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@prphyrik
Crimson eyes watch the other as they share a table in the Winking Skeever, they were far from strangers but not quite acquaintances, not yet at least. He leans back, arms crossed, to make himself more comfortable before he addresses him, ❝ You’re starting to become a familiar face around here, Vincete. I hope you don’t start to cause trouble. ❞
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@prphyrik
Illifor’s blessing helped Ferrus in many ways—but he’d be damned if being a god kept him from having a lover. He’s careful, so careful to not reveal it to Vicente at the beginning. Under the guise of a human he finds love—yet he can’t help but to wonder if Vicente would still love him if he knew half of Ferrus’ persona was a lie.
Now seems like a good time. Vicente is lounging on a couch and sharpening his blade. Everything is...relaxed. Perfect. It’s perfect. “Vicente—” He breathes out sharply. “There’s something I need to tell you.” A pause. “Something I need to show you.” Ferrus steps forward, obsidian gaze settling onto his lover. “I haven’t been... I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
laresa had seen vampires before, the sometimes unwilling chosen of molag bal --- there is merit in killing them if you seek reputation. however, the archer doesn’t and certainly not in and abandoned shrine of some daedric prince. the look on the wall says ‘sithis’ but there’s no dark brotherhood here. the footsteps are barely noticeable, but oh, the bosmer race had the hearing of a damned bat. ❛ well met, wanderer. ❜ when she turns, she can’t see the figure in the shadows but she knows where exactly they are. ❛ i’m in no mood to fight. ❜ // @prphyrik: sc.
@prphyrik | starter call
She had become accustomed to the dark at a young age, and because of that, her senses are heightened, her hearing acute, her eyes entuned to the shadows. The thief pauses, fingers brushing across the Nightingale blade on her hip, but she doesn’t grip it. “Decent folk ought not to skulk in shadow,” she says aloud, her tone amused. Face turns, eyebrows lift, and a smile curves upon her face.
THE MANOR HAD INVITED HIM . the ornate golden detailing on the door - frame , the countless jewelry boxes peeking through the window , barely illuminated in the moon’s glow . valirenn had no trouble with the locks . even in cyrodil , the birthplace of the modern lock , they proved no difficulty to him .
he was careful as he flitted through the house , collecting trinkets here or there , his satchel near overflowing as he reached the bedroom . he used the man’s own snores as cover , making his way to the wardrobe . it was only then he heard the distinct sound of something coming up the stairs , & all too quickly , the door flew open . valirenn stared at the stranger for only a moment before noticing the corpse - like visage , the dark clothes , the claymore at his hand .
a fellow outlaw . a criminal . now to decide if he was friendly or not .
awkwardly , yet with great care , valirenn motions in a pitiful half - wave , a suggestion of a smile on his lips . he points to vicente’s sword , then to the man , drags his finger across his neck , & shrugs , his way of asking if he was to murder the sleeping man .
@prphyrik / clicked
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@prphyrik
“You are an assassin, yes?” The Lord has heard of the Brotherhood—has heard of their excellent service—and the Lord is in need. “I have a job for you—if you are willing to take it, that is.” The cuts on Andras’ face are fresh. The scuffle he got into earlier he has still not fully recovered from. “I will pay your order handsomely in return—surely we could work something out, hm?”
@prphyrik responding from this
That voice—Val’in knows that voice. Once held that voice near and dear to their heart. Heart hammers in their chest and their hands do shake. It has been at least a decade since they have fought in battle. Yes, they prefer a peaceful existence, but this situation. . .there is no promise that things will end peacefully. “Vicente? Is that you?” They swallow, finding their throat is parched. It feels as if they have not drank water in days. It is the fear that does this to them.
Against their better judgment they reach out and place their hands against their friend’s hollow cheeks. “I thought you were dead.” Tears well up in their eyes and their sight is blurry now. “You just. . .disappeared one day. I looked for you, but it was as if you never existed. No one could find you and I—” It’s terrible, to see Vicente in such a state. The fangs explain a lot though. That must have been why Vicente never saw fit to return to them “I missed you.” They press their forehead against his. The tears flow freely down their cheeks.
“If you are going to kill me, Vicente, make it quick. You owe me that much.” They feel as if it is best to resign their self. They have no desire to hurt Vicente. Not even seeing him like this now. . .even though it’s almost too much. They press their lips against the corner of his pallid mouth. “I missed you so much.” They whisper, afraid that Vicente would not hear him in the state he is currently in. “I’m sorry things ended up this way. Sorry I was too stupid to find you sooner.”
‘ HOW ENDEARINGLY QUAINT , ‘ the mortal quips , some lingering aspect of the now - god mannimarco . an amulet of molag baal so brazenly dangles from his neck , red robes of his journeys in wayrest replaced with a simpler black . more elegant , more streamlined . more fitting for the man who would destroy the mage’s guild . ‘ that smile - are you going for charming or bloodthirsty ? either way my dear , i am afraid it looks quite unbecoming . ‘
@prphyrik clicked!
