CRY WOLF !

its what they DESERVE

    𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 around rose cheeks in cascading braids , flowers of all shapes and sizes peaking out from where they’ve been delicately woven into the curls of his hair . he’s returning the favor , albeit with less practised ease ; he never did do much with his own hair and so never quite learnt the proper way of twisting and twirling . always the stubborn perfectionist , he would be concerned for the end-result was it not for the fact that even if he was to make a rat’s nest of it all , she’d still look heaven - sent with the awe-inspiring silk draping down her shoulders . softly he makes the last turn , switch , loop , a gentle flick of his wrist as he adds the final clasp at the end of the braid . pride flashes across his face , sharp teeth revealed in the stretch of a smile as his back stretches taller with self - satisfaction , ‘’  it doesn’t look half bad , ‘’ he begins , a touch of humble hesitation colouring the baritone of his voice as he squits where the ( slightly crooked ) braid merges with the rest , ‘’  i think im getting the hang of this — a little . ‘’

                                                               ind . sel . penned by tinez ! 

this is the face he makes when he’s RIGHT nd he KNOWS it

he’s................................baby

         ‘  witcher  ‘  smooth baritone comes suddenly , shattering the comfortable silence . in large strides he slides up to her table , dropping himself into the opposite chair - he hasn’t been invited but had she been truly adverse to his company he’d be painfully aware of it by now ( painfully as in a dagger shoved somewhere light doesn’t shine ) . tall , elegant frame bends forward over the table as he leans onto his elbows , rose-coloured fingers knotting together so that he may lean his chin atop their web as a conspiratorial tone laces his voice . ‘ so i did some sleuthing last night , i think there’s promise for work in this town ‘ upon closer inspection its clear the tiefling hasn’t slept - hair sticking at odd angels , the touch of purple beneath his ridiculous glasses . he had more important things to do - insights to gather , ‘ you have a smorgasbord to choose from , my large frowning friend , ‘ with that he pulls out a small leathered notebook , one clawed finger flipping it open to reveal the flurry of notes he’d jotted down . ‘ we have everything from stilted lovers looking to execute revenge for their wounded prides and hearts , missing cattle - a little dull but who am i to judge , and lastly a very angry blacksmith certain his precious peculiarities are being stolen by a gnome of some sorts . ‘ he reads his accumulated gossip aloud , ‘ each have coin to be offered for your goods and services , ‘ the book is closed with a snap as he turns an unguarded smile towards the other , ‘ unless , of course , you have already found something to pique your ferocious interest - in which case ; do tell , my ears are positively burning . ‘

           ‘ well , then ! ‘ relief is a near tangible taste in the tiefling’s mouth and his white-knuckled grip on the embellished fruit knife in his hand eases up ever so slightly . bastion’s encounters with actual physical violence can be counted on one hand and his inexperience with armed conflict is quite evident with the fact that he has chosen to arm himself with something that is barely passable as a weapon . a wobbly smile makes it onto his features as he begins to regain a little color , ‘ that immediately ups our chances of getting out of here alive . ‘ 

‘    a lot of things can be enough to kill a man , ‘ bastion speaks almost directly into the rim of his cup , his voice echoing back to him from where it bounces off of the last inch of drink left at the bottom . he’s not certain how this conversation came to be , but he can’t remember when he last spoke to anyone who wasn’t an inn-keeper eyeing him suspiciously as he writes up yet another night on a tab . in other words he’s drunk and lonely so who is he to be picky . ‘ i’m not , i don’t think . enough to kill a man , that is . or i – suppose i’m not . although , i’m afraid that i … might have been better off if i was , with the way things are turning out . ‘

      trembling fingers dig into golden curls as he tries to push his hair out of his face , unrelenting shakes making it near impossible to gather it neatly enough to be tied in place without half of it falling back out . he’s so close he can feel it – - basil is back , that’s something he didn’t see coming , but he’s checked several times since he collapsed in the guest bedroom and sure as the nine hells he’s there and he’s alive . ‘ this isn’t darkness , joy , this is illumination . it’s the light at the end of the tunnel , ‘ redemption , justice , whatever you want to call it this is it , it has finally come . a chance to undo the mistakes of his past , to make up for the wrong-turns and the miscalculations . to be free of this guilt , to which he had been so close to admitting defeat . things can be different now . ‘ i can fix everything , joy . ‘ is that happiness in his voice ? it trembles like his fingers , like his chest , it’s something and he cannot pinpoint what . relief , perhaps ? the thrill of a mystery , is that something he’s still capable of enjoying ? ‘ i just need this chance to do it differently . i can change things , i just need to get it right . ‘ .