@2wanlake: sword of moons ( sender wakes up to discover the receiver pressing a blade against the sender's throat )

no one ever spoke of the torment that was waiting for someone to come to, but it was a subject of which shade was intimately familiar. he'd tried all the usual tricks - smelling salts, flicking her with water, even recounting old war stories in an attempt to bore her awake. everything with the exception of true love's kiss, and the idea that his true love might be an unconscious solicitor was much too disturbing to stomach. shade was seconds away from subjecting the girl to his musical prowess - pavia had set his bagpipes ablaze after only a few notes; there were still scorch marks on a few of the reeds - when at last she wakes. by the time her eyelids flutter open, revealing stunned irises the color of forest moss, he was already crouched beside the chaise with a blade to her throat.

❝ easy - one move and this dagger slices right through that pretty neck of yours. ❞ if she was searching for the portal from which she came, she'd have no such luck. the moment he'd found her, a tangle of limbs in the center of the room, he had ferried them away to one of his safe houses. the last thing he needed was that weasel gareth discovering the breach and taking word of his incompetence to the guild. a second passes, then another. if she was going to attempt a hasty escape, she would have done so the moment she woke to an armed stranger hovering at her side. which made her both very wise and tremendously foolish. ❝ good girl. i loathe physical violence - so uninspired. ❞ sheathing his dagger, he rises to his feet, dusts himself off. the cabin's upkeep left much to be desired. ❝ now, tell me: what do you remember? ❞ one little enchantment and he could send her on her way none the wiser.

upon his desk lies a small, navy velvet box. inside sits a glimmering sapphire ring in a platinum setting, small diamonds speckled throughout the thick band like constellations. the note attached reads: it made me think of you. - nour

at first blush, he mistakes the box for one of his own. navy velvet was his signature, the sudden appearance of an ornate box in one's home a tell-tale sign that shade everhart had recently roamed its halls - that, and the lingering scent of clove and spice on the air. but this was no forgotten parcel, nor the expected gala invitation or court summons he was used to finding on his desk. the card catches his eye and he summons it on a phantom breeze, likely more dumbfounded than he should be. for all his renowned generosity, shade couldn't remember the last time someone had given him anything. but this - he scans the elegant script, the effortless scrawl of someone quite accustomed to signing their name. well, he certainly hadn't been expecting that.

an interesting development. as if this were something he ought to be seated for, shade slowly lowers himself into his chair, staring at the box as long as he could before curiously overrode all reverence. snatching it from the center of the desk, he flicks open its lid and - his heart catches. a sapphire the size of an acorn, encased in a band of platinum. he draws it from the box and holds it skyward, diamond stars twinkling under the faelight. it was real - not that it mattered. it was already his new favorite. holding his breath, he slips it over his knuckle, nestling the band into place before holding out his hand to admire it. it looked right at home among the dragon's hoard of jewels adorning his fingers.

fingers that immediately spring into action, gathering a bit of parchment and his favorite fountain pen. in looping silver script, he jots down a note of his own. like hers, it's brief and straight to the point. unlike hers, he leaves it unsigned.

meet me tonight? i'd like to thank you in person.

then he rises from his seat, striding across the room to where one of his familiars dutifully waits. shade strokes the rabbit's soft fur, his rings brushing gently against its velveteen ears. with a translucent thread of magic, he secure the note to its paw. ❝ for nour, ❞ he instructs, and he could have sworn the creature rolled its indigo eyes as if to say who else? before vanishing into a cloud of smoke.

@shadowbrn ft. astarion: maybe i'd like to get to know you better.

❝ is that right? ❞ for one indulgent moment, he plays into the his hand, dipping his gaze low to drink him in with false rapture. to his credit, astarion is a perfectly adequate seductor. night after night, he's watched him prowl the dance floor like an assassin marking his prey, working the room with preternatural magnetism, leaving with hoards of admirers on his arm. shade had a strict policy against solicitors, against anyone with the cheek to conduct business in his place of business, but he'd let the boy have his fun - that is, until he dared tread too close to someone who would undoubtedly be missed.

still, shade was nothing if not discreet. he'd summoned the spawn to the owner's box for some tough love - and he had the audacity to think he could flirt his way out of a reprimanding? the gall - he practically invented the manuever! ❝ a valiant attempt, but i am far too old and jaded to fold for a few pretty words from a pretty face. ❞ he gives him a consoling pat on the shoulder - as if to say nice try though - before directing his attention to a pretty wood elf dancing in the throng below. ❝ your latest conquest? she's the upper city's latest society darling. the tabloids would be beside themselves, should their favorite headline-maker disappear under mysterious circumstances. ❞

@maimedaffair ft. orin: whatever has led you here to me, there is destiny in its making.

those empty, hollowed out eyes. that wide, razor sharp grin. orin the red was terror incarnate. it was humbling in a way, to know that even he, who had tamed eldritch horrors and out-witted devils, was not entirely immune to fear. and it was by design. she was a weapon forged in the cradle of death, weened on blood and brutality until her lust for carnage rivaled that of bhaal himself. as far as morality went, shade was clever enough to turn the other cheek, should his livelihood remain untampered with. but a dead halfling, in the middle of his club? there were some things he simply could not abide.

❝ well then! i hope destiny will pardon the interruption. ❞ something had in fact led him here, but he suspected destiny played less of a hand than tireless, wrought iron determination. despite her tendency to pop up when least expected, she was not an easy soul to track down. the changeling did love a game, and she'd been slipping through his fingers for weeks. she was toying with him, that much was apparent, making him chase her around the city in a manner most undignified for someone of his caliber. but he could play along - for now. ❝ you're looking lovely as ever, orin. that particular shade of crimson really brings out your eyes. ❞

@literare ft. danika: oh, great. more of your very eloquent bullshit.

❝ you fendyrs never could appreciate a good story. ❞ he clicks his tongue in disapproval, then gestures to the mixologist for another round of whatever the shifter is having. if she was anything like her grandfather, a bit of imbibing would make quick work of those jagged edges. ❝ i was merely setting the scene. ❞ precious hours and resources had gone into compiling this batch of intel - the least she could do was let him have a little fun. letting a long, torturous silence linger between them, he dangles the proverbial carrot until certain of his captive audience. ❝ now, where was i? ❞

✿

pre-established relationship meme

friendship. childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

romance. childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

familial.   siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

antagonistic.   dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

@bu11seye: i’ve always longed for a night like this. it’s something out of a dream.

❝ is it? ❞ the question lacks the lilt of mystery he'd grown to associate with his own voice. a ponderous moment later, and he recognizes the feeling as genuine curiosity. what a marvel, shade thinks, to see the empire - his home - through another's lens, through someone who's only just laid eyes on it for the first time. falling gravely silent, he places himself in her shoes, gazing upon the gilded city with eyes untainted by centuries of indifference.

beneath the glass bridge where they stood, the strait ran far and wide, a pulse rippling through the heart of the city and beyond. behind them, the bright lights of the pleasure district, his club the brightest of them all. fae of all shapes, sizes, and species reveled in the streets, heads thrown back in worship, soaking up the moon. and, bearing down on the horizon, high above it all, was the royal palace, its twisting golden spires disappearing into the night sky.

❝ i suppose it is. i confess, it's been a long time since i felt that way. ❞ and it's rather embarrassing to admit - that someone who prides himself on surrounding himself with beautiful things could so easily forget the wonder in the ordinary. ❝ it is too easy to tire of one's surroundings, to gorge oneself on beauty until even the most lustrous of sights grow dull. ❞

@chth0nia: ability check - nature ( 2 )

dusk falls - or so he can imagine, the evening skies blotted out in entirety by the lush canopy of trees overhead. it did little to improve the air of claustrophobic unease this encounter had evoked thus far, and shade had a feeling it was by design. the woman of the woods was a master of her craft. just as he had shaped his own kingdom in his image, so, it seemed, had she. living up to her name - earthshaker, they whispered, maker of mountains, sculptor of streams - the realms themselves seemed to quake with each passing step, the very vines that restrained him wrapping oh-so-lovingly around her ankles - as if expecting a treat.

❝ the restraints are hardly necessary, my lady. ❞ he moves to sketch a low bow, though his sentient shackles clearly have something against politeness. very well - he'll dispense with the platitudes. ❝ rumor has it you can sense the intent of any being to step foot in these woods. ❞ little truth could be gleaned about the forest's fated sleeper, whose command over these woods survived some of the realm's most ancient bloodlines. most of what he'd gathered was fact made fiction, the sort of bedtime stories told to frighten children into eating their greens ... but even the tallest of tales harnessed a bit of truth, didn't they? ❝ surely you can sense that mine carry no hint of malice. ❞

@volchtsa ft. nesta: you look like you've been kicked through a charity shop.

of all the ways she could have wounded him, this living blade of a girl had forgone every minor abrasion and cut straight to the bone. to imply that his aesthetic choices were anything short of immaculate ... he had slaughtered legions for less! every instinct urges him to reach for his power, to demonstrate just how little tolerance he had for the sharp tongued, but this fledgling fae was strictly off limits. cauldron damn the lord of night and his whole royal family. ❝ i imagine i'm quite different to the mortal men you're used to. ❞ he gives her his most insipid smile, his words cocooned in cloying sweetness. it was a tone reserved for guild summits and political endeavors - a way to parry attacks without dirtying one's hands. ❝ for instance, i'm able to walk and breathe at the same time. ❞

@ametisa: what does that say about whoever killed them?

❝ isn't it obvious? ❞ given the context, the coy twist of his mouth may be slightly uncouth, but time and circumstance has numbed him to such horrors. careful not to soil his velvet slippers, he steers his companion away from the carnage, mindful of being overheard. moreso than usual, the lower city was crawling with fist, ever so keen to haul one off to wyrm's rock for breathing the wrong way. ❝ this was clearly a crime of passion - albeit not in the traditional sense. look at those markings. ❞ indeed, the culprit had taken their time with this one, sketching each ritualistic rune with an alarming sort of tenderness. a love letter to the god of murder, inked in candy apple red. ❝ seems our culprit is a man of faith. ❞

@serendpitous ft. nour: crown of midnight ( sender dances with the receiver at a masquerade )

dancing and disguises, glitter and glamour - no one does masquerade quite like the fae. tonight, the royal palace is alive with intrigue, and the ballroom practically reeks of his mother's vision - or rather, the gaggle of servants she'd ordered to carry it out. if this were any other night, shade would have had to goad himself into attending, his aversion to court vastly outweighing his love of extravagant revels. indeed, the elysian castle was no friend to him, but having grown up within its gilded walls, shade was well versed in playing pretend.

plus, he'd seize any opportunity to don a mask.

never one to dance at a party that wasn't his own, he roams the ballroom relatively unbothered, albeit unimpressed. until a hush falls over the crowd of attendees, and he follows their sea of gazes towards the latest couple to take to the dance floor. one of them was his brother, wearing a mask of his signature white and gold - which explained why every noblewoman of marriageable age seemed to be holding their breath. as for his partner? even under the shroud of anonymity, he would recognize her dancer's grace anywhere.

only because this revel is starving for controversy, he reasons after a song or two, stepping on to the dance floor and setting his sights on the pair. his justifications are belief by the time he dips into a reverent bow, fact as he extends a gloved hand in invitation. wren, to his credit, just looked delighted to be approached by his brother - even if it was to steal his dance partner.

as they take to the floor, one hundred sets of eyes are on them - the lady the prince had asked to dance, and the gentleman with the brazenness to cut in. they ought to be mortified, ought to be flushing red behind their ornate masks ... thankfully, neither had any opposition to staring. besides, they only had eyes for each other. ❝ i hope you'll forgive the interruption, my lady. ❞ his voice, a silken caress against her ear. such a familiar gesture, yet he gives no indication to knowing her identity, just as she hasn't given any indication to knowing his. tonight, they are merely players in the idiosyncrasies of court, embodying their respective roles with each effortless step. ❝ i merely thought a rescue was in order. my brother may be charming, but he's a terrible dancer. ❞

@dustwife: it always makes a fraction of sense to be careful what you wish for.

friendly advice, or a threat? it was so difficult to tell the difference these days, what with the gossamer veil of diplomacy draped shakily over their respective territories. he would be lying - if he were able to do such a thing - if he said that being at court, even as an invited guest of the crown prince, doesn't set him atrociously on edge. thankfully, shade was no stranger to politics, his royal adjacent upbringing cultivating an interest in power - namely, how to get it - from a young age. he simply preferred to play courtier within the walls of his own kingdom, a goblet of sparkling wine in hand. ❝ why waste precious time wishing, when i already have everything i want? ❞ it was a question he'd asked himself many a time, which made it both truth and untruth. as if he could ever stop wanting. as if he didn't spend every waking moment aching for more. ❝ do you speak from experience, lady rahl? ❞

@arghent: you seem like a useful person to know.

❝ a quick study - we like that around here. ❞ tossing a set of keys in her direction, he leans against the side of the building, sizing her up with eagle-eyed interest. from the grave set of her brow - a jarring contrast to the otherwise neighborly tone of their interaction - to the suspicious stain on her boots; could be blood, could be borscht. he had known her kind before. geldstraat born but just as hungry as a common barrel rat, all too willing to gnaw off a limb to escape the creature comforts of their old lives - of legacies for which they had no love lost. transplants, shade called them, though he had heard much unkinder names thrown around the barrel. they could make invaluable allies - or formidable foes. ❝ welcome to the neighborhood, allison argent. if you need anything - and i mean anything - i'm only a knock away. ❞

@draconisa: sometimes absence is more powerful than presence.

❝ i prefer to take a more active role in tormenting my adversaries. ❞ a wicked grin touches his lips as he fastens a silver pin to his collar, the everhart crest shining brilliantly against his midnight blue lapel. the infamous heart-in-ellipse did not carry the time-tested weight of other signets, did not boast of family trees that could be traced back thousands of years. as the first and only of his name, it was worn by shade and shade alone. it was, to his endless delight, a topic of much discourse among the elite - the turmoil a mere hunk of metal could cause! ❝ far be it from me to question your methods. ❞ but question he does, for he has much to gain in doing so. the idea of walking into the gala with the heir to the targaryen dynasty on his arm was just too delicious to resist. ❝ just imagine the fun we could have. drinking, dancing, terrorizing certain board members - it's not too late to change your mind. ❞

@anqael: care to explain why you're helping me?

❝ are all nephilim so mistrusting? ❞ toying with the rim of his glass, he fixes his companion with a raised brow. he couldn't help but notice that hers remained decidedly untouched. clearly she had been fed warnings about the dangers of faerie food and drink, a myth that shade, as a purveyor of fine wines, found wildly offensive. and though there was nothing inherently wrong with a dash of healthy skepticism - he'd seen empires rise and fall over a bit of fine print - this individual held herself a special sort of guardedness, as if bracing for an incoming blow - a far cry from the other celestials he'd encountered. ❝ i suppose i've always had a soft spot for the underdog, ❞ he confesses, setting his glass aside. ❝ and from the breadcrumb trail of information you've deigned to relay, it sounds like you could use all the help you can get. ❞

@mortange: i’ve never seen a pearl like this one.

❝ hm? oh, i suspect you wouldn't, this far north. ❞ the pearl in question - one of several charmingly displayed in an iridescent clam shell - was indigenous to the southern isles. while they were abundant in undersea territories, the mer had a habit of hoarding the most valuable finds for themselves. ❝ a gift, from the queen of the nautilus court. undoubtedly a bribe - i helped one of her sons out of a faulty marriage contract a few decades back. ❞ he gives armand a conspiratorial wink, strolling across his chambers to stand at the vampire's side. every trinket in this room had a story - from the crystal chandelier suspended high above their heads, right down to the myriad of jewels splayed across his fingers. ❝ but who am i to turn down a bauble? especially one so exquisite. ❞