#leadthysouls

Chocolate-dipped strawberries: lustCherry pie: adorationSugar cookies: shyness

#4: My muse in nothing but a towel. 

Muse was currently tearing apart her bedroom, the damp towel wrapped around her body. Her wet hair was put up in a quick bun, tendrils still sticking to the back of her neck in spite of her trying to throw it all up so it wouldn’t fall into her face. Boxes had been thrown open, her vanity cluttered a-new, and she had searched around her dresser, hunting for something she was determined to find.She didn’t give much thought to her current state of undress; she was in her own home, in the privacy of her room. She had fastened the towel around her as best as she could anyway, the white fabric hugging her hips from all the movement, and the top wanting to slip from under her arms. It was only a little distracting as she had to wriggle everything back into place every few minutes, but she could manage for now. The only person she really had to worry about was Avaline, and even then, she could probably help her.

She had just been gathering books she had left in the sitting room when she had heard the voice. She rolled her eyes, thinking nothing of it but the remark of a dear friend, so engrossed she was in her own thoughts as she cleaned. She turned as she spoke to see who was there."Well, maybe because it’s the tru- GYAH!"Upon seeing him, she nearly dropped everything in her arms. She caught them, only to practically hold them up as a shield, her hazel eyes huge as they peeked out over the the egdes.

Morgana paled, her hands shaking as she back away from the strange wizard. “No… No, no, no! What have yah done?!?” She shouted, grabbing the genderless wizard’s shoulders and shaking them roughly. “This sort of thin’ never works out in a good way! The person that is comin’ back is…” her eyes widened and she let go of the wizard.

"Why do we have to go to Burgess?" Camalus asked as he climbed into the wheelchair and pulled a blanket over his tail.

"Go visit yahr sisters. NOW." Morgana sighed as she hurried her youngest children out of the palace, closing the portal before a goblin ran over and let her know. "Right. Act like nothin’ changed an’ he should buy it. If not… Ah’m runnin’ ta Muse." She fixed her dress and walked to the main hall. "Dagda."

The man, a tall brunet with dark tattoos, observed the palace’s hustle and bustle with the same bored look that he’d always observed them with. His time dead hadn’t affected the muscles that she’d both learned to slightly love and fear. “Morgana. Yah changed the tapestries. Where’s Oenghus? He ought ta be greetin’ his da’.”

She took a shakey breath. She had to explain herself now. “Oenghus… Oenghus tried ta kill Brigid. Ah had ta send him away. An’ the tapestries were changed after-” She felt the ring dig in to her skin when Dagda backhanded her and she stumbled back a step.

"YAH HAD NO RIGHT!" He shouted and she balled up her fists in restrained anger. She’d spent so many years building up to be the woman the Celts had thought she was; she’d even taken down Camelot! She pulled back her left fist and punched him as hard as she could, smirking when she noticed that he stepped back further than she had.

Muse had been reading as the Viking teased her with all kinds of comments, trying to his best to get her attention. A smile had crept onto her face by his continued antics at least.

When his hand slid up her thigh, however, that certainly got her attention even more. She squealed, the book nearly flying from her hands as he kissed her jaw.

Name: Drago

Gender: Male

General appearance: Looks like his father, but sturdier. Basically a Paavo clone, but takes after his mother in terms of bone structure. Lots of ginger hair that’s been calmed down a bit and sea green eyes.

Personality: Is deceptively quiet and serious. Under the silence is a rather bright and cheerful boy, he just doesn’t talk much. When he grows older he gets mistaken for angry when he’s really just not very talkative.

Special talents: Hunting and fighting. He and Ava get a long very well. He’s especially good at tracking, trapping, and archery. 

Who they like better: Paavo, but only because they share silence very easily, and because his father trains with him a lot. He goes to his mother more for emotional comfort when something goes wrong though. 

Who they take after more: Muse, but only if you get him talking can you tell. 

"WAAH—!!" 

Sterling almost stumbled backwards from the short lad’s sudden appearance, but quickly hovers up a few feet near the ceiling.