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axsel of lavrik ( alexander dreymon ) — intro / visage / musing / threads

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st0rmeye — a depended blog affiliated with ignisetmors, featuring a witcher who longs for revenge. penned by n.
axsel of lavrik ( alexander dreymon ) — intro / visage / musing / threads

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@forgctmenct (savya) / entrance to novigrad
their house have been gone for years, between the anti-witchers that destroyed their home and the jealous mages who wanted to know even more magic and were denied, it was only a matter of time before their house fell, at least he was still had somewhat of a connection with his fellow griffins, even if axsel isn't known to walk far from skellige, a home he returned to after the school fell.
"you cheated!" axsel laughed as he jumped off his horse, he and savya had decided to on a friendly competition, a horse race around the outskirts of novigrad and the winner will buy the other a drink during the festivities of the solstice. "i don't know if that gets you drink, dear savya." his grin was clearly teasing, she was gonna get that drink whatever axsel won or lost.
@lavendarseagreen (apollo ) / butcher's yard
the thing about having to live for so many years means that memories are often forgotten or blended together, axsel could see someone and then years and years later they would be older and changed while he stayed the same, he has become used to that and there were plenty of fellow witchers and mages who are just the same, so the world for him doesn't change much, but still he cannot be expected to remember anybody.
as part of the celebrations, the butcher's yard have had it's own preparations and several shows and a friend has managed to convince axsel to go see one, and he the ever the fool accepted with booze by his side as he watched the show that seemed to be successful given the applause. after said show, his friend seemingly disappeared and as the crowed dwindled, axsel sighed and got up- time to back to whatever tavern will take him for the night. that was, until he heard his name being called and turned around. "yes?"
@insaticte (yair) / kingfisher's inn
the more he's here in novigrad, the more axsel longs for his way back home. the heat in this place is nearly unbearable at this time but what is he to do? some things are more important than the weather. and despite all that he feels, patience is all he is forced to have, but that doesn't mean he will stay idle, no. if they call for his restraints, he will make his time in this town worth it, by drinking, laying gwent, taking contracts around and enjoying the brothels.
kingfisher inn is already packed full of people and the solstice hasn't even started yet. between patrons getting drinks and people dancing around trying to get others to spend more of their coin. "and i'll be taking this, thank you." axsel grinned from ear to ear as he won another game of gwent from a poor patron, when he saw in the corner of his eye yair.
"old man!" he called out, there was now a chair available now that the loser got up and left. "come, i'll buy you a drink." he gave the man a cocky grin. "game of gwent? i warn you though, i'll probably win."
@stexdfxsthexrt / hierarch square
to the outside world there was no rage, there was no need for blood to be shed in axsel's eyes. he still overslept when it suited him, he still drank fools under the table, still visited the brothels. and one would tell him that he was clearly uses all of that as a distraction, he would grin and say nothing. that's how he works, he cannot drown in his misery, axsel always found aways to move forward, even if he had to fake it to get there.
the irony of preparing for a solstice that celebrates life when there's so much death surrounding them. axsel knows that he will participation in the celebrations, only because doing nothing will drive him towards insanity. but there was one person it was hard to hide anything from because they felt the same way, just like the same blood that runs through their veins.
he approaches behind celeste, clearing his throat. "she would find it charming, although a waste of time." axsel shrugged his shoulder. he knew that celeste was blaming him for not being here, he blamed himself as well but no matter what she's feeling he's not going to lose another sister.

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[ alexander dreymon, cisman, forty (one hundred and forty eight), he/him ] in novigrad, names have a way of reaching the wrong ears, and AXSEL OF LARVIK is one spoken more often than most. the WITCHER has lingered in the city for A MONTH, working as a WITCHER (SCHOOL OF THE GRIFFIN). depending on who you ask they’re either CONFIDENT or CARELESS. the eternal fire has yet to decide which. their presence is steeped in THE LONGING FOR THE WINTER BACK HOME, THE KNOWING SMIRK OF VICTORY WHEN DEALING WITH AN ENEMY and FIGHTING THE URGE OF MINDLESS REVENGE, the kind that draws attention… and not always the right kind. speak carefully. the pyres are always hungry.
The Last Kingdom | 3.03 Alexander Dreymon as Uhtred of Bebbanburg