#sprin'torel campaign

[theinvulnerabletide]

Whisper was a performer. Had been for about seven years of her life, and usually it showed in the way she cast. Her lilting Abyssal incantations started out hushed, growing ever louder, crescendoing to the last word when she released her power into the world. Her motions were fluid and attention grabbing, twirling and commanding hand gestures, slamming the end of her staff on the ground. She was the kind of woman who made her own stage wherever she went.

Today, she didn’t care about her audience. She screamed each spell, the words echoing off of the building’s high ceiling. Each gesture was terse and abrupt and brutal, a close of a fist to create a Maelstrom in the water, a slash through the air to create lightning, a slam of her staff to send a Tidal Wave slamming across the water. She was dimly aware that people were staring at her. People always stared at her. But for once, she didn’t care what they were seeing. She didn’t care what they thought, she didn’t care how they viewed her, if those murmurings were awe or fear or annoyance.

All this power. Enough that she could destroy this building if she wasn’t carefully keeping it to the pool, enough that she could lay waste to a small army all by herself. She’d swept herself and Isao and Thia halfway around the world in an instant with pinpoint accuracy. And yet she couldn’t bring Oriana back.

What use was power if you couldn’t use it for the important things?

She let out another Tidal Wave with a scream, only for nothing to happen. Her temples were throbbing, and a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. She had nothing left in the reservoir. Fuck.

Her hands trembled as she wrapped them around her staff and pushed herself away from the pool, aware of all the eyes on her. Good. Let them stare.

She wasn’t powerful enough to bend reality to her will yet? Then she’d get stronger. She’d burn herself out every day, practicing like her mother had always wanted her to, until she didn’t have enough left in her at the end of the day to fill a bathtub. She’d spend hours in the library, learning and growing herself, until every kind of magic came naturally.

Then she’d break the world open. Again and again, until Oriana drew breath and was there to play baroness and she learned how to take care of her son properly, until Adoroar had his family back together, until Isao’s monastery was fixed, and Thia had her answers and Frank had his ears, and Shade had his ghosts in corporeal form, and Twiggy had whatever it was that he wanted. If the world wouldn’t give her what she wanted by “conventional means”, then she’d twist it until it’d do whatever she said if only she would stop.

And then she’d twist harder.

She stepped into the too-bright light of the afternoon, only to see Thia and Isao talking to one another just across the street, something that would usually make her smirk, but right now she could barely bring herself to care.

 Thia looked over first, saw the way she was leaning on her staff, the scowl on her face, and was there in an instant, hand buzzing with healing energy. “You okay? Do you need—”

Whisper waved her off. “I’m fine. Peachy. Did you guys need me for something?”

Thia let her hand fall to her side as Isao joined them. “No, but we didn’t find anything at the library. Whatever information we need, it’s not here.”

“Of course it’s not,” Whisper muttered. The important answers were never in a library where just anyone could stumble across them.

“So we were thinking of grabbing dinner and then heading back to rest? Unless—”

“Unless?”

“Can you get us back to the keep now?” Isao asked, and Whisper briefly fought off the impulse to hit him with her staff.

It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t possibly know that teleporting three people clear across the prime material plane took more energy than anything else she had ever done, that she’d been the last one out of the pub because she’d had to wait until the room had stopped spinning before she could move. Besides, he’d just catch her staff like it was nothing and then she’d look like an idiot. Her ego really couldn’t take that right now.

“No,” she replied flatly. “I’m not going to have enough energy to do that until I’ve slept.”

His mouth twisted, taking in the sweat on her face and the way she was leaning on her staff, but she turned away from him, looking at Thia, who was all concern and no judgement. “So, where too?”

“Back to the pub?”

An entire island floating in the sky, and it only had one place to drink at. This place was the worst. But she couldn’t say she wanted to be at the keep right now either. There was only so much mourning she could take.

She looked at Thia, who practically was vibrating with the need to move, and flashed her a cocksure grin. The one that said: ‘I’m always alright, don’t worry.’ It did the trick. It usually did. Thia’s shoulders relaxed, if only a tick. “Lead on,” she said, sketching a small bow with one hand, and Thia turned, her face already tilting up to catch Isao’s gaze.

At least she could still pull off a performance when the audience mattered. Good. Those two had better things to worry about then her.

[theinvulnerabletide]

"But I'm going to fucking drown you."

How would your OC finish the phrase “Sticks and stones may break my bones”?

[whateverthehellthisisdnd]

Session Recap, Sprin’torel Campaign: Apotheosis

Continuing on with Anya’s trials, Whisper finds herself in an arena along with Adoraor. The only instructions they are given are “win”. They are then put through a series of battles that get increasingly difficult, only ending when they have survived every round of combat. 

Next up is the trial of Thrills, which sees Whisper paired up with Twiggy to fight a pack of hellhounds with the instruction “be prepared”. 

Following that is the test of honor, which sees Whisper and Isao bound to each other back to back, being told to “survive together” as the face down giants in a fittingly titled two headed giant battle. 

After three trials of combat, Whisper is ushered into a stone chamber where Thia is waiting for her, the two being confronted with a ghostly form of Justiana and the instructions “there are no secrets among friends”. The two struggle to come up with secrets they have still kept from each other. As they consider how to proceed, Thia heals some of Whisper’s injuries and Whisper tells Thia that she picked a good partner in Isao and that she is happy for her before confessing her own shortcomings when it comes to relationships, leading up to her confessing that she has feelings for Adoraor. In the interest of full disclosure, Thia tells Whisper that Shade has been spying on her and telling Thia all about her and her family since they arrived at Albatross Reach. Whisper is surprised that they didn’t turn on her as soon as they found out, leading to a heart to heart between the girls about their relationships and all they’ve been through, especially when it comes to Whisper’s family and how she only ever wanted Justiana to be proud of her. Thia tells her that “If she can’t see how amazing you are already, then she doesn’t deserve you.” After all, Whisper is the best at magic, as well as the best friend and almost sister that Thia could have asked for. The girls hug, and whatever is controlling the trials allows them that moment together before Thia fades out and Whisper continues on her way. 

The final room Whisper finds herself in houses a fountain, the gun that she stole from the monikers, and a shadowy figure revealed to be Oriana, who seems to be just as shocked to see Whisper as Whisper is to see her. The instructions they are given are “one life for her’s”. Whisper picks up the gun, prepared to shoot herself so that Anya may return and Oriana may go free, but is stopped by the appearance of a new figure. The new presence is revealed to the trickster Ur god, Baz’d. They tell Whisper not to take the shot as they have plans for the entire group. As the room shifts, the rest of the party appears along with two other figures: Haya and Alma’art, the gods of life and death. They, along with Baz’d, are the last surviving members of the Pantheon. 

Baz’d has many things to explain: his history with Anya, who he calls the Mother of Monsters; the collapse of the world as the Gods have fallen to a point where it is necessary to reset everything and everyone with a new pantheon;  and his history with the party. Baz’d had appeared throughout each of their lives, pulling them together and pushing them towards this point. As Oriana’s mentor, Isao’s army commander, an interference to ensure Frank failed his tests to enter his clan, one of Adoraor’s marks, Whisper’s mysterious drug dealer, the sender of Shade’s visions, the one that brought Twiggy to MoonMoon, and as Aasim - Keithia’s guardian, a front for Baz’d who admits to being her biological father. 

Keithia is expectedly confused and angry by this reveal, even more so when Baz’d admits that they killed her mother Coille (the goddess of the hunt and Thia’s patron) shortly after Keithia was born, as she had overstepped her bounds and wanted nature to overtake society again and also would have killed Keithia if she had survived, something which Thia has a hard time reconciling with the image Baz’d had given her of the goddess as Aasim when she was growing up. Over the course of their conversation, it is further revealed that Baz’d was responsible for the demiplane in which Isao killed Keithia, only furthering her anger towards them. In addition to revealing that Thia has been a child of the gods this entire time, Baz’d also reveal that they created Oriana from the last bit of Wahrwreight’s divinity and that Frank was distant descended from Kovat, giving them divine origins as well. That, of course, leads into the plans Baz’d really wishes to place before the group. 

With this version of the world falling apart, Baz’d faces the prospect of placing all those in it into a stasis while they assemble a new pantheon to rebuild it. They wish for all members of the society to be included in it, presenting them each with their individual titles: 

Shade. The protector, not only of the group but of all forces of nature. You would become The Warden, he who stands watch against those who would do nature harm. Your watch shall continue for all eternity but you won't be alone. Your people shall be returned to their home, and protected from those who would seek them harm. You would have your own wardens to do your work on Sprin'torel so you could protect everything.

Adoraor. Your life has always been one of turmoil. You raised through the ranks to become an assassin to a husband and father to a hero, yet you lived in constant agony over that which you have lost and in fear that loss would come for you again. You would become The God of Change. Whether for good or bad, you would watch over all. After all, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Frank. Through it all, you stood alongside everyone. In your greatest sadness you stood watch over your friend. You never backed down, And never once held it against anyone all the times they turned their back on you. You would become The God of Loyalty, standing as a paragon for all. You would inspire countless others to protect and stand alongside their friends and allies even in the darkest night, when all is truly lost.

Whisper. Despite your fears and insecurities, nobody here would argue that you are not as powerful as a tsunami - especially when you have been angered. Your strength and your heart has earned you the title of Goddess of the Sea. You would look over not only the creatures of the sea but also those who would sail upon it or even look to the sea for their dreams. None are more deserving than you.

Twiggy. All that you have done, you did to live your best life. From running away from the life of comfort to standing before me as you are now, everything you did, you chose to do freely. As such, you would be The God of Freedom. Around the world, people would look to you as an inspiration for a life of freedom where they may live as they want, And not as others force them to be.

Oriana. You devoted your life to the search for knowledge - even if it caused you the greatest harm and sent you to Carceri. Yet, even while you were there, your punishments were about your friends. As such, You would become The Goddess of Knowledge. Wherever people seek the truth, You will be there to guide their path and their hand. Where people seek to deceive others, You would show them the world as it is real. Knowledge is not simply about the facts, And none know that as well as you.

Isao. You sought redemption, and thanks to those around you, You have finally grown to realise what redemption means most. To forgive yourself. Especially with the help of the one you love most. You would become The God of Redemption. You would look over those who want to put a life of crime behind them and help them to the future where they would be able to forgive themselves. You would show them the path unique to them, using your experience of redemption most fully.

Keithia. None here would say that you are not a hero. Your love for your friends and for others inspired you to greatness. And while that greatness sometimes meant allowing others to stand in the spotlight, that simply cements the fact that you deserve to be the hero that all other heroes look up to. For that, you would become the Goddess of Heroism, standing bravely and boldly as an example of true leadership and heroism. Every child with the dream of wanting to make the world a better place would look to you to figure out how.

If they accept, they will ascend to the new pantheon. If they don’t, they will be returned to the material plane to take their place in the new world. Either way, Baz’d promises that they will be allowed to remain together as they are now and that Shade and Adoraor’s families will be returned to them. Some members of the party jump at the offer, such as Oriana and Shade. Others are more reluctant. Twiggy almost declines, but accepts when he realizes it means that his friends and his dog will live forever alongside him. Adoraor accepts with the promise of his wife and daughter being returned. Whisper, having been the most reluctant besides perhaps Thia, accepts after learning that Miren is dead and the completion of her mission will not bring about the world she was told it would. She disintegrates the gun with her magic before agreeing. Isao tells Thia that he is in if she is, implying that he will also stay with her if she does not accept. With Keithia being the last one to answer, she looks over her friends with a smile despite her anger, kissing Whisper on the cheek and embracing with Isao before turning to her father. She tells them that she does not forgive them for all that they have done to her and that while it may be possible to earn her forgiveness, it will take a long time to get there. She will not do this for their sake or for the world they let crumble, but she will accept to stay with her friends -- her true family -- and look after those she will leave behind when the new world comes to be. With that cementing a yes from everyone, Haya steps forward to write the ascension of the Susurrus Society into godhood. 

And that is where we close the campaign. 

[theinvulnerabletide]

4, 19 and 25 for Oriana! (I saw your dnd live tweeting and OUCH)

rough game. Dramatique ™ and narratively satisfying, but gosh the thought of never playing my girl again hurts.

4.) Describe your character using a song title.

“Angel on Fire.” (which works for every alignment really). 

19.) What Pokémon Go team would they be on?

Valour probably. She wasn’t precisely honor before reason as a character, but she was the front liner who would sacrifice herself for anyone for sure. Plus out of all three legendary birds, I’m sure Moltres would have appealed to her the most.

25.) What does this character mean to you?

Oh man. You know, I created Oriana basically as a dare from my DM. We had a small party and didn’t have ANY front liners, and the DM dared me to play two characters, and you know I can’t back down from a challenge. I gave her only a sketch of a backstory, made her a Devotion Paladin because i hadn’t played that subclass yet (and I was playing a Vengeance Paladin in my other campaign) and was off.

She quickly became a foil for my other character: thoughtful where Whisper was rash, well spoken and shy where Whisper was seductive or insulting, touch phobic where Whisper was cuddly, introspective while Whisper refused to acknowledge any feelings beyond irritation. She became a kind of beacon, for me, at least. A tragic character, stubborn in the face of darkness, determined to do the right thing, to do what was best for her people, and to carry the world on her shoulders, always touched whenever her friends came to her, but sort of… holding herself apart, too. In that, at least Whisper and she had common ground.

I loved her. I loved being her. Almost as much as I loved being Whisper, and especially when she went darkside: that dichotomy of being so Lawful Good on the outside with gears spinning inside was so much fun to play.

Curiosity was her downfall, followed quickly by pride. And yet, she still did kind of sacrifice herself for the party, which is always the end I wanted for her (if she didn’t get to live out her days as the Baroness of Ambrose Grove).

But goddamn, I’m going to miss her.

[theinvulnerabletide]

Okay but

"I'm sick of losing soulmates

Won't be alone again

I can finally see you're as fucked up as me

so how do we win?"

Is a whole Whisper & Oriana mood especially after last week and don't mind me I'm just going to cry myself to sleep.

[theinvulnerabletide]

I would 100% believe Shade haunts this swamp.

Wow is our Druid also guesting on Critical Role?

[theinvulnerabletide]

Angsty Character Asks: 9, 11, 15, 22 for Oriana :(

Kelsey, why do you wish to hurt me.

9.) What is the greatestsacrifice Oriana could ever make?

I don’t know where Oriana’ssoul is or what she’s enduring right now, or even what her alignment is, but Ido know that Good!Oriana would willingly remain there for eternity if it meantthat they all stayed safe from her.

The biggest sacrificethough would probably be her ability to read. I don’t know in what situationshe would have to sacrifice it, but... 

11.) Oriana is forced to killa member of their family or a friend. Who does she choose and why?

If it were evil!Oriana,whichever friend would gain her the most power. So that would probably end upbeing Frank, because he was still the one she cared about most. He was stillher best friend, even if that love and friendship turned into a self-satisfiedknowledge that he would do anything for her, and her fondness for him became more…the fondness one has for a pet.

Good!Oriana would rather endherself than hurt any of her friends. Always. 

15.) How far would Orianago to protect her loved ones?

She’d die for them in a heartbeat.That wouldn’t be difficult at all for her—even now, I’m sure Oriana is gratefulthat Shade stopped her before she was able to cause any lasting harm.

She’s even killed peoplefor them before, even against her better judgement. She even endangered her soul(though admittedly, that was a secondary reason for reading the book, behindher curiosity and need for distraction).

I think the one thingthat she would prioritize is the fate of Ambrose Grove—and beyond that, theworld. As it was her duty to protect both, and with Oriana, when she was in herright mind, duty came above all else.

22.) What is Oriana the guiltiestabout?

If she weren’t DEAD rightnow, she’d probably feel the guiltiest about manipulating Thodak. She didn’tget that far in her plans, thank Wahreight, and while fostering a relationship withhim is a good thing—and something traumatized Oriana hadn’t really been capableof without incredible awkwardness– she was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

[theinvulnerabletide]

Curiosity Kills

The Keep was lonely without everyone around. Oris was off in the town with his… friend. Adoraor in the courtyard with Merlin. The children were doing whatever it was children who didn’t have regimented lives did. And Oriana was alone in the halls of Dawn’s Home, feeling oddly discomfited. Claustrophobic, despite all the empty space.

Every breath was another breath that the people who had been captured by this “Swan” (which was still a stupid name, neither of the dead men she’d spoken with had heard the least bit of music before falling unconscious), were still in danger. And yet there was nothing she could do to help them, not by herself. There was nothing to do but wait.

She hated waiting. 

She retired to her room, deciding to at least to unpack. Do something productive with her time. They’d been gone so long, and but if this was going to be a home… She dug into her Bag of Holding and placed the confusing griffon statue on the mantle of the fireplace, her weapons around the room, and began to put the books she was going to keep on the shelves in the sitting room, her favorite novels, the compilations of folktales, the books of scripture, the philosophy books Shade had gotten her last Guiding Light (Wahreight bless, she still needed to do her Guiding Light shopping), and...

The last book she pulled out brought a gasp from her throat.

She’d forgotten about this one, in all the flitting about the world from one place to another. It was a good-sized tome, sturdy brown leather, the pages gilt-edged. A demonic visage grinned up at her in lieu of a title. 

This was the book they’d taken from that tomb, hadn’t they? The one underneath the swamp, the one that vicious black dragon had turned into a lair.

Her fingers ghosted over the cover and she shuddered. It certainly looked like the sort of thing a cruel, ancient black dragon would have in her hoard. A spellbook, perhaps? Or… she felt her heart flitter up to her throat. Perhaps it had been there before the dragon had arrived. And perhaps it had some answers about those odd murals on the walls in the first room.

This was a bad idea, she told herself. She shouldn’t open it alone… Whisper should be here at the very least. It was magical, a quick Detect Magic proved that. It blazed with magic. And it was very probably evil. Nothing good had a demon’s face on the cover. 

But then she was the best equipped to handle it if it was evil, wasn’t she? Wahreight was on her side. His power coursed through her, as steady as the sun streaming in through the window. With his grace, she could overcome whatever this book had for her. 

Curiosity nipped at her. She couldn’t stand it. She wanted know. And surely no harm ever came from reading a book. As long as she didn’t try anything in there.

She pulled at the cover, but it didn’t budge. Ran her fingers over the edges but could find no catch. Tried to dispel what was keeping it closed, but the magic did nothing to lesson the power she felt pouring from it.

The demon continued to grin at her. Taunting her. No, not taunting, offering. She felt it, the power radiating off of this book in tendrils. It would let her have the knowledge, if she just let it in.

She ran her fingers over the tome again, considering it. Watching the way the sun collected on the demon’s teeth, on the golden filigree. Definitely evil. The smartest thing to do would have been to shove it back in the bag of holding. 

Just another second. Any moment now, any breath and she’d stand up and shove the book back into the bag of holding where it belonged until they could all examine it together. All of them. 

Any moment now.

And then, the world shifted before her. In the light that glinted up from that demon’s grinning maw, was the future. Crystaline. Sublime.

She saw herself seated on Arwyl’s throne, a spindly golden crown perched in her grey-streaked hair, a gown of red and gold encasing her still-strong body. A smirk lifted her lips to match the crow’s feet near her golden eyes, as her court bowed before her. Her. Rightful queen, Empress Oriana, first of her name. Mistress of all she surveyed. 

At her left stood her son, brilliant and shining through hard training and discipline. Even his tusks didn’t destroy the tableau. The years had been good to him. He wore his black armor well, carried the shining greatsword like he’d been born to it. His bearing was noble, powerful, and when he looked down at her he was searching her face for approval, basking in the smile she cast him. He led her armies into battle. He cut down all who dared oppose her. She was so proud. 

At her right, she was surprised to see van Ivan. The Death Knight, no longer so. The black armor remained, and his eyes burned red, but his flesh had been returned to him, pale, yes, but human. Healthy. The smile he sent her was wan, and he nodded his head in a mockery of a bow. He too, was hers. Her instrument, and he worshipped her as she deserved. 

And the foot of the dais, before the crowd of bowing figures both desiring her attention and fearing it all at once, was Frank. Ramrod straight, without armor as always, his dull gray skin still unmarked. He who had seen her worth from the first, when she hadn’t realized it herself. He who had followed her wherever she lead. A little dim, perhaps, but loyal, and in return for that unending loyalty she had given him all he had ever wanted. His ears sharpened to points at their ends. 

The emotion in her—pride and righteousness and an inexplicable and all-consuming love— upswept to a crescendo then, as she stood, and the ranks of her court cowered lower. She raised her hand, covered in gold from the signet ring to the bangles studded with garnets, and light filled her hand effortlessly. Power. Not granted to her by supplication every morning, not begged-for scraps. Real power. Her own power.

Power enough to change the world and make it her own. 

The vision cut off there, and she was suddenly back in her barely lived in room. Suddenly alone. Cold and bereft. She frowned. 

She didn’t have to stay that way. She could make it come true. It would take time, and cleverness, and a martialing of resources and a gathering of allies. No shortage of play acting to keep the peons unsuspicious. But she could make it come true, if she started now.

And the key was right here in her hand. 

Her fingertips ghosted over the cover, over the ancient leather, that demon’s grinning face. She smiled back. Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.

She opened the book, the cover swinging open easily, revealing a cracked vellum written over in a spidery hand. And she began to read.  

[theinvulnerabletide]

Kiss Prompt: 10, whisper & Adoraor

Waking up feels like rising out of dark water, a breath at a time, and by the time enough awareness has collected that she can feel herself in her body, the pain hits her. Her body is stiff and sore all over, and her head is throbbing in time to her heartbeat. She hasn’t had a hangover in years, but this is what she remembers it feeling like, her mouth arid and dry, her body one giant ache, and as she tries to open her eyes vertigo hits her like a punch to the chin.

She lets out a groan and lets her eyes slide shut.Something tugs at her chin, tilts her face upwards. “Ah, there she is, our curious little fish. Tried to drown you like all the other little ducklings, only to find out she’s not a bird at all! Curious and curiouser.” A finger jabs at her throat, and she flinches. “Breathes water, yet she’s got no gills!”The hand drops away and her chin falls to her chest, head ringing

Where is she? The last thing she remembers is leaving the bar… a bar. She was at that bar for a reason. She was trying to…

Whoever is in the room with her keeps babbling. She ignores them, trying to concentrate, but her thoughts are liquid and seep away as she tries to collect them.

She was trying to accomplish something, wasn’t she? By leaving the bar. Alone. Right, she’d been alone, which had been on purpose for some reason. And that was because…

There’s the scrape of metal on stone, and the sound is so visceral her head shoots up of its own accord, causing her head to swim all over again. That’s not a good sound. And that fear is enough to make her narrow back in on the continuous ramble:

“—you may not drown, but you do still have eyes. We’ll start there, though it is a little unorthodox. A little off mode. Eyes first, and then I guess we’ll just see what else I’ll have to do to kill you. Can you breathe acid, I wonder? Oh, where would I get enough of a vat of acid to—” it cuts off then, an sharp inhale, then a gurgling sound, and the sound of several somethings flying through the air. A heavy slap against the ground, and then a softer patter. Footsteps, she thinks.

She tries to open her eyes to see, but there’s only a painful blur. She moves a little and discovers the reason she isn’t in a puddle on the floor right now is that she’s bound. Her shoulders and back and arms ache because her hands are tied together behind her back, she can’t move her legs because they’re tied to the legs of the chair she’s sitting on. She can’t move her head too far because her neck is tied to her hands.

She starts to panic, breath coming in gasps as she feels someone come around behind her.

“Hey, calm down,” someone new murmurs in her ear. It’s a familiar voice. Good familiar. She stops struggling. “I’m just going to cut you free, alright?” Then there’s a hand on her wrist, holding her still, the sense of motion behind her.

“‘Don’t worry guys, I’ve got this,’ she says,” the person behind her mutters under his breath. “‘I can’t drown, and I’m the best at magic, I can get out of anything. I’m definitely not going to be murdered by the serial killer.’ And yet here you are, having to have your ass saved. Typical. Oh, shit.”

The ropes holding her up loosen and she slumps forward, just barely being caught by a pair of hands pushing her backwards onto the chair.

“Come on, Whisper,” the familiar voice says in her ear. “Wake up. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Her heart jumps in her chest as he says that. Whisper. That’s her name. Right.

She tries to obey, struggling to clear her vision, and after a few heartbeats of blinking away tears, the world resolves into focus, and the pain in her temple recedes. Just a bit. Just enough.

There’s a man in black at her feet, a knife in his hands, cutting away the rope around her ankles. Dark hair pulled back away from his face. A crossbow on the floor beside him. Familiar, and safe. She knows she’s safe.

And then he looks up at her, frowning slightly, and her heart flies into her throat.

He’s, well, he’s not pretty, but there’s something about him. Something that makes warmth pool in her stomach. Her gaze flicks from his, to his lips, and then away. “Whisper? Shit, are you okay?”

“I think…” she frowns, and then tries getting up, pushing herself off of the chair and overbalancing. Her legs seize, and knees crumple and she pitches forward as they give out completely.

He panics, shoots up to catch her as she slumps against him. “You’re not okay, are you. Come on, we’ll get you to Oriana, we’ll—”

Her eyes fall to his lips, at the way he shapes his words, and there’s this impulse she can’t describe. She should resist it. She doesn’t know why she should want to. So she pushes herself up on her toes, and she leans in, and she kisses him.

He freezes. And of course, that’s the moment that the fog in her head clears, just enough for her to remember why she never gives in to impulses like this.

Oh no. Oh no, oh Miren what has she done.

The warmth in her stomach leeches away to dread, and she very gently pushes herself off of Adoraor, fixing a smirk in place as she draws away. “A kiss for the conquering hero,” she says, batting her eyelashes at him. That wasn’t serious. Please, she projects. That was just me being an ass. Ignore it. Ignore me. “But yes, I might need to see Oriana. You can handle the rest of this, I hope?”

And without waiting for an answer, despite the screaming in her legs and the rapidly cooling corpse on the floor, she forces herself to walk away. She doesn’t look back.

[theinvulnerabletide]

We have an entire continent! Because a bunch of dopplegangers were destroying entire cities worth of people, just making them all drop dead like flies, and they were wearing our faces and whatnot. But after killing them we didn't, like, go to any authorities or anything, we just mailed the doppleganger bits to the king and court with a strongly worded letter and just got on a boat and left the whole place.

We have no idea if our names have been cleared or if the killing has stopped or anything.

every D&D party has that one city/town that they can NEVER go back to

[theinvulnerabletide]

Kiss Prompt 2, Whisper and Twiggy

“Movingaround while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other against thewall/onto the bed.”Oh man, the most difficult part of writing. Choreography. Let’s see how well I did.

It should go without saying, this is lemon-adjacent. 

“You’re sure about this?”Whisper asked, one fine, white eyebrow raised. Amused, yes, but just thesmallest bit reticent. It had been so long since she’d touched someone in ameaningful way, and she felt wild with it, embarrassingly desperate to justfeel someone’s skin against her own. But she held herself back. She was alwaysand forever holding herself back. So many barriers between her and the world.“No strings, no expectations, no feelings. You can handle it, right?”

She heard Twiggy swallow, butsaw the way he gathered himself, tilting his chin in defiance of himself.“Yeah. I can handle it.”           

He still sounded like he wastrying to convince himself more than anything, but she smiled. It was sogratifying that she could inspire nerves like this. In some people. 

So, Whisper pulled at theribbon that had kept the robe in place, let the cream silk flutter to thefloor. Reveled in the way Twiggy’s breath hitched as he took in all of her. Thiswasn’t the glimpse of blue during a costume change. This had heat. This wasincredibly deliberate. 

She took a step forward, thenanother, stretching each movement out until she was tantalizingly close. Untilshe could feel the heat of his body against her skin, in the feather’s breadthbetween them. “Say it.”“Hm?”She smiled, cat with the canary right where she wanted him, preening at the way his eyes drank her in. “Tell me that you want me.”

It came out as a whisper. “Iwant you.”          

“And what do you want me todo?”            He blinked. “Have sex withme?”            She closed her eyes, just stoppingherself from laughing out loud. “You’re going to have to work on your bedroomtalk. But for right now, that’ll do.”            And before he could sayanything else, she pressed her lips to his. Chastely at first, just a peck, but she quickly deepened it. And but once he got overhis shock, Twiggy matched her, forceful and artless, as if he were afraid hewouldn’t get another chance.

Whisper’s hands found the hemof his tunic and lifted it over his head in one smooth motion, breaking contactjust long enough to get the fabric from in between them, then she was back,pressing into him, pushing him into the wall behind him, her nails rakingthrough his hair, then trailing down his shoulders, her nails scoring lightlyinto his skin.

He gripped her hips for dearlife as she nipped at his lips again before pressing in harder, insistent. 

It took him a moment and ahastily drawn breath to get his faculties back, his nose filled with the saltand waterlily scent of her hair, and he granted her admittance, giving a littleground to gain some. Hesitantly at first, he guided her backwards, nearlytripping over his own tunic, steering them towards the bed.

She let him once she realizedwhere he was heading, holding a laugh in her throat the whole time as she exploredhim, her errant hands finding his waistband. 

Twiggy walked her back justanother inch as she managed to tug his breeches down over his ass, knocking theback of her legs into the side of the bed. Whisper fell backwards, and him on topof her, their lips finally unlocking and the laugh she’d been holding spillingfree. She buried her head in his shoulder, the very tips of her horns pressingin as she shook.            Twiggy couldn’t help it. Hewent bright red. Ittook her a moment to notice how still he’d gotten, and another for her to stop.Whisper peered up at him, grinning. “I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding theleast bit apologetic. “I think I’m out of practice. It’s been so long. NormallyI’d have had you up against a wall by now.”            “You think—it’s not you. I mean, it’s been even longer forme, I—”            She cut him off with anotherkiss. “Come on, boyo. I guess we both have some catching up to do.”            “Okay.” And he let her pullhim back on top of her.

[theinvulnerabletide]

25 OC questions: 2, 9, 14, 10, 25 for Lyra

2.) What is a notablequite from Lyra, or their favorite quote?

Awheck. It’s been a while since I played as her, I can barely remember anythingshe’s said. Maybe “It’s called the Emerald Forest” to our ranger during our firstpathfinder game while we were looking for the answer to a riddle and it wasliterally right in front of his face. Or maybe “Magic is a crutch.Shouldn’t get to used to it, less it starts using you instead.”

Herfavorite quote though would be from Six of Crows: “When everyone knowsyou’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

Shemay have a little Kaz in her. :P

9.)Who, for better or worse has had the most impact on Lyra’s life?

Hm. YoungLyra that would be Blackthorne. He built her a world and then he destroyed it.I think… hm. Adult Lyra’s might be Arannis? He’s been a friend to her fornearly 30 years now– or Lucien as her constant companion and first made. Oneof those three.

10.)What is the most badass thing this character has ever done?

SaveArannis from the mouth of a ramohaz? Or nearly singlehandedly kill aOblex. Though honestly, it’s probably getting back out of hell after going in after the demon that had been sending her nightmares, and not leaving anyone behind. 

14.)What is Lyra’s relationship with religion or the church?

It’snot that she doesn’t believe? In fact, she makes proper offerings to the Twinsand to Miren whenever they stop at a city large enough to have a temple, justin case. She just doesn’t have much use for it as a whole. Praying didn’t saveher mother, or stop Blackthorne from killing her friends. It didn’t stop ademon from haunting her nightmares. Near as she can tell they never gave heranything either. 

She’sgot nothing against them as a concept, but she’s got better things to do thanspend a few hours a week thanking them for shit she won in her own right.

25.)What does Lyra mean to you?

Lyrawas the second character I ever made, and I put a LOT of time into her and intoher backstory, first for a Pathfinder game that fell apart after a year, andthen for a 5e game… that also eventually dissolved. Which is a shame. I did a lotto flesh Lyra out—even started building her a system of slang (which I am now incorporatinginto other projects so it’s not a complete loss) and not getting to go throughand experience her whole journey is something I don’t think I’ll ever get over,though my DM has been kind enough to let me play her in one shots, and to bringher back as a semi-recurrent PC in our game.

Andat the very least, I know she has her happy ending. Sailing through the skieson the Star Song with her crew, making a haven for people like her, despite hernightmares, despite all her scars. She gives me hope.

[theinvulnerabletide]

Angsty character asks: 2, 6, 8, 10, 11, 15, 25 for Whisper

2.) What would it take to break Whisper beyond repair? Has ithappened?

I think having to hurt anyone that she cares about wouldfinally do it. Oriana’s death has been bad enough on her psyche, but when herloyalties start to conflict and she’ll finally be forced to choose a side… if peopledie as a result? She might just shatter and blue screen. 

I know Oriana’s death is affecting her a lot more than Ithought it would.

6.) What would get Whisper to make herself disappear?

Honestly, all it would take is her mother telling her toagain, and she would. Though the death of anyone else that’s close to her mightalso do it. She’s pretty fragile right now.

8.) What is the closest Whisper has come to death?

In the stone giant cave, during that fight with the drow. Thatwas the last time she actually went down, and I think she was actually making deathsaves before Oriana fought through the bodies and managed to get her up.

10.) What is the worst loss Whisper has ever suffered?

I think it’s still the loss of Mordecai, and being forced toleave home not long afterwards. Losing her younger brother and then beingforced out of the only home she’d ever known, away from all her supportstructures, such as they were, came very close to destroying her. If she hadn’tspecifically been commanded to keep herself alive, she might not have.

11.) Whisper is forced to kill a member of their family or afriend. Who does she choose and why?

…I think she just refuses. She does everything in her power tomake it so no one has to die, uses every bit of persuasion she has in her, everyspell she knows or can beg borrow or steal, bribes or offers everything she has.She will not see another person dead.

If it’s unavoidable, and done for the “right reasons,” then thatdepends on why the person needs to die. Shade would be the easiest person forher to just kill outright—not easy physically, but easiest emotionally—but that’swhy his death probably wouldn’t be enough. Idk, there’s a lot of variables.

15.) How far would Whisper go to protect her loved ones?

There isn’t a limit for her. Dying she could do, dying iseasy. She doesn’t have to be around to watch the aftermath or deal with the trauma.She’d trade herself it if it meant keeping the people she loves in tact.

Honestly the only thing she wouldn’t give up to keep them safeis her magic, since that’s an intrinsic part of her. To lose that would be afate worse than death. Better to give up her life, or trade her body, or do themagic for them.

25.) What does Whisper love most and what would she do to keepit?

At the risk of sounding repetitive, her friends, her family,and her magic, at all about the same level. And… anything.

[theinvulnerabletide]

Character Headcanon: Oriana

Oh, Oriana, my poor ex-aasimar paladin who is now beset by PTSD and guilt. I miss her, I really do. Going to try and settle into her and see if I can get this right.

so!

1: Sexuality Headcanon

I think she’s demisexual, at the very least, if not further ace on the spectrum. I think she’s biromantic as well. 

2: OTP

Okay, this is weird one, but go with me here. Sir van Ivan x Oriana. I don’t know what it was, but after that little conferentation they had, when he got excited about the prospect of Oriana coming around to his way of thinking, and Oriana’s guilt at having killed him, and her morbid curiosity and probing questions, I kind of saw something there.

Sure, he killed her and burnt the aasimar blood from her veins (which really makes them even, doesn’t it) and she’ll never forgive him for murdering every guard and noble and municipal officer in Revolutionsburg (though she really blames herself for not stopping him), but I could see an enemies to lovers arc.

Even if he's bad at rhetoric.

3: Brotp

I’ll give you two: Frank & Oriana and Thia & Oriana. 

4: Notp

non platonic Frank & Oriana. It’s weird enough that he thinks she’s some sort of god, it being romantic would be weird. And even though we found out Frank fucks, honestly, I don’t think that Oriana could ever see him in a romantic light. 

5: First headcanon that pops into my head

Since Oriana died and came back has human, she has been avoiding her friends and party members as much as possible, but especially Frank. With all the guilt and self-loathing she has building up in her, she couldn’t handle seeing the way he looks at her; whether he is still looking at her like she hung the moon, or he has finally realized what a disappointment she is. 

She also hasn’t made breakfast for anyone since. 

6: One way in which I relate to this character

She’s a know it all book worm who has a thing about being touched. Hmmm,let me think… And while my touch thing is probably related to skin hunger and isn’t nearly as severe, it still does exist. 

7: Thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character:

Her embarrassment over her books.Whenever someone teases her about what she’s reading (even if it’s Whisper), I feel a little of the splashback. And whenever someone talks about sex in front of her, or insinuates she and Frank are a thing (looking at you random criminal). 

8: Cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Definitely a Cinnamon Roll. Oriana has never done anything wrong in her entire life thank you.

[theinvulnerabletide]

Oriana was fine, mostly, until she caught sight of herself in the shop window.

Her eyes were different. They’d been strange before, bright polished gold of a well-loved antique, with an almost-glow to them. Now they were brown. A human, empty brown.

But the changes didn’t stop there. She had the same general features, she could still tell it was her, but everything was just slightly off. Her nose was rounder, her skin rougher, freckled. Her hair had changed hue, from rich and midnight black to the colorless brown of a bird’s wing. It had fallen out of its pinnings sometime during the battle, and it hung about her startled, pale face.

It hurt to look at herself. Empty night. She hadn’t realized she had any real vanity until now. But it ached to see herself so changed, to see the one thing that had ever set her apart gone.

She remembered waking up, in the courtyard, able to feel the cold cobblestones even through her mithril-lined clothing, and she’d felt wrong.

Or… perhaps not wrong, per say, but different. It was difficult to put into words. She’d felt cold—still did, in fact-- and curiously shrunken, as if her skin was now too small to contain her. And dark somehow. Was it possible to feel dark? She looked down at herself. The clothes that the armorer, Mr. Thundercannonn, had crafted for her had shed the blood before it could stain, as he’d promised they would, but the ground around her feet was not so lucky. Her blood had sunk into the cobblestones and the dirt between them, but when she touched her stomach, where she remembered that last slash hitting her…

It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t even been even tender. But there was so much blood all around her. She should have been dead.

Her breath had caught as her eyes landed on the feathers, spread out on the cobblestones behind her. All of them gold, with a slightly metallic sheen. And as she watched, one by one, they winked out of existence, fading like stars before the sun. She tried to grab one, feeling an odd stab of panic, but as her gauntleted hands brushed the vane, it too faded away.

And now she knew why, now that she could see it with her own eyes. She was human.

“I need to… I need to find a temple,” she mumbled to herself, vaguely at her friends, and peeled off from the group, ignoring Frank’s troubled expression. She wandered for nearly an hour before she found a temple to Wahreight.

The temple was full of people when she arrived there, residents sheltering from the attack, but a resident priest saw her anyway, and even when she revealed her wounds were not physical. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him everything, but he prayed with her. That was more of a kindness than she deserved.

It didn’t help. It did nothing to assuage the guilt that was slowly spreading its nausea through her.

She’d failed. Those two words continued to knell within her head. She’d failed. She’d failed to stop van Norman, raised from the dead, doing some wizard’s bidding, from killing Lord Orzini. She’d failed to stand in his way to stop him from committing mass murder. She’d failed her post as a protector, as a paladin. So this must be her punishment. She’d been found unworthy of the power in her blood, so instead of swift, clean end in battle and continued service in the celestial realms, she’d been stripped of her heritage and sent back to see the full effects of her failure, to suffer under the weight of this guilt.

She deserved it. Obviously. Or she wouldn’t be here now.  

She accepted the priest’s platitudes and thanked him, and left the building before she could begin to cry. It was night, by then. And a night darker than she had ever known before.

[theinvulnerabletide]

5 sentence fic: Oriana & The Susurrus Society, family

She’d never really thoughtthat much about family, even growing up in an orphanage, where all of the other children seemed obsessed with it. Wahreight had a plan for her, she knew that inher blood, and so the church was her family; she didn’t think she neededanother.

And yet, here they were, in her keep, seated around the table shehad laden down with food and drink to celebrate the feast day, and she felt awarmth blossom in her that had nothing to do with the wine.

The gods did move inmysterious ways after all, she thought. And she smiled.