Mar 19, 2017
jazz hands i call this one coping
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jazz hands i call this one coping
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(IDK HOW CANON THIS IS IT JUST WON'T LEAVE MY BRAIN). He'd followed them, under shadow and silence. A man on a mission, away from the rest of his group. He'd told Viel that he'd needed... Time alone. And surely Vielyn understood. But he wasn't planning to sit and mourn, at that grave. Not when he'd heard voices on their travels. Seen another drow in the distance. A drow who was carrying... Something. Or someone, rather. Someone who was important to him. He hadn't wanted to make a scene. Drag his charge into a fight over someone he's not SUPPOSED to form attachments to, really. So he'd gone it alone. Stayed hidden. Stayed back so that he couldn't be seen. Waited for the other to drop the most precious cargo he'd been carrying. And then Merdrin was upon him. Sword at his throat, and a dark hiss in his ear. "What. Did you do. To my brother." Uh oh.
By the nine hells, Sol can't catch a single break down here! First a dinosaur, now a sword. Maybe fate just hates his ass.
He placed Rin down for not even a whole minute and there's a blade at his throat. And their tiefling companion is off scouting the area to make sure it'll be okay to set up camp... Well. Clearly she missed a threat. And the gods only know when she'll return. Sol's on his own.
He makes a strangled little sound, trying to ask the stranger to move the blade but- ... 'Brother'? Oh. By the gods, that would make this mystery man the man, the myth, the legend himself!
"Merdrin, I take it?" He asks, quietly so as to not make Merdrin feel... twitchy with that sword. He's not calling out for help. Prommy. Just... trying to get Mer to back up a little. "Rin's fine. He's okay. He just burned himself out with that magic of his." That doesn't explain the fact he's clearly taken a few extra bumps to the head, but it's a start. Hopefully.
“Hey, soldier. Want to be a little more careful?”
Her voice is light, but there is a hint of concern in her voice. You’re doing great, Solyn, really…
But like. Watch the guy you’re carrying around like a burlap sack, huh? She just had to watch his head bounce against about the third rock you’ve walked past. Shes pretty sure his nose is bleeding-
"Huh? What was that?" And he turns, of course, to face their tiefling companion. Only to hear a soft 'thunk' as poor Rin hits that same rock again. Then he follows her gaze and looks down to see bonky mcgee, mumbling a little 'ah, shit' as he struggles to shift how he's carrying him.
Bridal style it is, I guess.
"My bad. Normally I'm the one conked out getting carried." He tries to shrug it off, but she just looks a little horrified. Rin doesn't have enough braincells to justify you killing them off like this, Sol. Be careful.
I think Sol should meet Thelyre he's a bard he's probably DTF
"Stereotypes aren't always to be believed!" He informs you with a certain confidence to his voice before- Sol. He lifts his shirt to show you a thin, white line that runs between his ribs, under his armpit. "A lass of the bardic persuasion. Did not appreciate my advances. Made sure I knew that very, very well!" Man, he didn't even flirt all that much. Maybe she just wasn't impressed with an underelf shooting his shot.
Would Sol flirt with the Feral MILF if she WASN'T a dinosaur or is he strictly a Man's Man
She turns back to a humanoid form and he's like "Oh my bad I didn't realize you were gorgeous-" and she immediately psychic beams him more imagery of his demise.
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She does not speak to him through words. Nor through the tadpole that seems to connect most people these days. No, it’s a song in Solyns head. A harsh humming that’s as alien to the Myconids as it is to Sol. A clear message, as visions of him under her terrible claws dance through his head. She clicks her claws against the rocks, her frills shaking. You should probably run, Drow.
Run? Hah, hell no. He's not confident in his ability to outrun those powerful legs and nasty claws, but he's sure as hell not going to test her patience. Not when she's singing to him some horrific ballad of his own demise.
But clearly. There's sentience enough to threaten him, so he can communicate to some extent. So, he bows his head briefly - respectfully. To really make sure she knows he's leaving, even if she doesn't understand common words.
Imagine being Solyn in the Underdark getting too close to some of the myconid young. It’s not even the mushroom people that attack him. It’s a fucking dinosaur. A Druid. Say hi to Sabrae
He will NOT be saying hi to Sabrae. In fact, he won't be saying much of anything. He's holding his hands up to show he isn't a threat and trying to verrrry slowly back up. He didn't even mean to stumble this close to the myconid colony - it's been so long since he was in the underdark! How was he to know where the mushrooms made their home these days?
"Eaaasy now. I'm juuust passing through. Nooo threats." He's talking like she's a stray dog and not a literal dinosaur. Man. How the fuck is he meant to deal with a dinosaur.