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@rescuedeveryone said : 😬 (veth to essek?)
( sms ➝ war criminal💗 / ALMOST KILLED YEZA ) : hey r u ok? ( sms ➝ war criminal💗 / ALMOST KILLED YEZA ) : haven’t heard from you ( sms ➝ war criminal💗 / ALMOST KILLED YEZA ) : are you dead ??????????? ( sms ➝ war criminal💗 / ALMOST KILLED YEZA ) : we’ll avenge you ig
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* @rescuedeveryone — CALEB & ESSEK
EXHAUSTION — SEEMS TO BE A CONSTANT COMPANION THESE DAYS. sets in at the slightest provocation, sleep eluding even when time allows. tonight, however, time has not been on his side. plans ( best laid though they are ) do not much account for a wizard’s sleep. and . . . lately, it is harder than it has been in some time to assert the need for anything of his own. the nein feel a world away, even so close, and that is frightening and . . . necessary all at once.
but essek — essek feels closer than ever before. nearby in a scrap, sharing intimate moments usually reserved for the family he’s chosen, in the home he builds for them, the elven wizard is a comfort — one caleb forces himself to forget, until now. until . . . perhaps there is no longer a need.
but distant or close, they need him ( again ) — they need the dome. so he drops ( falls ) to his knees in the halls, dark and grim and cold, and begins the ritual. or . . . he tries. he is bleeding most everywhere after the fight, and everything leading up to it, and so, so tired, so he pays no mind to a little extra . . . until he notices it dripping onto his hand. he wipes at his nose, feels his vision swim . . . and still no dome. that is when he catches essek’s eye, over the dulled, but still constant, hubbub of the mighty nein around them both.
starter for @rescuedeveryone
“Scatter in me the seeds of a thousand saplings. Let grow a grassy heaven.” Freya’s fingers trace the line of poetry in the notebook in her hand, the scrap of paper pasted in among pressed flowers and other things from her travels. It’s only the sound of someone else in the forest around her that has her shutting the journal rather quickly.
starter for @rescuedeveryone
The cold breeze bites at her skin, numbing her nose & ears as she pushes on through the storm. She’s long lost any feeling in her fingers, despite the coat pockets currently housing them. What she wouldn’t give for Bren’s knack at starting flame from nothing.
Her Undercommon is rustier than she cares to admit, but it’s gotten her through the door & alone with her mark. Left hand reaching for the iron bar in her pouch, her right extends in a practiced motion. The drow visage shimmers & fades as her focus shifts to paralyzing the target in front of her. “ Shadowhand Thelyss. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. ”
(newt) "Answer the fucking question, Arrie. Sanic? You Sanic?"
{ @rescuedeveryone }{ GODDAMMIT NEWT OMFG XD }
“Newt, it’s 10 PM. ON A SUNDAY. WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THIS?”
“HOW THE FUCK COULD I EVEN BE SANIC?”
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I saw that Rixian is non-binary/generally presents masc. Would it be better to use they/them, he/them, or he/him when describing Rixian in replies?
any combination of those three is fine, honestly! he tends to default to he / him because of his upbringing, but he or they is fine.
@rescuedeveryone/peter ‘ the trees are always kindest when spring comes ’
from snow she rises. not as elegant as she wished it to be however. she coughs up the bits and pieces of snow that already is melting on her tongue. there’s something in the back of her being that wishes to make a biting comment, but she holds back because she is just ... to exhausted.
HANDS would dust off the snow from her dress and her coat. she looks at the tree above her, the one that used to carry the snow that landed on her. “ i’m not surprised for that season is the one the archeart resides over. ” beautiful, majestic; the elven gods is more merciful than the patron who favours this season. “ this cold of the raven queen only serves to remind me how much i miss spring. ”
@rescuedeveryone . // ( SC . )
CALEB IS CALM . NOT BECAUSE HE TRULY feels any sense of serenity , but because some logical part of his mind says that he must be . somewhere inside , he is absolutely PANICKING , but that panic is well - suppressed for the sake of what he intends ( or , what he HOPES ) to accomplish .
his hands tremble , though , as he produces a simple roll of bandages .
“ well , i am no healer , but i have patched up a few boo - boos in my day . just -- just hold still , ja ? ”
