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dirgeforthedead asked:
"I can't tell if you're being silly or serious."
Black eyes narrow a bit as he looks at his companion, as lovely as she is, with no shortage of consternation. "I said what I said, and I meant it. No. More. Silverware. At. My. Table. If eating with your hands is good enough for you, my sweet, then it's good enough for the patriars we sup with."
dirgeforthedead asked:
"I'm free now, and I'm never going back."
How quickly he closes the distance between them, and how tenderly he takes her face in his hands. Calloused, rough, but always so gentle with her, like she was a china doll. "Perish the thought, Darling. Your blood doesn't control who you are, no more than mine does me. You're so much *more* than your father's spawn. No one will reduce you to that, not as long as I'm here. On that you have my word."
morethandarkness asked:
" you're teasing me now. " [ Thraeya ]
"A little, perhaps." He concedes, that gregarious smile claiming his lips as he gives her a rather amused look. His beautiful Thraeya! Head tilted, lips pursed, *perplexed* as she looks at him and his heart sings. "Will you forgive me?"
Too Clever for His Own Good
A thread for @thishouseofhope
It was as if the harder he was hit, the boy got more stamina, but in reality the pain simply hadn't set in. Not yet. That would be for later, alone, when his cries wouldn't be overheard by any. Now, now he was a product of his enviroment, fire and fury and brimstone and ash. Black eyes burned like coals as the skinny whelp of a boy got back to his feet, wiping the blood that was clogging his nostrils, choking him when he breaths. Can't talk shit while gagging on blood, after all.
"Hit me again, it don't make you right. I ain't gonna fess up to shit I didn't do, when I intend to ruin this place, you'll KNOW IT!"
He throws himself at the much larger hellspawn, who simply backhands him again, sending him bodily flying into the metal machinery that Enver had gotten back to functioning. He's frighteningly still for a moment, but sure as anything, he climbed back up to his feet -- barely managing that and yet, stubbornness is a human's defining trait. Up, battered, bloodied, and ready to go until he simply could not get back up.
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Rumor Has It
A thread for @shadovan
Neverwinter. A despicable place for a Baldurian like Enver to end up. Every bit of infrastructure was being internally criticized as he maneuvered through the repulsive crowd.
The only thing this city had on Baldur's Gate was a rather interesting rumor, one that caught his attention and held it until he finally broke down and took a portal to the so called Jewel of the North. Prodding a few of the locals confirmed the rumors: they believed a lich lived in the haunted mountains to the north. None seemed at all bothered by this, of course, and Enver refused to believe it until he investigated himself.
The rumors suggest the lich was a peddler of the odd potion and tincture, something the locals found valuable, so his first stop was the Apothecary that seemed to be the hub of the stories. The pungent smell greeted him as he entered and he barely contained a grimace. Between the ingredients and the potions brewing in the back it was an assault on the senses. "I'm looking for a lich." Enver declares loud enough for the entirety of the store to overhear. Sharp, calculating eyes quickly scan over the patrons and workers nervous reaction to such a bold statement, following the furtive glances to find the person they were all avoiding looking at.
