‘  what  do  you  want  for  breakfast?  ’- for karlach

                             morning after starters, accepting .

karlach was feeling lighter than a feather -- which is quite the accomplishment for a 6 foot tiefling barbarian. she could have just stayed basking in this feeling all day, laying in bed, the flames just touching the vents a low blue. she was really only fussing about because her hand reached out to find dronia and hand did not immediately find dronia. eyes open, head leans up a bit. there's a little panic. it's premature though when dronia asks what she wants. karlach's head falls back to the pillow. a relieving breath in. eyes close again with a hum.

" just ... give me a few minutes and i'll come help you. "

"You don't look well, Dronia," It feels like it's more than a lack of sleep, more than the parasite and the stress of everything else. Much of that has been accepted in the last few days, this fate that's been forced upon them. And while the last battle seemed particularly difficult to get through, three ogres demanding they see the branding of the Absolute .... Shadowheart was sure she had checked every one for injuries.

"Do you mind if I have a better look at you?" Shadowheart questioned, stepping closer. She refrains yet from tapping into the tadpole that seemed to allow them glimpses into eachothers' mind. Her own privacy she wanted respected above all, so she would extend the same courtesy here. Still, her hand is extended, familiar cerulean healing magic swirling around it. "Not to boast by any means, but I do know a few spells beyond the functionally restorative ones. Or is this ... something else?"

[ @thcdoomed ]

"What if they kissed?" (why not)

Artemis has to hand it to the warrior standing a few feet away that... she did owe her one. The manner, the material in which they had bound the Goddess, the weapons in which they used—her captors had been capable of mortally wounding her if they struck at just the right moment. If Dronia had been even a moment later than when she had befell the Olympian, she would surely be in much dire straits than now.

The brunette pauses to wipe golden ichor-blood from the gash on her cheek. It stings—a sensation nearly foreign after so long. It was not often she could be truly wounded.

"I must offer you my thanks," Artemis says, and carefully takes the warrior's face in her hand. She brings them together until their lips meet, and it is with this that Dronia feels a surge of power and euphoria. On Artemis' lips sat her own blood, bizarrely sweet in contrast to a human sample, but also extremely potent and powerful when consumed.

Her silver gaze settles on Dronia to survey her reaction. "You are a formidable warrior."

@thcdoomed asked [ LAST LIGHT. ] For our muses to rest together at the Last Light Inn. - for Shadowheart

“I never thought that I would miss sleeping in a bed so much,” Shadowheart said with a content sigh. It seemed like everything might end up working out. The Tieflings were safe, they had a chance that they might be able to fix this. With as minimal death and destruction as possible.

❝ can I pet ya' raven ? ❞ her voice is hushed, earnest with respect. hands worrying shyly in front of her, shade fixes the other ranger with a hopeful gaze. she'd never had a companion of her own; the shadow-cursed lands were no place for animals, as much as she had wanted for a friend to traverse them with. the idea of a bird, especially a raven, as a hunting partner was novel to her.

she was almost envious... but with a gentleness; if she could not have an animal at her side then she would shower the companions of other rangers with all that she felt they were due, scritches and treats included, should their masters oblige.

@thcdoomed liked for a starter

@thcdoomed from [x]

Ystin is loathe to admit it, but immortality has certainly made them less aware of when to take wounds seriously. While wounds can kill them, obviously none of them have yet, and Ystin has gotten used to shrugging things off for the most part.

They wince, hissing through their teeth as the alcohol hits the wound. "I felt that," they say with a breathy chuckle. "Go for it, my lady, I trust my friends."

comforting

this meme , @thcdoomed , accepting .

there is a part of karlach that will always feel so immensely guilty that she still ... hurts sometimes. physically , but more so emotionally. like here she is with quite a few things that she has always wanted. a caring partner. a tavern and a mini farm. a man that works out in the forge just because he decided sticking around two people he adores was the best option. there is so much love gathered here. as she wanted.

... but sometimes she still gets distant with a thousand-yard stare. she'll still never get back the things stolen from her.

there's a baby goat just gently prodding at her legs, walking around her, being so trusting and curious. it's what jumpstarts her back to the present, it especially works when the goat yells absolutely signifying that dronia has made an appearance. it's maybe then that she noticed she was crying. only because tears have this weird sticky feeling when they're drying. karlach tries playing it off by one large hand wrapping around the goat and the other pressing at a couple of her metal holes.

they did ache though. metal pieces don't get relieved like muscles though. pressing against them doesn't do much.

. Camp was both comforting and not, as nothing truly felt comforting right now. The inability to simply ignore the situation or leave it crawled under his skin. The people he had been forced to work with seemed to be in similar spirit- displeased to be here, displeased to work with someone they didn't know. But none of them could find a good reason not to work as a group.

. "All's well?" He asked, unsure of what else to ask the woman. "Not everyone likes facing trolls." He did, but he could at least tell Shadowheart hadn't been fond of the experience.

@thcdoomed got a starter from x

@thcdoomed activated the (!) dialogue (!).

" The course that had been prepared this evening, it was much preferred than that broiling concoction that was prepared earlier in the day." Brow perk with a small smile offered, "With that said I must admit, I am impressed, surface food is often poorly, flavorless - and when compared to the Baenre banquets of my former home. I am most often in left unimpressed, grieved almost - but not tonight."

They had made a habit of meeting up before bed and just talking until they grew too tired to keep the conversation going. The two had grown close since meeting, finding a companionship they both so desperately needed in one another. So it's odd when Dronia is nowhere to be seen when the time for their nightly chat comes. The others had already drifted off and Dronia was exceedingly late in showing up.

It was after dinner that Dronia first felt it, a gnawing in her stomach, a pain in her teeth and gums, a dark cloud over her mind. Some of those symptoms... wasn't it how Gale had explained ceremorphosis? Without thought, her instincts told her to get as far away from the others as she could. Keep them safe, safe from her. Whatever was happening, it felt like a threat. || for karlach

in retrospect, waiting exactly 5 minutes probably isn't long at all but dronia's always been timely for this ... thing. whatever it really is. friendship. one of the first people she's ever been able to sit down and have a conversation with. at least without any of the side effects : being used, manipulated, coerced. or without the jarring sounds of a battle around them. normal conversations in a normal setting. just to conversate.

karlach moves, snake-like orange-red eyes scanning the darkness. the only real difference between a human and a tiefling. tieflings can see better in the dark. but they aren't truly all that different. whatever, not important, it's probably at least 10 minutes of walking around before karlach spots the human. a pause. leaning on her toes to control her excitement. she does this little speech in her head too.

" hey soldier ... " karlach just calls out, softly and kindly from a distance. a pause. " dronia. " another pause.

" is something wrong? "

@thcdoomed requested a starter from FENYX (BG3 AU)!

As soon as she stumbled through the portal, Fenyx realised that this was different. Before, the portals would lead to bright places tinged with an edge of gold and a thrill of being temporarily in a new place to explore. To take the edge off of the Atlas-level weight currently forced onto her shoulders. Never before had a portal made her vision blur and her ears ring and hit her so much so with the realisation that this was so very different.

Never before had a portal closed behind her.

"No! Wait! Hermes!" She cried out, whirling around with a hand to her head, trying to grasp at the last sparks of magic as they faded away. A look of horror adorned her face as she looked around at quiet roadside beside her. Tears stung at her eyes but she forced her chin up to keep them in.

"No, Fenyx, keep it together. You've just got to find a way to open it again. Maybe the magic is right here and you just need a big, great portal-opener and you can be home and Typhon absolutely won't be destroying everything in the meantime."

She bent over for a moment, heels of palms pressed into her eyes until she finally felt eyes on her. With a gasp she immediately straightened, chest out and back straight - trying to look immediately confident again and definitely not scared and lost.

Then it hit her.

Another person.

Even in these other realms it had just been her. Hermes always waited on the Golden Isle and everyone else was stone or actual statues or demi-gods rather more focussed on the monsters Typhon was sending their way.

But no, there was someone here. Watching her. Fenyx couldn't help but stare back until she finally realised she was staring.

"Sorry, I'm...well I'm very lost. And I haven't seen an actual person in too long. I didn't mean to stare." An awkward but pleasant smile was given as she assessed if this person was a threat or not. It would be just her luck to be stuck through a portal and already onto hostile ground.

❤️‍🩹  to  find  my  muse  trying  to  hide  an  injury.

The day was long and scorching, and it was only now that the hot sun was beginning to descend over the horizon. Dronia and Artemis had been walking for some time—a leisurely but constant pace, trudging one foot over the other while the Goddess seemed to navigate the endless jungle with apparent confidence that Dronia's party had already passed through here. It was uncharacteristically quiet between them today—Artemis was not jabbing or teasing the other woman, but rather focused on the path ahead of them, sweat collecting at her forehead and collar.

This is only interrupted by the catch of a long, tangled root on her foot. Artemis stumbles and falls to her knees, a cry of pain ripping free from her lips. She grabs at her flank, concealed by the dark cloak shrouding her figure. When she lifts her hand, liquid gold stains it, a beautiful but haunting sight. What had wounded her that she was not able to heal from? How would she fare like this?

"I am fine," Artemis insists sharply, her hand flattened as if to enforce an invisible wall between them. "Let us continue."

@thcdoomed liked for a starter

"I WONDER ... " Nashira spoke loudly , sentence trailing off into the nothingness as she pondered. There was a curious look on her face , eyes turned over to the other — observing. "Is it possible we could share a family?" Their appearances were quite uncanny where they could be mistaken as twins , but as far as Nashira knows , she knows naught of those who shares her blood. BEING AN ORPHAN.

🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful 🌺

"Why is it that whenver we are sent to handle something," he begins, wiping the bottom of his boot on the still-bleeding corpse of the Kuo-Toa. Pathetic little aquatic humanoids. Disgusting. "We end up wading through shit and guts to get what we need. Fish folk, of all things. I still think they would've been far more useful had we their faith and idiotic fealty, but that is just me."

@thcdoomed liked for a small thing. not accepting.

WAX POETIC

Send ‘wax poetic’ for Gale to work some poetry; his muse is you: still accepting.

Gale doesn't delight in being anything less than dependable. No, he has to be wicked. Or rather, at least a storm. However, when his bones do ache and when his sinew burns, when the crawling of his flesh tears foul with blight, it's a relief, he confesses, to know he can stumble. The ground will not meet him; he'll plunge no abyss.

He hisses with injury, Dronia once more guiding him along. Rain spills from the skies, thunder chittering with bitterness in the chill of the night, but he, unalone, will little complain.

No, ever is she stalwart. And always is she true. And Gale, waist rent, thinks you've struck me more than once like our northernmost star might, the cradle of your side I would find unfailing. Carefully, his friend finds cover within a spring-sprawled thicket, and gingerly, she lowers the dear wizard to the flowers beneath. See? She is something, a pillar with whom he'd always place his trust. She peels at his robes, hands careful as they study his geysering, rubied wound, and with you, there's no shadow I can't endure. No shadowy midnights. No spiteful gods.

Dronia fashions him, touch too kind. If I'm to trust nothing else, it would be you. Behind the grey skies, Polaris glimmers.