[Sandbox] Onyx Prairie - Western Quarter

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Velvet Smoke
Date | Time: November 12th | Late Morning (~11:45am)
Location: Western Quarter -
Wearing: Sweater, long skirt, knit cap, boots
Tagging | Mentioning: Meena |
Subtly grimacing at herself, it didn’t seem like her attempt at humor to lighten the mood went over nearly as well as she had hoped. Was this just doomed to be an awkward, unfortunate conversation? At least if she knew about that ahead of time she could prepare and accept that for what it was. Her knife ran through the filet easily until it got to the skin where the blade caught but quickly and smoothly tore through. Maybe more eager than she planned she picked up the square of fish and shoved it, fork and all, into her mouth. Just in time for Meena to say her name. She looked up like she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and blinked slowly. Her eyes shifted this way and that and as slowly and inconspicuously as she could manage, Velvet pulled the fork from her mouth. The fish stayed though. “Listening.” She said around the bite, trying to be as graceful about it as possible.

Oh, the lemon! The fish all but melted in her mouth. It was a treat.

As Meena started, Velvet felt like she was on the same page. Though she had never dated, Velvet actually did know what it was like to be in love. It was unrequited, but that hadn’t made her feelings any less true. And it had taken time to happen. In fact, the idea that someone could simply fall in and out of love quickly was baffling to her. While she wasn’t one to judge, she did suspect that what those people were feeling wasn’t actually love. So she nodded in understanding. Subtly, she moved to try and cut another square of fish. Where Meena did start to lose her was that these were different things - she didn’t specify, but Velvet knew what she was talking about. Velvet couldn’t imagine wanting to do that with someone you didn’t love.

Her knife scratched the plate, and her ears went flat. “Sorry.” She slipped the knife under the filet and the fork atop it, abandoning it again for now so that Meena could have her undivided attention.

The idea of dating multiple people seemed… Foolish. That seemed like a great way for someone’s feelings to get hurt. But what did she know? Maybe Meena had a point. She pondered it, while listening. It was certainly a casual approach to dating, and not something that she would have ever considered naturally on her own. You didn’t need to have sex with people to get to know them. Even though none had gone where she wanted them to go, did everyone she had gotten to know feel the same way? But, she did her best to remain open minded to the idea.

Of course what she was hearing as Meena continued was that she wanted to sample her. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Velvet followed Meena’s gaze down to her cracked crab legs. Her lips parted, but shut again quickly as these truths about her and Marlowe came forward. “It seems pretty complicated.” She said.

Velvet rubbed her thumbs against her forefingers, and then went back to eating. She was quiet, processing, while she cut into another chunk of the fish. But this one she didn’t immediately go to eat, and again - kinda loudly this time - set her utensils against the plate. “So you want to get to know me. You want to… Date. Me. Like you date Marlowe. And see where it goes?”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: Light blue dress with golden embellishments, dark blue sash
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir |

Lyra smiled up at him as he assured her things were fine. A small part of her worried that he would have been upset for kissing him like that, but another part desperately hoped he had wanted it just as much as she had. And in truth, he had. She let out a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a moment. “I am… glad. It is a happy memory for me, despite the circumstances from which it was born.”

She felt safe in his arms, his warmth enveloping her in a gentle embrace. Feeling his head against her own, Lyra nestled further against his chest, content at their closeness. But still, something felt incomplete. She hadn’t quite said it earlier, and he hadn’t quite said it now, but what exactly was… this? This thing between them? She opened her eyes, turning her head slightly so her cheek was pressed against his chest and she stared off into the darkness beyond him. What did she even want it to be? She had said she loved him on the bridge, but did she mean it? Listening to him speak was calming, in a way, but also nerve wracking. His voice was tender and sweet, but his words brought worries with them. Worries that he might not feel the same and worries that perhaps, her words had also been from desperation or fear.

All too soon, his warmth was lost to her, and for a moment, she began to panic. Worry was etched into every inch of her face, looking up at him as he stepped back and released her. “Azir…” She let her eyes flutter shut and leaned into his hands as they cupped her face, pressing her cheek against one. She lifted a hand to lay against the one of his she was leaning against, opening her eyes to gaze into his green ones.

Hearing him speak made her heart pound harder in her chest, and it made one thing clear to her. She did love him. Those words she spoke on the Needlepass weren’t born from desperation, nor from a place of fear of what might have been. She truly did care for him, and even if she had never felt like that before, what else could it have been but love for him? Her lips curved upwards in a shaky smile, the corners of her eyes filling with unshed tears. “Te amo, etiam, Azir… Te amo.”

Lyra reached up to his face with her other hand, gently cupping his cheek in a similar fashion, her thumb caressing his cheek softly. “Volo ut invenio tecum ut bene.” She released his hand, reaching up to cup his other cheek and gently pull his face down towards her. She went slow, her intentions clear, but giving him the chance to turn away if this was not what he wanted. She wasn’t forcing him, but she dearly wanted to express with actions what her words were failing to convey right at that moment. She wanted to show him just how much he meant to her.

When they had first met, there had been some mutual interest shared between them, but it was little more than that. The more time they spent together, the more those feelings had compounded on one another. They were so strange, so foreign, yet pleasant all the same. Could she really have fallen in love in such a short amount of time? She thought so. And even if this wasn’t truly love, it was pretty damn close to it. No one else made her feel the way that Azir did. Not completely.

If he didn’t pull away from her, Lyra let her lips press against his in a soft kiss. Her hands fell away from his face, trailing gently down his neck as she slid her arms around it, drawing him in even closer as she deepened the kiss. It started off as something chaste, sweet, and tender, full of emotion but lightly dancing across, exploring newfound feelings. The longer it went on, the more passionate it became, letting her eyes flutter close as she focused on the taste of him on her lips. That spark in the pit of her stomach became a flame, burning red-hot. She couldn’t get enough of his warmth, his touch, his lips. Before, on the Needlepass, time was of the essence. Their first kiss together was full of emotion and passion, but over all too soon. However, tonight, they had all the time in the world to explore each other and Lyra was offering herself to him to take freely.

[Crash]

Character Name: Meena Tor
Date | Time: 11.12 | ~11:45am
Location: Western Quarter Restaurant
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Velvet
The more Meena talked, the more she sensed that maybe she shouldn’t be.  She wasn’t upset that Velvet had returned to her meal, but the longer her thoughts tumbled out of her mouth, the less Velvet was enjoying herself. Meena knew that was her fault.

The sudden scratch of the knife made Meena wince inwardly, but she tried to wave off the noise and gather her thoughts. “You don’t have to apologize. I think I am just really bad at this. My culture is different, and I am trying to…adjust…I guess,” Meena said. It doesn’t matter.”

When Meena said it wasn’t complicated, well, it wasn’t.  Not until now, anyway. Or maybe it still wasn’t. She had sort of gotten the answer to why Velvet hadn’t asked her out.  So that was probably that.  As her Grandmother Ansi used to say, “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.” She had wanted to know.  Now she did.

“It wasn’t. Until now,” Meena admitted.  The thought that she might have hurt Velvet’s feelings even a tiny bit didn’t sit well.  “I’m sorry you thought I wasn’t interested in going on a date.  I was.  I am.  But I understand why you didn’t ask.  I can see how it might look that way.  I didn’t mean for you to think it was a passing interest. I am sorry.”

The sound of Velvet’s fork meeting plate left a sinking feeling in Meena’s stomach. Her eyes widened when Velvet spoke.  “OHHH…nononono…I didn’t mean it like that!  There is no requirement…or expectation? Or…oh wow…noooo,”  Meena waved her hands like crazy. “Did you think I meant we had to…if we?  Because no…we don’t.”  Meena’s face warmed with embarrassment, utterly crestfallen at the path she had led them down.  Trying to salvage anything from the conversation, Meena put her hands on the table and pushed her slouching form upright.

“I am soooo sorry about all of this. I just didn’t understand why you never asked. Now I do; thank you for explaining it to me,” Meena said, trying to find a center that seemed to have pirouetted down the block and around the corner.

“I like you.  I think about you all the time. When I thought the Nevermore had…” Meena shook her head to clear the fear that had gripped her when the massive Hollow had crashed into the forward group, knowing Velvet could have been hurt and being able to do nothing about it. “...I was so scared that you had been hurt. That I wouldn’t see you again…” Meena paused again to look at the diminutive woman with those flicking cat-like ears swiveling towards her. 

“I felt like I might have missed my chance at…something more. So, if you ever want to ask me out, the answer is yes.  I would love to go on a date with you. It would make me deliriously happy,” Meena was never one to hide her feelings, and she wouldn’t stop doing that now. “But it doesn’t matter if I want to go on a date if it makes you uncomfortable. And I never want to make you feel that way.  Ever.”

It was Meena’s turn to fall quiet.  She picked up a crab leg in one hand, a chunk of fluffy white meat puffed from one end. She turned it over in her hand, looking for a place to jab a finger or a seam to peel.  An eyebrow raised as she pondered the armored delicacy while she waited for Velvet to say…well…anything, really.

“Do I really hit this with the hammer?” No small amount of curiosity with a hint of mischief colored her voice.

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Haim -> Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir | Haim, Auguste, Ocareena Meena, Velvet, Artanis, Mockery
”Got me another room ta visit. So…” She moved over to the nightstand - farther than an arm’s reach away due to all of the machinery needed nearby to stabilize Haimehen - and set down the cup of hot chocolate. ”Cannot see it on account of the lid, but there be extra extra marshmallows,” she explained, taking a step back. She lingered at the doorframe and placed her hands in the pockets of her skirt as she looked at Haim’s unconscious form. Several seconds dragged past before she turned wordlessly on her heel.

She had hoped to see Auguste and extend her sympathies. She had even dressed up for it. Haim wasn’t gone, but Farrah understood that his life would never be the same. The boy might be alive, but she knew that both he and Auguste would be laying a part of who Haimehen was to rest if some miracle allowed him to wake up. Despite everything that had happened, Haimehen was an Elf. They were too few for Farrah to not support his recovery. Did Auguste have a community of elves to help him through this difficult time? Again, Farrah found herself thinking of Ocareena and her mission to unite the elves.

She might have thought more about it, but as she stepped into the entryway of Artanis’ room, she was surprised to find someone else already there. She raised a hand to knock on the wall and alert to her presence, but Azir was already turning. Farrah smiled.

She wasn’t self-conscience, but she was aware that her normal athletic attire was very different from her current homely ensemble. It was old school elven with its floral embroidery and wood-carved beads, calling back to a time when elves were stewards of the landscape rather than dwindling survivors of it. The modest outfit hinted that Farrah was more than the loud-mouthed brute people saw in the classroom; she had taken off her Squire hat and put on her Elven one. No flexing arms, tight abs, or toned thighs on display. Even with the shield strapped to her back, the traditional, everyday attire was respectful and quiet for the serious occasion.

Even if Farrah wasn’t.

”Lookin’ ta put Velvet outta her misery?” She knew that he was not the right audience for such teasing, but the off-color joke drew attention away from her outfit and let him know that a change of clothes didn’t change much about her. She moved to stand next to him to join him in contemplating Artanis.

”Meena said what he done did fer her.” She pointed to the neatly wrapped box sitting on the nightstand. ”She been by already. Fixed up his weapons ‘n replaced the arcanite fer ‘im so he got one less thing ta worry ‘bout when he wakes up. ‘n she gimme this cream fer…” There were so many wounds in so many places. It probably didn’t matter where she smeared it. Bandages covered so much of him. ”Ta help with the healing.” She pulled the little container out of her pocket. Far too little, she realized.

”His family come by yet?”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra |
There wasn’t even that initial moment of confused hesitation that had existed on the bridge as she started to guide him toward her. In truth, their minds must have been on the same wavelength, because almost in the same instant he had desired to come for her lips. Firm hands dropped away from her cheeks and fell to her shoulders. They slid just down so that his palms rested on her collarbone, before rolling outward beneath her arms around his neck. He took hold of her sides and caressed the length of her torso, they were at the peak of her hips when their lips softly touched again. Azir’s eyes closed gently as he sought to have more of this that time had denied them at Needlepass. His hands pressed back against her fabric and rolled around to her back, one shifted slightly down and the other up so that when they crossed they didn’t touch. His fingers spread to hold as much of her back, and support her as fully as he was capable.

As she pulled him toward the depth of the kiss, he dove in. He pulled her into his chest to deny the very air any chance between them. He had never kissed like this before, and he desired for it to consume him. He was prepared to go breathless for her, rolling tightly locked lips in a plea to be shown more. Even his hands didn’t want to sit still on her body. His fingers curled slightly so that the individual dots of his fingertips could be felt pressing against her. The lower hand dropped to fill the small of her back and lift her up against him. The upper slid slowly further between her shoulders and supported her.

The desire came over him in a wave, and at first he thought he might drown in it. Like between swept under the surface of the water and spun about. The nature of the kiss reflected that. It was hungry and pushed and pulled on them as though it were out of control. But when that first overwhelming sensation was gone, what was left was something magical. The feeling of floating and weightlessness. The controlled ebb and flow of the tide pushing and pulling you beneath the turbulent surface waves. And this too was reflected in the kiss as they danced together for the first time together, on the same page. Where they were left was a vast openness, filled with wonders to be explored.

And like being swept under the surface, eventually, there came a need for air. Surfacing from the kiss came with a deep gasp, and a small, but punctuating shiver that ran through him. He dared not open his eyes, not immediately, for fear that what he was feeling was a dream and to end it would have been the greatest cruelty. Yet he was so drawn that he couldn’t keep his eyes from her, so they opened slowly and seemed to glow with a brightness that hadn’t ever been present in them. Like gemstones that had been polished for the first time in a long time. And that was because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… Happy.

Happiness had not been a consideration for what felt like a very long time.

He went to speak, but when his lips opened he found that he had no words for her right then. Instead he filled the silence by taking her offering to explore her - and encouraging her to do the same. Azir pressed down against her lips again, slower, and more steadily. Diving down once more with her, instead of allowing them to simply be swept away with the current of it.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~7:35)
Location: Wester Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah |
The night previous had brought so much clarity with it. It had brought happiness, and comfort. But it had brought new questions, and renewed old doubts. Artanis would give him terrible advice, that much he knew, yet he was drawn here to the quiet of the room both for his own sake and to be near his teammate for whom he felt responsible. So instead of speaking aloud, Azir had been largely content to sit and simply be with him while keeping his own council. He’d just poured a glass of water when he heard the soft entrance, and he turned with the cup in hand.

It was almost shocking to see Farrah this way, it showed a side of her that he didn’t know existed. On some level it disarmed him, because she felt more familiar in this state. She was lovely - though true in any state of dress he’d seen her in - he had a leaning for this. His own attire should have reminded Farrah greatly of Lyra’s, something shared from their homeland. Though at Hammer Azir preferred practical clothing ready for combat, seeing him like this was at least far more common that Farrah dressed how she was.

Normally, it wasn’t the sort of joke that he’d find much humor in. Yet it brought a smile to his lips. He appreciated her lightheartedness more than the joke itself. “Cub suggested something similar. Turns out, even Doya thinks we should keep him around.” He approached slowly and lifted the glass, offering the water to her.

Azir looked to the box he’d noticed earlier, but he had not opened to see who had been by. That was for Artanis when he awoke, and Azir wouldn’t invade his privacy like that. “That was kind of her.” He smiled faintly, “She’ll likely never hear the words from him, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” One of Meena’s balms, now that she had a full arsenal of supplies, was certainly something to be grateful for. Azir made a small motion, as if giving permission for Farrah to move and apply it if she wanted to.

The question pulled a slight frown to Azir’s lips, and a tightening of his brow, “Velvet stayed with him most of last night.” He shifted slowly to the end of Artanis’ bed and looked up his whole form. “He has no family.” Azir revealed, shaking his head, “They took him far from Onyx when he was young and left him to the wilds.” He didn’t know much more than that, Artanis was not known for sharing his story. In fact, if he knew Azir was sharing it, he’d probably angrily disapprove. But Azir saw what he did for Meena, and it had entirely changed his understanding of the man.

“Did you come for Haimehen?” He looked up at her, “Has there been any change?”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Velvet Smoke
Date | Time: November 12th | Late Morning (~11:45am)
Location: Western Quarter -
Wearing: Sweater, long skirt, knit cap, boots
Tagging | Mentioning: Meena |
The sudden surprise that Meena exhibited was initially as confusing as it was surprising. Velvet felt like she was dense and having a really hard time following all of this. If that wasn’t needed, why do it? Why give something so intimate to someone you didn’t love? She didn’t understand. But she wanted to, and that was worth something, so she kept listening. The slowly moving bites of fish into her mouth was to keep her focused on something and give her time to think instead of just reacting. Her face had tinged with red that just wouldn’t go away as she chewed through another bite. She wanted to assure Meena the apology wasn’t needed, this situation was probably as much her own fault as it was Meena’s. But before she could, Meena touched on something that anchored them in the same place.

The Nevermore.

Velvet set aside her utensils once more, because for this she didn’t need time to process. “When it fell… It crashed over it. I got caught beneath it.” Velvet looked down at the food, “When it rolled over me, I was scared that it might be the end. I thought of home.” Her ears flicked, and she looked up gently toward Meena, “And I regretted not asking you on a date. Even if you had something with Marlowe, I should have tried…”

Sitting forward, Velvet exhaled heavily. It was time to stop hiding behind the anxiousness. “I like you too.” She felt they shared so many qualities, which just meant that Meena had many qualities that Velvet was inclined to adore. But most of all, Meena was free and fun, and felt good to be around. “And since I already have a yes from you, I guess we should be planning out date.” She smiled.

“And…” Velvet took a deep breath and relaxed, “I think part of that should involve me trying to see what you see. So… This dating to figure out where things go, thing, that you do? I want to know more. And I want to give it a try. Let’s do this the way you would normally do this, if you were back home.”

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Haim -> Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir | Haim, Auguste, Meena, Velvet, Artanis, Doya, Lyra
Farrah seemed pleasantly amused at the look that crossed Azir’s face and there was a moment of playful contemplation as she tilted her head to the side and stared at him with her bright eyes and mischievous half-smile. This was a moment of opportunity, she realized, to see how widespread the elven oral histories were. Azir had always struck her as a man of sophistication and elegance. Boring, in other words. But how would he react to learn that she mostly remembered the ceremonial greetings for 32 different scenarios - four of which were relevant here? She had never had an interest in that sort of thing and the gentle beep of the heart monitor seemed to become louder, so instead of indulging in teasing Azir, she nodded along to her response.

”Iffin that Doya say it, let it be so,” she said sagely. She had a difficult time imagining their being any scenario in which Doya’s advice wasn’t listened to by the letter. She raised a hand, politely declining the cup of water, and began to spin the balm between her fingers in idle thought. She wondered what Velvet thought of this whole thing. She was kind enough that she probably felt sorry for Artanis. Farrah didn’t. This was what he had signed up for - there was certainly glamour to the life of a Champion, but there were no false pretenses over what the quality of it would be should things go wrong. The revelation of no family didn’t seem to phase Farrah - a sad but common truth for many - but the idea that Artanis’ family would abandon him to the wilds?

There was a tiny crackle at the palm of her hands as her soul flashed into existence; she had clenched her fist so tight her nails had threatened to cut into her palm and the container of medicine had popped out of her fingers. Before the balm could hit the ground, Farrah yoinked it back to her hand and crossed her arms over her chest. She stared at Azir as she felt the heat rise to the surface of her skin in blotchy, angry patches.

”Could never understand,” she said tightly. A child! So precious a resource abandoned to die. There was an unspoken conversation in that moment. One that most elves understood, but anyone who longed for the joy of parenthood could identify with. The spasm of anger passed as strongly as it had come; there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

”Haimehen be a stubborn thing.” Talking about Haim was the last thing she wanted to do with him. She had seen the way Azir and Lyra looked at each other at the beginning of their mission. His presence in her tent had not gone unnoticed. Neither had how they avoided each other on the way back. She did not know what was going on between them, but she knew it was complicated. ”Came hopin’ to find his father, but Auguste had already left.” It truthfully hadn’t occurred to her that Auguste would carry on with his duty with Haim in the hospital, but upon finding the empty room it made sense. Haim wouldn’t have sat around, either. He would have looked for somebody to blame and a Hollow to kill.

”Came fer Artanis, too. I is no surprised ta know his team come by, but mine expectation is it outta responsibility,” she said without judgement. She unscrewed the lid of the balm and scooped up the entirety of its contents with her finger. ”He really be an asshole. But honest, mine ears do like that he speak plain. Not well, but wouldn’t that be a thing fer me to judge?” She grinned at the self-depricating comment and carried on. ”Thought he might like a friend.” She smeared the astringent paste right above his heart where Meena had indicated.

”They both a pair with a rotten streak in ‘em, but they ain’t rotten people. Got me a knack fer findin’ them types ‘n these two ain’t it.”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~7:35)
Location: Wester Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah |
The visceral reaction that Farrah displayed when she learned about Artanis’ past was one that Azir knew well, it was so very close to what he had experienced when he learned - and for all the same reasons. Artanis was not Azir's favorite person. Truth be told, he didn’t even know if he liked the man. But he didn’t wish that for him. No one, no child, deserved that, no matter who they were or what they were like. That crackle of her Soul made his gaze lift to her, “When he told me, I had no words for it.” He affirmed her shock over it. It was beyond shameful, it was unthinkable. As an elf, as a man who wished to have children, and simply as a person who considered himself compassionate.

It wasn’t in Azir’s nature to trash talk people, so even though stubborn was not at the top of the list of words he’d use to describe Haimehen, he wasn’t about to poke at it. He believed that he was that too, and that it was a trait that would serve him in whatever his recovery looked like. More surprising than that though was that she’d come to see his father. Azir tilted his head, “Are you close with the captain?” He looked to the door, “I have no seen him since we returned.” But then that might not have meant anything, Azir had only been here a very short window of time. “If I see him, would you like me to tell him you are seeking him?”

Rather than drinking any of the water he’d poured for himself, Azir moved to set the glass aside. “That’s part of it.” He admitted, stepping to the far side of Artanis’ bed and taking the seat he had been in since his arrival. He watched Farrah begin to apply the paste. It was hard to imagine anyone calling Artanis a friend. In the month he’d known him, Azir couldn’t point to a single interaction that he’d describe that way. But maybe Farrah was right. Artanis has seemed… Different with her. In a way that he didn’t understand. “I can’t say that he’d like it.” Artanis was often reluctant about such implications. Yet Azir smiled and nodded at her, “But I believe he needs it.”

Farrah’s words brought a quiet to him, and focused his thoughts. He passed his gaze down to Artanis. He agreed that he didn’t think he was rotten. It was hard to accept with Haimehen. How much of that belief was because of whatever rift existed between Farrah and Lyra, that she would be willing to give him a pass for his actions? Azir thought of the position about not wanting to hold people accountable for their actions, and wondered how that could not be rotten. He folded his hands and looked down to the floor, thinking further back. Before this mission he had not thought so poorly of Haimehen. Maybe it was not Farrah’s perceptions that were colored by her feelings toward Lyra, but his own.

That was uncomfortable for him. He closed his eyes and a flash of her pulled against him the night before painted itself on the back of his lids. If she was already blinding him to things, would that continue? This was precisely what he was afraid of. It made his chest tight to think about. Was he making a mistake?

Putting them - Artanis and Haimehen - side by side as Farrah had offered him a perspective he’d not considered. If he removed his feelings for Lyra from consideration, what did that leave him with? Confused children. He breathed out slowly and opened his eyes, “I think… You’re right.” Farrah was not the one he’d have considered a font of wisdom, and yet here she was surprising him with it. This was another time she had surprised him. “I can believe that they are both people who… Mean well.” This did not forgive Haim’s action, but it did make it a mistake, and people made those. When it was isolated, without the complications of feelings, and if the conversation they had was taken as well intentioned - if terribly misguided - then it did lessen the need to hold onto it. Which was well enough, because he didn’t want to hold it. Azir was not a spiteful man by nature. “I do hope your friend recovers.”

He grabbed the arms of the chair and pulled himself back up. “I should thank you. I… Fear I’ve been unfair to Haimehen. Your wisdom is appreciated. You’ve got a strong heart, Farrah. I admire that about you. I think you have suffered unfairly since coming to Hammer, and I wish it were not so.”

[Crash]

Character Name: Meena Tor
Date | Time: 11.12 | ~11:45am
Location: Western Quarter Restaurant
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Velvet
Meena had only seen the fall of the Nevermore from afar.  She hadn't known what happened until after, on the way back to Onyx.  Snippets from others' view of the moment, but there had been so much to do.  So many people to care for.  She knew Velvet was okay, and in that moment, that had to be good enough, so hearing what happened had Meena setting down the wooden mallet and crab leg and folding her hands in her lap.

"Oh," She said, orange sparkles meeting Velvet's gentle gaze.  Meena nodded.  She understood that moment more intimately than she wished. 

"Really?" Meena couldn't help it. A smile tugged at her otherwise somber face, and the rustle of her tail against soft fabric sounded softly against the back of their booth. Velvet sat forward, and Meena sat up. Her body tipped ever so slightly over the table, too. One hand held the other tightly to keep her often exaggerated movements subdued.

"Really?!"

' SHE LIKES ME TOO!!!!!'   Was what screamed in Meena's head, her smile breaking into a grin, her tail thumped against the booth back.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Oops, that part was out loud. But really, Meena hardly cared. The full force of her enthusiasm was on display, and half of the restaurant was staring at them was no bother to her. 

When Velvet continued, Meena was no less giddy. Still, she did try to contain herself…a little and nodded as her soon-to-be date was being the sweetest, most understanding, soon-to-be date ever. 

"Well, if I was back home, we wouldn't see each other for most of the year, only spending a week or so together at one clan moot or another, where we would spend most of our time trying to impress each other doing ever-increasingly stupid stunts, dancing until the bonfires started to die and drink until we were almost passed out. Then we would probably go…" Meena stopped and blushed an intense red. "There wasn't a lot to do and sooo…My brothers and sisters talked about it all the time.  I left before I really started to, you know…participate much.  I didn't start dating until I left. Oh Wild One, I am so oversharing, aren't I?" Meena said with a scrunchy face.

"Maybe we can meet halfway," Meena suggested, a tiny bit chagrined. It is becoming apparent to me that Torian…umm…dating can be maybe a little more...involved sometimes than other people are used to. "I don't want to wait a whole year between dates, so we can get rid of that.  But the dating you to find out part. That part sounds like the most amazing thing ever. Let's keep that.  How do you feel about increasingly stupid stunts and dancing?" Meena asked, absolutely over all the broken pieces of the moon that Velvet had finally asked her out.  The pale of their earlier conversation seemed to have evaporated for the statuesque silenus, and she started to smash her crab legs with gusto, slathering them in butter as they continued to talk.  At some point, Velvet excused herself. Meena quickly took out her phone, thumbing open the gRAVity group chat used solely for emergencies, and texted…

SHE ASKED ME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! *Happy dance*

~End Scene~

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir | Haim, Connie, Auguste, Artanis, Lyra
When the last of the balm was placed, Farrah twisted the lid back on the container and placed it in the pocket of her skirt. She rubbed her fingers together to absorb the last traces of the healing cream as she stared at Artanis. She didn’t expect him to miraculously wake up, but she did hope for it.

”Ain’t close at all,” she clarified. ”But would be big pleased iffin’ you were to see him ‘n let him know of my sadness over his boy.” Farrah unstrapped the weapons at her back and set them down  - it seemed she intended to stay a good while - but continued standing across from Azir with Artanis between them. Her fingers moved to tug on the braid that wasn’t there. Her fingers curled around the loose waves of her pearl tresses as the force of his words threatened to undo her composure.

You have suffered unfairly.

If ever a phrase were to pull Artanis out of his sleep, that was it. She stared at this passive face, waiting for the jump scare. Could he resist laughing at Azir? At her? She gave a short huff and looked at Azir, contemplating setting the record straight and unburdening herself of her secret worry. She found herself speaking of Haim, instead.

”Don’t think you be unfair at all.” She stopped fidgeting with the soft strands and rapidly snapped her fingers right hand, left hand, right hand, left hand before sighing heavily and pointing to Azir. ”Haim done did a foolish thing gettin’ wrapped up with Lyra. Them two won’t never gunna be more than a problem in that romantic sense. They both-” she tapped her temple ”-stuck in they own head. Haim especially.” She crossed her arms. ”Haim was a twin.” She said it with such softness that it seemed to hold some special meaning to her. ”Folks get the dead all the time, but me do wonder if it different for a twin. That boy had this- this-” She furrowed her brows, struggling to come up with the words. In a huff, she tried again a different way. ”Like when you get stabbed in the gut by some fool villain who then start sawin’ away at yer innards ta torment ya? Me do think that was happenin’ at him every day.”

The muscles in her neck flexed as she clamped her mouth shut. The corners of her mouth turned downwards, but rather than giving herself a moment to compose herself or Azir an opportunity to question her very specific simile, the words spilled out as she began to pace. ”It hurt. Just doin' life, 'n then it hits. Every time him see a book 'n know she ain't never gunna read it again. Every time him under the shade of a tree and know she ain't never gunna climb them branches again. Every time me see dancin’ ‘n know she ain’t never gunna move again.” She didn’t seem to realize the slip, but she was fully in her rant now. ”Was just a few months ago ‘n these things just come up. You about your business doin’ yer daily doin’s ‘n then you remember what isn’t there no more. That normal feelin’ goes ‘way ‘n you is reminded ‘gain that ain’t nothin’ gunna be the same never ‘gain. That blade cut at the most unexpected times! ‘n it easy. Big easy ta let that pain fester inta something ugly ‘cause ain’t nothin’ else worth feelin’ anywho without her there.” She seemed to realize that her own feelings were leaking out in a jumbled mess and stopped pacing to sit at the edge of Artanis' bed. Her brows furrowed in frustration. She tried to dial in her conversation.

"Mine heart can relate. Do wonder if Haim feel everythin’ so strong ta try ‘n fill that hole in him. It that- that-” She still couldn’t think of the word, but she couldn’t seem to drop it. She waved her hand in the air, trying to usher the words to her. "That big sad? He ain't let no one help him outta it."

”Grief. Grief is relentless and he was being crushed by its weight. Reshaped and defined by his loss,” she said in her native tongue. So rarely spoken, but so well fitting. She stilled. The death of Constance had given Haimehen a sickness of the heart, but that had not been the only death.

”Sister dead. His grandmama, too. Same attack. Memorial won’t too long ago. Mama long since gone. Father estranged. Abandoned his life ta come here… Ain’t matter. Did wrong, he did, ‘n it perfectly fair ta call him out on it. Me don’t feel bad fer the ol’ one-two-puncharoo me done give him because he deserved it. But that moment between him ‘n Lyra won’t all he was - or her, fer that matter - ‘n if he hadn’ta been so afraid of losin’ again - iffin’ he had taken the leap ta let us in - maybe things woulda been different. Ain't got no patience fer foolishness, but ain't gunna see me holdin' no grudges against people who doin' the best they can with what they got. 'n his dad? Haim ain’t dead, but he might as well be with the way he livin’ ‘n that a hard thing fer a father. Want Auguste ta know he ain’t never alone in his grief ‘n that it okay ta share it.”

At some point her hand had moved to the place Ocean had stabbed her. Fingers pressed into her gut in idle thought. You have suffered unfairly... She knew she should let it go. He hadn’t come for this. She certainly hadn’t. But it was hard to let him think that she was the one suffering.

”Came here ta be a new person. A champion. ‘n it ain’t been easy, but I done made the choice ‘n me livin’ with it. But I do wonder… After Needlepass, me got this secret fear. Me seein’ this pattern of people… Mila ‘n Namid won’t mine first. Haimehen and Artanis ain’t likely ta be mine last. Me survivin’ their circumstances, but they the ones sufferin’. Three replacements. That unheard of! It a worrisome thing ta me. Truly unfair thing ta them.”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~7:35)
Location: Wester Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah |
It appeared to be a misunderstanding. Azir felt he ought to clarify that while he still found Haimehen’s actions reprehensible and unforgivable, he hadn’t fully considered the situation beyond its surface. However, before he could delve into this, Farrah continued speaking, and he didn’t want to interrupt her - he didn’t like speaking over people generally speaking, but when Farrah spoke she did so with a sort of consistent simplicity that he enjoyed, leaving him even less willing. By the time she finished, his thoughts had shifted elsewhere, making the issue seem trivial. It felt odd, even unsettling, to entertain thoughts of romance between Haimehen and Lyreilynn. Was there something Farrah knew that he didn’t? Lyra had never mentioned anything, but then again, she hadn’t mentioned the situation either. Her reaction at the camp suggested there had been nothing, and further later that night in the tent. He realized that this, too, wasn’t the main concern at hand and pushed it aside.

Things would be different now, she wouldn’t keep things from him like that. Or so he wanted to believe.

Azir had been unaware of Haimehen’s twin status, learning only recently through a discreet conversation with Doya that he had lost people at all. The thought of losing a sibling and the pain it would cause wasn’t something Azir had to ponder deeply on; it was a fear that lingered with him daily. Though not a twin himself, he could imagine and empathize with the notion. The specific scenario that Farrah offered diverted his attention from the musings of his mind. He struggled to follow her training of thought, though it painted a vivid picture. Yet, even if it were a perfect metaphor, Azir couldn’t find it in himself to excuse Haimehen’s action. He was a man - a boy - not a dog. He had control over how he chose to conduct himself, and was accountable, even if wounded. Joining Hammer and subsequently betraying his team were conscious decisions. These things didn’t just happen. The more that they discussed it, the less inclined Azir felt to extend grace to Haimehen. Pain didn’t justify his betrayal or lessen its severity. Azir’s best for Haimehen was acknowledging him as a flawed individual who made a grievous mistake, rather than branding him as irredeemable. Forgiveness and understanding weren’t on the table.

Farrah may not have caught the slip, but he did. It made tracking what exactly was being talked about hard, but it no longer felt like it was about Haimehen. Which was good, really, because Azir didn’t want to confront the idea that Farrah might be making excuses for him, or trying to justify his behavior. He’d never heard her use their native tongue. It made him smile to hear it, even though the topic was heavy. It was a sentiment that he understood - or at least, that he agreed with. She refocused on him, but Azir was thankful to hear her so plainly say it didn’t matter, that he had done wrong and deserved the consequences of it. He felt they were on the same page. Well, close enough. But the point she had made him realize was exactly what she said - he shouldn’t hold a grudge, and he had been.

“Can both not be true?” Yes, it was unfair to them. Yes. Others were hurting. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be as well. “If Cub were lost…” Azir frowned. “In some ways things would be easier. He’s…” He frowned and slowly began to walk around the foot of the bed, “But I would hurt. If Irona left us… I would hurt. If Artanis doesn’t recover, I will hurt.” Even though prospects seemed good, there was no way to know. Things like this could change people, Azir had seen that first hand. He moved to Farrah’s side and sat beside her. “If you have a fear, then I think you hurt too, Farrah.”

He knew something of the feeling she spoke of, being the survivor. “Before Hammer, I ran another team of people, soldiers. My enemies, our enemies, they… You can be as prepared as possible and still lose people. And sometimes we take actions that we believe are right, and they cause loss. That’s part of what we’ve chosen to be. It’s also what they chose. You’ll see more loss,” That seemed inevitable, it was life, “But that doesn’t make it your fault, nor mean that you can't hurt too.”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: Light blue dress with golden embellishments, dark blue sash
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir |

A shiver ran down the course of her spine as his hands settled on her shoulders and trailed down slowly over the length of her body. Every inch he covered left fire in its wake, her skin warming beneath his touch. Any other person that had tried touching Lyra, she would shy away from, the fear of being found out ever present in her mind. But here, with him, she wanted to bare all to him, to have him accept her for who she was, everything she was, and to accept him in return. The way his fingers danced over her skin sent pleasant tingles across her body and she craved his touch. This is what they had been denied at Needlepass and they were making up for lost time.

Lyra arched her back slightly as he pulled her in closer, nestled securely against his chest with his hands firmly against her back, keeping her from falling. Which was a good thing, as it felt as though her knees were becoming weak, but still she stood, clinging to this elf she had come to love with every ounce of her being. It had been little more than a month, but with the fear of losing him – of everyone – on that pass that day, it only made her hold onto those budding feelings even tighter. She didn’t want to lose those feelings, to lose him, as she desperately sought more of him through their shared kiss.

That small flame in her chest was growing into a blaze, her desire for him increasing in a steady pace. There was that hunger there that demanded to be sated, a plea to be consumed. She wanted to explore more of this feeling, and to explore more of him. Her arms encircling his neck crossed over one another, drawing him in further to plunge the depths of their passion. The raging inferno between them was dying down to a persistent simmer, but no less intense or pleasant. It was like bobbing on the surface of the ocean, the waves fierce but lulling you into a sense of security. Being held in his arms felt like that to her, safe and secure, and no less desirable.

Breaking the kiss off, coming up from the depths for air, Lyra also let out a gasp, her breath coming out in a shaky shudder. She kept her eyes shut tight, not wanting to wake from this dream yet, pressing her forehead against his own. Almost reluctantly, she pulled back a little further, arms slipping from around his neck to rest her hands on his shoulders, opening her eyes to seek his, as teeth found her lower lip as she bit down softly. She could still taste him there and, for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to dive in again to sample his lips once more. But it was the way his eyes shimmered in the darkness that caught her attention, the subtle shine they held that wasn’t there before.

Lyra smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed a dusty rose. She was breathing heavily, having gone nearly breathless while dancing with his lips, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest, she was sure he could hear it. Her hands slipped down from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the rhythm of his own heart beneath her delicate fingers. It was as wild and uncontrolled as her own and that simple bit of knowledge made her smile even wider. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, what came to her were his lips.

She let her eyes flutter closed again, a soft groan escaping only moments before the space between them was entirely occupied. Her hands were crushed against his chest as she was pressed up against him once more, fingers splayed out as she felt the muscles beneath them. Despite his appearance, Azir was quite muscular, a fact that sometimes went unnoticed with how he dressed, normally in his light plate gear. But tonight, wearing the garb from their shared homeland, she could easily feel his form beneath the fabric. As her hands slipped lower, the fingertips of one hand trailed just under the crossed hem of his upper robes. Not enough to be intruding, but enough to be noticed, certainly.

Lyra never felt more bold than she did in that moment, trailing her hands back up slowly over his chest, fingers discreetly under the hem of his tunic, until she reached his shoulders like before. Except this time, instead of her hands laying on top of the fabric, her thumb and forefingers were beneath it, fingertips grazing against his bare flesh along his clavicle, with her middle fingers dancing over the edge of where his collar was, threatening to fall to either side.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra |
The wandering of her hand did not go unnoticed, and there was nothing intrusive about it. What it was was inviting. It encouraged Azir’s hands to roam, though there was only so much he could do with the wrap of her dress as it was. As their lips rolled passionately against each other, Azir found himself wanting something he had not intended for. While this was hardly a place he’d normally deem appropriate, the fever of this felt overwhelming in all of the best ways. How long had it been? Too long, he knew that much. His thundered in his chest to the deafening of all else. He felt things about her that he’d never felt before. They called him, and promised him that this would be unlike anything else he’d experienced, and he believed it. He believed it as deeply as he believed that he loved her. How could this be anything but? And more than those burning desires, Azir wanted to share with her. He wanted this for them, because as they dove deeper into this moment, he came to know that he wanted more than just walks with her.

He wanted it all.

They felt past the point of invitation, and beyond that Azir could toss aside his reservations. He broke from her lips, only to nuzzle forward along her cheek. His nose brushed her skin, and he whispered her name, “Lyreilynn,” before his lips kissed the angle of her jaw. Azir’s hands pulled wide, abandoning her back, but not her body. They slipped to their respective sides, both adjusting toward the heavy sash that cinched her dress. His fingers curled inward on it and took hold of her. They were moving, but it was so slow, so gradual that he barely noticed until finally his back pressed into the thick trunk of a tree. Here, beneath the stars, in the center of Onyx may not have been where he’d envisioned them sharing one another… But it would work all the same.

While his lips dusted her skin with kisses, Azir pivoted with her until he had her up against the tree. He leaned into her, and drew lips back to her own. At her waist, his hands flexed, tugging on her sash. Fingers wiggled and danced against her, and then slipped forward more to its bind. He wasn’t so crude as to desire to disrobe her in public - they were caught in passion, not animals - but he wouldn’t need much, just a loosening to part her skirts so that he might lean into her. There was a part of him that cursed the moment, and his own decency. Why could this not have happened somewhere else? Why had he thought a park was a good place for this? He wanted to feel her body against him. Already her heat drew him in, and he craved to bask against it and share with her. The other part of him simply wanted the moment to be one with her, and knew those things could come later.

One hand abandoned her sash and fell to her thigh. His fingers, strong, gripped at her and pushed down along it. He reached for her knee, before taking a fistful of skirt and balling it tightly. He broke the kiss again and brushed his nose against hers, breathing out heavy and ragged, “Vos intus aliquid accende me.” He whispered, as that shell of contained, reserved nobility cracked and began to fall away. As she touched him, as they embraced this here, Azir felt less like a duty-bound soldier, and more like a simple man. A simple man who craved the touch of his lover. Would it always be like this? His eyes caught hers and he knew that he would burn bright for her. “Desidero te, Lyreilynn.” The fingers on her sash paused, having made their way between them, resting at the folding that gave her cinch its tautness, prepared to loosen it. He lay his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, “Sentisne etiam? Hoc explorabis mecum?”

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir | Artanis, Meena
As he sat down next to her she placed a hand behind her to lean backwards. The gesture didn’t add more than an inch or so of space between them with the narrow confines of the bed and she smiled at him to indicate the movement was a polite sharing of room rather than a withdrawal from his presence.

”What ya mean easier?” She didn’t value all life the same - she knew enough about herself to know that - but it was a curious thing to hear Azir say and she wasn’t sure he meant it the way she understood it. She looked up at the ceiling and then down to Artanis, contemplating more than her hurt.

”Thank you kindly,” she said softly. He was right. Of course he would be. His thoughtfulness reminded her of Meena’s gentleness and she wondered if all team leaders had a knack for this sort of thing. ”Do know there is more loss ta come. Make mine ears wilt ta know it, me do. But…” she sighed heavily, looking from Azir to Artanis and back to Azir. There was this depressive energy hanging on her shoulders. The seriousness of the ambience, the difficulty of their last mission, and the harsh realities of their chosen path in life were trying to weigh her down and she refused to let it. As she inhaled, she leaned forward with a new, excited energy. ”The gain do outweigh the loss.” She smiled.

”Ain’t never met so many different types of people! Gainin’ many new friends. Silenus. Humans. Elves! ‘n such different elves! Mine home do not listen kindly to those who endanger they life needlessly. Much prefer hidin’ ‘n runnin’. No fault to ‘em, but I always been the type of action. ‘n you too! Soldier turned Squire! Not just a pretty face, you isn’t! Findin’ folks like me make the world feel less lonely. And these talents of ours! This shared vision of a future where friends ‘n family can do whatever they little hearts desire in safety. Got me a community of folks who know that life be worth livin’ - that there be experiences ta be had while they can be - ‘n they doin’ they part ta see it. Findin’ reward in risk, hope in defeat,” she looked to Artanis, ”compassion in coldness. Life full of things achin’ ta be lived. Me ain’t here to mope over sad things that happened. Me here ta lure these boys back in with what they missin’ out on!”

She lowered her voice to a salacious whisper. ”Best ta cover thine ears, Azir. Was gunna perform Sultry Serpent.” It was a bawdy ballad of a misguided Elf attempting to seduce a Dragon and getting nowhere. As the poem progressed, the visuals became much more graphic. ”Figure that the kinda tasteless thing that’ll wake Artanis right up!”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~7:35)
Location: Wester Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah | Cub, Doya, Irona, Velvet, Lyra
Easier. The question lingered there for a second as he contemplated. He ought to have known it’d get picked up on. He didn’t mean it in a bad way of course, but to explain required a knowledge of how things were with him and his partner. “In a lot of ways, Cub is much my opposite.” Which shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone. Azir was quiet and reserved, Cub was raucous and uninhibited. But it really went much further than that, “Of everyone on Mockery, I feel I connect with Cub the least. An undue amount of energy goes into him, and the payoff for it is not apparent.” Cub had no love for responsibility or diligence, which were both very important to Azir. “As my partner, I feel an obligation to pick up the things he drops behind.” All of which painted a very negative picture, but Azir didn’t sound negative - maybe slightly perturbed - so much as he did thoughtful. “But I don’t ignore that he has brought something valuable to my life, and perhaps more importantly to the team. His loss would be felt, even though I think that in many ways he is on the outside of Mockery.”

She had a point, about the gains and losses. He felt much the same. What he was learning here. The things that were being built. Even the ways that his life had been touched, they were worth the potential for loss. His mind flickered through people. He had found something kindred in Doya, and felt enriched to know her. Irona and Velvet to, they had touched him and it had been for the better. There were others, but it was impossible for his mind not to go to Lyreilynn. His heart throbbed for her, despite the way things had gone - or, rather, how they had not gone - the night before. Would he pay a loss to have experienced what he felt for her? Certainly.

That felt selfish. And maybe it even felt wrong. Those complicated thoughts. The insecurities and concerns lunged into his thoughts again. Only quieting over the embarrassment that he felt by Farrah’s praise, and calling him a pretty face. Azir reddened slightly, uneasy beneath the direct attention she showered on him. But not disliking it. “Thank you.” He chimed lightly, glancing up and out the door. “I am glad to have met you too.” Azir’s attention turned to her, and he studied the profile of her face. “You’ll have your dream.” He could feel it. She was going to make someone happy, and she would be a strong matron for her gaggle of children. If they were half what she seemed, they’d change the world.

Many of her other words struck at him. They spoke to those thoughts that were most noisy in his head. “You make it sound so simple to enjoy and experience those things.” He shared her vision, where people could do whatever they desired safely. “I came here for those reasons. To give that future to people who didn’t have it. But I have…” He chewed on the thoughts. Ultimately, he settled that he had come here to think about them and process, and if Farrah had shown up, then maybe it was fate to be shared. “I’ve believed for so long that those things weren’t for me. Or if I wanted them, they needed to come after I had secured them for others.” But that felt so complicated now. “Since coming here I have seen others with more. And now I have…” Azir turned a deeper red and looked at his feet, “Lyreilynn. But I worry, I worry deeply that I cannot have both. These things we must do, they’re so important. So important to so many, but she’s important to me…”

And after he listened to her advice, Azir’s blush did not fade at all. For a moment he was impressed that she knew the ballad well enough to perform it. Then it sunk in, “I think I’ll let him enjoy your performance.”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: Light blue dress with golden embellishments, dark blue sash
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir |

Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine as Azir broke from their kiss long enough to nuzzle against her and whisper her name. The way he always said it gave her chills. While she did prefer the more casual nickname, hearing him use her full name was a pleasant experience, and right then, in the heat of the moment, it had been multiplied tenfold. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access as those kisses trailed across her jaw, fingers clutching his collar and threatening to pull it free as her hands slipped closer to his shoulders, dragging some of the fabric with her.

She hadn’t even been conscious of the fact their feet were moving, so caught up she was in the dance of their lips, until her back was pressed against the trunk of the tree. Lyra’s eyes flew open as the sudden intrusion with a subtle gasp, before the sound was muffled, Azir’s lips covering her own, causing her to moan into this new deepening kiss. Her entire body felt like it was on fire and her head was light. Something inside of her had been ignited, something foreign and new, but not exactly unwanted. She felt butterflies in her stomach, twisting and knotting, a deep hunger that needed to be sated by more than just his lips. She shifted, almost uncomfortably, underneath his touch, her legs rubbing together as the source of that heat grew.

A gasp was uttered as she felt his hand on her leg, taking in a ragged breath of fresh air with the broken kiss. His touch was like a river of fire against her skin, lighting it aflame wherever his hands landed. She didn’t even recoil as he twisted his fingers in the fabric of her skirt. Panting, powder blue eyes drunk on passion and lust, drowning in desire for this man before her, sought out his peridot ones in the dim lighting of the evening park. “Tua tactus corpus aflame.” Every inch of her body was craving his touch, and she wasn’t entirely sure why, only that she knew she wanted to be that much closer to him than they were right now.

Her chest rose and fall with each deep breath she took. She captured her lower lip between her teeth, rolling her lip along its edge until it slipped free once more, mouth left agape just slightly. Lyra pressed her back gently against the tree behind her, her arms stretched out with her hands resting on his shoulders. “Ego sentire eam. Volo explorarent omnia tecum.” Almost with a renewed vigor, she felt his hand tug at the sash around her waist, but she did not stop him. Instead, there was a soft groan as the tautness loosened, the folds of her blouse opening up slightly to reveal her cleavage and giving him ample room to adjust her skirts.

Lyra let her head fall back, the crown pressed against the bark, as her eyes slipped shut, exposing her neck to him and causing her chest to rise a bit higher, almost inviting him in. This had begun to remind her of a scene she read in her last book. Joyce had been pressed against a pillar with her arms wrapped tightly around her lover. His hands roamed over her body, much like Azir’s was doing now. They slipped under her robe, groping at exposed flesh, causing moans from her lips – and similar ones to be elicited from Lyra’s, from memory of text and current touch from her lover – before they pried the delicately thin fabric from her body, baring her all to him.

The first time Azir’s hand touched bare flesh underneath her dress, it was like the shock of cold water had washed over her. Her eyes snapped open as that scene from the novel replayed over and over in her head. Joyce ended up nude before her lover as he slowly disrobed her in a moment of passion, baring every inch of her form to him. Azir was headed in that direction with her now, and panic took hold of every fiber of her being. “W-wait, Azir.” Her voice trembled as she desperately sought his face, her hands moving to lay one on each of his, halting his movements. “I-I cannot… I, I want to, but… I, I am not… Not ready.” Her lips trembled as much as her hands shook. “I need… Some time. Please. Ego paenitet, amica mea. Ego... vere vis hoc. Nobis. Sed non hic. Non nunc.”

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra |
Her blessing, the shared desire that she felt, it was gasoline to the fire that he felt growing inside. Azir had never felt passion like this. He knew the pleasure of the body, but not like this. His experience had been carnal, it had not been driven by emotion and intimacy. This felt so much more powerful that it might well have been an entirely different experience. And as his lips parted and kissed her forehead, all he could think was that he wanted to experience it with her. His hand tugged roughly at the cinch, loosening it. How badly he wanted to feel her skin pressed against his. To feel the electric heat as they touched and writhed against one another. It would have to wait though. He wouldn’t bare her - or himself - to the world for a moment of lust. But they could explore this, they could have this, and maintain a level of modesty.

Azir’s hand tugged again, until the only thing that kept the cinch up was the fact it was pinned to the tree by her back. Eyes open, he looked down to see the fabric falling away from the crest of her breasts. It took steel inside of him to turn his head to the side and dip instead for her ear. Arousal claimed him. He felt the familiar tightness of desire in his groin. Leaning into her, he foreshadowed their night as the heated length pressed against her through both their fabric layers. Azir abandoned her ear after only a moment on it, seeking her lips again and plunging them into a kiss that threatened to mask what came next. The hand filled with her skirt grabbed her thigh and pulled slightly, guiding her leg off center - and with it, he stole some of the skirts. Enough to create a parting for himself.

His hand, freed from the obligations of loosening her cinch, crawled forward. His fingertips touched her stomach and slowly pushed forward until his palm was flat on her stomach, and his fingers dipped behind the curtain of her dress, teasing at her flank. It needed to slide down, he needed to free himself. But he craved that moment of feeling her, so instead, it began to slide deeper to the right. It, unintentionally, threatened to open her dress further - though he had no intention of allowing it. But this action, this decision, had some effect on her. Azir was not so consumed by the desire in him to be blind to it. She was shocked, and tight. There had been fluidity to their intimacy, and suddenly she was rigid. Her words, her gently panicked plea did the same to him as his touch did to her.

What had he done wrong?

Azir froze. Her hands on his, rather than on him. She was stopping him. A painful ache throbbed in his chest. His hands lifted against hers. Had he misread? Misheard? Had this not been the invitation he had thought? No. He didn’t believe that he could be that daft. Did it simply mean that she thought better of it now with him? “Cannot?” He repeated, almost interrupting what came next from her mouth. Azir moved his hands to take hold of her dress at the split sides, and he gently grabbed both, tugging them gently back together to preserve her modesty. Her words did not match what he felt the actions had been - it was hard to track which to listen to. “Of… O-Of course.” He shook his head, and smiled, holding her dress so that she could correct her cinch to be proper once again. The whole time he stood still as a curtain, a half step away, to give her the space it felt like she needed.

It had been foolish, he thought, to try this here. Giving into the urges that he felt, how very unbecoming of him. How could he have been so foolish? As she finished adjusting, and the strange discomfort of daggered arousal faded between his legs, Azir took a step back. He was unsure what to do with his hands all of a sudden. They fidgeted, before he offered both to her, outstretched and upturned… If she wanted them. “Forgive me.” He said, ashamed. Azir looked down, embarrassment staining his cheeks. “I…” He had no excuse, he didn’t know what to say. “Forgive me.” He repeated, “Please.”

When he felt her hands in his, Azir took another step back to slowly guide her away from the tree, and from the moment that they had nearly shared. He swallowed dryly. There were a hundred questions that he wanted to ask, but he didn’t know how to say any of them. This was going to be more complicated than simply admitting that he loved her, he began to realize. “Would you care to… Finish our walk?” Even he cringed at the question. Of all those he was choking on, what a pathetic, flaccid one to escape his throat.

He felt the tremble still in her head, and it made him take a deep breath. He squeezed her hand and slowly turned to face her again. He wrapped his second hand around the one, and lifted her hand up slowly to his lips, and bent forward to kiss the back of it, looking at her through slightly upturned eyes. Azir’s lips lingered on her until the shaking stopped. It was a moment needed for himself as well, to regain his own composure through this strange rollercoaster of emotions that he had unexpectedly found himself on. “Cum cor tuum paratum sentiat, et hoc velit, ego tecum adhuc ero, Lyreilynn.”

[FyreFoxx]

Character Name: Lyreilynn "Lyra" Xyrven Myalis
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: Light blue dress with golden embellishments, dark blue sash
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir |

Lyra gasped again at the touch on her ear, the deep red coloring her cheeks reaching even to her ears now. They were quite sensitive, after all, and another shiver caused goosebumps over her skin. Who know that it could elicit a feeling like that? There was a pleasured moan that was mumbled against his neck as she felt his need pressed against her. Such a foreign feeling, but it excited her more than she thought it might. Her own arousal was heightened, feeling herself grow warmer in places she never expected. Places she wanted him to touch and explore. Lyra wanted to feel him against her and share everything with him, and for a moment, as he kissed her again, she indulged herself on that feeling, losing herself in the taste of his lips.
 
But when his hand had touched bare skin and the realization of what was about to come hit her like a full force wave washing over her, it cleared her mind of the hazy passion she had gotten lost in. Clarity, if only for a moment, was enough to put a stop to it. Lyra watched the way his face contorted in confusion, seeing the hurt, disappointment, bewilderment. Her heart ached seeing those emotions flicker across his features and she almost took them back, but she silenced herself by taking hold of her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough that the sharp feeling of pain kept her mind clear and her resolve intact. If she had lost herself in a moment of lust with him, if she had given herself to him like this, no matter how desperately she wanted to, it felt like she’d be betraying him somehow by keeping such a big secret. She wanted to give him that choice beforehand, to bare her all to him before he decided he wanted to lay with her in earnest, rather than risk it all in the heat of the moment and have him regret it later.
 
Ashamed and embarrassed, Lyra couldn’t bring herself to look at him, even as he held her clothing together as she pulled the sash around her waist, cinching it in place once more to keep everything held together. As his warmth faded from her immediate vicinity, she cast her gaze up towards him, feeling the heat from within slowly ebb away. “There is nothing to forgive. I… It is I who should be sorry, not you.” She tried to give him that soft smile of hers, but it looked sad. Reaching for his hands, she grasped them gently, tightening her hold just enough to deliver a soft squeeze, as she stepped away from the tree and back towards him. There was a momentary flash of surprise over her face, but it melted into another smile, simply nodding to his suggestion. Anything was better than that sudden awkward encounter they just shared and what could have been, had her own insecurities not gotten in the way of such a deep moment of passion and lust.
 
She didn’t even realize that she was still trembling until he took hold of her hand with both of his and kissed the back of it. Lyra’s face, that had only just recently cooled down and returned to its pale complexion, heated back up at his gesture, bashfully adverting her gaze even as she smiled. Azir truly was a wonderful man and so respectful towards her. His touch still sent shivers down her body, little waves of flames rolling down her arm from his lips to her core. It was electrifying.
 
Once they had both calmed down enough, Lyra was happy to just resume their walk, but her mind wandered a bit as they did so. What if she hadn’t stopped him? How far would they have gone? She had felt his arousal against her body, and her own loins had ached to feel him. Would they have really shared a night of embracing each other, here, in the park? Her cheeks were still dusted with that rosy color, her eyes downcast as they continued walking, her hand still wrapped in his. Her own desires for him had nearly outweighed her anxiety about being seen by him. Even if the dim light of the night would have aided in the cover to keep her hidden, their clothes even kept on, a part of her couldn’t lie to him like that.
 
Lyra came to a stop, gently squeezing his hand as she turned to face him fully. “Azir, I… I really enjoyed my time with you tonight. And I…” She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. “I do want to experience everything with you. My, my birthday is in three days. On the twelfth.” She paused, biting her lip softly as she tried to form the words that felt so hard to say. “Et vos ... habe ad vesperam mecum tum?” A promise of what was to come lingered in her question, pale powder blue eyes full of hope, passion, and desire for him.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 9th | Late Evening (~9:20)
Location: Onyx - Rook’s Down Park
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Lyra |
Despite the words, he felt like there was. He should have known the same way he had known talking about what happened on Needlepass needed to wait until they were home and alone. He had intuited that, how had he so badly misread this situation? He didn’t want her to be sorry, but how could he tell her that? Azir met her smile with one of his own, wishing that this had been better. He would do better, or, at least, he would try.

She stopped, and it pulled him to do so as well. His hand tightened around hers reflexively, for a moment of fear that it’d be the last solid touch of hers that he got to enjoy. That her words put that fear to rest, he was thankful for. But they also brought with them a deeper confusion. He nodded, assuring that he too had enjoyed the evening, despite the abruptness that brought them to a halt. “So did I,” he said, hoping that she knew he always did - all of their outings, their walks and their talks, they were all things that he enjoyed. He enjoyed her, it was as simple as that.

He’d not known of her birthday, and was surprised it was so soon - but maybe more surprised by the request. He read all of those feelings in her gaze and stepped once more toward her. His free hand lifted and graced her cheek, “Nox ista tua erit. Ut nox ulla voles.” There was nowhere he’d rather be, even if it meant doing nothing but being in her company. He wouldn’t push, he wouldn’t beg, he wouldn’t assume. She was free of those obligations to him, he meant what he had said. When she wanted him, if she wanted him, he would be there, but not before. There were questions he felt still needed answers, but he couldn’t find the words. Or maybe he was just afraid of the answers. They could be answered another night he resolved.  “May we walk a little longer? I’d like to be with you a while longer…”

-End Scene-

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Azir | Artanis, Lyra
Farrah let out a huff of amusement as Azir explained his relationship with Cub. ”Do wonder,” she said slowly, ”about these Unovian elves.” She grinned. ”So rigid in ya ways. You ever turn that off?” She laced her fingers together and rest them upon the top of her head, staring up at the ceiling. Was Cub truly on the outside of Mockery, or was he on the outside of what Azir considered acceptable Squire conduct? She had trouble imagining Azir having an interest in Cub outside of the value he brought to Mockery as a team member, but she also had trouble imagining Azir outside of his role of Squire. Did he have a life beyond his duty? For the first time, she wondered what Azir was like outside of school and as he reddened and looked away, she took the brief opportunity to study his blushing features. She averted her gaze before he noticed. What held him back from enjoying what he was attempting to carve out for others? He was so supportive of her dream. Why not have his own?

And what she made sound simple? It was simple. Or at least, it seemed that way for her. But she was learning that everything was simple to her. Fewer people than expected ascribed to the just do it attitude.

”Mister Knight,” she said playful, letting her hands drop, ”Yous can have exactly what you invest time ‘n room for ‘n that noble heart of yers.” It was said so matter-of-factly. Like it was just that simple. ”Champion Azir gunna take up a lot of space in that brain. As it should be. Champion is always a Champion first. But puttin’ things second, third, fourth - like that there Lyra - don’t make ‘em any less. Cannot believe she ain’t gunna understand yer devotion to duty. But you is more than Squire ‘n Soldier. Do not forget you also Azir Kil-Mitter ‘n that worth plenty, too.” She leaned forward, inappropriately close, but bright-eyed and mischievous. ”So next time that fool voice twixt them ears be whisperin’ such falsehoods ‘bout what you is or is not able to have, lemme know.” She smiled sweetly. Threateningly? ”Would be mind pleasure ta beat that voice out ‘n knock some sense inta ya!” She tossed her head back and laughed.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

”Farrah! Again?” A nurse passing by the door had paused to give her a look and Farrah snapped her mouth shut contritely, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She couldn’t help if she had told Haim the story of his demise with gusto. What was the point of telling a story if there wasn’t a bit of flair?

”Sorry, miss,” she said, and that seemed to be enough for the moment, but the elf could sense that the goodwill was quickly diminishing. She lowered her voice to a salacious whisper. ”She ain’t gunna like what come next. Best ta cover thine ears, Azir. Was gunna perform Sultry Serpent.” It was a bawdy ballad of a misguided Elf attempting to seduce a Dragon and getting nowhere. As the poem progressed, the visuals became more graphic. ”Figure that the kinda tasteless thing that’ll wake Artanis right up!”

The stain of color that deepened on Azir’s cheek as Farrah realized that the refined gentleman before her knew what she was talking about was a mental image and rush of feeling she would think about long afterwards. He and Lyra were a match made in… well, she didn’t think they were well matched at all. The noble knight to the distressed damsel was never a relationship that lasted long in books, but she’d root for them nonetheless. Life was too short to not enjoy what the heart wanted.

”I think I’ll let him enjoy your performance.”

Unsolicited, Farrah couldn’t help herself. ”Lyra reads books that ain’t far off from the ballad. She’d enjoy hearing you perform it.” A genuine statement, but one she knew would threaten what little composure Azir seemed to maintain. If he turned any redder, he’d disappear into his outfit.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Azir Venris Kil-Mitter
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~7:35)
Location: Wester Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: This
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah |
It wasn’t exactly a criticism that he could refute. Azir was rigid. He always had been. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but close enough. But he didn’t know that it extended to all Unovian elves. His siblings he wouldn’t describe as rigid. But then he wouldn’t describe Lyreilynn as rigid either. In fact, he thought her quite supple. The thought brought some red to his cheeks. “I’ve… Been trying.” That was the best he could do with it. “It’s,” his tongue slid across his lips, and he looked over at her, “I find it difficult.” It was hard to admit weakness, even when the weakness was in many ways a strength. “I see injustice and I’m drawn to fix it. Someone must. I fear how easy it would be to stop in indulgence. I see it, how it easy it is to slip into complacency…” He frowned and looked down. If someone didn’t remain vigilant, sacrifice those things, how could anything change?

This was why he struggled with the idea of having both. He wanted it, more than he ever had before, and in entirely new ways even. But that fear, it was very real to him. He had too much to do, too many were counting on him, for him to get swept up and drawn into a life that he much would rather have for himself - a life that, in truth, probably resembled Farrah’s own desires rather neatly.

He half smiled being called mister knight and glanced up, only to find her moving for him. Inch by inch his eyes widened, and he froze. Had her eye’s always been so gold? He swallowed, reddening not because of her words but because of the closeness. He wasn’t sure what to do there, and Farrah could no doubt see the cogs in his poor little brain grinding to a halt as he flustered at the closeness and attention. It created the sort of perfect opportunity for him to really hear her, because all of his other thoughts died down, leaving plenty of room and all of his processing power focused on her. Was it really fair to Lyra, to be put second? Would she understand that? The way Farrah said it seemed certain enough, and it convinced him. Maybe because she was a great speaker, or maybe because he wanted to believe it in the first place. In a way, he had always seen those things as different - himself, the elf and the man, versus the champion, the guardian. He had trained himself to put the latter first, and give himself entirely to it until it was no longer needed, until it could rest. Then the man could find life in the wake of those actions. But more and more, the man wanted to be free.

Azir took a deep breath, and laid her wisdom over his turmoil like a heavy blanket to smother them. And it felt good. Her laugh was wonderful. Azir smiled and gently tilted his head as he observed her. She really was an interesting woman. “I truly think if anyone could accomplish it, it would be you, Farrah.” He reached for her hand and, when it was given, he held it gently, laid over his palm and kissed the back of her hand. The gesture was kindness, it was respect, it was courtesy, and even admiration. “Thank you.” He said sincerely, as he returned his hand to her.

The nurse scolding Farrah for her laughter, and the squire’s quick silence brought a smile of amusement to Azir’s face. Even though he had not been involved, he couldn’t help but feel partly responsible, so following her own apology he inclined his head to the nurse, “My apologies, ma’am.”

Whether it was her tone or the words themselves, Azir’s cheeks lit aflame at what Farrah whispered. He swallowed and peered to the open doorway. That was… Well, that was not a performance he was equipped to deal with right now. Especially not after the unresolved frustrations of the night before. “I think I’ll let him enjoy your performance, as it was intended.” Privately. Azir gave his teammate a little look and then rose to leave. He made for the door in a hotly embarrassed retreat. He couldn’t help the little images that popped into his head. But before they could fully manifest, what Farrah offered shocked him into stillness at the doorway. He held its frame with one hand and cast a hard, confused, scrutinizing glance over his shoulder at her. Was she… She was. She was being serious. Azir’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know that about his lover. Idly he nodded as his thoughts wandered to entirely new visions about this woman that he loved. Maybe he would perform for her…

The tips of his ears went cherry red as he turned and exited, leaving the two in peace.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Artanis Mellow
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~8:05pm)
Location: Western Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: Surprisingly little
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah |
Farrah was somewhere in the middle of the third or fourth stanza of the Sultry Serpent when Artanis awoke. His brow did a little twitch as the words took root in his head. His first instinct was to tell whoever it was to shut the fuck up. But the tiny fluttering of his eyes and the little slit of blurry vision happened to land right on her and her performance. There were moves that went with the performance, an exotic full body experience. And Farrah was right, it wasn’t something he was going to deny. So he didn’t move, he didn’t speak up, and through nearly closed eyes and the filter of lashes, Artanis watched her move and listened to her talk. It wasn’t something he was familiar with, but then Artanis wasn’t exactly the most cultured individual.

If all elven tales were as interesting as this, he might have to change that.

When she was finally done, Artanis waited just a few moments longer before stirring. “Do you ever shut up?” He muttered with faux-grogginess. Even after days of rest, Artanis was still Artanis. Being asleep for days was, actually, the literal worst. Blinking a few times he tried to move but found himself very stiff. The cool feeling of Meena’s balm helped the ache, he could tell because there was this duller patch on his front compared to everything else. Artanis took a deep breath, but that hurt, he winced and went back to smaller ones. “Why are you here, Thessa?” He opened his eyes entirely and peered across the room at her, “Don’t you have someone else to bother? Your bag of elf meat is down the hall, if you wanna talk someone to death you could at least put him out of his misery.”

[Envious]

Character Name: Farrah Tinkerspan
Date | Time: November 10 | 7:35pm
Location: Western Quarter - Hospital - Artanis
Wearing: hair, earrings, outfit, shield, boomerings
Tagging | Mentioning: Artanis | Azir

She had tried to ignore the ache in her heart that Azir had brought out with his reverent kiss. She knew she could bury it deep with a little effort - she had done it before, she could do it again. But she couldn't help but think of the other people who treated her so softly and of all the things she had left behind as she danced for Artanis. Those cherished memories couldn't be avoided when performing. The two were too closely wrapped up in one another.

Still, she danced, and over time fell into the performance and out of her heartache. The translation of her ballad was not great. The common tongue did not have the same rhyme or rhythm, but Farrah had just as much enthusiasm. It was much like her dancing. A little clumsy, but the emphatic roll of her hips more than made up for any technical errors. As she delivered the punchline of the ballad, she gave a swirl of her skirts and a curtsy. Cheeks rosy and panting from the effort, she jerked in shock as Artanis spoke.

"It worked!" she declared in smug satisfaction, moving to the left side of the bed. Rudely, she picked up his left hand and flopped it on his chest to make room for her to sit next to him. She made herself comfortable rather that immediately respond to him. His near death experience hadn't seemed to change much about his attitude.

"Did suggest that Haim be put outta his misery, but... that won't well received. Me didn't suggest it lightly - ain't about that sorta thing on principle, but he ain't gunna heal right." There were ways around it, she now knew, but it wasn't just his body that needed healing and until that was fixed...

"Already visit him, I did. Now'm here with you. 'n such sass! Actin' as if you got someone else you wanna wake up to. Hah!" she boldly declared, making herself comfortable. For a moment, it seemed as if she might pour her heart out. Give thanks for him rescuing Meena. Fuss over his state of injury. Apologize for abandoning him at Needlepass. Update him on what had happened since he had fallen unconscious. Express relief over him waking up. She didn't do any of those things.

She just sat there.

In silence.

Staring at him.

Proving that yes, sometimes, she could just shut up.

The corner of her lip twitched in amusement.

[Aethyrium]

Character Name: Artanis Mellow
Date | Time: November 10th | Early Evening (~8:05pm)
Location: Western Quarter - The Hospital
Wearing: Surprisingly little
Tagging | Mentioning: Farrah | Haimehen
The flop of his own hand on the wounds of his chest, even dulled by Meena’s expertly crafted medicine, made him groan and wince. He did his best to hide it, but there really was no covering it up entirely. Even after days of rest, he hurt. His body was sore. His insides still felt like goo from the poison. He still felt hot as though running a fever. Even his Soul felt sluggish to regenerate - he had really overdone it.

Somehow, Artanis knew what she was talking about. The extent of Haim’s injuries were intense. Farrah wasn’t the first person to voice concern for his future. He couldn’t say it surprised him that people hadn’t taken to her suggestion, light or otherwise, well. Bunch of softies. “Do me a favor, promise that if I ever end up like that and you have the opportunity to end it, you’ll take it.” He wasn’t serious. Well, actually, he was entirely serious, but he didn’t need her to actually agree.

Truth be told, Artanis had expected to wake up alone. Like Farrah he assumed that if they came, they did so out of obligation. Artanis was no one’s favorite. Which was, usually, fine by him. But though he didn’t want to admit it, seeing her dancing - even if, perhaps especially because, salaciously - and being here with him felt good. People who danced to wake people up didn’t do it because they didn’t care. How could he admit that though? Instead he rolled his eyes. But when they stopped and peered at her, staring at him, in silence, they slowly narrowed. Second by second, challenging her to laugh, or break out and express herself.

But he was the first one, “Okay, you know how to shut your hole. I get it. Now get out.”

He knew that she wasn’t going to do that though, and that was fine because he didn’t really mean it. Artanis closed his eyes and exhaled a slow, pained breath. His head rolled away, and he peered toward the closed window. Something unexpected happened… Something inside of him broke loose. A piece of his wall fell down. Suddenly, a tear rolled down his cheek. “I was afraid.” It was barely a whisper. He trembled beneath the blanket, a leaf in a nonexistent wind. Artanis swallowed roughly, “I was on fire…” Not physically, but his insides had felt like it, “I thought I was…” He sucked in a sharp breath and held it.