#illithidtouched

Are you afraid of your brother?

The instant answer is a sharp, biting "No." The truth, however, couldn't be further. The truth is more complex. The truth is changing. Subconsciously, his hand goes to his temple and rubs a small circle where the black and purple hues of bruising had covered, his mind goes to his back, which still hurts some, and then to his heart and finally his own mind.

He's cracking under the additional pressure this shitstorm has brought upon them. Doesn't know what it's going to take to make Birvor realise.

To say he isn't scared of the half-orc is a bare-faced lie, he is, but it's not Birvor himself he's scared of. It's of what Birvor is capable of. What he will do to him. What he will do to Veszdrin. What he's done already. How he's changing. His hand falls, gloved fingers curling in the fabric above his heart. Gods. He hates it. He's terrified of the rages - always has been - but now they seem more dangerous and unpredictable and there's more than just him. He's scared for when even Kim can't get through to him.

His mind flits back to the night at the lake. Maybe he should just let go. Let himself be controlled. Maybe he should let Vesz go. At least he'd be alive-- Maybe he should give up. Something inside him twists at the thought. He thinks of Veszdrin--and there's tears welling before he can stop them. they're promptly wiped away with the back of his hand. It'd be better for the camp. For everyone around him, really. Just not for him, but when had that mattered?

He has a recurring theme of being simultaneously interested in and appalled by red-headed magic users.

One could argue it started in childhood when he was very into the adventures of Drizzt tales that featured another heart throb (you know aside from Drizzt-) in form of Catti-brie. So when his brother's red-headed friend @illithidtouched 's Veraia began to hang around House Cragdew on occasion (mainly stuffy parties), Birvor developed a kid crush on her in his tweens since she resembled Drizzt's lover.

Then one day he ended up walking in on her having a red-hot lesbian romp with one girl that was supposed to be one of Ren's suitors. Afterwards, he'd be a lot more snippy at her, his annoyance and aggression a combination of him feeling she betrayed Ren by doing that (even though Ren's gay and didn't care tbh) and because his kid crush got crushed and being extra rude and unaccommodating towards her helps him #cope. Plus his actual existence would evaporate if she ever found out about any of that so he keeps the defensive front up hella hard.

[This will make you stronger... this will help.] The sentiment wasn't spoken, but he felt it in his head from the mind flayer before them. He believed it. Believed it like he wanted to believe that his services still mattered to the Cragdew-... still had the capability of keeping him safe. Even though deep down he knew that for all the recent battles they'd been thrown into, he had done the least damage. He had been the most work for the rest of them to watch over. He'd encumbered them. Like the tadpoles weighing them all down now. He felt...heavy.

When Ren flung the offered tadpole away into the craggy recesses of the astronaut they all stood upon in the Astral plain, he felt a knife sink into his chest. Something trying its best to protect what it had burrowed into-... screaming out like he did in his rages, and thrashing when held down with nothing but a word. He waited until the rest of the party had begun to trot off without him- ... yet again. His eyes firmly squeezed shut could not detangle the worm's screeches for help below his feet.

He stooped...collected it in his glove. And in his open palm where it thrashed he saw- the last remnants of Ren's smile when he'd last earned it as a child. He wanted it so badly-...to the point where, with a tilt of his hand, he popped the tadpole inside his mouth and swallowed heavily, eyes burning with a prick of something warm and wet. If he'd been a better brother-...a better friend, then maybe it wouldn't have come to this.

patroclus

patroclus, from the iliad by homer: doomed by fate to be stuck in a love story that has no place on the battlefield. although you always have the best intentions, you have to realize you cannot save everyone. your unwavering loyalty means you often lose yourself in the process of putting others first. take a deep breath, remember who you are, and that you are deserving of the same love you try to put out. you are kind, you are strong, and you give and you give but it is never enough to protect those you love. in the end, it's not even enough to protect yourself.

you know what you did :@illithidtouched

"Try every time you have actually listened to me instead of running off to do your own hotheaded half thought out plan!" Oriel bellowed back, for the first time since the damned crash losing her temper with the fire sorceress. It was bad enough Oriel had to heal Veraia and the others every time they returned to camp, but being blamed for failures that weren't down to her idea or planning but the short temper of the sorceress and the bad influences in their camp, no she wasn't glaring at Astarion, and Oriel would not stand for it.

"I am logical, calm and I think strategically, I put up with the squabbles and infighting, I deal with the injuries and being a shoulder to cry on for nearly everyone in this damn camp and get nothing but lackluster gratitude and blame for plans that go awry because of tempers and emotion gets in the way! I am done with it! I am done with all of you! I know you lost your wife in that crash, Veraia, and I know your family being on the opposing side makes this harder for you but I lost my wife too! I lost the only family I have in this world! I have no one else, whereas you do!"

AS SAID BY KARLACH || Open!

Halsin chuckled, offering the sparrow on his shoulder another seed from the pouch at his waist. " I have found that those who do not spend as much time in nature as a druid do not speak of it with the same reverence as myself or another druid. "

He then glanced up at their guest from where he sat comfortably tucked between the roots of a large tree. With most of the rest of their companions tracing other leads for possible tadpole extraction or tying up other loose ends before traversing to the Shadow-Cursed lands and Moonrise Tower, the druid took the time to bask in the glory of the sun and unblighted nature at any possible opportunity. He could only guess how long it would take to lift the curse and, Silvanus willing, find a way to cure his allies of their parasites in the cursed walls of Moonrise. Returning to the region for any extended amount of time set his skin crawling, riled his nerves, and needled at the guilt he felt over the curse's creation. How he could not stop it, and for the lives lost when Shar's shadows choked out the light.

Still, he was far more eager to get to work. To find Thaniel and restore balance to the region.