#megzilla87

so like what if my half elf cleric penny and my friend @megzilla87‘s drow rogue were in a modern AU except they're both vampires

just like

This is from yesterday-  Completed the base color of my first fanart-sweet Edwin for Meg Simmons @Megzilla87 I'll try to do shades if I'm fully improved

For @megzilla87

Completed my second fan art/Model portrait of @megzilla87 's Zash the Half-Elf Rogue <3 What do you think? #Critters

@geekandsundry @criticalrolesource

Art gift for @megzilla87

Six months have passed since the death of the Dread Emperor, and the return of the Lost Children to Emon. Six months have passed, and a keep has been constructed by order of Sovereign Uriel Tal’dorei, Third of his name, to honor the heroics of a group that calls themselves Vox Machina.

Six months have passed, and many matters have been attended to, far removed from this distant land. Six months have passed, and the world marches forward, to the hollow tune of winter. 

But in the light of the noonday sun, in a field far removed from the hustle and bustle of that great city, three friends feel as though the world hasn't moved an inch since last they were together.

Vex’ahlia smiles and leans back on the tender spring ground as Keyleth begins to weave the base of another flower crown. In the brilliance of the sun, the tender glow of her magic casts only the faintest, emerald light. Pike picks from the ground an array of brilliant flowers, to finish the frame of her own crown, smiling brightly as she sees the druid’s craft take shape. It has been so long, and yet the gnome is still amazed at the life Keyleth can coax from thin air.

The vine wraps around Keyleth’s wrist and begins to bloom with flowers, whose color was as rich as all the finest jewels in Tal’dorei. She closes her eyes to attend to the newly formed bulbs. Vex’ahlia, meanwhile, sits in respite, a word that had been forgotten with the time that’s past. 

They had talked and laughed on the way here, about many things. The first questions were tentative:

“So, how has your brother been?”

“Where'd you go?”

“What happened after you left?”

The rest of the conversation grew to be quite the opposite:

“No, Really! I just…” Pike pauses. “Decided to join the crew!”

“-but, darling, listen-” Vex’ahlia locks eyes with Keyleth, who is taken aback by her friend’s almost ravenous account. “You should have seen it, darling. Hand on heart, his sword just burst into flames -”

The conversation became sullen, for a time:

“I hope Grog hasn't gotten into trouble since we've been gone…”

“Ugh, don't remind me! Staffing this damned keep is going to cost a fortune-”

“I just… The Aramente has taken so much out of me. I don't know how much I have left to give back.”

Then lightened as they looked out on the field in which they now reside (somewhat).

“You know...” Keyleth murmured as they forayed into the field, trying to find the right spot to sit and construct their crowns. She was never good with words, at least in accordance to her own standards. She was a princess, not some bumbling, half-witted, flustering -

“Yes, darling?” Vex’ahlia tenderly interrupts the flood of insults, and Keyleth clears her throat.

“I’m really, really glad to see you all again.” She pauses, carefully considering her words. She still stutters, “A-All of you. Percy, Grog, Tiberius, Scanla - well.”

The other two laugh heartily as the druid grasps her forearm, smiling in embarassment, a light shade of red permeating her cheeks. Pike smiles, and grasps Keyleth’s thin fingers, warmly. Vex’ahlia smiles, but less so; self-doubt is hard to hide from the keen eye of a hunter.

“And it’s good to see you too, Keyleth.” Pike chimes, assuring that the princess’ sentiment is not as childish as she may think it is.

They had talked for so long, in the time it took them to find this tree, after stumbling upon this grand field. But now, in the shade, assembling their crowns, silence prevailed among the three friends.

And Vex’ahlia didn’t mind this - she welcomed it, in fact. As the breeze gently stirred the grass, the poetry of nature itself spoke volumes for them all. It spoke of renewal and life, of beauty and balance, of a bond that grows as deep as the roots of the trees, as beautiful as the blossoms, as infinite as the sky above them.

I.. um… wow.

I may have just died. I’m a HUGE fan of your work, like some of your stuff with the twins, or Allura, I just… wow. So to hear that you like my writing is just… just gimme a minute…

In other news I just checked out the new G&S Gallery and omg so amazing!! Many thoughts for many fics :D I love this fandom <3