#starlyht // sol'rys

[miidnighters]

@starlyht | continued from ☾

"Hmm."

There were very few people Hartley allows to insinuate she's not hunting with one hundred percent focus, and that's because there are very few people she allows close enough to be able to tell.

For all the feelings she holds for Sol'rys, it's disconcerting being somewhat known in return.

She watches as he pulls the teeth from the gnoll - truly, she was more support than anything in this instance, offering back up where there might have been gaps in Sol'rys' hunting due to the number of the pack. It was probably lucky she wasn't crucial, given her current disposition.

"It's fine. All the gnolls are dead. You did well."

[the-d20-files]

@starlyht continued from here.

Arachesis is frighteningly familiar with the blind hostility of fellow ( no longer ) Lolth-sworn. They remember, all too well, how deeply the fealty runs, how intrinsic it is to one's very being ( the connection of the tadpole squirming within their skull had certainly helped to reignite the feeling, at least ) . It does not surprise them. It does not agitate them.

It does not.

The softer part of them, the one that feels pulled towards the silver glow of the moon, that is delicate and gentle and weak, feels pity for Sol'rys. They ignore that part, knowing it is not wanted, not needed. That it would likely be reviled if they allowed it to show.

The only reaction to Sol'rys' words is a twitch in their brow, ears flexing low. Their gaze does not waver as they respond; ❝ I do not know about 'they', but it is how I justify it, yes. ❞ They know this is not what he meant. He meant it rhetorically, they're fairly sure. Not that they care. ❝ I can speak only for myself, after all. ❞

They return their attention to the delicate paintings along their inner arm, patterns of swirling white around a silvery crescent moon. A hum vibrates from deep in their throat at his last words.

❝ I shall thank The Dark Dancer, then, that I was well-trained. ❞ It is a childish thing to say, even if Arachesis is not certain that Sol'rys will pick up on their true meaning ( they know he certainly won't appreciate the invocation of Eilistraee, if nothing else ) . It may have been years since they'd stepped foot in one of Lolth's temples, since they'd sparred with another sworn, but they had never lost the things they had learned as a child. The techniques were buried under years more of training, perhaps, but still there, they think. Somewhere under the surface. Something they would never quite outgrow, try as they might.

[storyhaunt-a]

most would consider it counterproductive, strange - the way that andras has, with mixed success, avoided and withdrawn from the rest of the party. it's difficult, to fully escape the people who you are traveling with, who are, for all intents and purposes, your companions, but it's no more difficult than doing anything else in this day and age. at least, with most of the party, that is.

there has been one in particular that andras has been particularly wary around; sol'rys. the others, he has no true excuse (other than, perhaps, they grate on the nerves and senses, effectively annoying him out of his wits, though even that only applies to some) to avoid, but sol'rys ... it is not the fact that he reeks of the underdark that makes andras prowl with caution, not his heritage which seems to make all others balk and bite. it is the wild thing that lives just under the surface, the thing that claws at him, bites at him, snarls in the quiet of the night and in the light of the moon. it is a curse that they both hold like a secret to their chest, and frankly, andras is not eager to see how those beasts mesh.

well - andras may not be eager, but fate does not care what anybody wants. and these are, relatively speaking, close quarters. there is no true evading the other, no matter the strides taken. it does not help that he is not only a sorcerer but a cleric (however vaguely), and it is, unfortunately, apart of the job to help others when they are hurt.

and this party, apparently, loves getting hurt.

" you will, unfortunately, " andras says to sol'rys, " need to hold still for a moment. my hands are steady - but i cannot anchor myself quite as well as shadowheart does. " an attempt at small talk while he aims to heal; stiff and awkward as ever.

* @starlyht

[fairytaletold]

@starlyht // continued.

❛ That's too bad. I'm telling you. ❜ The rebuff has her embarrassed, and struggling to hide it. A mercy that she spent many years pretending to be reverent as a priestess: had she not learned to suppress her emotions, she would not currently be alive. ❛ Months, ❜ she adds sharply, all previous intentions of goodwill having long fled her tone. ❛ But what do you care? This information will rot away with disuse. The times you deign to speak with me are few and far between. ❜

[demonwebs]

just know sol'rys wants to make a joke about biting. that no one else would understand because it's tragic being a closet werewolf. 😔🐺

❝ ... what ? ... why are you looking at me like that ? ❞ he's squinting real hard . why does he have this feeling like sol'rys is seeing a rabbit when he looks at him , all of the sudden ? ❝ ... whatever you are doing ... stop it . ❞

[darkblessed]

@starlyht / continued.

" of course. "

it's an answer that is meant to be infuriatingly vague. of course what? does it get tiring? did he know that the people who paid him to hunt monsters cared little for his own safety?

of course.

he clicks the locks on his apothecary's box, carefully storing the newly harvested pieces of their last kill, and turns his eyes to look over the edge of the box at sol'rys.

" it's fine - i know my limits. i wouldn't take a job that i knew would end badly. accidents can happen, of course, but i try to stay within my ability. "

there's the sound of coins being jostled, and the movement of the small drawers in the box rattles the smooth sea glass that hangs on the front of the box.

" i'm sure you do the same, as a practiced sellsword. you were a great help on this job. "

[bloodedhearts]

"It's comforting, to be surrounded with darkness like this." Since they have arrived to these cursed lands, Shadowheart feels like Lady Shar truly cares for her. She's not affected by the curse, after all. She doesn't need any special protection, unlike most people. And yet... she's anxious. Maybe the time will come for her to finally be tested. Will she be strong enough to become a dark justicar ?

@starlyht ❤'d !

[chaos--mode]

@starlyht continued from here.

ren is not impressed. she hadn't meant to start, like, a thing. then again, did she forget who she was talking to? of course it was gonna start a thing.

her lighthearted expression is almost immediately dashed, replaced with a deadpan stare. her brow twitches in irritation. gods, but she does not like talking to sol. why does she even bother?

it takes an excessively deep breath for her to not simply stand up and walk away while he prattles on. she knew she should've sat closer to the fire. she watches the others enjoy a decidedly less aggravating conversation in a semi-circle around the flames, bathed in a pretty orange glow. it doesn't matter what they're talking about, it's undoubtedly better than whatever ren has managed to talk herself into over here.

but, despite her annoyance, ren is not one to back down from a challenge. if anything the irritation only makes her want to argue harder, though she'd never admit it aloud.

❝ oh, is that so? ❞ a little smirk pulls at the corner of her lips, expression morphing into something smarmy, nearly cheshire as she tilts her head to one side and leans back on her hands. ❝ don't you live for lolth? that's your whole thing, is it not? you live to be her little plaything. i'd rather live for someone who actually gives a shit what happens to me. ❞

she swears, between him, gale, shadowheart, lae'zel, they're just a walking group of red flags yelling ' don't put your fucking trust in the gods ' .

[bhaalsworn]

@starlyht / cont from here.

" good, because i've come to despise true souls. "

he sneers and continues to follow in the ranger's footsteps despite the suggestion that he leave sol'rys to go off on his own. adinirahc was grateful in his own way for being rescued from nere's overbearing hand.

who knew his status from menzoberranzan meant little to nothing here in this stretch of the underdark? he'd come from the city and fallen directly into the hands of the absolutists. when he ended up here, it was the matter of being alone that kept him from taking nere's head himself.

" i know how to get down into the forge, but i am deeply curious what you wish to do with it when we find it. "

[miidnighters]

@starlyht sent ❛  06 .   a  kiss  during  a  fight .

She is truly out of patience with him. Perhaps Hartley is frustrated with herself - mystified why she continues to stay by his side, to offer her help and guidance when he does nothing but argue and hinder her efforts at every turn.

Sure, he'd told her she was an idiot for helping, but now she was starting to believe it.

"I told you once before that I'm not a stupid woman, Sol'rys. I'm going out of my way to help you because I think you're someone worth helping, and then you go and do this? I don't expect to be informed of your every move but ducking me on the night of the full moon to handle it yourself is really something else."

He at least has the grace to look somewhat contrite - stepping close and pulling her in for a kiss as if that will pacify her. And it does - Hartley melts into it, for a moment, because she's a fool, before breaking away and looking at him harshly.

"I am not some girl to be won over with sweet gestures either. If you want me to stay, mean it."

[weavecalled]

@starlyht // liked for ryn! (for sol!)

"you're from the UNDERDARK, right? whereabouts?" her head is tilted as she asks. she's no expert on underdark geography but she has spent some time there. unfortunatly. "i only ask because I spent some time in Ust Natha a while back, was wondering what the odds of us having met before were." it was slim, gods hoping it was slim at least.

[dreadgrace-a]

‘you court death with far too much persistence.’ | @starlyht

Lark simply laughs, Sol'rys' displeasure dripping from her like the beast's death-spray. His caution had gotten both what they wanted. Life and death. Death and life. Her bloodlust is sated for now. Father in her is satisfied.

She grins at the drow. Is the blood in her teeth the minotaur's? Hers? Or something far more unfathomable to the likes of them? ‘We all court death. You, I, Wish, Shadowheart, even Gale. It is our nature; why should I deny that?’

[fairytaletold]

@starlyht // continued.

❛ I… ❜ Teeth make purchase in her lower lip. She may be too naive and not too perceptive, but Bambi isn’t stupid: she knows he wants her to say yes. And maybe she should laugh it away, like it’d been nothing more than a silly joke — but she doesn’t. For one thing, she’s a terrible liar. And for another, it’s probably best that he knows why she’s sidled so close to him.

❛ I’m sorry. ❜ She’s trying not to be a burden. Just today, she made him a whole pouch of goodberries, and she almost got the most gregarious squirrel to confirm they were going the right way. It hasn’t lessened the awful feeling that she’s always just in his way. ❛ But it’s okay! I… I don’t really need a fire. I’m sure everything will be fine! ❜

[demonwebs]

PROMPTS FOR LAVISH BALLS, PARTIES, AND SECRETS

↳ @starlyht : i need another drink. - sol.

understatement of the century ; if indulging in these courteous pleasantries makes him borderline suicidal , he can't even fathom the way sol'rys must be eager for a high cliff to jump from right now . in the most unlikely of places , look at the two of them , somehow finding something akin to common ground . perhaps mutual hatred for everything and everyone would be the glue to hold this relationship from bursting at the seams , after all .

and he'd drown him in sympathy , except all of his restraint is going on schmoozing these obnoxious nobles , sparing the other from doing so . not because he's so kind , but because the last thing he wants is drow brain matter splattered all over his new clothes if sol'rys tries to make himself socialize .

❝ oh , i'm sorry ... is standing around sulking exhausting to you ? ❞ then again - maybe it wasn't sulking . maybe his expression is just hardened into that expression , and trying to smile would cause it to crack and shatter . ❝ will you at least try to smile ? you look the part , but i need you to be less ... you , for the next hour or so . ❞ cue an exasperated sigh . ❝ ... we need to get you something stronger than this bubbly liquor . much stronger ... maybe jaheira has some fey mushrooms to spare ? ❞

[illmatter]

" i might've got a little carried away. " - sol’rys

the smell of blood is making his head pound incessantly, even as sol'rys cleans the blade he carries and immeral holds a hand out to heal a cut on the ranger's forearm. his movements are stilted, almost hesitant, as his fingertips glow.

he wants badly to add his companion's blood to that spilled on the grass, to leave him to die here in the shadowed lands around them, but he shakes his head and holds his breath. there's a slow count back from five before he draws his hand back.

the wound is closed into a flat scar that would fade by morning.

" it's. . .useful. thank you for - " your utter ruthlessness. " - your efficiency at this. it's good to keep our wits about us. "

[lordsrot]

@starlyht ft. sol'rys ❝ easy for you to say. i’m the one getting beat up. ❞

The drow donned but a bruise here and scrapped flesh there. Bleeding just enough that the copper scent lingered in each slow breath he took. Nothing that would threaten the other's safety too severely. Beaten up--- a dramatic claim. Slapped about seemed a more fitting complaint. One which the corpse blood did not see necessary either way. His criticism was instructive, offering a differing approach, not an attempt to jab at Sol'rys’ dexterity. Though if that is what he wished… Agravaine stood finally, towering over the other. Heavy steps carried him with shocking ease as he circled him.

"That is a reflection of your own skills. Consider that a moment." He states plainly, watching the other intuitively from beneath his iron facade, studying the manner he stances himself. Large, clawed hand silently gestured the drow to continue on. "Now, will you try again or continue to whine?”