tangled like branches in a flood

As she flinches, a surge of anger flares in his chest, to think that something has made Satine so afraid. It's driving him mad, but then she relaxes, and all he wants to do is take her in his arms and hold her. The grip on the darksaber gets tighter as he fights the urge, the possessiveness that bubbles in his gut at seeing her again.

He wants to reach out and soothe the jagged edges of her scar, at least to take away the memory and the pain. Instead, Bron'ig keeps his eyes fixated on her, watching for any microexpression that she can possibly make to show her distaste. He loves her, but she is a politician after all.

For the first time since she's died, he feels like he's breathing in fresh air. Her approval surges through him in a powerful wave as the dark side curls its way around him again; it almost feels like it's laughing gleefully.

A dangerous, possibly manic, glint sparks in his eyes as his lips twist in a smirk.

( OF COURSE SHE APPROVES. )

The words tickle the inside of his ears as if spoken directly next to him. It causes him to shudder at the ensuing thrum of power that flows through him from his chest, down his arm, and into the saber. The crystal feels at least a little happier.

Hope blossoms in his chest for what seems like the first time in a lifetime.

Satine's brows furrow slightly at the question before she shakes her head. "To join you," she says. "I've kept being alive a secret for a long time. I would not risk exposure for that kind of justice. It'd be empty. And I--" She falters for a moment-- when was the last time she said it? "I love you too much."

After all this time, in her own complicated way. Her love for him is in her very being, deep in her marrow.

She steps forward, hesitantly at first before she puts her temple on his shoulder. She closes her eyes, feeling a twinge of doubt before it's replaced with relief. Relief to have found him.

by default, rhys trusted no drow stranger on sight, especially so on the surface. there was always an equal chance that another drow was either an escapee, like himself, or a spy or a raider from menzoberranzan or sshamath. the question was dangerous to ask, but better to know who was a threat and who needed no more attention from himself.

but if he had to decide, at a glance, the drow he had just rescued from a band of absolutist cultists seemed . . . perhaps more on the 'safe to ignore' side of the spectrum than the 'be wary of at all times' side. the most peculiar thing he noticed was that the man floated about, like some sort of dandelion seed, rather than walking on his feet. strange, but not dangerous. rhys could levitate too, if he had need of it. “if you are heading towards baldur's gate, you should know that the road through moonrise towers is cursed.”

Essek is the most disheveled he's ever been. One silver ear cuff is gone, his hair is askew, his robes dirty from waking up unconscious in the middle of nowhere. But still, he drifts. Feet slightly pointed towards the ground, not quite touching the dirt. Drifts all the way into the wrong side of a conflict with some cultists.

younger sister of jace and luke, older than joffrey

fiercely protective of her brothers, intentionally distant from her father and partial to her mother

understands that the part of their bloodline that matters is the t.argaryen part, not v.elaryon.

h.arwin taught her how to fight along with the boys bc she asked him to

closer to her stepsisters after l.aenor's death, since she understood their grief a little more than she understood her brothers'.

her dragon is mostly grey with some red. name tbd.

baeleria is probably her name after the dragon

【 HALFS1CKOFSHADOWS: 】 an  independent  multi-muse  roleplay  blog  of low to medium activity, that is mutuals exclusive. includes muses from fandoms such as: twilight (anti-s.meyer), the hunger games, asoiaf universe, greek mythology and the horror genre. adored by ophelia,  30+,  they/she,  central  time  zone. this  blog  is  multi-ship, multi-verse. minors and personal blogs, dni. please read my rules. CARRD &. MUSES &. RULES &. GRAPHICS

she’s not sure how long she’s been sitting there. nor does she notice marin when she first steps into the council chambers. the only thing vaelyra knows for certain is that she’s overwhelmed with this gnawing grief that has taken hold of her. while she hadn’t been present at the gullet herself, baela had recounted the entire ordeal well enough. and there’s no quelling the pain she feels at her brother’s loss. 

“mother will be disheartened by such news,” the princess all but whispered. she finally looked up at marin — her own eyes puffy and red-rimmed. “but we all appreciate your efforts. perhaps i can join you tomorrow and we can start the search again.” vaelrya swallowed thickly, trying to keep her composure.

"I'm sorry for it," Marin says earnestly. She comes and sits at the table beside Vaelrya. It feels odd to sit at it, but in this moment, it feels right to give her step sister some comfort. Jace is-- fuck, no, was-- one who had always been kind to her. Glad, even, for her presence in his own stoic way. Kind recognizes kind, or something like that.