Status

Recent Statuses

10 hrs ago
Current Yes. Keep your eyes open for dropbears... That way you'll never see the magpies coming.
1 like
15 days ago
RIPerroni, Iceborne.
17 days ago
You got me there!
17 days ago
If you have to ask the question, it's usually because you already know the answer.
23 days ago
Hey, don't go sighing on Margaret Atwood she wrote one of the most important pieces of feminist literature of all time tyvm.
3 likes

Bio

Namaste!



I'm Stormflyx/Storm/Stormy!


I'm on the other side of mid-20's and I live in Australia - yes everything does try to kill you down here but it's worth it! I'm originally from the UK, I moved because of love or something like that. I've been here for 5 years and I do love it, the lifestyle, the weather, the chilled out vibe... Even the bugs have their charms.

By day I'm a marketing and design professional/boss lady, and by night I'm a couch potato. You will find me in jammies eating candy and chips always. I'm very obsessed with doggos.



I enjoy fantasy and sci-fi roleplays the most, so you're more than likely to find me in those. I like to write characters that are a bit dysfunctional or corrupt in some way. (I like villains!)

PM me if you like, or leave me a message for anything!

xoxo


Most Recent Posts

What is the foot?!
Her suspicions were all but confirmed as she watched Beren perform some strange acrobatic manoeuvre atop his pole. All of these people were odd, and that was probably why they had all ended up in each other’s company. It was probably why they hadn’t cast her out yet. It was probably why she felt herself smiling in sincerity at him, his facial expression comedic and in a way, cute. The almost stoic look he often wore was gone, at least she had thought he was stoic when she’d last really looked at his face. She had to remind herself that he had been asleep when that had happened.

She laughed to herself at her own mistake. A dry and raspy chuckle from the back of her throat, followed almost immediately by another obnoxious hiccup that had her almost fall forward for her seat on the step. She laughed again, less this time.

“You make this one laugh,” she remarked to Beren with a toothy grin. Was it genuine amusement, or amusement spurred by liquid courage? “I think I do like sometimes to do a trick like it. I don’t quite know as much balance as you.” Her broken common tongue was more apparent after the alcohol. “I think once I did a cartwheel across walls to reach a tower for... Something.” Her voice tapered off and she pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her head behind the. “I said much too much...” Even her pointed ears seemed to fall back and droop.

She didn’t sit like this for long, the Priest was up to something, his body shifting between stiffening and convulsing. He fell over to the ground briefly after a stumble. The words falling from his tongue were tinged with fear, and he warned and spoke of something terrible.

The Dorcha leapt to her feet, almost suffering from a similar bout of clumsiness as Sett just had, but she regained herself. “What is it?” She asked, her big silver orb like eyes wide with worry as her hands cloyed at the fabric of his shirt and she shook him. “What did your God man show you? What is the foot?” What is afoot? being the question she should have asked. Another one lost in translation. Sett had only a handful of inches on Aeryn, and she pushed herself to the tips of her toes to put her face as close to his face as she could. “What is the sign they sent for you?!”
The Bear and the Maiden Not-So Fair




The girl lay on her back with her arms spread out, watching the night sky above her, looking at each and every star that snuck into her vision from behind the canopy of trees towering above. Then she looked at the trees - trying to count the hundreds and thousands of leaves - even in the darkness she could make out their shapes and imagine the colours and the many shades of green. She imagined them growing out of the branches, and wished it were spring so she could see them blossom with flowers and fruit - more colours! Reds, violets, and magentas contrasting against the sharp greens set against a backdrop of grey clouds - dense and yet fluffy in the moonlight.

If it were daytime, she wondered what sounds she would hear - surely more birdsong. She loved birdsong - she imagined if she heard it enough, she could pick out a sparrow from a thrush from a robin from a blackbird. If it were daylight she might be able to see the birds, darting through the sky, swirling across an azure sky - a bright yellow sun glowing.

She listened closely to the sounds of the breeze snaking through the grass; along with the gentle hooting of a distant owl, and cicadas, so many cicadas played their symphony. That was all that she could hear. The sporadic hooting of an owl and the mass chirping of wildlife as she lay back on the solid ground taking it all in.

In this form, she felt small and insignificant, her own life disappearing on the breeze that she could hear - washed away on the streams that were somewhere off in the distance. She had learned these sounds off by heart. She knew how the sounds dipped and came back up, and that some of the animals and insects scarpered before the rainfall. She knew everything like the back of her hand. Yet still, this land was a mystery to her and something she would never truly know.

The thunder began to roll over as clouds formed and floated across the curtain of night. Each of the familiar stars disappeared behind the clouds that moved in - and then came the rain.

If she concentrated hard enough she could imagine how cold and refreshing each drop would feel on her skin, she could imagine the trickle of water rushing down her face and through her hairline, she could imagine how the humidity and rainfall would cause her clothes to cling to her skin, growing tight and uncomfortable - and cold. She could imagine the sensation of fresh water on her lips. But the rest of this scene was a mystery.

She could only see so little, for such a short amount of time. Because it was now time to wake up.

The loud banging of a hand nestled in a gauntlet thunked against the heavy wood of a door pulled her from her dream. No matter how she tightly she closed her eyes, it never came back. It might be another lengthy wait until this particular dream came back to her. “Up, Seven,” came the gruff and unforgiving voice of a patrolling guard as he paced the stronghold, his footsteps languid and dragging against the cold hard stone.

“It’s Caeliana…” she whispered under her breath when she was sure he was out of earshot.

With that, she blinked awake, heart racing from the crude wake-up call and mood soured from being yanked right out of paradise and back into reality.

What kind of day would it be? She wondered as she lifted her legs from the bed, her bare feet touching the cold stone. She recoiled. There was never a day the sensation didn’t catch her by surprise. The very last dregs of sleep had now been shocked from her system, so there was always that. “It feels like a sunny day,” she said sarcastically as she walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. “Ahhh yes, I knew it,” she began in a slightly theatrical tone to herself, picking up a tankard half-filled with water “sunny and not a cloud in sight…” Outside of the window, really, was a lonely sight. The sky was a slate grey, always threatening something. What was behind those clouds today?

The Imperial took a seat on the windowsill, blowing free drust from the rim of the tankard before she took a long sip. It was stale again and she scrunched up her face in disgust and croaked, “tastes so good, so refreshing. I feel soooooooooooooooo hydrated...” She tipped the last of it onto the floor, staring blankly up at the lonely sky.

“And today, we’ll take a walk through the forest and perhaps have time to for a splash in the river…” Caeliana said as she made her way around the tiny room. A tiny square of stone walls, stone ceiling, stone floor. Just a simple cot in the corner and a dummy who had seen better days to hold her armour up. Three candles sat on a small end table. That was it. She pulled on her jersey and trousers quickly. Like the dummy, her jersey had seen better days. It was getting threadbare at the elbow and shoulder. Not to mention that it was torn under the arm. She would need to get that repaired.

“Maybe I’ll see rabbits or foxes running over the meadow. The sun always brings them out to play. Not to mention there will be some does springing through the long grass.” She pulled the breast plate on, fastening the leather straps over her shoulders.

“I’ll set up up a campfire, have myself a small picnic of bread and cheese… A glass of wine.” She tugged at the belt, letting the steel plates fall comfortably at her thighs.

“After that I’ll lie back on the grass and take a nice nap…” A leather strap was used to pull back her hair into a bun at the back of her head, the usual strands fell loose from it and framed her face. So buried deep in her own imagination was she, that she didn’t hear the clumping sound of steel boots tracking back across the corridor.

The hand battered against the door again, so hard this time it shook free some dust from the frame. An abruptly angry voice yelled out from behind it. “Seven. Stop fucking talking that nonsense to yourself and get to the Godsdamned pit already.”

“Aye!” She shouted back, scowling from behind the door. Once again she waited until the old tin can had all but gone, and she whispered under breath “guess that’s a dream for tomorrow…”




She stepped into the arena, it was yet more stone and grey and sleet. The rumblings of thunder over in the mountains carried on a gale to Windhelm, but the fortress kept them safe, at least that’s what they were told. It was as cold as ever, so cold and biting that it made even her tanned cheeks turn red and the wind nipped at her face so much that it brought tears to her eyes. It was a harsh and unforgiving day, not a ray of sun in sight. She sighed - unsheathing her sword, the familiar ringing of the steel almost made her feel comforted. What would the challenge be today?

From the other side, a gate was opened. She stood ready, hunched slightly, shield on her arm held out in front of her. It was usually other soldiers, it was normally a sparring session. Sometimes, they’d fight some of the criminal scum picked up from the slums. Hell, Windhelm was just one giant fucking slum. “Come on…” she muttered, gaze intense at the dark corridor. She heard heavy footsteps. She felt them on the ground. “Oh my…” she gasped, as the form of a Bear lunged from the gate.

He was a huge beast indeed. How had they captured it? She was in awe, it was rare that animals were brought in like this. There was something completely wrong with this one though, and she sensed it immediately. There was a red mist surrounding his entire body, radiating from him. But his eyes - the eyes showed his pain. He was under a spell. Fury

Her next observation was a series of slashes upon the belly of the beast, barely stitched together with magic. “How many times have they had you out here today?” Caeliana was incensed, it was unspeakably cruel and it didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened to such a beautiful creature. He deserved better than to be a slave to violence here. She did not know how many time he had fought against the Gladiator’s of Windhelm since he was captured, but this would be the last. She would make it quick too, the guards would not have time to figure out her plan.

The bear bellowed out at the Imperial, a rasping and desperate sound that cut through her more than it’s claws ever could. It was pleading her to end it, at least that’s what she told herself. Her sword would only touch him once and it would be the last time steel ever did. Her eyes narrowed and she began a sprint parallel to the bear and she watched as he tracked her. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword and as the bear began to close the distance, a blue light coalesced in her palm and her shield came loose from her wrist.

Under the force of her Telekinesis, she got enough weight behind the round shield to have it hurl towards the bear until it made contact with it’s head with a loud and dense ”thwack”. The shield dropped and rolled, metal scraping on stone - the sound bouncing around the walls of the arena. He was still up. It hadn’t been enough, “shit!” she yelled out, laughter erupted from the guards of the arena. “Gonna take more than that, Seven!” one of them called back in between his annoying chortling.

She had to move now, though the bear had slowed down and was stumbling, she was still in trouble if it met her. She widened the gap with a quick sprint to the centre, “come on baby, follow the leader,” she breathed as her palms lit up again and she lifted up the shield once more, this time she threw it up into the air. It needed more weight, and she knew there was nothing like a good long fall to add enough weight to finish this. “Come on now,” she said through gritted teeth as he lurched forwards, the red mist still swirling around him in frenzied wisps. He roared out again, a tired yelp finished it and the gap was growing small enough for him to take a swing at Caeliana, but the shield landed first. Right at the nape of his neck, causing him to slowly drop, right at her feet. Perfect timing. The red faded away and all that was left was the exhausted, panting creature - not an ounce of fight left in him.

“Yer done, back up and we’ll have it taken back. Good work,” the guard from the outskirts said as he knelt down to pick up a chain from the ground. She did not listen, instead, pivoting so that she had a foot either side of the bears head, her hand on top of him. His fur was so soft, just like the fur that lined her cloak. She watched his breath form as clouds from his mouth and nose, saliva pooling around his chin. He cried so softly. The pain of his poorly tended wounds catching up to him.

“I’m watching you, Seven. Don’t you try it or you’ll be in deep shit. Wulfharth risked good men to catch that beast,” spat the guard from the edge of the arena as he began to sprint out towards Caeliana, watching her raise her sword to the unconscious bear, “we’ll get more training from it yet! He’ll have you fucking lashed for your insolence!” If the guard had not wasted his breath shouting across the arena to her, he might have been able to catch her before she took her sword to the neck of the bear, placing a Calming touch on his head with her free hand. It was a singular swift and graceful movement that finished the job and released the animal from it’s torture. A spray of crimson followed.

“Talos have mercy on you, creature.” Caeliana whispered down to the fallen beast, watching the blood pour from her blade to the stone.

“You’re in trouble now you fuckin’ brat. You’re gonna get bumped - wonder where you’ll land this time... Shame, cos I heard you were this close to being Six,” laughed the guard heartlessly as he grabbed Caeliana by her arm and began to drag her away from the scene.

Worth it. She thought to herself as the beginnings of a smirk curled over her lips.

Name: Caeliana
Age: 26
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Birth Sign: The Warrior

Appearance:



Caeliana often seems to have an expression on her face which suggests that she is about to laugh at something she shouldn’t be laughing at. A strange way to start to describe someone, but considering that she, in any other situation, is a fearsome warrior, it’s important to first and foremost note her outward friendliness and insatiable curiosity. It is worn on her face, her hunger for knowledge is placed in her emerald green eyes as a twinkle, and her desire for justice is seen when her brows furrow across the almond shaped orbs and she almost scowls. Almost.

She is typically Imperial in appearance, her skin tanned despite it never having seen the sun, and her hair is a raven black - falling in soft, unkempt waves over her shoulders and to her collarbone. Her face is strong and angular like a true Imperial’s is, with a strong nose and jawline that are complemented by high cheekbones and her feminine lips, curved at the corners. When she smiles, her mouth stretches from ear to ear and a dimple appears in each cheek. Despite having ever so slightly bucked teeth, it does not stop her from displaying her teeth when she smiles.

She does not belong in the world in which she was born. Unlike the others around her, she does not carry a heaviness on her shoulders. She walks with a light and balletic grace - her footsteps soft and not dragging. Caeliana stands tall at 5’8”, her head and shoulders held high and not slumped over. Her body is built with solid muscle from years and years of relentless training as a Gladiator for Wulfharth Backbreaker. Many of the scars and injuries she received as a Gladiator were mended with restorative magic, and as such save for a few that got away, her body is relatively scar free. There is only one scar that did not heal, a burn traveling the outside length of her left forearm.

She looks to the stars, not into the gutter. The world is crumbling - or so she has heard, and all she wants is to learn. While everyone around her follows their orders and dares not step out of line, Caeliana pushes her luck. Smiling as often as she can, and finding laughter in dark places.

Skills:

Highly Proficient: One-Handed

Moderately Proficient: Block, Marksman, Alteration

Somewhat Proficient: Illusion, Heavy Armour, Speech

Spells: Stoneflesh, Telekinesis, Detect Life, Calm, Courage, Clairvoyance

Equipment:

Steel Longsword: A seemingly unremarkable sword. Forged and made in the same fashion as the rest of the Gladiator swords. The only unique aspect of the sword is the leather strapping she applied herself to the hilt for a better grip. It falls into a tassel at the pommel, and has select beads woven into it.

Steel Hoplite Shield: A mid-sized and slightly concaved shield with the Windhelm emblem painted onto the steel. Made especially for Caeliana after she showed aptitude for Telekinesis. The round shapes lends well to being thrown about the battlefield.

Hunting Knife: Doesn’t everyone have one of these? Caeliana’s is a simple iron knife, strapped to her thigh for use in emergency. A relic of times gone by. She has never left Windhelm to go hunting, so she does not know how well such a knife would take a pelt from an animal. It brings her comfort to have it regardless.

Steel Armour: It is not a full suit of armour, but instead covers the chest, shoulders, and the outside of her thighs. Underneath the armour she wears blood red linen breeches and a red cotton jersey. Over the top of the armour she wears a heavy black cloak lined with with the fur of a bear across the shoulders. Steel boots to the knee complete the look. As a prized Gladiator of Windhelm, this is her uniform.

Pendant Necklace: Her only real possession, and thus her most prized. A necklace with a star shaped pendant on a gold chain. Perhaps an insight to her parentage, or of her family's past in Cyrodiil.

Satchel: Within her satchel she keeps a journal, as well as a quill and ink. She uses it very sparingly, as ink can be hard to come by. There is a single silver earring that she kept floating around the bottom. It was found on the outside of Windhelm, she keeps it to remind her that there was once life outside of the walls.

Potions/Medical Supplies: Carries a small health and magicka potion, as well as a roll of bandages in case of emergencies.

Torch: Never goes out without one.

Misc:
Is deeply fascinated by anything from the ‘Outside World’ and has a secret stash somewhere of goods that she’s managed to get her hands on.
Asks questions near constantly, and her curiosity has often gotten her in trouble.
Is an avid reader.
Is scared of complete darkness, and so will always sleep by a hearthfire where possible.
Has never ventured outside of Windhelm.

I will see about getting my reply in when I finish work :)
That was an unexpected laugh this morning @BCTheEntity
Hola mis amores!




I'm looking for committed roleplay partners for small, long term games.

The Important Stuff

Level: I write at an advanced level - please go check out my profile for any of my posts in my current roleplays if that helps you! I would expect a partner to also write at least at a similar level to me. For the sake of maintaining momentum I am happy to accept 3-5 paragraph posts.

Post Frequency: Look, life happens and life/work etc is always more important than RPG - but I am looking for people who can commit to our project for a long time. If you can only post once a week or once a fortnight, that's fine by me - let's just make that clear and set expectations that work for the both of us from the start.

Romance: I love writing romance, it's fantastic! That said, it has to be about characters for me - I'm not a fan of written in love interests and I prefer to see chemistry play out before committing in game to romance. Things have to happen naturally. I'm more of a fade to black kind of writer too, but I'm not averse to writing some light smut if it's important ;o




Why am I looking? Well - I guess because I'm a poor GM, but I love writing rich stories with lots of characters and world building. I love crafting a story, planning, and executing great ideas into fantastic writing. :) If you're like this too, and are interested in rolling as more than one character, playing as NPC's, and developing a story from beginning to end - then get in touch, either here or by PM :)

If you are looking for an adventure - I'm your gal :)




Genres:
Science Fiction
Science Fantasy
High Fantasy
Western
Mystery/Drama
Horror
Dystopian Future

Fandoms:
Mass Effect
The Elder Scrolls
Star Wars
The Witcher
Game of Thrones
Firefly
Supernatural
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Final Fantasy
Life is Strange
Kesir Apartment, Presidium Commons, The Citadel
Several days ago...





No matter what was happening that day, no matter how urgent a task seemed to be - there was first time for a morning routine. There was always enough time to set aside to properly prepare. The lilac skinned Asari stepped out into the lounge room of her Citadel apartment, the soft carpet under her bare feet was a familiar comfort, the carpet had not been changed for over 286 years, and yet it was still almost as pristine as the first day it was placed, just a few scuffs here and there, and a distinct dip where it had been worn down underfoot in the doorway. Still, these were the things that Naryxa appreciated.

She appreciated that, while she often felt restless and wanted to move on to a new vocation or activity - her father’s apartment was always the same and had been since she was a child. The very same terrarium was built into the wall between the lounge and kitchen, it just had different plants in it from time to time. Such a home would be incomprehensible to most races in the galaxy. That the very same statue that was placed there in 1876 by the famed Salarian biologist Gurok Teran was still in the same spot that he had placed it all those years ago for decoration - incomprehensible. But these were very minor in the grand scheme of things, but to Naryxa, her apartment represented an anchor and constant that kept her grounded.

She pushed open a window, to take a few moments to breath in the early morning air with a smile before flicking a switch on the wall. The terrarium lit up, and mist shot into it from sprinklers fitted into its ceiling. She made her way with soft steps to her bedroom, the sliding door hissing quietly as it pulled open to allow Naryxa through. She turned the blinds open - natural light filtering through into the room as she sat cross legged on the floor and closed her eyes. Meditation was the perfect way to begin a day, and allow a clear mind and relaxed body.

The Asari allowed herself an extra hour this morning for her practice. She would be away from The Citadel for a while, and when that was the case she would take time to appreciate her surroundings. She opened her eyes and twisted herself into the first of many positions she would get into, bare skin soaking in the light from the window. It was freeing, and there would most certainly be no naked yoga for her in Omega.





Afterlife Nightclub, Omega
Several nights ago...


“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Nair…” came the sultry voice of a Drell from the bar. He had one arm resting against the surface - the other at his side holding a glass.

“Dransu, a pleasure to see you again,” Naryxa replied with a smile as she sat herself down into the seat, turning just enough so that the alien could catch a glimpse of her physique - of her bare skin where the dress allowed it, most notable her back and shoulders. She could tell he was looking.

“Pretty sure the pleasure will be all mine if I play my cards right, never can tell with you.” He sidled closer and took the empty seat beside her, the aggressive strobe lights of the nightclub flashing off his gold and blue complexion. “What are you doing out in Omega anyway?” He motioned with his finger to the Asari behind the bar, “a drink for my friend here,” he said as she placed both elbows on the surface of the bar, interlacing his fingers.

“Was hoping to find a job or two - maybe you could help a girl out,” Naryxa said coyly as she took the glass from the barmaid and shot a smile in Dransu’s direction. He did look very dashing in his casual attire, she had to resist thinking about how good it would look draped over furniture and thrown around a room. “Don’t play the innocent flirt now,” he laughed as he moved closer to her, tempted to trace a finger down her spine. His fingers locked tighter. “I might know of something, whispers on the wind and all that…”

Naryxa sipped from her glass, the stones of her dress shimmering with every subtle movement she made. “I wanted to get away for a bit, from The Citadel. I miss travelling with people, you know?” she remarked with a sigh, moving her finger back and forth over the rim of the glass. “It’s been a bit lonely since, well…” Her head tilted to the side as she felt herself reflecting on the events of the last year. “Truthfully, publishing articles isn’t exactly raking in the credits either.” She hated to admit it, but in times of strife and unrest, academia was just not as important or revered. What had happened to The Citadel had caused an unsettling kind of trouble.

“Mmmm, wouldn’t know anything about that. Always been a rogue living in the underbelly of society,” Dransu scoffed - taking back the last dregs of his drink. “Must be nice to have the opportunities to flitter around like you do.” There was an almost bitter quality to his voice, but Naryxa paid it no mind, and instead had his glass topped up. “That’s your charm though isn’t it?” she tapped the rim of her glass to his, “so, about that whisper on the wind…”

He clicked his tongue at her, shaking his head with a sigh “look for a Volus with a coffee machine.” He watched her face suddenly change to show a confused expression, at which point he smirked again, a breathy chuckle following. “That’s all the whispers allow me to know.”

“I suppose that'll do, how hard can he be to find?”

"So, you gonna join me for a dance to say thanks?" He had finally lifted his hand from the bar top, and was weighing up the consequences in his mind of touching her. As it happened, any consequence would be worth it and he smoothly ran his finger softly down the Asari's spine, resting his palm flat against the small of her back. His eyes had narrowed and his lips curled to a flirtatious smile. She looked at him with a warm expression - he was a good companion of hers, and since she had known him she had found it hard to deny him anything. "Well, I did come to Afterlife to dance, I don't get dressed like this to sit at the bar all night."

With that, they headed over to the dancefloor together. Tonight, she would enjoy herself - tomorrow she had a coffee machine to hunt down.


Listen





As the sun began its slow, lingering ascent of the day, she watched with a sense of wonder as liquid gold spilled across the very edge of the horizon and bled out as far as her eyes could track it. The intensity of the red set fire to the pools of water that were her own eyes and cast an orange aura around her, painting her the colour of marigolds. With the breeze running through her hair, and her gaze so intense toward something out there, she almost let herself slip away and briefly forgot her reason for seeking out such a beautifully lonely spot.

She took her time in standing up, reflecting on the conversation she had just had with Zaveed - rather, the conversation he had forced upon her. The way that, even when she had demanded he listen, he had still seen fit to talk at her. His bold assumption that their encounters had connected them on enough of a level that he somehow knew her better than she knew herself, and thus would save her from the madness that he had put there. To absolve himself of his own guilt perhaps? When would someone just listen to her?

She did not feel better.

His inability to cease his tongue only served to remind her that nobody cared anymore, if they even had in the first place. What happened to her was the news of yesterday now. He was not someone she wanted to know or be around, but for whatever reason and for whatever purpose, they were stuck together now. She could either avoid him and slither to the fringes of the group to put as much distance between them as possible, or she could rise above it and carry on - ignoring his presence.

If such a few short experiences of suffering had caused her to be so angry, then what would years of it do? But she realised that even a stone could be worn down with enough rain, and that a mind troubled by doubt and pain could not focus on victory. Would she ever flee the misery within herself? She could no sooner stop herself from feeling sadness and sorrow than she could stop herself from taking in the scent of flowers that were freshly picked and arranged in a vase in front of her.

She was not a patient woman, it had never suited her to be that way. It was her mother that remarked that she and her father were like water and the sea, ever changing and moving - unable to stop. This was unlike Roxada who had the stillness of the earth itself in her personality, as if she were a tree firmly rooted into the ground. She was stubborn and unmoving when she needed to be but kind and patient about it. Roxada’s temper flared from her maternal instinct. Raelynn’s temper was flared by the obstacles in her path. Right now, Zaveed being here to remind her of the misery she had endured was an obstacle that, like water, she would have to find a way around.

She continued through the mouth of the cave, and somehow her throat swallowed back something, it pushed down a knot of emotion that there was no room left on her face to display. People were waking up now to the day as dawn broke through and brought the intense warmth with it. All at once, she realised that she had been, for so long posturing for a crowd. When in fact all that was there was a strip of emptiness and nobody to hear her.

The events of the days gone by strangely brought to mind a very old song that her father used to sing to she and her mother, that his own mother had sung to him when he was a child, the lyrics somewhat questionable in nature were to be sung in what Salosoix had thought to be a dialectical derivative of Ayleidoon. Whether that was true or not beggared belief, she had even wondered if it was all just made up. It certainly sounded somewhat like a language of Mer - the way the consonants fell softly from the lips. She just knew the sound of the words and their meaning when strung together.

What mattered was that she knew this song, and it’s meaning. Nobody else would.

As her bare feet met the cold stone once more, she filled her lungs with the breath required to perform her song and began in a clear voice - soft and delicate. It resonated around the walls of the chasm that was their current sanctuary. Clear as crystal and effortlessly pleasant, she carried her song with her to the pool of water central in the Oasis, picking up an empty jug on her way.

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
A glance from her, a city falls
A second glance leaves nations in ruins
There is no city or nation that has been
More cherished than a beauty like she.


The lyrics felt indecorate to her now, and she thought of Gilane - of plumes of smoke towering above the palace. Of the clash of the chandelier above Rourken’s head, the look of shock and fury she had on her face after seeing Raelynn materialise before her eyes just as she was about to have her way with Gregor and defeat him. She stole that opportunity from her bare hands with her very presence. And yet, the song was beautiful. An almost haunting melody that echoed and reverberated around the oasis as if it were now her own arena.

She filled the jug with the freshwater from the waterfall, a smile on her face as she did so, her eyes alight with a secret joy. This was the catharsis she had needed, there she was - singing in poetry an almost confession of her misdeeds and it rang out as something beautiful and as smooth as the silk of her blouse, flowing like the water of the springs...

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
With her eyes like vast oceans
At her will, a province drowns
There is no province in all of Nirn,
More cherished than a beauty like she.


As she reached the final verse, she thought of Gregor and the fiery nature he would be trying to suppress right now while keeping his secret under the veil of his shadow in the company of their party. Dreams and quests could be such dangerous things: they smoldered like fire, and sometimes those very flames reach levels in which they consume all… She looked over at him as he went about his morning business, continuing to sing. She was emboldened further by him as she reached the climax of her secret song.

Lyrics aside, it felt… Nice to do this.

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
She wields fire and flame in her heart
In her grip the world will burn
There is no world in Oblivion,
More cherished than a beauty like she.


She pictured her lover, adorned in his battledress - an army of undead to the left and right of him in the palace of Gilane. The great lengths he had gone to keep his promise to her. What else would await them? What else would they burn, drown, and ruin together? With that thought came an almost contrasting vision of the two of them together in peace - away from all of this, away from the troubles that had been hunting them down. No cave floor to sleep on, but a comfortable bed by a generous hearthfire. Paintings hung on the wall - it was a beautiful but modest room - just one of many in a beautiful home in some slumbering town on the outskirts of the busy cities. It was just theirs.

There was to be no soul trapping, no torture - nobody stopping them or frightening them or threatening them. Just Gregor and Raelynn.

That would be the victory on which she would focus.

It occurred to her then, as she stood by the waterfall that when a stone is dropped into a pond, the water would continue quivering from its weight even after it had touched the bottom. Whatever the struggles she would face, and whatever they would both accomplish - after time all suffering would eventually fall from them. The ripples would cease, and the stone would be just that - a single stone at the bottom of a vast pond.

All of a sudden, she felt better again.
On a Bed of Green Blades


with @Hank




Late afternoon, 14th of Midyear, 4E208
The Oasis, Alik’r Desert, Hammerfell


Gregor had quickly changed out of his black clothes and into his linens before they had set off into the desert. Even so, beads of sweat dripped down his face and his white shirt clung to his muscular torso, the thin fabric turning somewhat transparent, showing off the vague black shapes of his tattoos to everyone that looked at him. He had never experienced heat like this before. It was grueling. Still exhausted from fighting his way into, and out of, the palace, and being struck in the chest by Rourken’s lightning magic, it took all of Gregor’s willpower not to fall asleep in the saddle. His relief was immeasurable when they reached the underground oasis and he made sure to give Shakti and Mazrah a grateful smile and a pat on the back before he quenched his thirst and made himself comfortable on the soft, lichen-covered ground. He closed his eyes and a long sigh escaped him. Everything hurt. Whether it was because Raelynn’s ointment had started to wear off or because the thunderbolt that hit him had reawakened the pain in his muscles Gregor couldn’t tell. Either way, it was rough.

He had spent the entire journey so far boring his gaze into Zaveed’s back. Seeing the Khajiit again and having Daro’Vasora tell him that they were supposedly allies -- if only for the time being -- would have certainly driven Gregor to immense fury, if he hadn’t been so drained. Even in his current state, the insufferable wink that Zaveed had given him when their eyes locked for the first time after their fight in the alley had almost made Gregor reach for his claymore to take another one of his cat-lives then and there. It was the pain in his shoulder and a small voice in the back of his mind that yelled at him to control himself that had stopped him. Raelynn had chosen to spare Zaveed’s life. It was not up to him to undo that decision anymore. He was simply going to have to suffer their presence.

When Gregor opened his eyes again they met the glacial blue gaze of his lover, Raelynn, the color of her eyes more vibrant than ever in the golden light of the desert sun. They remained still, just looking at each other, until Gregor eventually cracked a smile. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice was hoarse and and he cleared his throat, mildly alarmed at how weak he sounded.

Unlike Gregor, Raelynn had not spoken a word to anyone, nor made eye contact with a soul. She had too much on her mind to give thought to them all. So Zaveed was here? Wonderful. It was simply fabulous to have been asked about it, she had thought. After that, she didn't think about him anymore. If she was exhausted then she did not show it for even one second, and remained perched upright and graceful for the ride to their camp behind Gregor, her hands against his sides comfortably.

She had gathered what she could on their way out, and her sword was now affixed to her back in a simple leather harness that was bound across her chest. Her hair had remained immaculately styled despite the whirlwind of action, her skin was kissed with a bronze glow. She relished in how good she still looked, especially as the others looked like they'd trekked through the desert as they each had. The black eyeliner had smudged only just, but it concealed the exhaustion sitting under her eyes.

She had silently placed the bag containing Daro'Vasora's belongings at the place she had pitched her tent before returning to her own, removing her own belongings to gather them, as if keeping a mental inventory. She felt tense and full of emotions and thoughts that, like her belongings, she was cataloguing inside her mind. She would go through each one individually and in order when the time was right.

Gregor's gaze was soft, and in turn it softened her just enough to smile down at him as he lay back against the grass as one would do on a summer's day in a bright and vast meadow, a breeze carrying all worries away. This however, was no meadow, as evidenced by the constant sound of chatter and the pattering of feet. So many feet. Raelynn sighed as she looked out at them all, a knot forming in her stomach. She had been living alone for a while, in quiet solitude and isolation and she was now thrust back into the fray.

“Because I can,” she said, almost playfully, in response to Gregor. If she just focussed on him - everyone else wasn't there, and there was silence again.

“Fair,” Gregor replied and his smile widened. “You look so beautiful. How do you do it? I feel like I’m dying in this heat.”

“Born with it, or something like that,” she said in almost a whisper as her lips curled to a smile. She turned back to what she had been doing. “It's…” she began, her eyes tracking the perimeter of the camp, “I don’t know actually, nevermind.”

There it was. The weight on Raelynn’s shoulders that Gregor had been worried he would see. Any number of things could be on her mind, but he decided to surprise her with the least likely thing she probably expected to hear from him. “I’m sorry about Alim,” he said softly. “I hope we can get him back soon.”

Her eyebrows drooped at the mention of him, and she simply exhaled a quiet ”hmmmm” sound. The last time that she had been genuinely happy in Gilane had been dancing in the streets with her friend. The very same afternoon that she had been taken. “He's smart,” Raelynn uttered softly, “he'll be fine.” There was a finality to it that made it clear she wasn't willing to talk too much about it.

“Very true.” Gregor knew Raelynn well enough to pick up on the tone of her voice and he looked away, thinking about what to say. The urge to cheer Raelynn up was stronger than the simmering anger and disappointment that he felt himself and he chuckled when he became aware of the fact. It had been a long time since he had put the needs of another before his own so subconsciously.

He dropped his voice, making sure that nobody could overhear them. “Did you notice the way you-know-who reacted to seeing that clean-shaven officer, and what she said about me taking him from her? I think that was her… lover, or something,” Gregor said and his eyes narrowed with the glint of satisfaction. “She lives, but we hurt her where it counts.”

She smirked. The black dress made by her mother held up in front of her, she shook it free of sand, using it as a veil to hide her expression from anyone who may glance over at the two of them. The knot loosened and was replaced with a familiar feeling of longing, an almost pleasurable squeeze around her waist. Her thighs twitched. “I watched the whole thing, I saw her every reaction to you,” she breathed softly. Her eyes glimmered with something.

The breathy quality of her whisper and the look in her eyes stirred a familiar sensation within Gregor and he smirked, his pulse quickening. Even if the outcome wasn’t ideal, what they had done had been undeniably thrilling. “And was it to your satisfaction?” he asked in an equally soft voice, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“I hadn't realised you were that…” she paused deliberately, letting him hang for a moment and she bit down on her lower lip to provide him with something purposefully visual. “Powerful.” Raelynn raised the tone of her voice to a girlish coo, releasing her lip from her teeth with a smirk. “Now I've seen… Everything that you are.” She placed the dress in front of her, folding it with great care before turning to Gregor, her mouth slightly open as she gazed down at him. To anyone who happened to glance over it would appear as an innocently affectionate exchange as she placed a finger under his chin, practically mouthing the words to him; “yes, I'm satisfied…”

Gregor propped himself up, placed his hands -- the hands of a killer, but now so very gentle -- on her hips and pulled her a little closer. He could practically feel her words soothe the storm inside of him. “When you stood between me and her,” he murmured, remembering the scene in his mind’s eye, the way he had looked up at her from his crumpled position on the floor, “you were the brightest star in the sky. I love you, Raelynn. I really, really do.”

She had never really paid much mind to his compliments, but the way he had said it caught her off guard this time and she gasped sharply, relaxing against him, her guard slipping down. Everyone had come to save the Khajiit on this day, but Gregor had fought for her, and had kept his word. It was all she needed, just him. “I…” she began, blinking at him, she had so much she wanted to say and there were so many things that had to be done right now, but the moment they were sharing together allowed her to escape that dreadful feeling of urgency. “Thank you,” were the words. “For keeping your promise.” The way that she had said it, the way she felt it leave her body was akin to rain after a drought. It was barely a sentence, but it was the most sincere display of gratefulness she had made in her life.

“Of course,” he whispered. Gregor wrapped his arms around Raelynn, one hand resting on her lower back and the other on her neck, and kissed her slowly and softly. The deep sincerity of her gratitude made it all worth it. Beneath all the cruelty and the violence that had become a part of him during his quest, this is who Gregor felt he really was. Raelynn could bring out the darkest side of him but it was during moments like this that she made him feel more human than anything else could. It was deeply moving and Gregor closed his eyes, holding on to Raelynn tightly, breathing in her scent and feeling her body against his. “I am yours and you are mine.”

Raelynn moved her own arms around him too, placing her head against his neck. She kissed him there before sighing contentedly, tempted to close her eyes and drift off to sleep in his arms like that. It was the sound of an iron pot hitting stone somewhere in the distance that pulled her from the moment, a crashing reminder they were not alone. The Breton peeled herself away slowly, planting another kiss on Gregor's cheek with a smile before returning once more to her task. “I think I took for granted having all that space to ourselves…” She remarked, removing several books from her last bag of belongings.

Content to merely watch, Gregor hummed in agreement. He had significantly less belongings than she did and there was nothing more for him to do after he’d dumped his backpack on the ground. “I never expected to see them again either,” Gregor said and it was clear who he meant from the tone of his voice. “How…” he began, unsure of whether or not this was a wise subject to broach, but he pressed ahead anyway. “How do you feel about it?”

Her skin crawled at the very mention and she flinched in disgust. It was hard to put into words how she felt, maybe it was easier to start with another promise - one that had been broken. “After I… After I saved his life I walked away,” Raelynn began, her voice was no longer as hushed - as if she was daring Zaveed himself to pry; “but I turned back and I don't know what came over me. I threw his face to the ground and told him that he would never come to any of us again.” Even thinking about it made her blood run hot like venom, her lips pursed. “So to see him now so blatantly and arrogantly flaunting himself-” she cut herself off and slammed down a book onto the pile of clothing, both hands flat against the cover.

“I know,” Gregor said, his face grim. “I almost admire his audacity. He winked at me when we locked eyes. Can you believe that?” He was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “However, he’s apparently working to recover that Redguard woman’s brother from the Dwemer. You gave him a second chance at life. If that is true, it would seem that he is putting it to good use. It’s…” Gregor sighed and looked around the oasis, searching for words, fiddling with his trembling fingers. His scars ached. “It almost defies belief, truth be told. Do you believe any of it?”

“He conveniently finds a woman with a sob story to endear himself to the rest of us, yet can't resist… Can't resist doing things like that.” Gregor was right, she had given him a second chance but that was not sitting so well with her now that he was sitting somewhere nearby. “It makes me uncomfortable that he is here. It wounds me that it was Daro'Vasora and Latro who rolled out their red carpet.” Her jaw clenched and she grimaced at the thought, her hands relaxing back into her lap as she looked down at Gregor, her voice resonant and louder still, “I don't want him anywhere near me, and if he so much as looks at me I will remove one of his eyes for the trouble.”

“I shall be sure to tell him that,” Gregor grinned. “I’m going over to talk to him later. I hate unfinished business, and he knows things about me he wasn’t supposed to survive learning. Can’t have him running his mouth.”

Discussing the Khajiit had incensed her, she wanted to bite back at Gregor for suggesting that he would talk to Zaveed, but she reigned herself back from the edge, she took a long and deep breath. “Discuss what you must, if that is what it is then it's your business - don't even give him an ounce of the satisfaction he so craves by saying my name.” Her tone had been overly sharp and she knew it, “I'm sorry… I just want nothing to do with him Gregor. Finish the business and close that chapter.”

The venom in Raelynn’s voice made him blink. That said, he was relieved to hear it. A small part of him had been worried that Raelynn’s decision to save Zaveed’s life was motivated by… well, something other than what she’d told him. It was good to see her so decisively eliminate any notion of that. “Very well, I’ll leave you out of it,” he said, his voice soft to show that he had taken no offense. “If it were entirely up to me, I wouldn’t even exchange any words with him, I’d just cut him down where he stands. But that is not a choice for me to make anymore.” Gregor looked at Raelynn closely. He wanted to see how she reacted to that.

She felt an unusual swell of… sentiment? No, something else, inside of her that caught her off guard enough to bring a lump to her throat, seemingly from nowhere. “Nor is it mine…” she croaked, feeling tears form under her eyes. “Why does he get to be here? Why is he here and Alim is not? Why are we making ourselves at home around them? How could Daro'Vasora… Latro?” She sidled to Gregor and wrapped her arms around his neck, slightly surprised at her own display of emotions. She caught her breath again and attempted to steady herself. Perhaps this was the exhaustion of the day and the dust having settled on the excitement of it all. “I just don't want anything, or anyone to come between us anymore.” Her hand found the nape of his neck as it always did and she curled the shortest hairs that had fallen free from his topknot around her finger, breathing slowly. “This is just… Not what we were supposed to come back to,” she sobbed quietly against his neck.

How could they was a question that Gregor could answer. He was pragmatic enough that he understood the decision Daro’Vasora had made. Sevari, Zaveed and Sirine had valuable supplies with them and they were both after something inside the Dwemer desert prison. Their Khajiit leader had suppressed her own trauma to see the big picture. Gregor admired it, but with Raelynn sobbing against him he could not help but feel that it hadn’t been worth it. Either way, Gregor knew that the cold, hard facts weren’t what Raelynn needed to hear right now. He kissed her forehead and held her close while thinking of a way to say what he wanted to say more tactfully. “Hush, my love. It’s unfair, I know, and I hate it as much as you do. Daro’Vasora did not think about you when she made this decision. But she did not even think about herself. She’s doing what leaders do: thinking about the grand scheme of things. If they can help us break into the prison to retrieve the things we need to end this Dwemer invasion once and for all… that’s all she’s thinking about. It takes a lot of willpower to push everything else aside. Is it right? Not really,” Gregor said softly. “It’s wrong and it’s vile. But sometimes wrong and vile is necessary.”

He hooked a finger below her chin and forced Raelynn to look him in the eyes. “But the most important thing is that you don’t have to fear anything, or anyone, coming between us. Together, we can weather any storm. No matter the depths of depravity this war sends us to, I will be there for you and you will be there for me and that is enough.”

“You're right,” she whispered, nodding as she squashed the tears back down. “You're right,” she repeated again to reassure herself. She would of course share her thoughts with Daro'Vasora in the coming days, but there was more important things to be done before then. The tome of restoration from her father was more of a priority to her than anything else. “I don't know what came over me, I think I'm too tired - I barely slept last night. Maybe I should rest now.” Gregor's presence always allowed her a sense of relief and calm, and she held onto his stare for a moment longer before kissing the tip of his nose tenderly. “Don't leave me alone for too long though, I might miss you.” Her thumb traced from behind his ear and down his neck and she couldn't resist but kiss him one more time.

“Yes, rest,” Gregor said and returned her kisses with conviction. “I shall be back before you know it and then I’ll join you.” The two lovers gently extracted themselves from their embrace and Gregor got to his feet with a grunt, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. He was determined not to give Zaveed the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.

With long, purposeful strides, he set off.
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