#windwithinmyveins: ceres

[bloodyarn]

@windwithinmyveins sent

꒰ Ceres tapped her finger on her bottom lip, a sign that the Changeling was once again not really listening to the others and was lost in her own little world, thinking aloud while standing next to Babette. "Is a wizard's spellbook like a cheat sheet for magic exams, or more like a chaotic recipe book where the ingredients sometimes explode?" ꒱

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      𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝘁𝗿𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝘃𝐞𝗿𝘆 𝐡𝐚𝗿𝐝 𝘁𝐨 𝘁𝐚𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝘄𝐢𝘁𝐡 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐞'𝘀 𝐞𝘅𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝘁𝐢𝐨𝐧𝘀 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝘄 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝘄𝐞𝐚𝘃𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝘀 𝐧𝐨𝘁𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝘁𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝘄𝐢𝘁𝐡 𝘄𝐞𝐚𝘃𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝗿𝐚𝐥.    Unfortunately, he lost her since the part he spoke about Mystra. Forked ears twitched in the slightest, tilting her head towards the changeling but keeping her eyes trained on the wizard out of politeness.

     ❝ Definitely a recipe book. In Gale's case, anyway. ❞     Conspiratorially whispering to Ceres, the seamstress hoped their tutor wasn't catching onto the mundane chatter between the two. While a cheat sheet would make for a better comparison, the simple thought of Gale looking up spells like it were ingredients to a stew tickled a chuckle out of the hexblood.

     ❝ Does that make Mystra the leading chef   ? ❞

[powerfought]

@windwithinmyveins asked: After a grueling day, exhaustion gripped the entire party. Ceres plucked a few solitary notes on her lute, not enough to weave a complete melody, all the while keeping a close watch on the Wizard who faithfully prepared their nightly meal. The atmosphere in the camp was somber and draining. If this was to be their final night, before saving the Archdruid and being freed by the tadpoles, should it really conclude on such a melancholic note before they all part ways? With newfound resolve, she straightened herself and began to play her lute, filling the camp with a merry melody, inviting everyone to join in. Her gaze continually returned to Gale, and eventually, she began to dance around him, trying to motivate him to join as she sang along to the spirited tune.

gale’s gaze had long since fixated on the dancing flame before him. fire. it provided warmth, it cooked their meal, and yet despite all of its crude utility, it was also beautiful. so strange. he’d never noticed it before. perhaps it was the dark fate seemingly dangling over their heads, what parts of his mind remained untouched by the illithid tadpole intent on drinking in the joys of the world before turning thrall. 

he was so fixated on his thoughts, it took him several moments before his ears picked up on the lovely tune strummed by ceres’ practiced digits. looking up, he caught her in the midst of a twirl, and he found it impossible not to smile. in an effort to prevent their dinner from burning, he gave a wave of a hand, extinguished the flame, and stood so he might clap along to the beat and encourage her on. he wouldn’t embarrass himself with dancing, but he could at least do this. little did she know, this was exactly what he needed to raise his spirits from the depths of despair they seemed to linger in of late.

once her performance came to a close, the wizard stepped towards her, hands casually clasped behind his back. “that was lovely,” gale said, his eyes briefly scanning the small ragtag collection of fellow infected who were now serving themselves from the stew he’d made. “i’ve not seen this bunch in better spirits. they might not say it, so i will: thank you.” with that, he gestured to the stew pot. “shall we?"

[feuerwizard]

for @windwithinmyveins || cont.

Caleb watched Ceres carefully, his expression unreadable as she spoke. He knew there was more to her than met the eye, more depths hidden beneath a charismatic facade. It had been over a decade since Caleb had last attended any sort of party, and the influx of strangers into their campsite made him feel a bit uneasy. He could sense the buzzing chatter and laughter of the crowd, the clinking of glasses and the wafting aroma of alcohol. Despite his discomfort, he couldn't resist indulging in a few glasses of shitty wine to ease the tension in the air. As the crackling of the fire filled the brief silence between them, Caleb's tone shifted, carrying a note of conviction. “Nein, it’s okay. I want the tadpoles gone as much as you do.”

The human man despised the tadpole, a small but persistent creature that kept him tethered to the group whether he wanted it or not. The thought of his mind being an open book to his fellow members filled him with discomfort and set him on edge. The others were always quick to point out his sour mood, as if they relished in poking at his defenses. Perhaps they were all burdened by the weight of their circumstances, haunted by secrets and uncertainties that threatened to consume them whole. He took a swig from his wine, the liquid burning down his throat.

His mind shifted back to the book, the reason he had initiated this conversation in the first place. He couldn't shake off the dangerous aura that surrounded it, but Caleb was unable to suppress the overwhelming envy he felt towards Ceres’ possession of such potentially powerful arcane knowledge. But Ceres was kind, kinder than the most of the assholes at this camp. For now, Caleb pushed his curiosity aside to show some semblance of decency in return. “You’re doing a good job, being the face of this. I don’t think we would have made it this far without you.”

[stella-sanguis]

@windwithinmyveins sent: “Okay, no, I’m not laughing. Not laughing. Are you okay? That must’ve hurt.” - (Muse of your choice)

" OF course it hurt!! That goblin threw a fucking rock at my head! " He winces, clutching his now pounding head. Oh gods, it feels like he has a black eye. Is his mouth bleeding?

" THANK you so very much for not warning me!! If I end up losing a fang, I'm digging the remaining one right into your neck! "

[oftempestborn]

{@windwithinmyveins liked for a starter}

"Are you all right?" Alluin hadn't even had time to cast disguise self before charging into the fray; without immediate action, the situation might well have proved deadly for more than just their hidden enemies. He could only hope that his hooded cloak, gloves, and long hair were enough to conceal his appearance.

[alittlebitofmuse]

Ceres tapped her finger on her bottom lip, a sign that the Changeling was once again not really listening to the others and was lost in her own little world, thinking aloud while standing next to Halsin and Astarion. "Can a mimic mimic the mimicry of another mimic?"

Halsin blinked. They were debating the option of splitting the party to cover more ground in the Underdark. Her question was so unrelated and oddly phrased that the Archdruid really thought she just said the word "mimic" five times in a row and called it a sentence. He glanced at the other elf for anything to aid his understanding and saw Astarion regarding the changeling with a narrow gaze -- but something like amusement danced behind those crimson eyes.

" --Ceres, darling, the adults are talking, " he said smoothly, " Do at least try to pay attention. "

[aroughtempest]

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜ - Durge!Ceres

@windwithinmyveins ¦ rivals (to lovers?) prompts [accepting]

Gale scoffed but held his tongue. Clearly, Ceres had little experience in the art of conversing with a wizard; they never fall silent. There is a great power in their words. Even when locked away in his tower, Gale loathed the silence and filled it with conversations with his Tressym or often discussions with himself.

Yet, he wanted that tome. A skin-bound book that seemed to ooze knowledge of a new branch of the arcane? Of course it piqued his interest. He thought he was being rather clever, talking about the work of necromancy as if he were an expert, hoping he would be given the tome. It turned out that the very act of just talking was enough to be offered the book.

"About the book? Certainly. However, I can't promise the book itself will remain silent. These sorts of texts are notorious for late-night and unwanted conversations. All the more reason why I should keep it safe with me."

[rubistella]

@windwithinmyveins || continued from x

“If you think that’s going to divert my attention from the issue here, you clearly have plenty to learn still.” Condescending.

One couldn’t simply just play a rogue’s very own cards against him and expect the triumphant effect of a royal flush. Rooting his feet to the ground, Astarion’s arms folded over his chest and he bounced his weight from one leg to the other.

“Well?” Crimson eyes swung from the visibly confused elven gent to the little drow lady. "This is the time you shed some light on what in the hells just happened there, my dear. There will be no visits to the tailor until I hear this."

It took two to tango and Astarion could prove himself to be just as stubborn as Ceres was. If not more.

[so-letspretend]

I wanna run in wide spaces Fly like the wind in high places Rush like water on my face With your hand in my hand I wanna dance into the morning Kiss you like you've never been kissed before me I would go anywhere you wanna go With your hand in my hand

Ceres @windwithinmyveins & my big boy Alexois @so-letspretend

[undyingmedium]

@steel-and-fire @windwithinmyveins

First of all, we were discussing who would be soldier, poet and king in our team, which imo opens a pretty tough debate whether Anika is soldier or king - either can work and have good arguments, but I can't really make up my mind and it's fun to justify it instead of taking the test >:c

Secondly, I can't stop thinking of what's to come in campaign - Kairon got almost killed and kidnapped by the current evil pricks ruling the criminal gang Anika's been after since the previous party existed, so she and Ilori are on their way to get him back and hopefully kick their asses - but then the DM dropped the mic with "I have an idea on a grim thing that would happen if Anika dies" and disappeared from any radar.

Also, last but not least, Anika as companion instead of tav/durge as BG3 character works so marvelously I'm almost considering to make an official page for it on the blog, at least when I'm free from work as well. Are you an artist too, Ceres/Tae-mun? I also have an illustration to work on, I feel your pain

Inspiration and hype unending.

[bloodyarn]

🎲 Changeling! ♥

⚝ 𝕂𝕀𝕊𝕊 ℝ𝕆𝕌𝕃𝔼𝕋𝕋𝔼 ⚝

❥  source

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   25. 𝐀 𝐤𝐢𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝐡𝐚𝘁'𝘀 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝘁.

      𝐍𝐞𝘃𝐞𝗿 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝗿 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝘄𝐨𝘂𝐥𝐝 𝘀𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝘃𝐞 𝐞𝘅𝐩𝐞𝐜𝘁𝐞𝐝 𝘁𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝗿𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝘆.      Not a hero for countries or planes, but for that cozy little Grove they first entered some weeks ago. It filled the hexblood with a new sensation of pride, one she never experienced when stitching someone's shirt back up again. Not when someone told her she did well. This was greater. An excited clapping of hands, quick  &  accompanied by a bright giggle, as she dwells in the praise of Zevlor  &  some of his allies.

Babette was overjoyed about doing the right thing, saving so many lives. When the word 'celebration' fell, and they all decided on taking part in it, the little lady's nerves were all over the place.

Ceres was the poor victim of the seamstress' excitement. She simply stood closer than anyone else. And before the changeling could eventually speak her own excitement or whatnot, she could feel arms already around her, a happy kiss landing on Ceres' lips faster than both of them anticipated.

     ❝ A party   !   Did you hear that   ?   We will have a party at our camp, how exciting   ! ❞     Obviously, the woman did not quite catch up on her own actions. It took . . . about 10 seconds before gears begin to turn and shift.

      ❝ . . . You - . . . Uhm, let's go, okay   ?   No need to strike roots, right   ? ❞     How embarrassing.

[feuerwizard]

@windwithinmyveins asked: "19: sender sits in receivers lap" // 100 nonverbal prompts;; open

The sun had set over Baldur's Gate, casting a warm orange glow across the city. Caleb, exhausted from a day full of tasks and adventure, longed for nothing more than to retire to a cozy seat with a good book. The familiar weight of his spellbook hung on his hip as he made his way through the bustling streets toward their camp. Despite his weariness, the wizard luckily had enough energy left to conjure his tower for his companions this evening.

Once the tower was cast and the rest of his companions retired to their respective rooms (or elsewhere,) the human made himself comfortable upon the plush couch in the salon. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the book he had selected and began flipping through its delicate pages. Frumpkin, curled up by his side, occasionally nudging his hand for attention. As he lost himself in the words on the page, he suddenly felt a gentle weight in his lap, and looked up to find Ceres smiling at him.

A deep blush crept up his cheeks, causing them to glow a bright shade of crimson. He hastily set the book aside, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. With a small cough, he broke the awkward silence that had settled between them. “Hallo… have you come to read with me?”

[rubistella]

@windwithinmyveins || continued

There was a sundry of motives as to why Astarion would bask in the sun— religion ranked remarkably low on that list. Yet under every indirect and freckled light, damp strands iced like buttermilk, curling open where an early spine banked. They stood out and made him godly.

A vampire under the sun and a sight of the divine only differed in its potential for holiness.

Like a self-absorbed beau, Narcissus and Echo, it was unlikely of him to realise he was being watched, but his long nights stalking the empty streets of Baldurs’ Gate made an alley cat out of him. And it was in the rustling leaves of the nearing steps that Astarion could tell just who had approached. Like a signature, there was a trademark sound to every footing. Brutish and careless for Karlach, heavy and dull for Lae’zel, cautious but humane for Shadowheart.

Ceres’ footwork was an enigma.

“Enjoying the view?” Astarion greeted without looking, pale visage still turned to sun in a way shadows would fall behind. “Under different circumstances I wouldn’t be terribly opposed to strike a pose, but in a place like this you’ll have to forgive me for my caution— I hear the gith can be just as good with a crossbow as they excel with a sword in hand.”

At last, his arms lowered and the pale elf wheeled about to lean sideways against a tree, his eyes zeroed in on the little drow lady whose dagger-happy tendencies more than often caught his attention in a positive light.

“I take it you are not here to offer a nibble?”

Astarion tapped into charm with the ease of a man who didn’t care if the abyss stared back and lured him right in.

[alittlebitofmuse]

@windwithinmyveins || continued from here

Halsin made an odd noise in the back of his throat that he quickly covered with a cough while Astarion's face crinkled in distaste.

" ...That is vile. Please don't call me that, " he said, but a quick glance at the Archdruid prompted the spawn to add, " You aren't playing to any of my fetishes. Or you were talking to Halsin--? "

" That is a-- very interesting question, Ceres, " Halsin cut in quickly, hoping some sort of compliance with her question would end this entire conversation, " But perhaps best saved for another time? "

[alittlebitofmuse]

@windwithinmyveins || continued from here

Astarion took the odd vial, sparing only a moment to examine its intricate casing before he looked where Ceres was pointing. How exactly did she know what would happen when he threw the thing--?

Yet he believed her, that this bottle would do something spectacular. He offered her a smirk in acknowledgement before creeping a bit further out onto the beam and chucking the vial at the hobgoblin.

He overshot, and the vial shattered somewhere near the throne of the audience chamber -- behind the hobgoblin instead of in front of him. It hardly seemed to matter, however, as a massive beholder unfurled, drawing the attention of every goblin and creature in the room.

Astarion ducked back into the shadows near Ceres. He spared her a glance, eyes narrowing playfully as he said, " --How utterly devious of you. "

[feuerwizard]

The human listened intently as Ceres opened up, her words painting a tragic picture that made his chest ache in sympathy. Though their pasts differed greatly, he could relate all too well to the feeling of being used for one's magic, of lashing out in desperation, of regretting deeds that could never be undone.

When she finished, Caleb was the first to reach out this time, and gently took one of her hands, unfurling the fist she kept clenching by her side. "You sell yourself short," he said softly. "What was done to you was monstrous. That you survived and kept going is a testament to your strength. The person I see is not imaginary—she is real, and sitting right in front of me."

Or maybe they are both damned, and perhaps, that was okay too.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "We have all both many mistakes, done things we wish we could take back every day. I know I have enough regrets to fill the pages of a dozen spell books." Caleb paused, gazing up at the emerging stars. "Danke, for sharing your story with me. I imagine it was not easy." He looked back at her, his expression strangely open and earnest for the guarded man he portrays himself as to others.

Blue eyes flicked over to the Book of Thay, its cover adorned with intricate symbols and ominous images. He let out a soft sigh, his mind already racing with the possibilities contained within those pages. "I could help you," he offered earnestly, his curiosity piqued by the potential knowledge held within the book. The arcane energy radiating from it was palpable, promising even.

“I want to see it too, ja, but I also want to help you. If you will allow me.”

Ceres tilted her head as Caleb pulled back, surprised by how open he had been. It was a curious evening indeed; she had expected him to evade her questions, but instead, he had shared so much. All it took was someone willing to listen.

Yet, deep down, Ceres wrestled with feeling unworthy of anyone's trust. She sensed the wizard might feel the same. Nothing would change if they all remained in their self-imposed prisons, convinced it was safer that way.

"Really?" Caleb's words caught her off guard. Overwhelmed by the prospect, she struggled to find the words. A force to be reckoned with, she was not easily understood. At least, that's what some people believed.

"Uhm…" She tried to gather her thoughts, briefly holding his arm before retreating, embracing her knees and resting her cheek against them as she turned towards Caleb, avoiding eye contact. "I… was bred. My mother chose my father to produce a very powerful child in her bloodline. I don't know anything about him though…" The back of her neck received a nervous scratch. "It had something to do with the power I could control. But… she couldn't control me. When I became my own person, she tried to extract my power." As she spoke, it felt like reciting a distant tale, detached from any sense of reality. "My blood was turned into crystals… scattered over the centuries. When someone uses them… I feel it. At first, it was excruciating. I sobbed, I vomited, I wished so many times I had the courage to end my life. But over time, it lessened. Now it's just a small itch, like a bug crawling on your skin."

Ceres nodded towards the Book of Thay.

"I wondered if the book knows anything about it. If the crystals have stopped working? What do they do?"

Oh no, she was rambling again.

"Anyway… after the ritual, I killed my mother. The wizard who helped her escaped. With the house now in my name, I tried to find a safe place for the Driders, but Lolth disapproved of my makeshift family. They lost their minds and began to hunt me. I had to kill many of them to escape. People I swore to protect."

Repeatedly, her hand formed a fist and then relaxed.

"I'm not a good person, Caleb. I wish I could be the person you see in me. She must be amazing."