#breandan

Your money or your life!

17. More Heroes

The study, nowadays, is used more for her lover’s work than how it was in those earlier suns: this little warm starlight of a room still alive in the manor’s creaking nights. A space of pleasure in which she spilled apart books untouched and unloved by a man who, in his last moments, had apparently creaked as much as the flooring of the hallway outside. But sometimes when she roams this building without its master, a difference of schedules or the other woman lulled to sleep, she makes her way back. And she continues her progress through the nearly suffocating amounts of shelves and never-used literatures.

There was a small break in the rp, avd not much had happened. Toffee is currently in an rp lock with someone who hasn't responded, so i only have "Wayne" and Wolfy scenes. How've because of the lack of content in air to post the full scene from today, avd greatest yesterday, because there were not over 10 pictures. This post features art drawn by one if my very best friends Wafflers, who I don't believe had Tumblr. Wolfy belongs to this Wafflers.

Esredes’ pace as he came home was quicker than usual. He opened the door and shut and locked it behind him as if he were in a hurry, pulling curtains over the window and hanging his coat and bag on the wall rack, then immediately going for that hidden compartment inside his desk. He pulled out a piece of paper that at first looked blank, but sure enough, the ink slowly revealed itself on the page, written in that old time code his faction had used throughout the war. Esredes rushed up the stairs with the paper, and sparked the fireplace to life, standing back as it slowly roared to life. And yet, once the fire got going, his hands didn’t move from his side to throw it in. They just stood glued there as reality settled back in around him. I can’t. Today had been such a good day- it was one of those rare days where everything went right. He had gone to Drachenhome to read up for his upcoming job offer and Silvestre and Breandan had been nice and kind to him, Silvestre with that infectious optimistic gentle giant demeanor that made him feel ready for the upcoming, and Breandan with his usual quiet and relaxed personality that Esredes had come to find comfortable. He linkpearled with Hilda about upcoming plans, and was reminded of how far they had come since they had first met, how much she seemed to genuinely trust him now after being afraid of seeing him in public for so long. Ferrant had linkpearled him about an hour later to talk about plans for work tomorrow, but he and the ever so kind lord had also ended up talking about their mutual gratitude towards each other for all they had done for one another. Fiona had found him on the street and given him a cupcake. How nice of the lovely little disguised dragon, he almost always liked seeing her appear in her cute little default outfit with that eternally present cheery demeanor. Then while he was doing his Crozier shopping, he had run into Raine, Adriaux, and Alaice all together, and had a pleasant conversation about baked goods with them as he continued his shopping. Once he was past the Crozier, he ran into Aramis out and about- for what he had no idea, but most times these two encountered each other Aramis had a few questions to ask immediately about what he was up to and how things had been, questions from the former investigator that had lost their level of discomfort for Esredes they had previously held. So he was content to stop and talk with the man for a few minutes as if talking to a friend before saying goodbye and moving on. He had been invited to dinner with Lisette and Trystan at their manor, so that was his next stop. An hour and a half of good food and conversation left him feeling satisfied once he left, but halfway through his walk home, the sudden urge of anxiety kicked in, and brought him to where he was now. He had overdosed on that light feeling. That warm feeling that made him feel whole, that tried to shrink the black matter in his heart. What else could make him so anxious as to get this close to burning the list of names? Burn it, one side of him said. You know you can’t keep doing this forever. People will find out you’re giving out names to Dark Knights. You’ll be dragged off to an Inquisitor’s chamber so they can open up the treasure trove of information you have in you, and all these people who believe in you will turn on you. You’ll lose everything. Just stop. But if you burn it, who will protect you…? Who will further your goals? The other side reminded him as it brought him back to reality. He did not just write down any names on this list— this was a list of threats. People who could destroy him, and all of his people, and everything he worked for, if they found out what he was. One way or another, they had to be routinely dealt with, shoved out of the picture so they could continue to live their daily lives, or else his progress could be undone. Yes, if he destroyed it, who could protect him? It wasn’t Ferrant. He couldn’t resort to underhanded tactics. It wasn’t Raine, she had a reputation to uphold. Breandan was too neutral and questionable in his choices of people to befriend. Hilda was a Chasseur, that would be ruining her entire career. Alaice was not a fighter or a being capable of doing such things, he would never force that on her, and neither was Lisette. And Adriaux? He wasn’t sure about that one yet, but he doubted it would go over well. Fiona would probably tell him to do something peaceful or find another way, or stop showing up to meetings entirely. Trystan he already had an awkward enough relationship with- no way was he destroying the image he had built up with him of being a good and reasonable person after he had nearly killed him during the war and given him that scar on his abdomen. Silvestre believed in peace- and there was no way in hell he was asking his potential employer. Maybe Aramis would agree to it, he would find a way to do it that had no one hurt. But even then, he had just gotten him to accept that Esredes might be a good person. The investigator- the Arbiter who had killed his kind before- would absolutely figure out what he had already done, and all of that would go down the drain. No, for as much as he loved all of them, this was something he couldn’t ask of them. Esredes put out the fire. After he put it back in its compartment, he ended up just sitting there in front of the fire with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring into the flame that was not there. That was close. That was too close. Never before had he gotten this close to burning the paper before he had given it out. Sure, over all the time he’d been back, that anxiety had only become more and more prominent when there had just been anger and apathy over the consequences before, but never had so much happened at once. And as the overdose wore off, reality was hitting even harder. You forgot, he told himself. You forgot for a second that you weren’t like them. You forgot that they’re the virtuous ones, and you’re the one who’s pretending to be like them. Even the monsters, even the ones who have something to atone for- how did they manage to still become such a way? And here he was, still the same person as always, still the man with a persistently black heart, built for a specific role and incapable of change. Even all their good will combined could do nothing to clear his mind and his heart, to make all those thoughts go away. Corpses in the snow, blades and spears ripping his flesh apart, the vulnerable and broken eyes of those discarded by the city- His heart kept beating. They were believing in nothing. He could shapeshift into the perfect heretic all he wanted, but it didn’t change that their forgiveness was given on a form that wasn’t real. Oh, how many of them would turn away if they saw his true form…? He needed them just as much as his own people- but his own people needed him too. And so that was that. He could never burn the list. He always had to exist in both worlds- crossing over to one permanently wasn’t an option. Yes, of course. Esredes laid down on the wooden floor and stretched his legs out, his arms following suit above his head. Which hell is a doomed creature like yourself going to? He asked himself, much as he had many times before. How many of your companions will join you? How many will be forgiven enough to escape? Could they come up with something worse than the Inquisitors or even myself could have to punish me? And how many people will escape punishment because you took it for them? His tail sprouted into existence, creeping out from under his pants and rising up from the floor, flicking that black diamond on the end of it around. Black horns manifested out of his forehead. His skin turned red, and his fingernails blackened and lengthened into claws. Esredes closed his eyes and began laughing there on the floor. Ah, come back to me, my miserable reality. What is it we have to do by the end of the week, yes? There is always so much to do, and oh, does work never stop when you’re a harrier. Bring me into your embrace, and plunge me back into the cold, icy waves I’ve made my home. The work won’t stop until I finally burn away, and succumb to the fate of all creatures like me.

“Hey...” “Hm?” “This was a good idea.” “... Yeah.”