAMED UP!” Even so, the tickling was fun and she wiggled, flopping out of his arms.

Before he could gasp at the escape of his captive, Kasari blurted out a small cantrip word of power and her fall arrested with the instinctive cast of her Levitate spell. 

Minn’da was coming. She could hear her. Kasari swam-swung in the air until she was hovering right-side-up again. It was the shriek. … But if Uncle Castien was HERE, who had THAT been. Her eyes narrowed and she peered into the dappled forest behind them. But Kharris’s bangled feet were close now and she turned to look at her. She needed to know the _mood_. “That was clever. Levitating so you didn’t cause any noise. Good job, hon.” Minn’da kissed the top of her head and Kasari beamed like the sun. “Yeah. It was.” Never mind she hadn’t done that. Mother didn’t need to know that detail. The adults looked back behind her, and then her father was there. So it had been HIM! His eyebrow quirked up. They spoke that way they did sometimes. Without words. Just looks. And in that look he called her a liar. Kasari grinned impishly at him. Asarel grinned back.

@daily-writing-challenge

mentions: @murmuring-shadows @castien-storm

[noonmutter]

Reparation

DWC August 2024

Day 1: Melee/Tournament

Why he'd chosen to perform at the Tournament of Ages, of all things, particularly for the very first time, Leon was never going to be able to explain. He could come up with a dozen reasons that would've made sense, but at his core, he really had no idea. It had been terrifying for him, and heart-wrenching for him and everyone else involved.

Especially Celedyn.

So much so that Leon had prepared for it well in advance of the show. Keeping the secret to himself had been almost too much in the face of what he was asking Celedyn to do for him, but he'd offered him a dozen outs in their months of practice, and Celedyn had brushed them all aside.

It'd taken a large amount of gold, though he suspected his sister-in-law and their mutual friend had both undercharged him, given what he'd asked them for, and he would've paid whatever they'd asked regardless. Still, both his closest mage friends had also agreed, and they'd also brushed aside any offers of more payment or to take the difficult, time-consuming task to someone else.

They even had it ready for him a week in advance, which was great, but mostly meant he fretted about breaking it the whole time on top of all the other things he was fretting about.

And then immediately after the performance, he was in such a state of babbling idiocy he barely got the words "brought you a present" out for his friend and performance partner and confidante and a dozen other things. It took them both a fair while to walk it off enough to be able to hold a meaningful conversation, but they did eventually find a private corner off in the snow for Leon to try again.

"I, um." He sniffed a bit, rubbing at his nose and then taking off his glove. A very definite ignore-this-noise clearing of the throat preceded him reaching into that gorgeous coat of his. "I mentioned a present."

"I'm not really worried about gifts right now, Leon. Just... a little time with you? I know the festival keeps you busy..." The very idea of being apart from Leon after what they'd spent months building up to caused Celedyn's very soul to wrench, nevermind his heart. He ached for even a few minutes, if that was all he could manage he would take it and treasure it.

"No, this's...heh. Jus' watch," all but tumbled from Leon's mouth as he withdrew a softball-sized grey orb, absolutely covered in hair-thin etchings of runework. He rotated it a few times in his hand, squinting, before he finally realized he was still wearing the stupid eyepatch and huffed a weak laugh before removing it. With that nuisance gone, he was able to find the spots he needed, setting all five fingers on the orb at those specific points.

Celedyn furrowed his brows, looking the orb over. He knew the basics of magic, but nothing heavily advanced. He could only try to puzzle out the order of the runes he knew. About the point he'd worked out what was either a rune for 'time,' or a rune for 'home,' or possibly 'tranquility,' but that one was REALLY overlapped with a bunch of others so it was hard to say, the linework glowed a distinctly arcane purple.

Leon smiled up at him. "You wanted time, yeah?"

"I... Yes. Love, it's beautiful but I'm afraid I'm not... sure what it is?"

Leon held the orb out at arms' length and murmured, "A bit o' borrowed time." A golden line drew itself in the air, down to the snowy ground, and then erupted into the distinct sandy swirl of bronze magic, though the edges of the portal crackled with the distinctive glow of arcane energy.

He held out his free hand to Celedyn, nodding toward the portal with a soft smile. "If any bronzes 'appen t' come sniffin' about... you never saw this. Mm?"

Celedyn didn't hestitate to trust Leon, setting his hand gently in the other's. "I'm very good with keeping secrets."

Stepping through the sands of time would never not be disorienting; that's just how things are when one intentionally violates the most strict--and yet most malleable--of natural orders. The spell within that orb was a blend of both arcane and draconic, though; they were buffeted by billions of tiny granules, but it wasn't an assault, merely an oddly gentle caress not unlike soft hair passing over bare skin. When they set foot on solid ground again, it was in the center of a grand foyer, carpeted in rich royal purple and greeting them with two sweeping, curved stairways up to a loft with no doubt opulent rooms in both directions, and to judge by the echo of their footsteps, in rather large numbers.

Celedyn blinked at the sudden cavernousness of the place, eyes flitting over the opulent halls. “I’m… I’m not sure where we are, darling… when we are?”

Before Leon had the chance to answer, smartly-dressed staff with oddly nondescript faces emerged into the foyer. They looked completely normal, but so aggressively so that it was easy to forget what they looked like as soon as they left line of sight. Their voices were just the same; the request to take Leon's coat and both their shoes were audible, definitely, but it would be impossible later on the place any meaningful attribute to the speaker.

The high elf tried to scour his memory of some great castle that may have existed in that place in the past, but it didn’t fit. “… is this a pocket?”

"Pocket's a good word." Leon murmured a soft thanks to the servant, even though he had no idea who they were. It wouldn't be Leon if he didn't.

"We're still in th' present. Prolly more so than th' people on th' other side o' th' portal, if y' get technical... I'm not sure 'ow it works, fully. But," he took off his gloves and passed them to another servant with another thanks, then looked up at Celedyn again, now down to the simple soft white doublet and formal trousers he'd worn under his costume. "We've eight hours. They've thirty minutes."

It took Celedyn a few moments for the realization to fully sink in, furrowed brow suddenly lifting, his ears perking in tandem. “Eight hours together?”

He was putting the idea of it together, his mind changing tracks as the hope to carve out a few moments with the Gilnean suddenly became a whole swathe of time. Little by little his gloved hands tightened their grip on Leon’s shirt at the thought of it.

"If you kin stomach th' notion." For a wonder, Leon didn't seem the least bit worried that was actually the case, offering him a soft, private little smile and reaching up to set one hand over Celedyn's clinging ones.

"Only you, me, an' this enormous mansion, with its polite an' out o' th' way servants, endless food, enormous baths, an' even more enormous beds."

After a very deliberate pause, Leon added, "You deserve my undivided attention."

“I— Mnh. You’re wonderful to me, kitten--” One arm slipped around Leon to draw him close as the other touched his fingertips below the Gilnean’s jaw, unable to risk even the immensely small possibility that their lips may not meet as he kissed the other man. There wasn’t heat in it, wasn’t seduction, there was instead an intense longing need to connect, as if he would pour himself into Leon if it were possible.

He didn't have a chance to answer before he found himself drowning, and embracing it, he let one hand settle at Celedyn's hip while the other came up to cradle his cheek. Leon met that intensity one for one, closing his eyes and pushing out a fresh set of tears from the sheer relief of it. When they both finally came up for air, it was only just, as Celedyn wasn't the only one that desperately wanted to keep every little touch at once and for all time. "You're wonderful t' me, even when I'm terribly cruel t' you, diva."

He stayed near even as Leon spoke, nosing at his cheekbone, close enough that just the right sound might brush his lips. Celedyn gave a soft groan at the other man’s words, hands sliding up his back as though there was a way to push him closer. “I don’t mean it when I say it, my love. You’ve never felt cruel to me a day in my life. I utterly and completely adore you, the sight of you pulls on my heart and all I want is to be closer.”

That close, Celedyn could easily hear every little hitch and tremor to the man's breath. He was still terribly raw, emotionally and vocally, and he probably would be for ages. Unable to resist, he placed a few short, shallow kisses at the elf's chin, cheek, forehead and neck. "...Fer once, it's easy t' hear tha' an believe it without hesitation. I've never 'eard you call me love this many times b'fore…it still leaves me as warm as the first time." His thumb brushed gently under one puffy eye. "T' me…you're home."

Celedyn tipped his head just enough to kiss the pad of Leon’s thumb, then pressed another to his lips, before closing the miniscule gap once more. “It’s the best word for it. This language doesn’t have enough ways for me to tell you how very much you mean to me, how deeply you hold a place in my heart.” He said the word love again, in Gilnean, in Dwarvish, Darnassian, Zandali, Orcish, Thalassian, pressing kisses into his skin each time. “You mean so much to me, my love, and you were so beautiful tonight… you are so beautiful tonight.”

Leon's mouth twitched up at the corners as Cele traveled the world to profess his love, and he broke with a rough huff of soft laughter when he finished speaking. It sounded both utterly alien and completely natural, somehow, when he answered in Old Gilnean, "Tha gaol agam ort le m' uile anam." With a hard sniff, he nuzzled along Celedyn's cheek, eternally fond of the sensation of his stubble rasping along the elf's smooth skin.

Finally lifting his hand away from Celedyn’s hip, he found one of the other's hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, both reassurance and claim, then lifted it till they both felt the weathered leather strap at his neck. "…whether you ever let me place you 'ere or not…this is where you belong."

Elegant elven fingers rubbed reverently into the sturdy leather that was warm and supple with use. He knew exactly what Leon was saying with the gesture, and his fingers slipped beneath the collar, holding it as he drew the other man into another kiss. “You’ll always hold a place in my heart, Leon. And you know that I mean it. You know I mean every word of it.”

Celedyn was one of precious few people that Leon would even allow to do that with his collar, and it could never be more obvious why than in moments like these. Leon blinked away another set of tears, just a little bit annoyed that they kept coming because it kept ruining his view, and placed a delicate peck on Celedyn's lips to murmur against them. "I want you. T' be with you, t' see you, t' smell you, t' hear you, t' touch you, t' taste you, t' know you utterly, fer as long as th' stars align t' let it be so. Forever an' eternally, you 'ave me."

Those words were everything he wanted to hear, to be desired by someone he loved so deeply, to have his own need mirrored in one that loved him back. He pressed a kiss to the other’s lips and stooped to collect one of Leon’s thighs onto his hip. He wanted their heights matched as he picked the other man up, held him close and carried him to a very conveniently sized console table, as though the space itself were reacting to his wants.

A little surprised but hardly upset by the sudden added height and the placement of Celedyn's hands, Leon immediately brought his arms up to drape from the taller man's neck and settled comfortably into being carried.

Once he was safely sat down, they both moved naturally to press their foreheads together.

“And you have me, my love. I want you to have me and I give myself to you freely, you have my heart until the stars fall from the sky and I carry you beyond them.”

"You are mine... an' I am yours."

“Forever, darling.” Celedyn's voice had the tone of one stating it as fact, no pleading or asking for reassurance; he simply knew the words were true. “On this plane or any other, we belong to each other.” Another kiss, soft and warm, carrying a need without heat, the simple pull to be together with his lover. “You were so beautiful tonight, I am so unspeakably proud of you.”

"I--" Somehow, Leon still found a way to feel embarrassed, even in the sole company of one he knew and trusted completely not to judge him any way except the way he deserved. He went rather ruddy as he tried and failed to pretend he wasn't, both hands sliding up into Celedyn's hair to neither pull nor restrain, merely cling to like a lifeline. "I feel safe with you. Safe enough t'be... t' feel proud o' wot you inspire me t' do."

One elven hand squeezed itself between their bodies, gloves aiding him in slipping in where he wouldn’t allow any space. He pressed his palm to Leon’s heart, feeling his pulse. “The way you bore yourself, let all those people see a part of you and recognize it in themselves. You’re amazing my love, and so utterly brave.”

Leon couldn't help another soft, amused little huff at how silly they were, needing to touch and needing to cling and doing as much as possible to make sure both happened at the same time, even to the point they made it hard to move. He wasn't at all interested in stopping it, but he could still giggle about it in his head.

He indulged his beloved and himself, taking a slow, deep, centering breath that let Celedyn more clearly feel the thud of his heart as he looked into his eyes. His own sparked almost constantly with the tiny, purple arcs of Ardenweald's light across the whites of them, and he utterly refused to blink. "Only because you stood with me."

His own eyes met Leon’s, cyan as a clear sky reflected from the seaside before sinking into the sudden depths of his pupil, all of it carrying the glow of magic, an addiction that he could never truly shake, but lived alongside. “And that makes me all the prouder, that I can bolster you.”

There was a long silence punctuated only by their fluttery, on-the-verge-of-another-sobbing-fit breaths where Leon seemed perfectly content to simply stare into those eyes until time stopped. He might very well have been; it seemed like the sort of thing he'd say in moments like this. But instead, he offered a very timid, "Can I make a potentially disastrous request?"

"Absolutely."

"I want nothin' so badly as t' never see gray hair out o' th' corner o' my eye again."

"Unfortunately," He squeezed his own hand inbetween them to grip Celedyn's, "We'll 'ave t' get up t' get t' th' baths."

A laugh cracked out of him at that, startling even himself at the sudden sound. He smiled and stepped back enough to give Leon room to get down. “That or I simply whisk you away to it. Does this place have hair dye? I suppose it would, it seems to have most else…”

Though it took them a few more minutes of trading flirtations and adulations, they did eventually make it to the baths...

( @daily-writing-challenge @celedyn @shedwyn @janosis hey look guys it's that thing you made for him )

[sirdolraan]

Forward, Ever Forward

(( DWC November 2024 Day 6, Crack/Positive, CW: None; @daily-writing-challenge ))

Lorellai set down the box of herbs, happy to be done with the chore, when she heard a familiar humming coming from deeper in the alchemy shop.

"Bindle, is that you?" she asked, heading down the stairs to find the goblin humming away as he worked at the ornate earthen table.

"Hm? Oh, hey there kiddo, how's tricks?" he replied, not bothering to look up as he coaxed a flame beneath a beaker.

"Oh, I'm doin' fine, all things considered? And you?" she asked, warily. She'd last seen him amidst the ruins, tears running down his face as he gathered up fragments of rubble, yelling to the sky about his investment in Dalaran's real estate, right before Xal'atath blew it up.

"Just peachy kid, peachy and keen even! We're in unknown territory with unknown chemicals and no less than -three-, four if you're quibbly, societies who are hungry for trade and investment! Any goblin worth their salt is drooling at the opportunities to be found out here!"

"So... yer not upset about Dalaran anymore?"

"Oh yeah, that was a -huge- blow to my capital, but it's like that horrifying spider-monster who webbed me up and dragged me away for two weeks of cognitive therapy always said, there's a silver lining to every cloud!" Bindle declared, turning and giving Lorellai a big, toothy, gold-tooth-glinting grin.

"Oh!... You've met Mister Sunflower?"

"Met him? Kid, I'm his star patient, check it out!" Bindle replied, pointing to a gold star prominently displayed on his apron. "I tell you, being kidnapped by a well meaning spider who wants you to be your best self is quite the path to self-actualization! Look out world, Bindle is back in the saddle!"

Lorellai blinked, smiled, and excused herself, hurrying out into the open air. Maybe she should head down and check on Mr. Sunflower's other patients, just to be safe.

[straightouttatheashes]

DAY 1 - FLIRT

DWC 2024 Day 1 - Flirt A little continuation from This Story

---

She’d seen him again a few times since that encounter on the beach, and she could have sworn she knew he’d caught her eye the moment that smirk appeared on his face. Phe never gave him the chance to come over and gloat about it though - she always disappeared beforehand. Though the longer she stayed around the Bay, the harder it did become to avoid him. Not that she was avoiding him out of embarrassment to what they did. No, that had been really fun. It was more annoyance that he’d stolen right out from under her nose - using her in the process. …Although, that had been on her, hadn’t it? There was a severe lapse in judgement, not that she was complaining..sort of. The sex had been great, but the fact she had to ghost her employer or be shamed to hell? Not so great. “God you’re obvious.” He’d come up behind her as she sat in the tavern, and she felt herself roll her eyes so hard they may as well have gone into another dimension. “Fuck you want?” “Damn, touchy, huh? You seem tense. I could help with that…” The half-elf joined her at the table and she was surprised he didn’t keep his distance. What was he playing at? “Yeah, I bet you could.” A frown and she had to almost down half her bottle to stop herself from biting back further. He made a joke about her gag reflex, and she stared at him for a moment. “I should punch that smirk off your face.” “Sure, if it’d make you feel better. I know I’d feel pretty damn good.” Pheonix wasn’t sure if he was being serious about that or not. --

Barry. That was his name. She should have expected that somehow, she’d have another night with him. Pheonix wasn’t even sure how she got there, but once again she was left feeling damn satisfied…and at least he hadn’t stolen anything from her. That she could immediately see, anyway. She’d find out later that her gold pouch was a little emptier than it should have been….and when the moment he had swooped in to charm the shopkeep and save her ass from having guards called on her. He sat beside her on the docks with a grin, eyeing her as she stared out at the ocean. “...Thanks.” Barry laughed and shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, you seemed like you needed it.” “Wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for you.” “Damn, that’s a pretty big accusation out of nowhere. Look around, you’re in a town of pirates.”She knew it was him. He knew it too. “Okay, smartass.”

The pause before she had spoken had let him know that Pheonix had more to say, but she held herself back. A knowing smirk (as always), and he rested back on his hands.

“You must be really into my dick if you’re hanging around waiting to run into me.” “What?” Pheonix shot him an incredulous look. “That’s not the fucking reason I’m here what -” His brow raised, and she realized he’d caught her out. “I mean…” “You’ve been here awhile. What’s your deal? Belong to a crew?” “...Not really?” She mulled over that one for a moment. Best she was doing was jumping between whoever could pay her for whatever reason. “Just doing jobs.” “Like looking for treasure? And losing it?” “Shut the fuck up.”

He laughed and nudged her, as if they were best buddies all of a sudden. Pheonix knew he was doing it to rile her up. “You gonna leave at all?” “I dunno. Maybe.” She could at any time. She just didn’t really have anywhere to go at the moment, nor a set plan. “Let me know when you do.” “Why?” “So I can see that ass again one last time.” A shove had him almost fall into the water, but Pheonix laughed despite herself. -- She’d grinned at him as she stood over him - having taken him to the floor after catching him stealing from her again. But now, it felt as if they were just playing. Rough-housing. It was like a game to them, and the thrill that got them both off. Of course, Barry was actually stealing from her, but she didn’t have much so there weren’t many things she really missed if he took them for himself to sell. She’d always see a bit of that coin back anyway later at the bar or something. Pheonix wasn’t sure what was going on, but they’d happened to take a few jobs together, flirts exchanged between them the entire time. Kisses stolen all over Booty Bay. A regular room they’d taunt each other up to in the tavern. A few times she caught the boat with him back to Ratchet, and she’d lose him for a bit while she carried out her own agenda. But by the time she returned to the boat, there he was. Pheonix knew it wouldn’t last. Maybe she’d never see the guy again. It didn’t stop her from enjoying every single encounter until then, though.

@disruptanddisturb for mentions @daily-writing-challenge

[just-onyx]

DWC Feb 2024 - Day 2 - Suppress/Pastle -Onyx/Ziorea

The streets of Dalaran, always pristine clean from the magical caretakers of the city.  Leather boots meant for sneaking nearly soundless on them as Onyx was jogged toward a goal.  She must have ran out of the magical circle that held all of Braedyn’s coffee cups.  One moment it was in her hand a steaming cup of joe, the next *poof* she caught herself holding nothing but air.  

Most likely full cup returned to the kitchen to be cleaned and prep for next week.   Mid sprint Onyx stood there and cursed pretty sailor words at herself.  So much for revenge on her last deal in the sewers. Her plan had been marvelous, at least in her own eyes. 

She could go down there and give  him a hefty chewing out.  Try to make business poor for him this week.   That is the reason she come to Dalaran today.  Still on her mission, Onyx made her way toward the infamous staircase which crossed from shiny Dalaran to the flith of the city.  

Blocking her way stood an angel in pastel with bright pink highlights in her hair.  As an artist of course Onyx had to take in a moment to study the tone arms, legs, and stomach that peek through the skimpy little outfit the girlie before her wore.  

“You are going to want to change before going down there, unless you plan on selling yourself.”  Onyx blurted out.  “Oh, um yeah no.”  Ziorea blushed turning to face the darker skin half- elf.  “I was wondering where that smell was coming from.  ARE you going down there?”  

“Of course, they have the best booze in the city.  Do you need an escort down there?”  Emerald eyes blinked at woman before her.  Onyx still trying to figure out the why and who. 

Ziorea smoothed her hands down the front of her outfit, the action suppressed all emotions and thoughts inside.  “No, thank you.” She smiled at Onyx.  “Have a good day.”  

A baffled Onyx simply nodded and made her way past the taller lady. 

Mentions @kharrisdawndancer (Braedyn) and @ziorea

@daily-writing-challenge

[lorellaishc]

A New Journey

(( DWC February 2024 Day 7, Rumour/Discovery, CW: none, @daily-writing-challenge ))

In the weeks and months that followed the blooming of Amirdrassil, much of the dragonscale expedition found itself winding down. The Dragon Isles was secure and mostly safe now, and while there would doubtless be archaeological efforts for years to come, the expedition had accomplished most of its goals, and that meant it was time for many to return home.

Or, in some cases, seek other new experiences.

Lorellai was up like a flash when the captain's call echoed down into the ship where she and her team had been cooped up for weeks. Knowing they were close washed all that travel fatigue away though, as she and the others gathered their things and climbed up on deck. Ghorren was already up there, holding the rigging and wearing the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face. He turned as they all came topside.

"Well friends, this is it! Welcome, to Zandalar!" Ghorren exclaimed, dramatically motioning to the great city that rose above them to the north.

"Now remember, stay with the group, and do not wander away from the port quarter. War might be over but the laws are still clear about where non-horde citizens are and aren't allowed to be here in Dazar'alor."

"We're still going to get to visit your family restaurant though, right? You said that was in the zocalo?" Lorellai asked, adjusting her pack and all but vibrating with excitement.

"No such luck, but you're getting the next best thing, my sister will be bringing us a whole meal to share tonight." Ghorren replied, eagerly stepping off the ship onto the docks. "Ah, it is good to be home!"

"And yet you are always in such a hurry to leave!" a woman's voice called out, eliciting a bark of laughter from the troll. Pushing through the crowd were three troll women, each distinctively dressed. The eldest of them still had her apron on over a simple dress, and hugged Ghorren even as she scolded him. "Never willing to just stay and work for a living like the rest of us."

"Ah, you know me sister, I like the good things in life, and foreign gold spends well!" he laughed, hugging her back before turning his gaze to the others. "Anwé! Qirra! My beautiful daughters!" he exclaimed, excitedly running over to hug the others.

The younger laughed as her father embraced her, her rainbow colored mohawk standing out next to her very somberly dressed and tattooed older sister. "Welcome home, Papa!"

"Yes, welcome home, Father," the older of the two echoed. She held herself aloof and proper, her robes and skeletal face paint serving to hide her mood. Lorellai couldn't help but note how she smiled as Ghorren pulled her into a hug, nudging Pinapple with a smile of her own.

Ghorren couldn't seem to stop chuckling in joy. "My daughters, please, meet my friends from the dragon isles!

-----------

Hours later, after the introductions, the tour of the docks, and the incredible dinner, the team and Ghorren's family lounged in their rented space. Lorellai looked over at the closed lavatory door. "Think Edmund's gonna be alright?"

Anwé smirked at the dwarf. "I think he has discovered his limit for Zandalari spices. Auntie -did- warn him about it."

"Yeah, but then your dad dared him, so that was a wasted warning."

"Oh come now, he's a big strong man, should be able to handle his spice!" Ghorren laughed, earning a smack from Ulabi.

"Honestly, bringing outsiders here and feeding them the food I make special for you, you'd think you wanted to start a war. And now he's wasting all my hard work."

"Forgive me sister, it was just a joke between friends!" Ghorren smiled. "So friends, I know you're going to be exploring the city tomorrow, but what's next when you leave here?"

"Oh, we got that all planned out, Ghorren." Lorellai replied, beaming. "When we leave here, we'll be on a ship bound for Pandaria. Rumor has it the lorekeepers there have found an untouched vault and need experienced delvers to help them investigate it!"

"Tch, no rest for you youngin's, hm?"

"There's always room for another, Ghorren!" Lorellai replied, all smiles.

Ghorren shook his head, and took a long sip from his drink. "Some other time, I think I've earned some well deserved rest and family time."

"Papa, you know Auntie's not going to let you rest" Qirra said, giggling. "She's going to have you in the kitchen by the end of the week!"

"Tch, we'll see. But that's then, this is now. And for now, I'm going to get some sleep, because I know none of you are going to permit me a moment's rest during tomorrow's trip around the city."

"Until tomorrow!" Lorellai said, and returned to her maps. There was a whole world to explore, and she suspected she'd never be satisfied staying home for long ever again.

[commanderbragh]

Served

DWC May 2024, Day 4: Drama

The laughter at the table died down with more than one person wiping tears from their eyes. Banagan shook his head and then looked around at everyone’s empty mugs. Carefully, he slid his chair back and stood up.

“I’ll get us another pitcher.”

“Make it two, lad,” Lorellai said with a grin. 

“Certainly,” the paladin responded with a nod. As he made his way towards the bar, he heard several voices getting louder from a nearby table. Looking over, he saw several men from his previous assignment laughing loudly. One of the waitresses was standing there holding her empty tray, trying to leave the group, but her way was blocked. One of the men had his leg stretched out with his foot on the side of one of his comrade’s seat, keeping her pinned next to the table. The man turned his head and Banny frowned.

“Jek,” he muttered. Before he realized it, he was walking towards their table. 

“Sir, I really need to get back to work.”

“No you don’t, honey. There’s plenty of business here for you.”

“Sir, please.”

Before Jek could respond, he suddenly found himself sliding out of his chair and landing on the floor. Standing over him while holding his foot in the air, Banagan shot him a look before letting go of his ankle and turning towards the waitress.

“Miss, I think they need you at the bar.”

“Excuse me,” she said quietly as she quickly stepped away and disappeared into the crowd.

“Dammit!” Jek yelled as he struggled to get up. His friends quickly stood and turned to face the paladin. “You got a death wish, Larethian?”

“No,” Banagan replied, looking calmly back at the red-faced warrior. “She was needed elsewhere.”

“You really want a beating?”

“No, I don’t think I would.”

“Not much you could do to stop us,” Jek spat out, stepping closer to the paladin.

“Perhaps. But if this is going to take long, let me go let my friends know. They’re expecting me to bring back drinks and I’d want to let them know to go get their own.” Banny pointed his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing behind him.

Jek and his friends looked past Banagan. Sitting at the table, they saw a female dwarf take the rifle that had been leaning against the table and laid it across her lap, her hand resting near the trigger. She cocked her head to the side a little and stared directly at him. He noticed that the rest of the table was watching them as well.

“You’re lucky this time, Larethian.”

“No more so than usual.”

“Spoiled, rich kid from Stormwind. Acting like you’re everyone’s favorite. Spending daddy’s money to buy his way here to a cushy job.”

“Boy do you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Got daddy to buy that armor for you, did ya’? Never did anything to earn it.”

“Did more than you, I bet,” Banny said with a smile. But there was steel in his eyes, and even Jek noticed it and his bravado faltered briefly.

“One day, your friends won’t be there.”

“Sure. And we both know how you guys like to jump someone from behind.”

“What did you say?”

“Not surprising that you don’t recognize truth when it’s spoken.”

“Watch your mouth, boy.” 

“Or what, Jek?” This time, Banny took a step closer and caused Jek to move back. Banny could hear the sound of more chairs scraping against the floor. He stared at the warrior and waited. After a few moments of nothing happening, Banagan let out a snort. “What I thought. Not so certain when the odds are even. When you have to look them in the eye.”

“They won’t always be there,” Jek said through gritted teeth. “You’ll get yours.”

“Yeah, you said that. Let me know when you want to test that theory.” Banagan took a step back from the group and rested his hand on the haft of the mace hanging from his belt.

Jek looked down at the paladin’s weapon and sneered. “Come on,” he spat out. The warrior turned and pushed his way past the table and through the crowd. The others were caught off guard, but soon followed after him.

Banagan shook his head and watched them exit before turning and going over to the bar. A few minutes later, he was carrying three pitchers back to his friends.

“What’s all that drama about?” the young dwarf asked as she rested her rifle back against the table.

“Remember those trouble makers I was talking about from my old troop? From before I joined up with you guys?”

“That them?” 

“Yeah. In all their glory.”

“They look like a fun bunch. Expecting more trouble from ‘em?”

“Probably.”

“Want me to sick Stroganoff on ‘em?”

“Maybe,” Banny answered with another chuckle. “Let’s keep that as Plan C.”

“Got other ideas?”

“Just maybe.”

“Gonna share?”

Banagan grinned and leaned closer to Lorellai.

@daily-writing-challenge

[thecozykirin]

DWC Day 3 - Favorite

@daily-writing-challenge

( Today will be a double story day!  But it occurred to me that I do not write many moments between Soo-ha and Kimiko and I wanted to rectify that! )

----------

It was good to get out.

The evening air brought a wave of relief as it smoothed over the fur on Soo-ha's face, helping to settle the lingering nausea that lurked within her belly like a squirming fish.

It had been several weeks since the birth, and it took everything she had to convince her mate that she and their newborn were not going to shatter into glass the moment he take his eyes off them. Yasashi relented under the condition that she remain in the caravan while he was out, but he did not say she had to stay in the caravan all day!

With Suzu under the watchful gaze of Wuroda, the elderly Tauren more than happy to give the small Pandaren a breather, Soo-ha set out and walked the perimeter of the camp, giving a berth of a few feet between herself and the wagons so she had space but home was always in sight. 

As Soo-ha walked, her mind began to wander to her eldest, ever since Suzu had arrived she hadn't had a proper moment with Kimiko. This brought a light frown to her face, as she could seldom recall a moment before where her daughter was not hanging off her skirt and bombarding her with every question that filled her little head for that day. Soo-ha missed those moments, a soft exhale leaving her as she lifted her muzzle to the air and took in the surrounding scents.

Perhaps, it was time to rectify that.

The Pandaren followed the scent of her daughter, one that had become ingrained since the day she was born that now consisted of whatever patch of earth she dragged herself through that day. Usually, she was always out and about, but more often than not she seemed to seclude herself to the branches of the nearby trees.

Soo-ha could see her huddled against the side of the trunk from her perch on the base of a thick looking branch and with a chuff to let her daughter know she was there, Soo-ha began to climb.

The appearance of her mother seemed to spook the cub momentarily, her eyes widening for a moment before she released a weak little chuff in response, almost a sniff as she returned her gaze to the camp.

'You picked a nice spot.' Soo-ha smiled as she came to sit next to her. 'Following in your father's steps, I see!'

Kimiko's eyes darted to Soo-ha's digits, nodding. "Someone has to while Baba is in town. He didn't let me go with him this time though."

Soo-ha blinked. 'Ah? Why not?'

Kimiko's bottom lip pursed out slightly in a pout. "Cause we've never been here before and he told me it's not safe. I don't see what the big deal is though, a town is a town!"

A low rumble sounded from the back of Soo-ha's throat, and she scooted a bit closer to her daughter. 'You know how he is. Once he comes back, he'll realize it's not so bad and let you come with him the next time.'

Kimiko only made a noise in the back of her throat in response.

Soo-ha's expression fell at the curt response, and she chuffed. 'You haven't been staying near the wagon lately...'

Kimiko shrugged weakly. "I don't wanna bother you."

'Bother me?' Soo-ha blinked.

"Well, yeah!" Kimiko scoffed. "You have the...baby now."

The baby

Ah. Soo-ha's ears perked slightly from the little brainblast as she started to connect the dots. 'Well, yes...but that doesn't mean I don't want you around, Kimiko. It gets lonely without you.'

Kimiko blinked, and her head lifted, staring at her mother wearily out of her peripheries. "It...does?"

Soo-ha let out a wheezing chuckle, the noise akin to a broken squeaky toy. 'Your sister is not much conversation, I'm afraid...and even then, just because you have a little sister now doesn't mean you were pushed from my heart.'

"It doesn't?" Kimiko seemed to perk up even more now, pausing. "But...you and baba have been so busy...."

With an amused snort, Soo-ha gently bumped herself against her daughter. 'As we were when you were born.' Her eyes then softened. 'I apologize if that has made you feel lesser in our eyes.'

"So I'm still the favorite?"

The question took Soo-ha aback for a moment, her mouth gaping slightly, before with another wheezing chuckle her lips formed into a wide smile. 'You are no different than you were before.'

"Close enough!" Kimiko bunted her head against her mother with a warm rumble, sinking into her arms as Soo-ha wrapped her up in a warm embrace.

'...And if your father asks.' She pulled herself away far enough so Kimiko could see her signing. 'We had this conversation on the ground.'

"Oh, right!" Kimiko's ears perked. "Aren't you still supposed to be in the wagon, mama?"

'He did not specify for the entirety of the day.' Soo-ha then inhaled slowly through her teeth, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 'But...for his sake, let’s leave out the tree, mh?'

[dicenne]

November DWC Day 7 - Dream

No photograph nor verbal description of the Emerald Dream could ever do it justice, this was something everyone needed to see first hand for themselves. Dicenne had a good excuse to do so, as with other campaigns he would go and offer his blacksmithing services to help with repairs for broken weapons and armor. He had brought his own armor and weapons too, just in case.

He had been an on and off member of Talonoa’s mercenary crew for years now. After having spent so much time in the military, it was difficult to completely give up that lifestyle, and a mercenary crew suited him much better. The majority of the group were ex-military themselves, so it operated in a similar, albeit less strict manner of what he was already accustomed to.

Dicenne had set up his camp with them, focusing first on their repairs and then wandering about the other mercenary units to see if anyone needed his services. Despite never asking for gold, doing this had become quite the profitable endeavor. Mercenaries were great about tipping, and often followed up post-campaign with visits to his shop to get more repairs or new weapons.

One late evening, he found himself lounging near the communal fire with eyes focused upwards on Amirdrassil herself. She was a thing of beauty for certain, and born of the souls from her predecessor. A fresh start for the Kaldorei. It made him wonder if maybe the Sin’dorei should have done the same with their own city; while not all of Silvermoon had been destroyed by the Scourge, the memories that clung onto that place were difficult to move past at times.

His gaze fell onto the only remaining member of the crew still up and looking towards Amirdrassil with a thousand-yard stare. With the way the fire and shadows highlighted the half-Kaldorei’s angular jaw and shape of his nose, it was easy to see the resemblance to the young man’s father. He was never actually told that Garren was Xylaes’s son, but the observant could easily figure it out.

“You were there, right?”

Garren’s eyes drifted down to look at Dicenne, giving a slow nod of his head. There was no need to question what ‘there’ meant in this situation, it was obvious he was speaking of Teldrassil.

“I’m sorry for what you had to go through. How are you, are you doing okay here?”

Garren shrugged out of habit, but eventually spoke as his gaze drifted skywards once more. “I’m afraid of what will happen to us if we can’t save the tree.”

Dicenne nodded in agreement, “Me too, but I have faith. Practically the entire world wants, no needs, to see this all succeed, and I think we will.”

“How can you be so optimistic?” 

It was Dice’s turn to shrug. “Better than the alternative options, yeah? It’s not a belief that things will automatically get better, it’s a conviction that we can make things better.”

Garren offered a small smile in response, looking up once more. “My grandparents are a part of this. They died in Teldrassil, and now they’re here. I feel like I’m meant to be here too, with them. Together again.”

A part of Dice wondered if he spoke like this with Xylaes. Probably not. In a way, he almost felt guilty. “I’m sure they are very proud of you for being here and helping. You should be proud of yourself too, this is a huge moment in history.” 

The words clearly resonated with Garren, and shortly after the young elf excused himself for the evening, leaving Dicenne alone by the fire. In all honesty, the words had resonated with himself as well. He was never great at staying on the sidelines when he knew his friends could use his help. Maybe it was time he strapped his armor back on and threw himself into the fray.

@daily-writing-challenge @talonoa @xylaes @garrennorassin

[aerdendios]

NOVEMBER DWC DAY 7 - DREAM

Sleeping within the Emerald Dream was always interesting, and while they had been warned about what would happen, there was really no way to actually prepare any of them for this out-of-body experience. The first night was met with bewildered and frightened looks as the spirit forms of the soldiers peered down at their own sleeping bodies. Many abruptly woke up, and had difficulties going back to sleep for the first few nights, others refused to sleep at all within the Dream and had set up camp immediately outside of the portal.

Yet for some peculiar reason, Aerden had felt perfectly at ease. It felt normal and natural for him, as if he had done this many times prior but simply couldn’t recall. It was rather thrilling, being able to wander about while still getting the rest that his body desperately needed. Over time, it became easier for the others as well, and they would explore the immediate area in small groups and play with the local wildlife. ‘Sleeping’ had become an absolute joy.

“Hey, have you seen the cave here?” Aerden pointed towards the side of a steep hill.

“What do you mean a cave? That’s a hill.” Matir squinted at his friend, ruffling a hand through his mop of blond hair.

“Well..yeah, but there’s a cave in there. You can just walk through the wall..”

“What? You can walk through the wall?”

Aerden gave Matir a boggled look before demonstrating just that. He stepped through the wall, and then stepped back out of the wall. “See?”

Matir hummed before heading towards the side of the hill, the exact same spot where Aerden had passed through and proceeded to walk….directly into the side of the hill with a *WHUMP*. He had such confidence in his strides that the man practically bounced off the dirt wall and landed on his ass. He blinked a few times in surprise, “The fuck, Hale. What kind of trick was that?” 

Aerden’s brow pinched together in confusion, “No..what? You can just..walk through things?”

“....NO! …Wait…are you telling me you CAN walk through things?”

He was so perplexed. “Yeah, I thought that like…we could do anything cause we’re…” He gestured down to his astral projection. “Walk through things, run faster, fly.”

“YOU CAN FLY?!”

“...Can’t everyone??”

“NO! It’s just like walking around in everyday life. What kinda fuckin’ magic you got?”

Aerden’s lips parted to say something, but nothing came out. Could nobody else really do that? Surely some of them could, or someone could. He had seen some others flying around, but no one he knew. “I…I don’t know? Sorry, Mat, I didn’t know.”

Matir stood and brushed himself off, giving Aerden a friendly slap on his back, “You surprise me every day, dude. Come on, it’s almost time to wake up.”

He followed his friend back to camp in befuddled silence.  What was wrong with him?  Or…right with him?  He didn’t even know what to think anymore.

@daily-writing-challenge

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 2 - Deceit/Eternal

The flames are getting closer and the wood under him is getting softer as he lays still. Why was he dead yet? Does it really take this long to bleed out? He should know. He's watched enough people do it. He shouldn't be any different.

Penance. That's what Cal would call it. Stupid humie priest. Poor stupid humie priest. The kid didn't deserve that.

None of them did.

Well maybe he did.

He'd done enough bad to merit this slow end. There was no justifying swift knives or turned screws. It had been just business and his business had always been bad. From the old home to the new homes and beyond. He should have listened to Jae. Or Beil.

Or Elras.

The smoke was growing thicker as his fingers brushed against the black floorboards, the bits of wood sloughing off like clay. The sticky blood was just like the soot on his fingertips. Black. Inky. Awful. Moving.

His vision blinked slowly as he looked at the fingers and the shifting sands between.

Sand?

@daily-writing-challenge

Durotar.

It'd been dream when he'd first heard about it and now it was a practically a metropolis and monument to the old ways of his people. Sev hated it so much.

He should be grateful for a safe haven for his kind, a place to grow and seek out the old ways in an act of redemption. A pretty fairy tale for those who'd never grown up in the pig farms or scrapping iron from the mountains or being fed to a gronn for fun. No one talked about the peons, the dirty secret of the 'Horde'. Old or new, shit still rolled down hill and there they'd be shoveling it.

Never be slaves again? Fuck that.

Sevlaz walked the desert streets of the city, the red dirt stamped hard from the countless feet that crossed the city over and over. His red eyes scanning the crowd here and there, noting the red armored grunts thumping their chests. He offered a thump of his own as he walked by, doing his best to strike a noble face.

"For the Horde, brother," the orc grunt growled as he stood a bit straighter. Sev just gave another thump, doing his best not to look the soldier in the eye. It made his insides twist to bad memories that were souring his good day faster than he wanted. Deceit was appropriate for the enemy, it was even more necessary in the face of your 'family'.

A cart would roll by with some deaders driving it, the smell of dead herbs and roses trailing them as they gave the glowering dim stare to those that crossed. The survivor was happy to step aside to let them pass. The grey skinned creature would nod indifferently to Sev before they urged the kodo on down the row toward the Valley. Best to give it extra breadth, the last thing he needed was to step in a surprise from the beast. Least he hoped it was from the pack animal.

Propping himself up against the stone wall a moment, his leg would lift to give his knee a short respite as he scanned the crowd wandering the streets tonight. Orcs. Tauren. Trolls. Dead. It made sense for those four groups to be on the streets of the city as he recalled from back in the day. Hell even the goblins as much as people might frown at their motives still tolerated their place among the Horde. Sev was fairly grateful to them for the ability just to walk the streets, maybe he should take trip down to Rachet or even Gadgetzen. Long one, but what else did he have going for him? Coren probably be glad to see him doing something other than wallowing about the city.

Best to stick it out here. No more heroes.

Grunting a chortle at his own joke, Sev would ease back onto his leg and start walking again. It didn't bother him as much with the brace, but it still was taking quite a bit of getting used to. Finnick had said it would take practice and patience. He wished he was more abundant in either of those things. The eternal struggle of the thief.

An angry gurgle broke his reverie.

"Yeah yeah," as he reached down to rub at his gut before stalking up the hill. The cacophony of the market of the Valley of Strength was like a low rumbling storm of voices. Voices that he could sometimes hardly believe were here in the desert kingdom. Dwarves and elves fighting alongside the orcs was a very strange turn of events.

His ugly ruined face would turn to follow a pair of lightly armored elven women walk by as they spoke with their colorful and musical voices. Red curls, bright green and blue eyes with the gait of a panther and the soft curves to match. He offered a slight tip of his head as they walked by, neither giving him much notice. He watched them disappear among the crowd and shook his head with the stretched smile on his face.

Strange but pleasant sights.

"Hey there half grin!" A piping voice broke him of his stare as he turned toward the mass of merchants, stalls, and vendors that congregated within the mighty valley. He'd recognize it, but wasn't sure how happy he'd be to see the owner again.

With a snort Sev would cross the final stretch into the Valley of Strength and sidle up to the familiar food cart of his new acquaintance.

Friend was too strong a word for Erik.

[churchobones]

DWC Day 3

<<PREV || NEXT>>

“You’re pullin’ my leg!” Thilonus balked.  “Zelion Mournvalor is a necromancer?” “Yeah, and a roight prick.” “So how did you get out alive?”  Thil’s brows furrowed, casting a careworn shadow.  “You and my sister?” “Well, she needed me.”

The Rowanwood scabbard clattered as its tip was dragged through an inky river of blood and pitch, painting the floor like a quill. The commander raised it high above his head, silhouetted by Elune’s watchful eye.

Cold, bony digits of eleven dead men sank into the worgen’s hide, digging Cursed trenches through ashen fur.

Over the stench of death permeating the room, he caught her scent; sharp like a struck match.

Bruce snarled, eyes ignited and teeth flashing in the dark.

The dulled blade sang through the frost-bitten air, caught on the golden breastplate of another soldier.

Bruce thrust his weight forward until the sheath shattered, impaling the corpse, then pinned both under a massive paw. He lunged for the commander’s throat, filling his mouth with the vertebrae exposed between helm and breastplate.

The commander rattled, his head tore free from his shoulders with an echoing crunch.

With claws still digging into his hide like ticks, Bruce leapt through the nearest stained glass window.

"Zelion was takin’ the hallways. There's a shorter path… if you're a good climber.”

Platinum blonde hair clung to Caelia’s sweat soaked forehead. Like a pianist whose instrument was armed with a bomb triggered by a single misstroke, her fingers hovered above Kallarel’s chest, just above the Mournstone planted there, a different school of magic summoned to each digit.

“Once I begin, the process cannot be stopped,” Caelia had explained as Kallarel lay comfortably on the bed.

“That’s why I’m so expensive!  Everything must be maintained perfectly. One mistake and you and I both will have our souls torn asunder in the most horrible, painful fashion imaginable. Like-- have you ever seen someone take the most gorgeous, vibrant, bright yellow dress and then pair it with purple shoes? Yeah, it will be like that. Except we actually will die. Like, literally.”

And thus, when clawed fingers slid the window open with a squeal, Caelia swore. She swore again as a bloodied monster poured itself upon the floor, and a third time (this time with a yelp) as the creature cracked and melted into a very naked man.

"What the fuck--" she began when Bruce interrupted her.

"Miss Mourningvale," he breathed, diving to the bedside. Kneeling beside her, he looked like hell: a pallid complexion only made dark veins crawling along his jaw and over the left side of his cheek that much more obvious. Even his hair had lost its luster. Only his eyes remained acute and thoughtful as ever.

“I took her hand in mine–”

"Zelion is here," Bruce told her, knitting his fingers with hers. His digits sapped at her warmth. It was soon apparent why; necrotic magic pulsed in his chest, dispersing ever since Zelion's twisting grasp.

"Sir, you need to--” Caelia started.

"I'll hold him off," he said with easy confidence, "but I might not make it back to you. Just in case, there's some… some things I want to tell you."

“There wasn't time to hesitate.”

“Miss Mourningvale, don't move or–!”

“You–” Kallarel snapped tersely at Caelia.  “--focus.”

“And you…” It was breathed quietly to Bruce as she squeezed his fingers.  “Go on.”

“I told her all I’d been wanting to tell her–”

"Great," Caelia groaned, "I've always wanted to be part of a deathbed love confession in a cheesy romance novel!"

He squeezed her fingers in return, a soft smile gracing chapped lips. His eyes flicked down her form. "I promised myself the first time I saw you on a nice bed like this, I'd ravage you."

"Oh for fuck's sake--!" Caelia was promptly cut off by a ssh! hissed through Kallarel’s teeth, sharp enough to slit a throat.

Bruce brought her hand to his lips, just close enough that he could feel the warmth of her there. "If I don't make it back to you, then I'm sorry I wasn't in your life longer. I wish we could have been... Well, I wish we could have been together." 

“Maybe in the next life,” Kallarel wept.

The next words came out more clumsily. "I have a daughter," he confessed. "Elizabeth Hawkins. Lizzie. In Stormwind. If you ever want to... To check up on her. For me."

“Of course.”

"And..." The hand not tangled in hers came up to cup her cheek. There wasn't time, but he hesitated anyway.  Only for a moment, as he drank in her features. 

“And, finally–"

He pressed his lips to hers, softly.

It wasn't with the ravenous need of a beast nor the claim of a lover; it was mournful, vulnerable, and needy-- like he never wanted it to end.

He didn't have the strength to break it until they were both breathless. But then, when neither of them could go on, it came to an end as all things do. He drew back and admired her. "Don't forget me," he murmured.

With a bittersweet smirk, Kallarel chided: “How could I?”

Even if she was, possibly, just a satyr in a dead slut's skin, it hardly seemed relevant now.  He stole another brief kiss before disappearing from the bedside.

He paused by the door to pilfer a cigarette from her bag, which he lit with a click of her lighter, returned haphazardly before slipping out into the hallway to wait.

@daily-writing-challenge

[noonmutter]

May 2024 DWC Masterlist

Day 1: Mysterious/Appearance

Day 2: Agony/Embrace

Day 3: Shame/Favorite

Day 4: Drama/Celebration

In which Terry and Shedwyn engage in politics.

Another short list where I didn't quite finish the entire week, but the point is that I wrote, not how much, yeah? So here we are.

I may come back and try to tack on some more or finish out the list for the week eventually, but as it's been a very draining month thus far, I won't promise anything.

As always, if you want to give it a go (or just read other entries), check out the list on @daily-writing-challenge and do your own! It's not limited to a specific week, or even a specific fandom. Whatever gives you an excuse to make something!