[Amoren] Everything I'm Not II
Posted: Sat Apr 16, 2022 1:05 am
TIMESTAMP: 18th Solace, Glade 4622
NOTES: Open me!
NOTES: Open me!
► Show Spoiler
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Though her eyes have narrowed and she looks thoroughly perplexed, somewhat annoyed at him, even– her expression softens the longer he speaks; he really did sound happy when he spoke about the Rathor. Regaining her composure, “...but what of your safety? In his hands, a single wrong move…an overstep of pressure, a cut in the wrong place, a bite too deep…your life would snuff out. I…what would happen then? You’d be gone. I know how much you want to keep living,” she asks these questions in a tone still woven with confusion and concern, but much calmer than her previous outbursts. “That’s not even taking into the account the ripple effects of your death. What about your house? What about me? We’ve been a team for over half my life at this point, as painful to the ego as it is to admit, but what would I have without you?” These questions are far more pointed than the first set and she doesn’t even care that he’s messing about with his magic, she doesn’t wait to ask, simply speaks over his casting.
That barrage of questions pulls a sigh from the Veir before anything else. He lifted his gaze again from the blood in his hands to meet with her clear, jade eyes. She made solid points, and these questions were things he’d had to force himself to think about over the time that he and Arkash were together, and then again once the two had been separated. She was right, he desperately wanted to live. That had always been core to him; no matter how miserable he was, he was too stubborn to ever let go of life. Such a thing only served to brighten the spotlight on the fact that his behaviors as of late had been extremely aberrant. Every time he lay with his lover, he had put his life at risk. No, he asked to put his life at risk. That thrill was part of what he craved about their experiences together.
“You’re right…in every way. I am acting like an idiot, but I don’t know…I just…it all feels so perfect, though. Everything I’ve done with him just feels right. It feels so warm and inviting, because when he hurts me, he showers me in love and affection…then takes great care in making sure I stay alive and that all of my wounds are fixed, that I feel good…that I feel happy. Despite what we do, he is so very loving…before he left, he…” Degare cuts off here for a moment, pausing to swallow, as if this is difficult to verbalize. “...he even told me that he loved me. We’d only known one another for about a month at that point, I was so taken aback…I felt bad that I couldn’t return the sentiment, but…it felt so good to hear somebody say that to me again. I could see in his eyes, hear in his voice that he meant it, too.” The Ferrier does smile at these words, his features lit from within and warm as he remembered the moment that Arkash had said this. It very clearly meant a lot to him.
After he spoke, he looked away again and back to the blood– holding her gaze as he explained these concepts was…so very difficult. The prism in his palm lost its solidity and returned to its liquid state, forming a small puddle in his palm, with another cast of infusion. He actively manipulated it with Bloodshaper to keep it from dripping off the sides of his hand. In an attempt to soothe his nerves, he causes ripples to flow through the little puddle and makes a variety of different undulating wave patterns as a calming distraction when compared to the conversation he was having with Lucia. As his reserves of Blight again began to run low, he drew more of it from the cut on his arm he’d opened a little bit earlier.
She didn’t know what kind of answer that Degare would give to any of her questions, but even so, his answers still managed to shock her. No wonder his little lover had forced his way back into the Veir’s life after all this time…he’d fallen in love. Despite how messy the situation was, objecting to it was out of the question now. Lucia knew the type of person Degare was– she could tell from the way he spoke that he felt the same as Arkash, just that he wasn’t ready to accept it yet. His inability to even look at her made it even more obvious. He wasn’t sitting there casting for any sort of practice, he was doing it in an attempt to self soothe. What he needed was time and support, not chastisement. The Valran sighs, expression bearing some semblance of relief. “As much as he…terrifies me…he didn’t ask to be a Dranoch,” she starts, mind still abuzz with all of this confusing information. “...and he’s not aligned with the Court…I…won’t try to sabotage your happiness. Just…don’t let him kill you, okay? I need you.” It was hard for her to find the exact way she wanted to phrase her feelings, but her words were soft, silky and warm with their affection towards the older elf.
Her shift in mood did ease some of the tension that pulled at Degare from within– he was happy that she would even try to be supportive. He was well aware of how she’d been affected by the Dranoch within Sil-Elain in her youth and it’d always been a concern of his from the start. Granting her a pleased smile, “I’m glad you’re even willing to try to look past that and I completely understand your reluctance…the hesitance, the fear. I don’t plan to die on you, Lucia. Arkash himself wants me alive…as much of a predator as he is, he is still a person capable of making decisions, feeling emotions and maintaining deep connections just like you and I. I think it would hurt him quite a bit if he ever harmed me in a way that led to my death…which is why he tries so hard to keep me breathing despite, ah…what we enjoy.” When he first started to speak, his voice was steeped in sincerity and fondness for the woman to whom he spoke. By the end of his sentiments, his tone had lightened quite a bit. He did feel bad that he had been so closed off to her over the past month.
While he spoke to her, the blood in his hand shifted and swirled around as the seconds passed. The movements of it were actually rather captivating to look at, hence why doing this served as a great sort of focus for him to look at. It helped him keep his emotions stable enough to even say the things he was saying without breaking down or beginning to unravel at the seams.
For her, it was still so hard to wrap her head around. Everything she’d come to know about how the Veir navigated relationships was abruptly flipped on its head in one of the strangest ways possible. Degare was always the domineering sort, one with an innate need to be in control of every little thing. She supposed that, in some ways, it did make sense that after living like that for so long that one would eventually grow weary of it. If that were the case, finding an outlet through which you could freely and comfortably give up control and just…trust somebody else with everything you had would definitely be intoxicating, addicting even. As much as she was happy that he was happy, she still did harbor concerns. The Ferrier was deeply loyal to those he loved, often going out of his way to be at their side or do things for them. She was afraid that his growing affections for Arkash would result in him putting himself in situations that contained even more significant risk than the ones that he’d already subjected himself to.
With a gentle, reassuring expression, “I’ll always be here for you…no matter who you choose to love. I know he’s not a mindless monster…I’ve met him, he doesn’t act like the others, it's just…so hard to wrap my head around, but I’ll try. For you. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least that I can do,” her smile broadens to something much more playful, “...but I may poke fun at you for submitting to him so completely. It’s…really funny to me. You, the power hungry controlling man that I know you are…laying beneath him as you do, begging to be hurt, I–” her tone is impish and bright, cutting off at the end in a fit of laughter at the image she’s pulled up in her head. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but…I’m not– a powerful noble under the yoke of a little peasant, it’s like a bad smut novel,” she continues to erupt in fits of giggles.
The Veir looks fairly amused but at the same time thoroughly embarrassed when she begins to laugh. Again, she was right– it really was like a bizarre power fantasy somebody on the street would have. However, a look of mischief is drawn on his features as he semi-hardens the blood in his hand with infusion into a gelatinous sort of gooey texture using Infusion. After doing this, he rolls it into a blob in his palm and throws it at her. The small projectile makes an impact with her collar bone, getting into the long, silver hair that rested over it. It stuck to her skin and hair with an odd texture just a little bit more dense than honey.
This action abruptly stopped her laughter as she blinked and looked down at exactly what he had thrown at her, and with a raise of her brow, “Suppose I deserved that, then, huh?” Her voice is still bubbly and bright. Degare responds, “A bit rude to mock me like that…so yes,” words delivered with a smile and lighter tone of his own.
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Though her eyes have narrowed and she looks thoroughly perplexed, somewhat annoyed at him, even– her expression softens the longer he speaks; he really did sound happy when he spoke about the Rathor. Regaining her composure, “...but what of your safety? In his hands, a single wrong move…an overstep of pressure, a cut in the wrong place, a bite too deep…your life would snuff out. I…what would happen then? You’d be gone. I know how much you want to keep living,” she asks these questions in a tone still woven with confusion and concern, but much calmer than her previous outbursts. “That’s not even taking into the account the ripple effects of your death. What about your house? What about me? We’ve been a team for over half my life at this point, as painful to the ego as it is to admit, but what would I have without you?” These questions are far more pointed than the first set and she doesn’t even care that he’s messing about with his magic, she doesn’t wait to ask, simply speaks over his casting.
That barrage of questions pulls a sigh from the Veir before anything else. He lifted his gaze again from the blood in his hands to meet with her clear, jade eyes. She made solid points, and these questions were things he’d had to force himself to think about over the time that he and Arkash were together, and then again once the two had been separated. She was right, he desperately wanted to live. That had always been core to him; no matter how miserable he was, he was too stubborn to ever let go of life. Such a thing only served to brighten the spotlight on the fact that his behaviors as of late had been extremely aberrant. Every time he lay with his lover, he had put his life at risk. No, he asked to put his life at risk. That thrill was part of what he craved about their experiences together.
“You’re right…in every way. I am acting like an idiot, but I don’t know…I just…it all feels so perfect, though. Everything I’ve done with him just feels right. It feels so warm and inviting, because when he hurts me, he showers me in love and affection…then takes great care in making sure I stay alive and that all of my wounds are fixed, that I feel good…that I feel happy. Despite what we do, he is so very loving…before he left, he…” Degare cuts off here for a moment, pausing to swallow, as if this is difficult to verbalize. “...he even told me that he loved me. We’d only known one another for about a month at that point, I was so taken aback…I felt bad that I couldn’t return the sentiment, but…it felt so good to hear somebody say that to me again. I could see in his eyes, hear in his voice that he meant it, too.” The Ferrier does smile at these words, his features lit from within and warm as he remembered the moment that Arkash had said this. It very clearly meant a lot to him.
After he spoke, he looked away again and back to the blood– holding her gaze as he explained these concepts was…so very difficult. The prism in his palm lost its solidity and returned to its liquid state, forming a small puddle in his palm, with another cast of infusion. He actively manipulated it with Bloodshaper to keep it from dripping off the sides of his hand. In an attempt to soothe his nerves, he causes ripples to flow through the little puddle and makes a variety of different undulating wave patterns as a calming distraction when compared to the conversation he was having with Lucia. As his reserves of Blight again began to run low, he drew more of it from the cut on his arm he’d opened a little bit earlier.
She didn’t know what kind of answer that Degare would give to any of her questions, but even so, his answers still managed to shock her. No wonder his little lover had forced his way back into the Veir’s life after all this time…he’d fallen in love. Despite how messy the situation was, objecting to it was out of the question now. Lucia knew the type of person Degare was– she could tell from the way he spoke that he felt the same as Arkash, just that he wasn’t ready to accept it yet. His inability to even look at her made it even more obvious. He wasn’t sitting there casting for any sort of practice, he was doing it in an attempt to self soothe. What he needed was time and support, not chastisement. The Valran sighs, expression bearing some semblance of relief. “As much as he…terrifies me…he didn’t ask to be a Dranoch,” she starts, mind still abuzz with all of this confusing information. “...and he’s not aligned with the Court…I…won’t try to sabotage your happiness. Just…don’t let him kill you, okay? I need you.” It was hard for her to find the exact way she wanted to phrase her feelings, but her words were soft, silky and warm with their affection towards the older elf.
Her shift in mood did ease some of the tension that pulled at Degare from within– he was happy that she would even try to be supportive. He was well aware of how she’d been affected by the Dranoch within Sil-Elain in her youth and it’d always been a concern of his from the start. Granting her a pleased smile, “I’m glad you’re even willing to try to look past that and I completely understand your reluctance…the hesitance, the fear. I don’t plan to die on you, Lucia. Arkash himself wants me alive…as much of a predator as he is, he is still a person capable of making decisions, feeling emotions and maintaining deep connections just like you and I. I think it would hurt him quite a bit if he ever harmed me in a way that led to my death…which is why he tries so hard to keep me breathing despite, ah…what we enjoy.” When he first started to speak, his voice was steeped in sincerity and fondness for the woman to whom he spoke. By the end of his sentiments, his tone had lightened quite a bit. He did feel bad that he had been so closed off to her over the past month.
While he spoke to her, the blood in his hand shifted and swirled around as the seconds passed. The movements of it were actually rather captivating to look at, hence why doing this served as a great sort of focus for him to look at. It helped him keep his emotions stable enough to even say the things he was saying without breaking down or beginning to unravel at the seams.
For her, it was still so hard to wrap her head around. Everything she’d come to know about how the Veir navigated relationships was abruptly flipped on its head in one of the strangest ways possible. Degare was always the domineering sort, one with an innate need to be in control of every little thing. She supposed that, in some ways, it did make sense that after living like that for so long that one would eventually grow weary of it. If that were the case, finding an outlet through which you could freely and comfortably give up control and just…trust somebody else with everything you had would definitely be intoxicating, addicting even. As much as she was happy that he was happy, she still did harbor concerns. The Ferrier was deeply loyal to those he loved, often going out of his way to be at their side or do things for them. She was afraid that his growing affections for Arkash would result in him putting himself in situations that contained even more significant risk than the ones that he’d already subjected himself to.
With a gentle, reassuring expression, “I’ll always be here for you…no matter who you choose to love. I know he’s not a mindless monster…I’ve met him, he doesn’t act like the others, it's just…so hard to wrap my head around, but I’ll try. For you. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least that I can do,” her smile broadens to something much more playful, “...but I may poke fun at you for submitting to him so completely. It’s…really funny to me. You, the power hungry controlling man that I know you are…laying beneath him as you do, begging to be hurt, I–” her tone is impish and bright, cutting off at the end in a fit of laughter at the image she’s pulled up in her head. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but…I’m not– a powerful noble under the yoke of a little peasant, it’s like a bad smut novel,” she continues to erupt in fits of giggles.
The Veir looks fairly amused but at the same time thoroughly embarrassed when she begins to laugh. Again, she was right– it really was like a bizarre power fantasy somebody on the street would have. However, a look of mischief is drawn on his features as he semi-hardens the blood in his hand with infusion into a gelatinous sort of gooey texture using Infusion. After doing this, he rolls it into a blob in his palm and throws it at her. The small projectile makes an impact with her collar bone, getting into the long, silver hair that rested over it. It stuck to her skin and hair with an odd texture just a little bit more dense than honey.
This action abruptly stopped her laughter as she blinked and looked down at exactly what he had thrown at her, and with a raise of her brow, “Suppose I deserved that, then, huh?” Her voice is still bubbly and bright. Degare responds, “A bit rude to mock me like that…so yes,” words delivered with a smile and lighter tone of his own.
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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
