#lynesse

Going along with this storyline: Prologue -> Here Fio Day 1 -> Here Xylaes Day 1 -> Here Pyraelia Day 1 -> Here

"Hey. Weird question. Do you have some time this week to come out to an Estate in Quel'thalas and get rid of a soul that's taken up shop in the body of the noblewoman that lives here? Hers is elsewhere at the moment, but I think this other one probably has to be out before the other one can go back in? No rush. I've got plenty of sedatives. Lmk."

The ridiculing snort-laugh that came out of Red’s mouth when he was shown the comm message from Lynesse made Taric smirk. Yes, he was well aware how this sounded. No, this was not his first time, nor Red’s first time,  in dealing with a wealthy person's body being inhabited by another soul - most likely brought on by said wealthy person’s desire to mess with cursed objects or locations. They weren’t exactly known for considering the consequences of their actions. He didn’t know the specifics yet, but a lot of assumptions could be made.

It wasn’t widespread knowledge, but those closer to Taric or Red would know that they have connections to the spirit world. A trait that runs in the male side of the Darkmorn family; being able to see and speak with spirits was the surface level trait, and the simplest explanation that would be given to anyone wanting details. But it went much deeper than that. They could traverse through the veil with ease, allow themselves to become possessed, trap souls, free souls…destroy souls, and more.

Taric had been ‘lucky’ enough to inherit the generation-skipping trait that gifted him sectoral heterochromia, causing his right eye to be half blue, half golden. ‘Half-in, half-out’ as he would describe it, being able to see whatever was beyond the veil and into the real world at the same time. Two planes of existence stacked atop each other. Not understanding what was happening as a child made for an extremely difficult time growing up, but now that he was older, this was simply his norm.

“So what do you think? I’m heading over today and you’re welcome to join. But uhh..this is more your wheelhouse.” The forcible removal of a foreign soul from a body, that is. Taric could do it, but Red was more experienced and much more apathetic about the souls and the people from which they would be removed.

“Is it anyone we know?” ‘Noblewoman’ meant money, but it also meant secrecy and having easy blackmail to hold over someone’s head should the need arise. 

“I don’t know yet. I won’t be given an address until I’m on my way.” Taric was just as in the dark, although he was well aware that Red might be familiar with whomever it may be, given the older man’s own time spent as a noble within Quel’thalas decades ago. Especially if they were of an elder bloodline, like the Darkmorns themselves.

“Well I can’t let you go by yourself on your birthday, now can I?”

Taric blinked a few times. Huh. How time flies and skews when you’re out in ‘the field’. He hadn’t even realized that his birthday was approaching, and now it was suddenly here. “Right. I guess it just slipped my mind. So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

At least this birthday would be interesting!

February 25 - Day 7 Event/Recovery

Ashraniel’s pleasant babbling filtered into the kitchen from where he was playing in the living room of Meryn’s row house. Her half-brother had been gracious enough to watch his four year old nephew for a week while she’d been preoccupied with other business.

Lyn smiled and palmed her mug of coffee, the warmth between her palms an extension of the comfort that enveloped this home that Meryn and his husband had built together over the years. He set a pot of cooking mint in the middle of the table in front of her before drawling, overly-pleased, in his low-Thalassian, “I’ve got some bad news for you, Lyn.”

Meryn only carried that tone when he was about to be extremely annoying, and she sat up a little straighter in preparation for whatever he was about to drop on her, “About a mint plant? It looks great, but you’ve always had the green thumb between the two of us.”

He had inherited their grandmother’s inclination toward nature magic, something he hadn’t really had time to nurture until later in his adult years; his grasp of it was middling at best, but he had managed to get her some of the freshest cooking herbs she’d ever managed to get her hands on.

His smirk grew as he held his hands out in presentation, pointing at the lush plant sitting pretty in front of her, “Y’owe me fifty gold.”

No. She’d only been away for a WEEK. Her long ears slanted back and her freckled nose wrinkled as she shot a glance toward the living room before narrowing her eyes at her brother. “Absolutely not, he’s four. There’s no way he’s gotten his magic yet and—”

Meryn cut her off with a pleasant shout toward the living room, “Hey Ash! You wanna tell yer mom about th’ plant?”

They both looked at the doorway when Ash toddled over, the top of a small wooden spire tower in his hand that he’d brought over with him from whatever little city he’d been building, “I fixed it, momma! Uncle Em said it was sad, and that made me sad, so every day I talked to it and now it’s happy!”

Her brother grinned, obnoxiously pleased at the simple explanation, “An’ now it’s his friend, so y’own a mint plant.”

Lyn did her best not to huff — this was actually a big event, even if Ash didn’t realize it, and as much as she’d hoped he’d be a Light user like her there had always been a solid chance that he’d be able to use any kind of magic. Ana, his long deceased aunt, had been an arcanist, and between the surrogacy and not knowing who Ash’s father actually was or what they had been capable of… well.

She smiled back at her son, proud (if not a little miffed that she’d missed such a significant milestone), “You did a good job, hon. Maybe you can help make a window box with your uncle sometime soon, and we can pick up a few more sad plants at the Bazaar market on our way home?”

Ash beamed and bounced in place, obviously excited by the prospect, “YEAH!”

Her brother chuffed a pleased laugh, “Fine, fine. I’ll draw up some plans,” he leaned in and stage-whispered at Lyn for effect, “an’ buy some materials with th’ fifty gold you owe me.”

Lyn sighed and unlaced the coin purse from her belt, ready to pay up on a bet well won.

Alicent to her sister

Lynesse took in a breath as Alicent stepped in front of her, momentarily stopping their father from approaching. Lyna was surprised albeit thankful for her sister's protection. Neither of them had dared to challenge Otto before, not that Alicent was challenging Otto, but they were defying him. Otto had revealed his plan to sell Lynesse to the North to further his plan to somehow put his own blood on the Iron Throne.

Lynesse backed away a bit as Otto gave the two of them a sharp look, "I won't do it." She shook her head.

Storyline Progression:

Fiorenze | September 22, 2021: Accomblish/Macabre Fiorenze | October 3, 2021: Memory/Chase Fiorenze | October 13, 2021: Immortal Fiorenze | Welcome, Theirastra Fiorenze | November 20, 2022: Neglect Fiorenze | November 23, 2022: Forest/Mortality Fiorenze | February DWC Prologue Fiorenze | February 19, 2023: Love is in the Air/Weakness Xylaes | February 19, 2023: Love is in the Air/Weakness Pyraelia | February 20, 2023: Opportunity/Eternity Taric | February 21, 2023: Consequence Lynesse | February 21, 2023: Velvet/Consequence  Sheizara | February 22, 2023: Influence/Distant Red | February 23, 2023: Ambition Fiorenze | February 23, 2023: Ambition/Relentless Xylaes | February 24, 2023: Devoted/Trauma Fiorenze | February 24, 2023: Devoted/Trauma

And to the North

@tessastormrp

Lynesse was huddled in the wheelhouse, a mountain of furs covering her lap and around her shoulders. She was shivering uncontrollably and just wanted to be warm again. Although she was somewhat afraid she would never be. She was not sure someone could be warm in the North unless they were born here. Only the wolves did not seem to mind the cold. Although Lynesse would be a wolf herself soon enough.

When her father first told Lynesse that she was to be sold to the North she did not understand, she also did not want it. Otto had explained it was the best way to gain the Stark's support. He knew that when war came Brandon was the kind of man to honor his vow to Rhaeynra. It was now Lynesse’s job to be his wife and to convince her Stark husband to support Aegon when the time came. She had been sent North as soon as possible in order to begin her work. Although she actively had no idea how she was supposed to persuade Brandon to abandon his oath, she knew enough of the man that he was not going to do that easily.

So, as Lynesse saw it she was leaving her home and her family for a faulty mission. She was leaving her nephews and her niece, who needed her. She did not want to leave them but she had no choice. Lynesse would be a good and obedient wife. She would do her duty and love her husband if she could, although she would still be leaving her home and everything she knew for a man she did not. But would not be the first woman to do so, and she would not be the last.

Leaving Icecrown was the hardest thing Jackary had to do - to not continue his search as Novarin and Sin both showed up to relieve the dragon of his post. They were there to remind Jackary that he still had a family he had to go home to and that his skills were desperately needed back in Orgrimmar.

Jack had shoved a picture of Darnath firmly against Novarin’s chest, glaring down at the snow in frustration. “If you see this man, you tell me instantly.” A command but with one arm in a sling and his ribs aching, Jack was in no mood to take ‘no’ for an answer.

Novarin took the picture carefully to look at it, the aged photograph of a selfie with Jack and Darnath that appeared to be at the cliffs in Booty Bay. “He’s cute,” Nova muttered, carefully pocketing the picture that seemed to have been with the Mage for far longer than one would admit to. “We’ll keep our eyes ou’ f’er ‘im, chief.”

Wings flared out, launching the dragon upwards into the sky after the confirmation. He would take one last look around but Jack was met with no such luck and thus the beast returned to Orgrimmar.

The night was spent in good company, Valarin and Sylrissa addressed the weak arm and not only cleaned it up but fixed the poor stitch job he had received the night before. He had stayed close to Dicenne, the comfort of being against the Bulwark eased the dull ache and the attachment the dragon had been that of a beast to their mortal. There was a calming feeling to be had sitting between Dice and Val.

Safety.

That was, until there was a notion that the Maw above Icecrown was actually sucking up souls and even killing them.The map Iratak had given Jackary stated very clearly that Darnath was in Icecrown, but when he scoured the entire snowy hellhole, not a single fraction of his Dragonsworn’s scent was to be found. If Lyn and Nara’s casual assumptions were right, then it was quite possible that Darnath may have fell victim to this.

The more Jackary thought it over, the more upset he felt himself becoming. No one here needed to see that side of him, he wasn’t comfortable enough for any of them, save one, to see the anxiety slowly building in his chest. But that brought another thought to his mind that was all the scarier.

“Hey, do you know how Frostwyrms are created?” It had been whispered in Dicenne’s ear, the uncertainty of Jack’s voice near failed him but he was answered with a small nod and a gaze that spoke louder than Dice’s voice could ever raise.

“If I... am in a situation where I will turn into one of those things, I want you to kill me... I don’t want to fight you.” He didn’t want to fight anyone, he didn’t want to be turned and controlled. There was a stunning realization that the idea of raising his claws towards Dicenne turned his stomach and made him sick.

Dicenne paused briefly but instead of giving verbal confirmation to give away their conversation and respecting that Jack seemed nervous to speak of it, he gave another small nod in understanding.

The elf received a murmured ‘thank you’ and a briefly lingering kiss to his cheek which brought a smile to the man’s face. Jack eased back after, opting to distance himself for a moment and go offer some help at the Forge as extra help to guard the workers trying their hardest to assist the group defending the gates.

Even taking into consideration his stitches were still fresh, Jackary settled on guard duty, keeping distance from the scourge that would get remotely close. He wasn’t being as careless as he used to be; he only needed one hand to cast a spell, after all. Yet no matter how many ice shards he flung, it didn’t drive away the slowly building realization in the endless waves of Scourge...

He was going to possibly have to enter the Maw to bring his Dragonsworn home.

Or so he thought.

“The candy coating is a little weird.  I don’t know why someone would ever choose that over a caramel apple anyways.  Especially the kinds also dipped in chocolate too, those are the best!  Mom would dip them in orange colored chocolate and then let us decorate them up like little pumpkins around Hallow’s End.  We haven’t done that in a long time...”  Since before she had died, but she wasn’t going to say that.  It was assumed.

She wrinkles her nose in thought, glancing around the kitchen.  “I don’t know about the cookie cutters.  I’ve never seen any and that doesn’t seem like anything Dice would have bought himself...”  He indeed, did not own any cookie cutters.  Kara’s feminine influence had yet to seep into the rest of the house and Dice wasn’t much of a cookie maker himself.

“I’ve not been to the Storm Peaks, the name of the land doesn’t make it sound very appealing, does it?  I don’t do so well in the snow either, get cold real easy.”  Which, funny enough, was the complete opposite of her brother.  “Sometimes one of the neighborhood mages would make a little localized snowstorm on one of the nearby hills so people could go sledding and build snowman.  Lina loved sledding, so I always went with her when Dice was gone...she’d wear a light jacket and scarf and then I’d be all bundled up like an elven burrito, even with enchanted clothing to keep me warm, and was still freezing cold.”  She hops up onto the tall, crossing her legs at the ankles.  “I got the cold, Dice got the warm.”  She smiles, looking into the bowl at the dough to see if she could see it rise.