#magladio

Send me a ▣ and my character will tell you the last thing they'd say before having to kill yours

A yank, then a twist, then Isaya's neck is broken. Quick, clean. No blood. Probably hurt for that split second it was happening but she's in pain no longer and he can be sure of that.

"Oh Issy," Feyorn soothes, running fingers through her hair as he lets it out of its braid.

    Isaya laughs at that before nodding. “Sure. I’m no expert chef or nothing, but I know some really good recipes and I can certainly follow cooking instructions, if nothing else. I mean, even though I don’t read so good. I can memorize. Which I’ve done, like this recipe for a pumpkin-based soup that I know by heart,” she declared proudly.

"Mm… I’m not sure blood’s important at all. Anyone can have a baby. Not everyone can care for another person. But that’s just… just what I think. Could be wrong."

"Be careful with that offer, I might just hold you to it." Erii's joking, though she can't help but perk up when Isaya starts talking about food. It would be more than rude to press the subject, yet Erii's loves it when other people cook for her. She might have been pickier when she was younger, but now she'll devour anything as long as she doesn't have to prepare it.

The Bosmer slows her brisk walk to a slow amble, then slows even further, almost to a stop, as she passes by the street performer.

"If you decide to, I could refer you to the bloke that did mine— if you don’t mind a trip to Windhelm’s Grey Quarter."

My son,

You were sixteen when you died. That was too young. That's far too young. You died before you could live and there was no body to bury, I never got to say goodbye. My last words to you were "come back safe" and that's not good enough.

It's not enough.

I never got to tell you how much I love you before the ocean swallowed you up and never gave you back.

You were such a brave child. Skinned your knees dozens of times because of it but indetterble. Got that from your mother.

I remember the midwife placing you in my arms and your mother, Bo, she looked at you like those past months of pregnancy were worth it and in that moment, the world was okay and for sixteen years it was okay.

And then it wasn't, and I swore I'd protect you, keep you safe, and I couldn't.

Sweet Aedra, I failed you. What is the measure of a man who cannot save his boy?

Forgive me, Drystan. Please. I'm so sorry. I love you.