gorgug thistlespring: what is the kindest thing someone has ever done for you?

Oh god so many things!  People are so incredibly nice to me all the time, so I don’t think I have a particular answer for this one.  Some of the bigger things that immediately jump to mind are my roller derby friends, who have helped me immensely in learning the sport, and just being great people to lean on.  Also one of my professors, he has given me a great opportunity, and is just brightens my day so much with how enthusiastic he is about his students.  Also, the d20 community for being so welcoming, and a great source of comfort for me in these harder times!

cathilda the black: give us a fantasy high headcanon!

I’ve already gotten this, so I guess I’ll give another one??  This one again is very silly, but I really like the idea that whenever Ayda stays in Mordred Manor she ends up sleeping hanging upside down from the rafters of one of the towers, probably Adaine’s lol 

The day was an endless stream of tribulations, and Rafael was entirely aware that he was, at best, stumbling through it all. A storm over the city made every walk a trudge through mud that made it take twice as long to get anywhere, the horse he had been sent to try and purchase had thrown a shoe, the farrier had turned out to be the brother of someone Rafael had punched in the tavern the night before, the fence had been in the process of being arrested as Rafael turned down the lane to speak with him...

And to top it off all, as he dismounted in front of the inn they were staying off, he caught his boot in the stirrup, losing his balance as he tried to get his footing. He stumbled to the side, sending a spray of mud that splattered across a woman’s dress as his shoulder slammed into the building’s wall. He looked at the spread of mud across the finely decorated skirt, sighing in frustration at himself. “A thousand apologies to you, my lady, I was inexcusably clumsy, please allow me to-”

He looked up and realized the dress was worn by no one other than his Avalonian companion who watched his apology with an eager expression on her face. “Please, Rafael, don’t let me interrupt. You were about to offer some recompense?” A wicked smile curled her lips as she leaned forward. “Or I’ll make it simple. Kiss me and I’ll forgive you.”

Rafael watched her, warring emotions in the back of his mind. Talking to her was like taking on a knife fight, but one where he wasn’t entirely sure of the weapons involved. Even being raised in Montaigne didn’t quite prepare him for her.

(Not to mention that something about her made him wary in ways he couldn’t quite phrase, but reminded him of the whispers he heard when his porte master had taken him on a jaunt through the other world...)

Then again, it had been quite a while since he’d kissed anyone. And she was beyond lovely.

Girda slumped back against the chair and let her eyes fall closed as she caught her breath. It had been a hard fight, but they made it through in one piece. Mostly.

“Are you hurt?”

She cracked an eye open and peered at the tiefling staring down at her. “No,” she replied, her eyes closing again.

“Then... why are there bruises all over your face?”

Girda huffed out a laugh. “Because I just got the shit kicked out of me by a giant pumpkin monster, kid.”

“So you are hurt?”

“No.”

“But--”

“I’ll be fine, Rezzi.”

of course! it’s 16+ as in 16 OR older, not older than 16, so you’re already eligible to try out! good luck!

-juskla

“Wake up! Please wake up!”

Rezzi’s voice drifted into Christoph’s awareness, like it was floating through a web of cotton fluff. Actually, a lot of things felt like cotton fluff right now- Christoph’s head, the dry taste in his mouth, his left hand. Beyond that, though, he felt like... Ow. He felt like he’d been hit by a horse, and then hundreds of tiny burning needles. Every inch of his body ached in ways he hadn’t felt since he’d fought an ogre back in the cavalry. Ow.

He forced his eyes open, pushing himself up to his elbows, and Rezzi sat back, obvious relief on her face. She didn’t look much better than Christoph felt- her blue skin flecked with spots of blood, her hair a mess, her eyes wide with panic. “Are you okay?” She wiped dirt off on to her skirt, her voice full of worry.

RIP

Feeling the presence of someone over her, Girda’s eyes shot open, and she had to take a second to focus on the face hovering over her instead of reaching for her weapon immediately.

That had taken... a bit of training.

When her eyes finally did focus, she was able to make our the details. Blue. Horns. Tongue stuck out in concentration. 

“Rezzi,” she grumbled accusatorially, eyes falling closed again. “Why is it always you?”

“Why don’t you have any freckles?”

Girda’s blinked an eye open again. “Come again?”

Rezzi poked the half-orc’s face. “You were like, a pirate right? Spent a lot of time on the open sea, in the sun! So why don’t you have freckles?!”

Girda sighed and waved her hand away, rolling onto her side and away from the tiefling. “Maybe I do have them and I just don’t want you to see them,” Girda mumbled.

“...Is that a thing?”

Girda sighed sleepily and shrugged. “You don’t know.”