#stlwrt

the light in the other room flickers. buzzes. the only thing to break the silence over breathing that is just starting to slow. sweat cools over the both of them, sticking bare skin together. her own hair sticks to her forehead, sticks to the back of her neck, to her throat, curls and catches in joints.

they should get up. should take the luxury of a rare sanisteam.

it's hard not seeing this time as something rare. something stolen away between heartbeats. she's still getting used to the fact that plunging into bed with another doesn't have to be hurried and hungry and half-secret.

no, just her own existence now was nigh on taboo.

Alex mumbles against Shamara's hand, and the mirialan's breath caught in her throat.

'I love you'.

Shamara looks away. focuses her gaze on the opposing wall. following cracks in the flimsy substructure. this was a mistake. getting involved with someone. it was a mistake. the words have been said, and that made this all the more real.

and the last woman Shamara had loved was—

died with the rest of the Jedi.

Alex was not a Jedi. but that didn't make the risk any less. the Empire would not take mercy on her just because she wasn't Force-sensitive, should they be caught. if things went for the worse, Alex was a liability. not a strength.

"Then don't." Sharrah is aware it's somewhat of a flippant answer. It's also the only answer she can give. The other woman was a city elf. Near a flat-ear as one could get without being shem. But more than that — it was hard to look at Kallian and not see an adolescent. No vallaslin on a face that should just be ready for it.

A child.

She unstrings her longbow, setting it down for the night next to pack and bedroll. "Duncan's dead. No one would stop you from leaving when the Blight was over." Or before then. No one is stopping Kallian from leaving now. No one would stop any of them, if they decide they're sick of the travels. The only one Sharrah thinks would truly fight to the bitter end if any of them made that choice would be Alistair ( and, perhaps, Leliana, given her Maker-sent visions ) — more a Warden than anyone else in this camp.

( she thinks, though, he's starting to rub off on her, and that, too, she found terrifying )

"You'd be surprised how common a sentiment that is." Right up until 'going down' is the only option. And then people panic. They might run, might sob, might beg. But rarely do they all truly commit and fight to the bitter end.

Shamara has seen enough of those herself. Men in armor reduced to pleading, grasping for whatever they thought would bring them mercy. Offering credits, information... she recalls one trying to offer his firstborn upon the myth that Jedi stole children from their cribs. That one, she'd broken an additional rib for.

"It isn't until you're faced with it that you find out the truth. What you will do."

@stlwrt — all right, since you're such an expert, why don't you show me? / from steph

Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he just pinches the bridge of his nose before huffing out a word. "That's not what I mean. You're over reaching when you throw. You're going to cause long term issues with your shoulder if you keep doing it. The moment you feel a pull in your arm, you let go. Let your fingertips guide the batarang. Don't force it."

for aiden to be funny. you get my mouse chicken scrawl and that's it lmao. he's kinda a gentle giant most of the time but given his main gf i'm sure you're aware he's got some of that ruthless in him <3

damn hes going for them all huh—

4 bingos for sharrah, 3 for aera, and somehow managing 3 for mair as well.

          it took bronwyn half an hour to reach scarlett's office , her legs numb beneath her , vision blurring and then sharpening in dizzying turns                          her hair damp and plastered to her face , her stockings ripped to ruins .     not to mention , there was blood trickling down her calves , crimson pearls originating from her bruised knees . she had not looked at her reflection during her painful walk back , meaning she had little to no clue of the state alexandra had received her in . if she had , she would have commented she looked like a woman half-possessed , which was no different from a mad girl that ought to be locked away for everyone's sake .

For my Cass on @stlwrt :3 she needs time with physical affection and word problems, but she can be convinced