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3 yrs ago
Wishing a relaxing weekend for everyone. Take some time to be kind to yourself, to unwind, and to have some rest. <3
11 likes
6 yrs ago
I ate a brownie once at a party in college. It was intense. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there wasn't any pot in the brownie. It was just an insanely good brownie.
10 likes
6 yrs ago
There was an explosion at a cheese factory in France. De-Brie everywhere.
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Bio



that elder scrolls / mass effect roleplayer

“I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.”



Most Recent Posts

Solveig Wistrom
Zenn'Valin vas Konesh

Wraith & Shadow

Trust


with @Awesomoman64


After the mission briefing…




Well that was humiliating, Solveig thought as she headed on her way back to the dorms from the communications office, having just got off a call to the ExSolar company. Another endorsement would have to be done. A photo of her in costume was required for their advertising. She sent Sunset a brief message to update her.

Making her way to her bunk, she stopped by her locker first, unlocking it to reach inside for something familiar; her pills. She shook the small container and heard the pathetic rattle of only a few left. Not good… She bit her lip, and decided to take two anyway. The dorms remained empty, but she still wanted something a bit quieter. More isolated.

After a while of searching she found herself in the engineering wing, near some generators that were humming, hissing, and ticking away. The heartbeat of the SRN headquarters. The ambient noise and warmth was pleasant, she thought, and so she took a seat on the stairwell taking out her datapad. Some messages.

There was a message from her father. He was going to be in Geneva. That pain in her chest elevated again and she brought a hand there, rubbing at it. All that it seemed to do was spread the sting. She missed him. She reminded herself of her place within the Alliance. She wasn’t an N7 anymore, but… Not invited to a memorial for my own Mother…

Just as Slim said, Riley’s message was there - she gave it a quick scan and nodded, filing it away with a sigh, making a mental note of several details to inform the group of later. Something else too, a reminder, that she’d save to spend her attention on later when she had the time to accept the headache that would come with it.

She squeezed her eyes close briefly before opening the SRN news. Immediately she recognised the name Konesh. Isn’t that…? she thought, raising a brow. How would Zenn feel about it? She wondered. Sol expected he would find it hard to swallow. She hoped he was okay.

“Come here often?” Zenn’s voice broke through the ambient sounds of the generators. The quarian stood at the bottom of the stairs leaning against the railing with his arms folded. “Kinda reminds me of being on a ship. Back on the migrant fleet, you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing the engines hum.” He was obviously trying to act nonchalant, but his awkward fidgeting dispelled any illusion he was attempting to create.

“I uh, just dropped Ranger off at the… What do you call it? Animal daycare? Anyway, I was coming back from that when I saw you slip in here. Figured I’d come in. Say hi… So um… Hi.”

It was almost like thinking of him, summoned him. Solveig looked up from her screen to see him at the foot of the stairwell. He’s quieter than me… she thought briefly, amused that he’d escaped her detection. “Shado–...Zenn,” she said, “need something?” She paused and assessed his relaxed pose, and noted his fidgeting with a curious eye and quirked brow. “I mean… Hallå.” She awkwardly lifted the hand that had been resting on her knee to wave softly at him.

“Uhh… Did you sleep well? And feeling well?” she asked, placing her hand back on her knee, then on the step beside her, then back on her knee, then back on the step. Just put it somewhere. She placed it back in her lap.

“Oh yeah. I slept great… For the most part… Guess I was pretty tired. And got a bit carried away with the drinks…I got your note.” Zenn said and patted one of his pockets close to his chest, but continued to fidget and look everywhere in the room except at Sol. There was something he wanted to ask about, but he was having trouble finding the words to do it without making everything weird. Last thing he wanted was to make things awkward between them, especially before a mission, but sitting in silence like this wasn’t helping much either. He finally decided to just start talking and hope for the best.

“So, funny thing. I went to check out at the front desk and they told me how you had been given that room. But… They um… They never saw anyone go in or out… And when I woke up it was just me… In the only bed… With this note… I guess what I’m asking is, what happened after I passed out?” After he posed the question, his wandering eyes finally settled down to look at Sol as he waited for her answer.

Sol's eyes widened as Zenn recounted his version of events, and she began to understand that he thought that–. He kept that note… It was on a napkin. Her thought was interrupted. "Well," she began quietly, and just like in the meeting earlier her fingers interlaced and she circled her thumbs again. "We talked… a lot, last night… A lot, for me." Her brows furrowed as she worked through the murk of her own memory.

"I thought that riding back to base would… Be bad so… Kysar stayed with you. I returned here." She rolled her shoulder again and winced. "Very packed ride… Uncomfortable and loud, but. That's about it. I…" she paused, and looked up at him too. "Does this help?"

“So it was me and Kysar in the room? Whew!” Zenn let out a sigh of relief as his whole body relaxed and his fidgeting ceased. “I’ve been worried all morning that we had shared it…” A brief moment passed before Zenn realized what he had just said and immediately went right back to nervous panic. “Uh Not that I wouldn’t have liked that! I just… I want to take things slow. The last thing I’d want is to risk ruining our chances by rushing things again.”

“Oh…” Sol's face felt hot as she listened to Zenn talking. She smiled slightly, looking down again. "Slow works... I actually…. Well, thought maybe… You forgot, that uhh, question. That we sort of decided to-" She stopped herself and looked up again. "Sorry. You make me… nervous." The words came out without her really thinking about them, but having said them, she felt more relief for it.

Zenn’s arms slipped from each other and hung limply at his side as he stood bewildered at what he heard. “Me? Make you nervous? I think you’re forgetting who could bench press who with one arm. And I’m not talking about your mechanical one either. I should be the only one who’s nervous when we talk.” Zenn turned his head away, hiding his face despite it already being heavily obscured, and slowly lifted his arm to grab the other. “Which…I definitely am. Do you know how many people I had to get advice from before I had the courage to talk to you? More than I’d like to admit.”

That was a surprise to her. That Zenn had to seek advice on this? She wanted to know just who and what exactly he had asked, and then recalled an odd conversation with Kysar… Her eyes widened. "I… See," she began quietly. That explained a lot…

Pushing the thought from her mind, Sol decided to just be frank - as best as she could, anyway. "Nervous because… Any kind of talking… To anyone puts a knot in the chest. Also… Well, I like you, actually." He had said it too - in a much longer, Zenn-like way of course, but he had. She gave a soft sigh and got up from the stairs, making her way down them to get to him. There he was again, she noticed, putting himself down. That had been what started him off the night before too. To talking about his team, of Rannoch…

"I wish you can see how I– and how the team sees you, Zenn. I see so much…" She gave him a playful nudge. "That I like… Enough that… Getting to know you more will be nice." It was easier to talk to him like this. Alone. In a safe place.

"Heh. Yeah. Right back at ya." Zenn sheepishly replied. She really did see a lot in him, didn't she? Things even he couldn't. The more he spent time with her, the more he really felt confident in this actually being something real. Of course, he had to remind himself not to make such conclusions until after their first date. Which reminded him.

"Speaking of… Any dietary restrictions? I'll need to know before I book any of the places here. Assuming our schedule is even flexible enough to make a reservation anywhere." He said with a light chuckle at the end.

Sol’s head tilted to the side. "Vegetarian," she answered quickly, trying to catch his eyes with her own - a softened gaze. She could still sense something in him that was almost shy. In the background, she could hear the rhythmic hissing of the generators and she'd passively picked up their timings too. All this talk of a date, even though she was trying to help Zenn, and even though it felt good to do so… There was still an anxious gnawing in her stomach, something that didn't entirely quieten down.

"Anywhere is fine, Zenn…" She added after a pause, bracing herself. "But not a party or a meeting… I can…" she reached for his hand and took it into her own. "Do this."

“Perfect. Vegetarian it… Is…” Zenn found his words get stuck in his throat as Sol tilted her head to meet his eyes. He didn’t think he could blush more, until she took his hand and reaffirmed that she wanted to do this. His entire face burned red behind his helmet. “Yeah. Same. I… I really don’t like parties. Last night was an exception…”

As he held Sol’s hand and looked into her eyes, a small part of him wondered if this moment could last forever. Forget everything else, just focus on the two of them and see where things go. But a louder more prominent part cut in and reminded him that they had a responsibility to help SRN, to help the system. There were a lot of problems that needed attention and if he blew them off for his own selfish desires… Well. He had been down that road before.

“We should…Probably finish preparing.” Zenn said, once again turning away to break eye contact, but leaving his hand in hers. “It’s a long flight to Mars. I just hope the pilot we get knows what they’re doing. I’d rather not be tossed around the ship again.” He snickered and turned his head back slightly to see Sol’s reaction to his joke.

That caused Sol to chuckle ever so slightly. “You still flew it better than Kysar or myself…” she teased, “even with a concussion… Piloting, not our strong suit… Two wheels on the ground though…” Would Zenn like motorbikes? the image piqued her curiosity, and brought upon a slight smirk before she was swiftly pulled out of that thought when she focussed on Zenn again. There was another brief moment of him disappearing back into himself. She gave his hand a slight squeeze of encouragement to draw him back to the stairs for a moment - as if to tell him to slow down - that they didn’t have to leave just yet.

As Sol sat back down, she heard the expected hiss of one of the generators as if it were like clockwork. “Zenn, wait…” she said. “I…” she paused, unsure of how to approach the subject, or even what to do when she got to it. Just like piloting, sensitive conversations weren’t comfortable for her. She took in a steady breath and decided once again, that being upfront was the best way. “The news today… I saw the name Konesh – I… Worried about you when I saw it. Wanted to… I mean, if you wanted to talk about that…”

“It’s…Fine.” He said in a low tone that did not sound like it was fine. Zenn’s entire demeanor shifted from his nervous awkwardness to something more…Distant and uncomfortable. He pulled his hand away from Sol and turned not just his head, but his whole body away from her. He had found out just this morning after the meeting. His ship. His captain and crew. All of them were still in the system. And not only had they still left him, but they had sided with someone he considered a terrorist. It was a lot to take in, but he had tried to put it to the side. There were more immediate things that needed his attention.

“Captain Gahn’Saaris is a man of action; sometimes to a fault. If he thinks his people are in danger he won’t hesitate to act, in some cases without thinking things through. I’m sure this is just a hasty reaction to finding out about quarians potentially being marked as a ‘species of concern’… I’ll handle it later but right now… We’ve got more important things to worry about.” He explained, the whole time staring idly at one of the generators.

Sol's head tilted again as she listened and observed Zenn, all the while, the hand on the stairwell feeling out the vibrations around them. She didn't know how he was feeling inside, but she knew how she did about her own circumstances. What he said was true, there were more important things, but her gut told her this was important too. Zenn was important. His feelings were important. A life of having her own shrugged off and locked away… Maybe to some they'd turn the same way. Not Solveig. She didn't want to inflict dismissal on anyone.

There it was, a click below them that began to swell up. If she timed it, she had a few seconds. "Do you trust me, Zenn?" She asked, not particularly waiting for an answer. She reached forward and grabbed his hand again, pulling him forward away from the stairs, her feet following the pressure in the pipes underneath them to the centre of the tiny space until… The vents released a stream of roaring cool air into the stairwell, and she yelled out into it. Her own voice getting drowned in that long sound but she released it regardless. Her frustration. Her bitterness. She bellowed it out toward the ceiling to be unheard, but felt.

Zenn was caught off guard by Sol’s question and her suddenly leading him deeper into the room. She took him to a tight space that had several ventilations nearby. Once they had stopped, Zenn took her other hand, fully intending to answer her question, when the vents erupted in a blast of air. Not only that, Sol herself erupted, screaming at the top of her lungs. Even being so close he could barely hear her over the rush of air blowing past them. He knew what she was letting out. He had read the news report about her mom the same time he read about the Konesh. She could have done this alone, yet she did this with him. She wanted him to see. Or maybe; wanted him to join.

He stopped thinking, and joined in. His voice joined with hers in a powerful loud scream to the heavens.

Soon enough, the pressure that had built up in the equipment subsided and the usual thrumming returned. In the silence, Sol waited a moment, her eyes closed as a deep breath left her. "I don't know why I just did that…" she said; quiet again with a note of panic. A small giggle followed. "I just… I don't know." She quickly regained composure enough to realise Zenn had taken her other hand, and that he too had something to scream out.

"I'm sorry about your crew," she finally spoke, low and sincere. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it... There's lots I don't want to talk about either…" She admitted, feeling like a hypocrite. She was giving Zenn more grace than she ever gave herself, in the same way that she’d do the same for Katya and Kysar too if they needed it.

“Hey, you don’t have to explain it to me.” Zenn said and squeezed her hands a bit tighter. “I know about your mom…I’m sorry we didn’t choose the memorial. If I had known…” Zenn stopped himself there. She had just said there was a lot she didn’t want to talk about. Just like him with the Konesh. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Why they had all this frustration pent up?

“There’s always something, isn’t there? Another crisis waiting around the corner. Another situation that requires our attention and makes our problems seem insignificant; even if they don’t feel that way. So we bury them. Put the needs of the many above ourselves and hope that by solving a big problem our small ones somehow get fixed in the process.” As Zenn talked, he took his left hand away, and reached up to place it on Sol’s shoulder. “But even if we don’t address or talk about them just yet…It helps to at least acknowledge them. Know that we’re not the only ones.”

“Bottle until we’re screaming in an engineer's hiding hole…” Sol broke their eye contact and looked down. Twice now, three times including Riley’s message, that her mother had been brought up today. It was so much easier when the feeling was just bottled and stowed away - and nobody knew. She could just do her job. All of these ripples just stirred it all up. That wellspring of grief that she had no idea what to do with. It had leaked over the sides. What was it? What is this fucking feeling? she asked herself, closing her eyes again. She hated you. Couldn’t even look at you. Couldn’t even say your name for the last decade.

“Hmmm-” the sound Sol made seemed distressed, and she twitched at the shoulder as the feeling crawled down her spine, clinging to her beneath the surface. “I was made for crisis. Not made for this.” I don’t know how to feel. Was what she wanted to say. She envied the way Zenn could speak like that. The party, the missions, the team… They’d all in some way been able to chip at something in her that was making her realise how deathly lonely she’d been and unearth something. Stop “Acknowledge and try again,” she said, bringing back her composure.

“Heh. I know what you mean. A reaper class threat we can deal with, but complex emotional problems? Can’t exactly fight those the same way. Not alone, anyway.” Zenn looked down at his hand, still interlocked with Sol’s. The sight made a smile grow on his face in spite of the current subject. He began gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. He wasn’t sure how her bionics worked or if she could even feel this, but hopefully it would help to soothe her even a little bit. “But neither of us are alone anymore. No one on the team is.”

Not alone…. Team… Sol stopped, looking down at Zenn’s hands on hers. He was right. Physical threats were easier, there was usually a clear method.

Once again, Sol’s nerves began to swell - but for a different reason. Zenn was right, they were a team. That anxious feeling built up in her stomach again and she frowned inadvertently, hearing an intrusive voice. Nothing good comes from lies… There was going to be another noise soon, seconds away - and she had those seconds to make a decision. Sol looked back up at Zenn. She trusted him, she decided. She grabbed him, her arms wrapping around his waist to pull him close to her until her face was near to his so she could whisper slowly to him. “Have to tell you something. Not here. Not safe. Soon.” She was about to let him go, but found more that she needed to say. “Please trust me.”

To say Zenn was stunned was an understatement. Sol had her arms completely around him, and had pulled him in so close her breath could fog his mask. In any other situation, this would have been an extremely romantic moment. Of course, things were never that simple. There was still his suit separating them from any true physical touch, and this whole moment was to inform him of the existence of a dangerous secret. Was everyone here hiding something? He didn’t like it. All the secrets being kept from each other. But after everything they had been through, he trusted Sol with his life. He looked back at her as the sound from the rush of air died down and nodded. “Okay.”

She felt terrible for it, but the fact was, she didn’t want to lie to Zenn. Didn’t want to keep secrets, no matter what they were. Even one like hers. Just tell him that. The words didn’t come, instead, she just held him for a moment longer, feeling guilty at the thought he might feel burdened now, or concerned. Idiot. You’re an idiot. “Everything is alright,” she said as she drew back, trying to offer reassurance in case he was worried. “I just want you to know… Me. Her voice was still quiet. “That’s all.”

“I want that too, but only at your pace.” Zenn reaffirmed. “I know you’ve done what you can, and while I’m curious for sure, I’m fine waiting until the time is right for the rest.” Zenn tried his best to keep his words vague or even sound like they were talking about something else. He understood what she was trying to do. Bugs could be planted anywhere by anyone who wanted to monitor them. If she didn’t feel safe discussing it now; he wouldn’t.

This kind of closeness wasn’t something Sol was used to, but Zenn had a way of setting her at ease. She gave him a slight nod with an appreciative smile, just watching him for a moment, thinking about him too. There was a relief in her knowing he understood how to react.

It would be time to get ready soon, just like he had said, another threat, another mission - something to pull them away from their own personal problems, but also from small moments like this. Moments that she could find herself getting used to. Sol closed her eyes and exhaled. “Thank you Zenn,” she breathed out steadily. Tentatively she brought her hand to his chest where he’d tapped her note earlier and drew a small circle with her thumb bringing it back again as she often seemed to when she felt things too quickly, like she’d been pulled back to a state of regular programming. “We should… Think about heading off…”

Even though his armor and suit were between him and Sol’s fingers, he could swear that he could feel her touch. The intricacies and worries of their conversation fled from his mind as he watched her draw her finger across his chest. Though it was in his mind, the feeling still lingered even after she recoiled her hand back. It took him a moment to break his trance and reply to Sol’s comment. “Y-yeah. Need to make sure we’re ready for this… For the mission I mean!”

Sol gave him a nod and one of her small smiles, unaware of the fact that Zenn had been so affected by her gesture. Together, they headed to the armoury to prepare themselves for the mission ahead.
2 years later and everything!


It had been two years since the events at the Police Precinct.

The team ended up greatly divided because of it, most went their own ways, some stayed on - eventually trickling off.

Two years of silence. The last real activity Eilidh had noticed must have been a year ago or so, Edge Towers rumbled again with noise and activity until it petered back out - new recruits came and went. The lights stayed on, the woman had been allowed to stay if she helped out with a few things for the real Justice League every now and then. Hell, she barely even felt like "Young Justice" anymore. Eilidh had seen two birthdays since.

She'd gotten so good at finding her way around - expertly so, in fact, without the noise and uproar that used to guide her through the halls. She knew every creaking floorboard now. It was still the same kettle in the kitchen that she knew so well. It had been at Edge Towers as long as she had. Had a louder whistle now. In the same way that she often started her day, she filled the thing - no longer all the way full, just enough for her.

Vincent, even back then, was never around a lot. His powers had always troubled him, Eilidh recalled, and yet still on some evenings, she would walk past his room - listening for the sound of him. Those times were becoming far less frequent.

It had been months since she'd heard anything at all about Wonder Girl. Conor, well, she missed him a lot - they were so similar, she recalled as she poured out her tea. She wondered if he ever did find himself. Cece, of course - kept in touch often with messages and such, but it wasn't the same as having her around.

Roy... Johnny... Hayden - oh Hayden. Eilidh had made sure to keep a box of cookies around for them. They must be what, 15 now? Even Hana, with her sharp tongue, was missed. Dandy, came to her thoughts. "Have they gotten better at communication by now?"

Yaro, Selene, Kevin. Julian...

As she shuffled over to her seat at the table, she yawned into her hand, her fingers bunched up in the sleeve of an oversized cardigan. She took a long sip of the tea.

"Maybe tomorrow they'll come back..." she said quietly.
SOLVEIG WISTROM

Wraith




It was late when Solveig’s drink and food arrived. An expensive looking glass that was icy to the touch. In the gloom of the space, she smiled slightly. They knew to freeze their vodka - it could be a sign of a decent enough drink. There was a single, large cube of ice in the center that frosted the sides of the glass. It went down well in a single mouthful.

The woman didn’t make a habit of drinking to the point of inebriation, but she could appreciate a good spirit, it took a lot to give her a buzz. Something about her size for one thing, and her Viking blood as her father would say - nordic ancestors from a long, long, long time ago.

The food was a delightfully small offering - a pastry that seemed to be filled with various spiced vegetables, potato, and cheese. It was just enough to take away hunger's clawing edge. Something else in her also quietened with the addition of spirit to the soul.

The curtains were pulled shut, and the door was locked. She had showered, dressed into something comfortable, and sat cross legged on the bed, glancing at her omni-tool and the flickering of notifications. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to keep the night out of her room, more that she wanted to keep whatever was in those messages, a firm secret.

Her fingers twitched nervously as she opened the first.

From: Wistrom, Dr. Lars
Subject: Dearest

My dearest Sol,

I cannot express enough in words how sorry I was to hear of your mother’s passing.

I hadn’t spoken to her in many years since our separation. I have to admit, I feel a sadness within me anyway, afterall, we were married for 20 years. I know that you must feel so conflicted.

Call me when you are able,

All of my love, my busunge
Papa


Solveig felt her chest tighten, and she bit down on her lip, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping both arms around them until she was a ball atop the bed.

From: Wistrom, Dr. Lars
Subject: RE: Dearest

My Sol,

Are you alright? I heard you went to see Agnes, I hope it brought you some closure.

Where are you?

All of my love to where you are, over the oceans that separate us.

Call me soon.

Papa


A noise in the corridor startled her, and for a good ten minutes, she got up and simply paced the room silently, a knot forming in her stomach as her notifications continued to flash on screen. Eventually, she made her way back to bed, climbing under the covers this time, drawing them up to conceal half of her face - her bright blue-grey eyes illuminated by the light of the screen.

From: Wistrom, Dr. Lars
Subject: RE: RE: Dearest

Sol,

Please, call me. I worry, I sense your spirit even now, as dark as things are my busunge, things will be alright.

I looked up at the stars today and was thankful to Agnes, she gave me you.

I need to hear from you, I am worried.

Papa


Solveig balled a fist up under the covers and closed her eyes tightly.

From: Wistrom, Dr. Lars
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Dearest

My daughter,

Perhaps you are happy? Are you finding yourself free from the constraints of her ambitions? I miss you, I still wish to hear from you and to see you soon. It has been too long.

I meditated today, and as I walked through the gardens I reflected on my life - we do not live long enough, there is so much for us to achieve when we are in balance and alignment. I know that you will find your way again.

I love you, all the way to the edge of the universe.

Papa


A tear rolled down her cheek, and still, she hesitated to reply. She could feel her father’s presence with her, and it was enough. She just… Didn’t have the words for him right now. She felt pangs of shame, panic, and anxiety and so she closed the messages. In Svalbard, she wouldn’t be too far from him… Perhaps?

She needed something to take her mind off it, and so she reached for the tv console. There had to be some noise to drown out the emotional stirring.

Godzilla vs. Gethzilla X: REDUX. Perfect.

Not long into the movie, she fell asleep - the flashing lights of the ridiculous action were like a broken neon sign on her window from the outside.

Uriel burst out from the inn - a mixture of determination and urgency in his stride. All he could think about was what was before them - he and his strange new companions. If that was the emergency inside the inn, what in Nirn could be outside?

The adrenaline from the encounter with the vampire also pushed him forward, but as he stepped out into the cool night air, he felt a searing pain in his hand and arm. As he emerged from the shadows and stood under the bright moonlight, he realised the extent of the damage. Blisters now covered his hand and arm, and the heat emanating from the wounds as the met the icy bite of the outdoors made him wince in pain. “Shit,” he gasped out, grabbing at the part of his arm that was unburned, squeezing down hard. “Shit,” he said again, before looking up and forward, his eyes locking towards the woman before him.

“Another one of you,” he shouted out - despite his pain and situation, ready again to fight if he had to. Then, he simply stopped in his tracks. Her eyes were glowing more red, enticing, soothing - calming. Sure enough, the pain in his arm began to subside and then he realised that in that minor few seconds she had closed the distance between them and held her hand just above his arm. A slight glow emanated from her fingertips and magicka dripped from her palm like golden tears. Just enough to numb the pain for now.

“Silence child, I am not of their ilk.” Her voice was off, like it wasn’t coming from her lips, despite the fact he saw her mouth move. It was as if the voice was around them. Each of them would feel the voice in their head.

She stepped back, looking out into the chaos - at those who chose to fight - at the growing flames in the town. The mage was interesting. She smirked. “My name is Eris. Time is calling for us to leave.”

"This one is right," Eris said, indicating to Imare as she turned on her heel to face the path ahead, clear of destruction. “Gather your things, we must retreat to the Temple. The rest of Anvil is lost now, it’s His domain.
The Dancing Donkey Inn, Anvil
13 Midyear, 7:30, apprx

Meanwhile, inside…

A chilling bite entered the Inn from an open window, snuffing out the candles that sat on some of the tables nearest to it. Soon after, a mist rolled in too - falling to the floor with it’s blue grey haze to swirl around the feet of some of the patrons. Uriel raised a brow and placed his glass calmly down on the bar. His hand went to his sword and he instinctively stood up, he felt himself sway ever so.

As he rubbed his eyes - hoping they were playing tricks, he walked closer to the window to look out. Noting the time, and the fact that his peers had not arrived for the end of their shift.

“Godsdamnit,” he muttered under his breath - taking not of those in the Inn. An Altmer woman with dark hair took his eye; as did an especially wiry looking Dunmer fellow with a rat-tailed hairstyle. He raised a brow as he looked back to the window.

He could make out a few figures in the distance - shadowy individuals rushing from corner to corner. Uriel wished he hadn’t been drinking, if he had been more aware, he might have been more on his toes when one of the creatures approached the window.

Uriel drew his sword as his eyes took in the green skin, a heavy brow, and red eyes as the creature then pushed her way in through the open window - shattering the glass and the frame. She grinned - flashing a set of fangs adjacent to her tusks.

“Your swords are no good here boy,” she snarled - lurching towards Uriel - pushing past the tables. “Surrender and you may be spared,” she added - her eyes flashing a hot red.

Uriel furrowed his brows, stepping back - and back again, until he found himself between the Orsimer, and behind him the Dunmer and Altmer strangers. It was his duty to protect them, he thought as he raised his sword swiftly and slashed at the Vampire. “Maybe so,” he said, with a turn of his heel and a motion of his hand he picked up a glass - hoping it was a strong substance. Then, carefully he reached for a candle that still burned. He held it at arms reach as the Vampire moved closer. He spat out the liquid forcefully and just as he’d hoped a stream of flame burst towards her face, stunning her. She screamed out in pain, a scream that felt haunting, and not from this world.

Quickly, Uriel turned to face the two - “we have to move!” he commanded, before turning his head. “Now, or never!”
The Dancing Donkey Inn, Anvil
13 Midyear, 7:30, apprx

Meanwhile, outside…




As the fog moved inward through Anvil, coating the streets and clinging to each darkened corner ominously, a silence fell in the moment - a chill ran through the air, the small crowd outside of the Inn would begin to see a silhouette moving toward them.

His footsteps were so light, despite his towering size - both in height and figure. He was imposing and moving faster through the fog to - suddenly his eyes would flash red to Harkon, and he would smile a crooked smile - a set of fangs glinting in the moonlight as his shape came into detail. He would look then too, unafraid, at Granuaille, holding his stare malevolently.

The vampire began to lift his hand, slow, methodical, the red in his eyes glowing bright toward Harkon, Granuaille, and Dereno.

Before he had a chance to snap a finger, or to turn his wrist, a whistle came from directly above. The sound of a cloak as it soared down and landed gracefully - light as a feather, and yet purposeful between the vampire and the patrons.

From a haunched position, another spectral figure rose up, the fog that had settled on her shoulders fell cascaded down - illuminating the slender figure, her hair, bright and silver, pulled taught atop her head, and fell down to the middle of her back like a stripe down her darkened clothes.

“Your journey ends,” she spoke - a husky whisper, and as the vampire diverted his attention and rushed at her, a clawed hand began to glow. It was almost gold, and yet, it flickered with bronze and black - distorted, changed. She held it toward the vampire and he stopped in his tracks - diving into it, as if he had been drawn toward her, or that he just hadn’t expected it. It was too fast, and as quickly as he had appeared in the mist, he crumpled back into it with a disturbing gasp.

“Retreat to the Inn, or remain and fight,” she said, turning her attention behind her - finally casting a cold gaze at Harkon, Granuaille, and Dereno. Like the creature she had just slain, her face too was pale - and there was also a glimmer of red in her eyes.

“There will be more than him. You answered my call, now comes the time to act.”

And then it happened. Screaming in the streets below them.

They were here.
Song on the Water




The Gold Coast, Anvil
13 Midyear, 7:00, apprx




Linus walked the stretching coast by the docks of Anvil, watching out to sea, only half-alert to his partner, Stanis, who walked just beside him. Ever since the killings had started, guards had been vigilant about sticking to pairs on the routes that they had normally taken alone.

It was a strange evening, Stanis thought - he looked at Linus who dragged himself along almost absent mindedly - still watching the water. “Eyes forward, Linus,” he said - his voice gruff as ever. Linus didn’t answer.

“Linus, we’re on duty,” he said with a sigh. It had been a long shift today, two bodies found. But they were almost ready to head back for the swap. Stanis reached out to touch Linus’ shoulder, but found that his reach was not long enough, and that Linus was veering towards the water slowly. “Linus,” he repeated again. This time, Linus stopped still in his tracks. Stanis held up his torch, and noticed his partner's eyes had all but glazed over, and that he looked directly out to the water now.

“What do you see?” he asked, stopping too - to look out at the water. It was too hard to see anything, just a mist on the water that was rolling in. The hair on the back of Stanis’ neck raised and he stepped forward further. Sure enough, there was a momentary break in the clouds and the moon peeked through, a split second of light flashed the outline of a ship on the horizon.

“What the?-” Stanis said, before it disappeared again.

Linus began to walk towards the water, his hands languid at his sides.

Then Stanis too, became aware of a melody, a pleasant humming out on the water - as soon as he noticed it, it seemed to grow louder, and harmonies began to overlap. He started to follow it, trailing behind Linus who was waist deep now.

The two torches disappeared into the mist.




From the dock itself, Amalia had her back turned to the scene. If she had been sooner to notice the torches go out, she might have had more time to prepare. Instead, she and her partner were playing cards, and sat behind a couple of barrels.

“Linus and Stanis should be about here by now,” she said as she began picking up her cards from in front of her. “Then how about we pick this back up at the Donkey?”

Her partner nodded in response, picking up his cards too. “We can meet them by the stairs, come on.” As he stood up, his knees cracked. “Need oiling these things do,” he groaned. “Too old for this shit now,” he added and began walking forward - suddenly stopping. “You hear that?” he asked Amalia, he turned his head out towards the water - hearing a whisper of a melody on the waves, a hauntingly beautiful sound that he turned towards entirely. “A bard…” he sighed.

“What are you talking about?” Amalia scoffed, watching him, and then looking out towards the stairs to see no sign of Stanis and Linus. As she turned back to her partner, he was already walking in the opposite direction to her down the wooden boardwalk toward the water.

“Could be a woman in trouble,” he said.

“I don’t hear anything, come on - lets just go,” she said, the distance between them growing until her partner took a step too far and dropped below and into the sea. “Gods!” Amalia exclaimed - she felt frozen. Something wasn’t right. She had just heard the splash of the guard as he dropped in, he didn’t come back up. All of her instinct told her to run in the opposite direction. Find someone else.

“Move,” she said, willing her feet to move - but something held her in place and her heart raced in her chest. “Move,” she said again, finally finding that she could - now her entire body felt flushed and hot with the fear, and she began running back towards the city. Get to Uriel, she thought. He’ll know what to do.

She might have made it, if only she had kept her eyes forward. If only she hadn’t looked back. It was then that she saw it, the imposing and unmistakable shape of a ship moving into the dock. It had no lights, no torches lit, and black sails. Amalia stopped.

They leapt out from both sides of the dock. Pirates, she thought, as she drew her own sword - ready to fight them. “Get back,” she shouted out, “you never should have come here,” she said.

The mist from the water had made it’s way to land now, and had engulfed her to the waist. Only one of the pirates moved - floated towards her, his soaked cloak clinging to a thin frame, as he drew nearer, she could make out a gaunt face and pointed ears. He smiled wide. She saw his teeth.

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