❛  i  wanted  to  disappear  for  a  while,  ❜  calia doesn’t admit this freely, she doesn’t want to, after all she’s an iron lord. a former one, still, but one nonetheless. the idea of dealing with trauma isn’t exactly... heard of. it wasn’t anyways. for all of the good happening, the idea of a siva infused gun still terrifies her.  ❛  that  gun  is  setting  a  dangerous  precedent.  ❜  they do not know what ironsbane has done, and what made it worse, for the need for power it seems as though no one cared.  //  @herheal: sc.

       it’s a bit too quiet in the annex for lady efrideet’s liking, the electricity and excitement that usually peppers the air is all but gone. she wonders if the rain had dampened peoples’ spirits as well. the invitation from the nine had been obscure enough, and the knowledge that she’d gained while troublesome wasn’t unexpected. the weight of the words were heavy, but more than that the sadness in them. slipping into the doorway leading to the gambit runner’s slice of the tower she removed her hood, her helm sat on one of the tables.                              ❛  drifter,  ❜  she breathes out his alias with the faintest smile at her lips. he may call her the sun but even the idea of him keeps her level-headed.  ❛  told  you  i’d  come  back  quick.  ❜  //  @driiftcr: sc,

                strange  to  think  at  one  point  even  we  were  looked  at  as  false  gods.

      ❛  i  can  throw  you  anywhere,  just... preferably  not  into  the  crucible.  ❜

     ❛  of  course  you  are,  drifter.  ❜  there’s a troublesome smirk.                                ❛  maybe  i  should  just  play  some  gambit.  ❜

      ❛  you’re  lucky  you’re  handsome.  ❜

      ❛  don’t  you  have  work  to  be  doing,  drifter?  ❜

     ❛  is  this  you  coming  out  to  say  you  wish  to  be  thrown,  warlock?  ❜

                      ❛  no,  not  the  revelry.  ❜  her shoulders shrug weakly, she’s not quite sure what’s got her feeling like shirking her responsibilities but yet  -  here she is.  ❛  we’re  immortal,  it’s  not  like  time  is  a  big  deal  these  days.  ❜

     ❛  please,  steal  me.  nothing  important’s  goin’  on.  ❜

     wretched thing, it promises dreams so vivid and real she could taste them. it pleads with her, not speaking aloud beyond broken cries. it knows it’s death is waiting, and oh it tries it’s best to beseech her with words spoken in a voice that doesn’t belong to them. wu ming, she closes her eyes and laughs, and it’s light and airy as the sword is handed to her. she shoves it into the eye of the creature, piercing it’s brain before gutting it like a piece of meat.           ❛  they  really  think  they  can  trick  with  speech,  it’s  annoying.  ❜

                       it’s been a long time since lady efrideet saw herself as anywhere close to the legends of jolder, felwinter and forge. she had reverted back to her usual hunter ways but when representing the iron banner she put back on the armor of the long dead lords. intimidation isn’t a rarity, though it is misplaced. her hand raises slightly, as if to erase his trepidation.  ❛  you’re  fine,  are  you  alright?  i’ve  been  getting  so  distracted  by  decorations !  ❜

        her sense of duty defined her, and there was a time where drifter had benefited from that. it felt like yesterday when she was playing bodyguard, it was on behalf of the iron lords but too, it’d been something else. something that blossomed into whatever this was. there’s the faintest laugh that drifts from her lips, she knows he’ll have a spot for her up until the day has come and she walks away, but she won’t. not this time, because after this there is no coming back.  ❛  i  was  planning  on  it,  if  you  want  me  around.  ❜

             there were no days of rest for the guardians, and the tower were always buzzing with some goings on.  efrideet hand found herself back in a cycle not too dissimilar from her life as an iron lord. there was an odd peace with it, it felt right to be back at work, but there would always be a longing to put down her weapon, a longing that would remain buried in the depths of her soul. even now, as she checks and double checks her armor and weapons, elara bouncing around in the back, she feels her mind racing. distracted by nothing and by some odd miracle: everything. no one pulls her thoughts quite like the drifter, though. as he speaks, she lowers her weapon back onto the shelf.   ❛  not  at all,  ❜  she breathes with a smile, even if she did have something it could and would wait. her head tilts, brown eyes watching him curiously. ❛  is  something  wrong?  ❜

          the drifter was nothing if not cautious, there was no detail to be spared and no plan that was un-plotted. lady efrideet had wished the iron lords would’ve been so diligent, maybe then they’d still be here. there was no sense in weeping anymore, though for the chapter had closed and siva laid dormant once more. she shifts slightly, crossed arms drop as shoulders shrug.  ❛  you  still  have  that  extra  seat ?  ❜   //   @driiftcr: cont.