#slaps down

Last time he tried this. He got in the wrong train. This time he most definitely didn’t want to see that happen again. These needed to be brought back to Kanto as soon as possible. And not way too late because, woops sorry I got in the wrong train cause I’m shit with directions and stepped into the wrong train instead of the right one.

So, with Shade the shuppet hovering at his left side, faithful as ever, the albino stepped forward and let his frown ease into a faint smile as he put up his hand. “Gutentag. I vas vondering if you could help me? I am looking for zhe train zhat goes to Kanto. Might you know vhich one it is und how late it leaves?”

It was almost pathetic how one could come to its end, wasn't it? He had thousand and one ways of murdering someone. Of ending a life. That was how his life had been. That was what he had been good at and so he had continued. It would only be a matter of time before it all came around to stab him in the back. He had been prepared for it for so long, that he had not feared it. Not really. But things had gone differently.

Death had gone differently.

He had started meeting people through that stupid bloody mark. Became more known with them. Enjoyed their company. Flirted and teased, laughed with them and got angry with them. They had stood at his side despite his somewhat vague history. Stood at his side despite his questionable skills in battle.

They had been there.

He took in a sharp breath before his face wrinkled up a bit in pain. Who would have guessed that this was the way he would have died. With a sword pierced through his chest. He had tried to move quick enough, had tried to block the blade. But he had failed. It was stupid really. How Vipaka had always whispered in his ear that caring would not be allowed. That it was a liability.

Seemed she had been right, hadn't it?

Red hues lifted, gazing up at the Tevinter momentarily before his lips curved up a bit. He had fought a darkspawn magister. Had lived to tell the tale. It was funny how this was the way his life would end. In the arms of one he would name a friend.

A friend.

"Sorry... Didn't move quick enough. Even with your haste." he murmured through bloodied lips, though that infamous smirk of his still managed to creep on his face. "Hey... Atleast... The breach is closed already... Would've sucked... if this.. this happened.. before.." he trailed off, fighting for breath before coughing, blood spilling.

Fuck this wasn't good at all.

"Thanks... For standing at my side, Dorian... Nobody... Forced you to but... You still did... Sly dog." he spoke with a light sneer before giving a sharp gasp, scrunching his eyes tightly shut. Pain.

6. Your muse finds mine at the bottom of a cliff, broken and damaged nearly beyond repair and recognition.

At the end of the day, he remained a human. Partly human. Mortal, plainly put. He would not be able to take every hit thrown at him. Sometimes he would falter, sometimes he would fall. But he had to admit... He hadn’t expected to take such a tumble as he had today. Hadn’t imagined something like this to have happened.

Not all looked fondly upon the ‘inquisitor’. And the red Templars were one of those. He had been alone, a foolish move on his part. He should have taken someone of his crew with him. But he had not. He thought that if he kept it quiet enough, he could get away with it. Get some information in the long run. What a fool he had been.

And now here he lay, in pain, a bloody mess. He was uncertain whether the Templars knew even who they had beaten. Perhaps they were young to the cause, or perhaps they did understand...

There was a small moan that came from him as he tried to move, only ending up with a strangled noise. It hurt like hell.  He turned his head, spat out some blood before peering ahead. How was he going to get out of this mess... He never wouldn’t though...

Not like this...

There was a sound that reached his ears, footsteps. He felt his heart drumming beneath his chest. He wanted to die with some dignity. Standing up straight. Not like this. Damned bastard. Whoever was coming, he’d spit in their fucking face before they could deliver the final blow...

And then a familiar face appeared in his view, a face he had seen many times before in Kirkwall.

19:fingertips kiss

There was a certain curiousity when Azazel had first laid eyes upon the other, a certain want that had been whispering inside of him. He did not know why the elf seemed so ageless, but so it was... It was no surprise to find the white-haired sauntering over with one of his usual charming smiles. It was no surprise to see him reaching out to take the elf’s hand before finally pressing a feather light kiss upon the tip of his fingers.

“Andaran atish’an.”