Unexpected expectations [cw]

Description:  cw: failed sex 

Briar

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Black Widow Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    Askavi Territory Court First Circle Escort
    Askavi Terreille
    101 Posts    3588 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #15 on: February 28, 2020, 01:26:14 PM »
It reminded Briar of the throbbing in a milk tooth. Just before it fell out. He touched a bare section of stone wall to see if the sensation really resided there. Found only the same steady thrum that he felt in the air. No weaker, stronger, and clearer. The Keep was simply breathing. Aching. Was it healing? Would there be a day when the stain of Witch was washed away? When the rotten tooth of the past fell out to make way for a healthy one? He didn’t think there could be. Not for him, at least. When he saw the tower in the distance he felt the same malevolence as ever bearing down on him. And he was sure he always would.

Eremiar wordlessly agreed. The Red disappearing from his naked chest as he tested the pulse too. They didn’t need shared memories or spoken words to understand one another here. They had survived the Witch and knew, intimately, the flavor of the place. Could taste the change, and the unchanged. Together they trailed down the stairs to find the source of the former. Find what had been disturbed. His father’s unfounded amusement finding its match in a sympathetic smirk from Briar. ”You’re the one that wanted to come. I could be a doing a very different sort of coming right now if you’d just leave well enough alone.”

Whatever had happened seemed over. But Briar was starting to realize that nothing was ever really over when it came to Witch. Not until they were all dead and her memory nothing more than a cautionary tale. Until then, men like his father would rage and he would do whatever it was he was doing in the village. Rebuilding, or just building. Struggling to form a life. Thoughts about the one he had suffered in the very rooms they passed made him toss around for a new point of conversation. To distract them both, without avoiding the source of their unease.

”Of course,” A flit of quick wings and a glimpse of curls were all Briar needed to put the story together. ”of course it was her. On purpose, you think, or did she just find you by accident?” Wings drawn in tight to pass though a narrow archway Briar breathed in the dampening air as they reached the ground floor. He could still smell the pools of blood warriors left behind in the stonework. ”I assumed they would have killed you as soon as She was dead. Not that I could have done anything to help you anyway. I wasn’t any better off, my chains were just different.” He said, casting a glance over his shoulder to see Eremiar’s expression. A finger touched his temple and he sighed heavily. ”Until I met Rian, anyway.”

The key to all the locked doors in his mind and spirit. Eremiar couldn’t understand that feeling though, or he refused to. Briar didn’t know or nag. Fear was a strange thing, that didn’t always manifest itself as being afraid. And the solutions were rarely clear. His certainly had not been. So he let Eremiar be Eremiar and defended his Briarness as best as he could.

They went down to the heart of the pit that had created the monster in his father’s soul. Or at least, Briar assumed that was where the root had started to fester. He realized that he knew very little about Eremiar’s life before Witch. They didn’t really sit around talking about any of that. Briar could appreciate the present ness of their bond, though. He wanted to be who he was now without having to revisit what he had been all of the time. ”What is it?” He asked, stepping back up to join his father in front of a doorway.

Inside the quiet pulse of the Keep hummed a little louder. A probe shouted death and gore at him. But he had swept the building from top to bottom and found no life other than them. ”Open- well never mind.” The door gave in on itself before he could encourage Eremiar to see what was on the other side. Not much,  not much at all. Just an unholy rip in the very air, and what might have once been bodies painting the walls. ”Darkness be merciful there’s not a tooth or bone left.” He said in disgust, eyeing the room without going in.

”What the Hell were they doing? The walls were scorched as if something had erupted from inside. And a deep well of troubling energy was manifested in the center of the room. Briar was not engineer or architect to understand that important support pillars stood beside and above the room. He only saw the mess that was left behind. ”Don’t go in there. Something is off.” He warned, spinning up a strand of spider silk across the threshold. ”That’s above my ability, we need a priestess I think.” Maybe a whole coven of them. If the gap between realms could even be mended at this point.

Eremiar

    Sapphire to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Askavi Terreille
    32 Posts    3368 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #16 on: February 29, 2020, 10:04:44 AM »

Eremiar groaned, thumb and fingers making a circle around his throat. He swiped upward, as if chasing the sound out of his throat. Or the image from his mind, disgust radiating from his barriers. Warning pulsed beneath it. Trap. trap. It seemed in many ways his son was still young and foolish. Lessons unlearned still, despite the teachings of Witch's court.

But it was a trap many fell into. Men and women alike. Driven by base urges. To breed. To bond.

The farther down they went, the more Eremiar knew it was not possible. Just another way to twist. To torture. To bind. Eyes dark beneath his lashes, Ere glanced at his son. Peeking at the life he had made, wholly on accident. Were there more? He had not met any, and Briar had mentioned no siblings. Briar who was on to other questions now. Searching for light in a place made of shadow.

Eremiar shook his head, remembering the surprised lift of Ilithian's wings. Whatever she had expected to find, it had not been him. And her men had been unending in their stupidity to allow her to go looking for it alone. Dirty, broken nails scratched at the stumble beneath his chin. Eremiar shrugged, head shaking. He had never expected to be rescued. And had never thought that his lot would have been different, could have been different, because there had been a son above.

Strange, half grown son. Ere eyed his temple. He had never delved deep beyond Briar's barriers. Briar did not allow for it, and Eremiar did not press. The boy had other ways to tell him what he wanted Eremiar to know. And he did. Talking surprisingly a lot at times. Usually to complain at some new way his father had failed him or disrupted his life.

He did not trust Rian any further for having done a favor for his son. Could not trust a woman who smelled like a man.

It was trickery. Like the sense he got from the doorway. Room beyond not a room. A pit. Blood and shattered Jewels were familiar to him. How many had he broken on his spear? All his rage channeled into a body. Driven through webs. This was not the same. But familiar enough.

He did not listen, nodding agreement to the lack of anything not churned to a pulp. A wash of blood and viscous fluid that had once been men, possibly. Eremiar walked into it. Barriers pulsing in time with the humming of the room. It made his head ache. Temples throbbing and inner webs vibrating straight to the core. Carefully he stepped backward, over the strand of silk Briar had summoned across the doorway.

He'd always found it unnerving. The thing strands of silk that came from nowhere. Not cabinet, but other. He could feel a thickness clinging to the soles of his boots, and was glad he had worn them. Outside the doorway, the pressure in his skull eased. But he could still feel the center of the room like maelstrom, beckoning him inward. If he were to walk into it, where would it lead?

Briar

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Black Widow Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    Askavi Territory Court First Circle Escort
    Askavi Terreille
    101 Posts    3588 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #17 on: February 29, 2020, 09:40:01 PM »
”It’s not just sex. I’ve had a lifetime's worth of that same as every plaything that lived in this slice of Hell.” Many less fortunate than they were, which was rather disturbing to consider. ”That’s just a fun perk and an easy way to let off steam. Haven’t you ever wanted to be around people that accepted you, for no reason, without any expectations?” Briar’s eyes rolled violently upward at the seeping from his father’s barriers. That feeling of betrayal, anger, and the struggle to be free made it clear what he thought. Trap. A timeless expression of youthful discontent crossed his face. One he had never had reason to call on in the adolescent stage like most people. It unequivocally declared exasperation at another’s inability to see things from another perspective. Briar paired his eye roll with a throaty scoff and rolled his shoulder and the attached wing towards the other man too. It baffled him- that utter lack of understanding and rejection of companionship. Not even anything as dramatic as love, just passion, or even compassion, the desire to be around people or a specific someone that wanted to understand you. Since he wasn’t sure how to phrase his complaint he took a page from Eremiar’s book and projected the emotion. That nameless thing that was more than lust or affection or the primal need to form a pack. Acceptance.

Perhaps they had both found a measure of it in the queenling that drew them together. Briar split his attention between his father’s silent answers and the staircase. ”She has the dumbest luck. Go into a creepy dungeon, survive, and come out another man stronger. No wonder they just let her run the place.” There had been a lot of talk in the juvenile courts he had tried to hold together after Witch’s Fall. Talk of assisantion attempts and all of the reasons Ilithian would never make Askavi whole again. But there she was. Charging on despite all the reasons she shouldn’t even try. It made Briar almost wish she were his queen in a deeper sense of the word. He liked the freedom to say no too much to really feel any longing for a bond to brag over, though. ”I’m surprised she didn’t send someone sooner.” He said to round off that part of the conversation.

It turned from the place Ere had been locked away to the broader scope of Briar’s binds. His mistrust of Rian potent in the air before they no longer needed distractions. The source of all the chaos found in the simple doorway. While Briar’s senses rebelled against the scene Eremiar was drawn inward. Son’s heart beating faster with each footfall. Not evil, not even ambivalence. Just a deep pressure on his psyche that warned of danger. He wanted to ward off entry. To contain the thrumming crack in the universe until more masterful minds could find a solution. When Eremiar came back as beckoned he spun a few more threads. Silk called in from a secret place between time and space. It was not the glossy strands that he used in divination. These were thicker and held a potent psychic scent that he used as markers. His probes slicked against Eremiar’s open barriers and balked. ”No, it’s too dangerous to go in.” He really was a madman.

There was something eerily similar between the man and the silent storm churning in their faces, though. It must have agreed. Because without a sound it pulsed wider, swallowing them up whole. Briar tried to resist, boots skidding on the floor as he was pulled to the center. The pressure bore down on him a thousand fold until his eyes felt ready to pop from their sockets. The thought reminded him of the layers that caked the wall. Was this it? Had he lied to Rian and left her behind for good this time? He gave in to the yanking, and instead of death found a strange and terrifying nothingness waited for him in the void.

Images flashed in his head. Or maybe in front of him. People he had never met or seen moving through the Keep. Queens with flowing hair and night-dark Jewels on their hands or throats. Some were not even human. Men marched through in service. Wars glimpsed from tower windows. A thousand years of life told in what felt like a half second. He reached around the blackness but felt nothing. The room was gone. The floor. The sky. He felt his body from face to hip. Everything was there. Even his balls, which he clasped in both hands protectively as a familiar Witch’s face rose into his mind’s eye. ”Eremiar?” His scream bounced back at him like an echo. The face was just a memory, though, and it too faded before the sound of his father’s name had. He saw him too, covered in hair and chained to the wall. Then a small cohort of men. Their power collecting into a ball that was aimed somewhere he could not see. It blistered in on itself instead of out. Briar nodded, ”That’s how it happened.” They had tried to destroy it and did something much worse instead. Abruptly the visions wavered as if viewed through water. He stepped forward and found whatever had been holding him up gave way.

Spit out onto the ground Briar fell into a crouch. Midday sunshine poured down on him, and so did ice cold water. Spluttering he walked forward from out of a waterfall that tumbled down over a dip in a rock formation. Boots squelching in shallow mud he stumbled to a low embankment and sat down to flick water from his face, wings shaking droplets off in a few great flaps. Eremiar was there too. Wherever there was. Outside, in a place that didn’t feel familiar. He stretched a probe around them in a circle, chasing a rabbit from a bush. And a girl from a tree branch. With a light thump she landed on her feet, rising up to her full height in a tangle of brambles and red hair. ”Where are we?” He asked, sweeping her with probes.

”Lady.” He tacked on a moment late, sensing her caste. She didn’t answer. Or even really look at Briar. Walking heel to toe she paced a slow half circle around Eremiar instead. Face tipped up to stare rather rudely. The last time Briar had been with a woman in the woods his father had attacked, so he stood on edge now. Shoulders tense and wings held high. ”Are you alone?” She didn’t answer that either. Nose wrinkling up as if they smelled badly she flashed teeth at him. Annoyance radiated into the air, silencing him while she paced the same crescent back in the opposite direction. ”What the fuck is happening…” He should have stayed in bed.

Eremiar

    Sapphire to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Askavi Terreille
    32 Posts    3368 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #18 on: March 01, 2020, 07:23:43 AM »

Eremiar shook his head. Acceptance. He was exactly what he was expected to be. Cocky his head to the side, he ignored the youthful disdain of his son. Eremiar was well accepted. Being nothing more than what he was made it easy. He met every expectation and did not shy from what he was. He was the monster from the dungeon. Except now he was free to roam where he pleased.

Just as Briar was the fool who had run head long to Witch's breast rather than away from it.

Grunting, Eremiar laughed. A silent ripple that fanned his wings against the dust free floor. He had his doubts that anyone just let Ilithian do anything. She did as she pleased, and simply ignored those who tried to stop her. Ere found the queenling amusing. And settling. And unsettling when she got that look in her eye and sidled up to him. Like she meant to keep him for eternity in the airy prison of her eyrie.

Somehow their conversation lead back to Rian. Eremiar made a mental note to take Briar's suggestion and send ahead before showing up again. Hearing about the witch was bothersome. Obviously his son had an itch that needed scratching without interruption. And if he would not heed Eremiar's warnings, there was no forcing him.

The boy had a knack for falling into trouble.

Perhaps inherited from the man who walked into flesh slick rooms and opened his barriers to strange rents in reality. Eremiar's barriers were always open. A tremor of violence that preceded him. It did not matter that he listened, stepping over Briar's silken barrier so as not to break it. The thing was listening too. Seen but not seen, it seemed to turn in on itself, like a twisting knot of... air? Eremiar did not know.

It was still a pressure at the back of his skull. Less crushing than inside the room itself. Not painful. Just heavy. He glanced sidelong at Briar and shrugged. And then was dragged back across the threshold and within the churning tangle.

Instinctively, Ere opened his wings. Membranes reaching for drafts or currents that did not appear. It was not air he had been sucked into, but nothingness. He inhaled. Chest expanding as he drew in a deep breath. He did not choke. But it also did not feel quite like breathing.

Around him was color. It pulsed as the Keep had pulsed. Bulging toward him and then away. Hues shifting and bleeding into one another. It was blinding, so he closed his eyes. But the colors remained. Changing with emotion. Like voices echoing in his head. Voices he did not know giving way to some he imagined he might.

He thought, at some point, he heard Briar screaming. He even reached through the colors in search of him. Imagined his hands closing on a wing joint. But that moment passed in Witch's laughter. The sound of her Steward's voice like a buzz in the background. Service replaced by rebellion. Hate threaded through craft work until it spun in on itself. Turning into a tied that washed everything away, and then dragged it all back in again.

The world halted. Or Eremiar halted. The light beyond his eyelids lacked color and his stomach rolled so hard in his gut he thought he might vomit. Opening his eyes, he squinted. Daylight. Outside daylight. Head tilting he glimpsed the sun through the trees. Water was slowly seeping into his boots, making his socks damp. Eremiar looked down. He was standing in a stream. To his right, Briar shook water free of his wings. It splattered across Eremiar's body and face, making him flinch.

Beyond them, something moved. Eremiar did not. Sure that if he did he would be forced to double over and empty the breakfast Ilithian had forced to him to eat that morning. His eyes tracked the movement. Probes following Briar's. Rabit. Witch. Queen.

Of some sort. Eremiar eyed her through his lashes. Back straight, body stiff. Wings lifted so they did not drag the creek bed. She was wearing furs, half cured and uncut, strung to her body with rope, or vines. Ere couldn't tell the difference. There was tree bits in her hair, which was red. Briar was fretting. Eremiar did not answer his questions.

He did not think they were for him anyway, but instead for the strange creature pacing her way around him. Circling from hip to hip as if sizing him up to eat. Eremiar wished she would go back up into her tree and forget she'd ever seen them. But of course, she did not. Casting annoyance and teeth at Briar until he quit pelting her with questions. She turned neatly on her toes and marched backward along her path.

Eremiar could feel her seeping in around his barriers. Lips grim, he returned the favor, eyes following her while he remained still. Queen indeed. Dirty and wild, but a queen. No wings so she was not Eyrien, especially with that hair. Eremiar swept a broad probe outward, curious if they were outside of Askavi. But he could not tell.

Too distracted by her pacing. His eyebrows swooped downward and his wings shot out menacingly. Water arching away from their tips. He fought off more nausea. It wasn't the movement that off set his stomach this time, but the coil around his psyche like a snare. Trap. This one was worse than the trap set by a witches honeypot. It wasn't the draw of sex.

No it was much worse than that.

Eremiar bared his teeth in silent defiance.

Little

    Purple Dusk to Sapphire
  • Queen
  • Played By: Jones

    feral femme fatale
    Askavi Terreille
    4 Posts    2725 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #19 on: March 01, 2020, 01:30:06 PM »
Calf deep in the cool stream Little stood on the balls of her bare feet. Toes splayed to grip the smooth stones below while she waited. Poised to bring down the sharpened staff she held in two hands. Her strike was fast, a twitch of elbow and shoulder that hardly disturbed the surface of the water as it  drew the point into the water to pierce a fat trout. It wiggled on the end of her rough spear, scales glistening brightly and mouth opening. She touched it with a probe, looking for pain or any emotion at all but finding none. The fish were always just fish, but they always looked so pathetic that she couldn’t help worrying that they suffered for her hunger.

With another flick of her lean arms the fish was tossed to the grassy banks were several more awaited the cook fire. Two would be plenty for a single meal but she was leaving this part of the forest soon. Uncertainty of the hunting in the open grasslands she would cross made her decide to prepare. Glance coming back to the water she prepared to wait again. In a few minutes the fish would forget that one of them had been plucked from the sky. Her pale toes would be pebbles to them again, and they would swim close enough for another catch.

Except they did not this time. Their predictable behavior disturbed by something further up stream. Schooled together they went deeper into the stream’s center. Little turned her face to the waterfall a few yards away. It hummed silently at her and began to part like a curtain. Surprised she vanished her spear and scrambled up the nearest tree. A stout elm that held her weight easily on the lowest branches. Perched against the tree trunk she watched as men spilled out from nowhere. Confused at first they blinked up at the sun, and Little used their distraction to lick them with long, quiet probes. They had a rich caste she had not encountered before. Not in person. The scent of Warlord Prince marked places near her cave, and others had described them to her in conversation. These men did not make her want to run away, though. She did not feel the submission or fear her friends had spoken of. Perhaps it was their disorientation, or their sudden and unnatural appearance. She only felt curious.

About the tall one especially. Even from the tree she could pick his scent out from the other’s, which was nearly lost to the water and soil. Eyes wide she took in their wings and broad shoulders. Debated the sensibility in hiding or stepping out. They made her choice for her though, sweeping probes in a circle. Discovered she dropped from her hiding place onto the heels of her feet. One hand whispering over the grass before she stood up again. The thin fur she wore as a stole over her breasts rode up, and she straightened the stolen twine that wrapped around her ribs to keep it in place. She came closer, to the edge of the water where she could see them better. Out of reach of their hands but not their matching Jewels. Just darker than her own in the well of her Webs. It didn’t matter, though, she had been too close to outrun them from the start. And they weren’t trying to hurt her, unless babbling at her would hurt.

Ignoring his sounds she traced the silent one. Feet carrying her around to see him from the sides too. Yes. He was quite curious. Steps light she tried to measure him with her eyes. Distraction babbling at her again from the other prince. *I don’t understand you!* She shouted into the emptiness. Thread tossed out with no direction in mind. The snarl of her lip seemed enough to get the point across, since his next words were not spoken at her but into the air. She was busy, and she would get to him when she was ready. The silent one was first. Why he was more important dawned in her chest slowly.

It came after she had finished her pacing. Hands on her hips she looked at him grimly. Lips drawn tight and tucked to one side. Fingers curled into the furs bound to her hips. Thigh and leg peeking through them as she bent a knee and tested his barriers. What was she going to do with a person? They were not independent like wild cats or wolves who could welcome a bond then go about their lives. When she visited people in their weird home places they never wanted to let her leave, and those people had not even been hers. What would this one try to do? Red eyebrow bowing in question she shrugged at him. He did not like it. The pull of fate that was trying to stitch their castes together. Wings thrown out in warning he scowled at her with blunt teeth.

Little shrugged at him again. Unapologetic she showed him her teeth back. Not a smile or a snarl. Lip spread thin and flat she told him that she could bite too. Then reached with a psychic thread to try speaking with them both. *I speak no Blood languages. If you wish to talk, this is how.* She tried her prince again. A step closer, skin tight with warning. Thread narrowed to be more private. *Why are you so angry, prince? Do I offend you? Shall we fight?* That was a thing people had in common with creatures. They could be offended by words or touches. Little had learned in the days since she left her forest that the rules that guided those offenses were not the same. She was very good at upsetting people. She was also good at wrestling them to the ground and pinning them to the dirt until they forgave her or left her alone. Thread splitting to reach them both again she tossed her chin towards the waterfall. *You fell out of the air. What sort of trick did you use?*

Eremiar

    Sapphire to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Askavi Terreille
    32 Posts    3368 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #20 on: March 01, 2020, 06:47:53 PM »

She tried him. Stalking. Staring. Taking his measure. Ere took hers back. But he did not move except for his eyes and a twitch of skin. A tightening around the eyes. The crease at the corners of his mouth deepening as he almost frowned. She looked just as determined as he. Lips a hard pucker at one corner that promised stubbornness.

She never spoke. Just judged. Tossing a Thread in Briar's general direction. Snarling and baring teeth at Eremiar. They flashed white and made a neat line in response to his spreading wings. Barriers trying to link with his as she cast yet another Thread outward. Ready to talk this way, though she made little sense. She reminded Ere of Ilithian's little bats. They wore Jewels and spoke over Threads but the meaning was always one step sideways.

Shoulders dancing at him as she edged a little closer. Eremiar stood taller, wings pulling taut until the breeze whistled along their scarred edges. He set a ring on the ground. A radius as wide as his wings. Craft serpentining through the grass to keep her from coming any closer. She was close enough. So close he could snatch her up by a delicate wrist if he wished. Do anything he wanted the way she tried to sync psyche to psyche and work her wiles on him.

This was not the service he was meant for.

Eremiar exhaled. Lips vibrating against each other. His eyebrows scowled over rolling eyes. He was not offended! And the flex of muscle across his chest and down his belly and arms promised she would lose the fight if there was one. The fine dark hairs that gilded his body all stood in answer to the challenge.

Briar shifted behind him and Eremiar settled a ring of warning around him too. His arms settled across his chest, chin turning toward the waterfall as he tried to peer behind her barriers. The memory of the fall that was not a fall rising to the surface of his mind. Eremiar shrugged, and looked over his falling shoulder to his son.

Disgruntled, he swept his hair back. Shorter now but no less knotted than when he'd been frees. It tangled naturally, snagging on the callouses of his hand. What was he supposed to do with this? A small, pale girl. No wings to keep her aloft. Heritage surely nothing like his own. He had never seen hair that color that he could remember. Not in freedom.

Tired of the slow soaking of his boots. Eremiar stepped out of the creek. Pushing at her with a wall of craft. Forcing her outside the ring of his defiance. The space he would not share with her physically whatever Threads she might throw his way. Barriers still trying to meld with his. Searching for an answer he did not have. Eremiar was anger. He was Warlord Prince. Eyrien Warrior.

He did not know how to be not angry.

Briar

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Black Widow Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    Askavi Territory Court First Circle Escort
    Askavi Terreille
    101 Posts    3588 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #21 on: March 02, 2020, 09:56:09 AM »
No one tried to clear up Briar’s confusion. The wild queen was too busy doing her strange dance with Eremiar, who was too busy refusing to play. He felt the tickle of her distaff thread too late to catch what crossed down it. But he listened to the one she imparted for Eremiar. Open barriers making it easy to syphon out the one sided conversation. If his father minded, he would shut him out, Briar reasoned. Besides, all the posturing made him tense. He wanted answers.

And the queen must have wanted death. Skin prickling Briar huffed at her, his wings spreading like black shields. Unsure of who in the trio he should even be protecting. The ridiculous girl that edged closer in open interest, bristling Eremiar, or his own still very confused self. She stood tall, and Eremiar stood taller. Neither cowing down. Along the not-quite-private link he heard her challenge and snorted. It made Eremiar posture more. Muscles like pulled cords drawing tight to show their strength. The girl was strong too, in a lean, feral way that made Briar uncomfortable. He had an aching sort of desire to dunk her in the stream until she- and her dirty furs- were clean then feed her pastries until the sharpness of her cheekbones receded.

She would be hissy though. He could just tell. Not that queens weren’t just hissy in general. No one ended up fighting. Not yet, at least. Toes pointed she slipped nearer. Close, close, closer, until a ring of Craft sprouted up to warn her off. Briar had just started to wonder if she was some sort of mute, like his father, but the ring made her laugh. Thin brows drawn together she took a half step back. Weight resting on that leg. Her eyes swung his way and Briar realized there was a ring for him too. ”There was no trick.” He offered up, winning a narrow eyed glance from the queen. Her lips pouted at him, and he thought it was time to go home to Rian. A flick of the threadwork she spun between them all reminded him, no Blood languages. Whatever that was supposed to mean. *There was no trick. We were brought here by an accident of forgotten Craft.*

That wasn’t the answer she was looking for, though. With a small shrug of disappointment she turned her attention back to Eremiar. An odd twinge of jealousy made Briar’s skin tighten and wings spread wider. Beyond the scope of Eremiar’s circles. It was silly, he knew in his heart. He didn’t want her attention, but he wasn’t used to being second fiddle either. Especially not under circumstances such as these. He crossed his arms over his chest and did his own round of measuring. She was an unkempt creature with scabs on her knees and bruises on her shins. Spindly fingers on dainty wrists that contrasted with strong legs and wrap of muscle on her upper arms. *What languages do you speak then, lady? What land is this?*

His questions were ignored while she tried to willfully stand against Eremiar’s forward press. Heels leaving little rents in the damp soil as she was pushed back. Instead of giving him the victory she danced away towards Briar, a fingertip skimming up the very tip of his wing that peeked through the invisible wall. He twitched it up out of her reach at the warm touch, and raised an eyebrow at her daring. She offered him a cheeky grin then finally answered, *I have better uses for my tongue than tripping over words that hold no meaning to me. So I have no name for this land. It is just home. There are many people like you here, though. Tall men with big wings.”*

”Askavi, then. Or one of the them at least.” He said out loud. *Are you out here alone?* She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. A pointed finger sweeping from father to son. *I don’t mean us. I mean your people. Your court, or at least your escort. Where are they.* She laughed again. A pitchy, birdlike call. Briar followed on to the shoreline, nearly stepping on a cluster of fish as he went. Their protective walls pushed the queen girl towards the tall elm she had been hiding in. This time she just leaned against the bark, eyes drifting back to Eremiar. *I was alone today. My companions come and go at their leisure.* Pushing free from the tree she wrapped her arms around her stomach and tilted her head at Ere, the smirk on her face gently amused. *I doubt it will be any different with you. Does that appease any of your worries, angry prince?*

Eyes going wide in understanding Briar looked between them. Head pivoting as he finally made sense of her interest and Ere’s open discomfort. There was a flash of pity in his chest, and relief that it was anyone but himself. Both emotions quickly replaced by one stronger- amusement. His eyes closed slowly and he cupped his mouth with a balled fist to keep from laughing in their faces. ”I’m going to look for a landmark. Or a village. You have fun with that, Ere.” He couldn’t help his father with this anyway. There was no cure for fate.

Little

    Purple Dusk to Sapphire
  • Queen
  • Played By: Jones

    feral femme fatale
    Askavi Terreille
    4 Posts    2725 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #22 on: March 03, 2020, 03:14:12 PM »
A circle of Craft enveloped the warlord prince. ‘Get away from me’ it suggested rudely. It reminded Little of the way skunks pounded their back feet and flagged their tails when threatened. So she tried to sort out why he felt threatened at all. And even offered him a chance to win back his confidence fairly.

Neither of the men took her seriously. Little knew her own strength. She had spent years outmaneuvering hunters of every species and wrestling bears five times her own size. Face tipped in question she grinned to herself at their doubt, even if the younger princes’ nasally amusement had her casting a sideways glare at him. An anxious skin-painted eavesdropper and a too-tall wall of living anger. They were an odd pair. She wondered, at first, if they were thrown together at random but could see now that they travelled together by choice. Familiar enough with one another that the silent warlord prince permitted the younger to listen in behind his loose barriers. The challenge itself was mostly ignored although he did draw his body tight in preparation to defend himself. She shook her hair from her face and watched him roll his eyes. What a curious, curious man. He did not speak to her, or to the other. Not in the way she expected. She didn’t need words to understand him. He clearly thought he would best her in a match. Which he would, eventually, but it wasn’t about the fight at all. Sometimes you had to lose to win. A physical fight would put them in balance. Establish the scale of dominance and submission that nature required; she was prepared to be bruised for that.

There was no fight, sadly. Only another wall of protective possession was thrown in her face. They were very close then, and belonged to one another in some way. Awkwardness sat on them until she asked about their arrival. The silent one stayed silent, but did the most curious thing yet to answer. A probe reached roughly at her barriers. He was curious about her too. Little offered him the first few layers of emotion and thought then strengthened the rest against intrusion. They were strangers, after all, one a black widow and the other unhappy with the fledgling bond setting between them. Her mind filled up with a picture she didn’t quite understand. It was more enlightening than the garble the dual caste prince spoke at her, both from his mouth and over their thread.

More questions passed between them. But she didn’t have answers they would find satisfying either. There were more interesting things going on anyway. Like the hard push of his Craft wall. She did her best to resist as it threatened to shove her out of his way. Reassurance that he was in charge of himself she was willing to give. All wild and free things deserved autonomy. This was just bullying, though. Feet pressed into the dirt she contemplated raising her own Craft against his. Fearing a different sort of fight she instead met his strange rebellion by withdrawing. The younger male postured and pouted for attention like the runt of a numerous litter. Tossing the big one out of her barriers she sealed them tight and cut the thread between them. Skipping over to touch the sleek skin covered bone of a wing joint and indulging his questions as best as she could manage.

When he tucked away from her too she lounged against a tall, fragrant elm. It’s bark earthy and warm. There she explained the way she lived, and that she was unwilling to change it. Her question for the angry prince left hanging in the air. She was involved now. Chosen by the Darkness to serve this difficult male, and she had never shied from the few duties her life had put in her path. *I have fish to clean before they spoil.* She said as the younger man threw far reaching probes into the air and began walking in the direction of a small temple Little had visited at sunrise. No one there had recognized the bones but they had suggestions of where to ask next. *There was a dog with me some years ago that had scars like yours,* She told him with a glance at his throat as she settled in the grass with her catches and a sharp stone. *he had ripped out the throat of the man that called himself his master and then sat alone starving until he was skinny enough to slip his collar. The fur never did grow back…*

Eremiar

    Sapphire to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Askavi Terreille
    32 Posts    3368 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #23 on: March 07, 2020, 07:36:30 AM »

Stubborn and foolish she fought against his craft. Leaning into it until the damp earth bubbled up between her toes as she was pushed back. Eremiar sighed, a hollow sound of resignation that seemed to rise up out of his bones. Briar seemed amused in Ere's shadow until he found his own wall of craft keeping them all from each other.

Worried before. Ere had been able to taste it. The tension making the air crackle. Briar had a proper respect for queens, despite his upbringing. Or because. Eremiar did not understand the how or the why. Just that in this they were as matched as their Jewels. Queens were for protecting, not owning. Briar simply failed to understand that protecting did not always require softness.

If ever.

They made for a strange trio. A conversation that Eremiar understood all parts of, but suspected the queen did not. Her head moved birdlike and thoughtful. Quick, annoyed glances cast at Briar and conniving ones at himself. Saturating himself in the first layers of her barriers, Eremiar tried to learn while sharing the answer answer to her question. He had no way of expressing the thing they had fallen into. It had been like stepping into an inside out version of himself. Except he had been sucked in and spat out again.

When she was done testing the strength of his shield, the queen cast him from her barriers with ease. Shutting him out as if he had pried too deep. Her attention was now for Briar. Dancing around Eremiar's craft, she found the one place she could reach. A wing tip that had been left foolishly exposed. Teeth flashing, Eremiar chased her fingers with craft. Strengthening the shield around Briar as he yanked his wing away, startled.

Ere gave him a little shove. He was too weak willed to be playing with queens. Especially wild ones with too little clothing. And even if he retreated, looking wounded and surprised at the touch, Eremiar did nor trust him. Or himself. There was a greediness in his heart that did not want to share these two with each other.

Briar did not want to share either. Knuckling amusement back, he decided his time was better spent elsewhere. Annoyed with him, Eremiar chased Briar from his barriers, though he did not close them. Let the boy laugh at the girl's proposition. Freedom to go as he pleased. Which meant she expected him to come to her in the first place. Like her other companions. Who were they, he wondered?

Dropping the shields now that the girl seemed willing to keep her distance, Eremiar watched Briar leave rather than her lounge. She blended against the tree, as wild and comfortable as its branches above her head.

Wings folding, Eremiar kept his arms folded defensively across his chest. It was a position of weakness in a fight. Better to have them near your hips where they were free to react to attack. But he wanted her to know he was still guarded against her, even if he had laid down his craft. Shrugging, he opened a palm at his elbow dismissively.

What cared he about her fish?

He saw no fish anyway. Just a girl with her eyes on him. Eremiar caught her at it from the corner of his eye. Face still turned toward Briar's back. Snorting he ran a thumb across the ridge on one bicep. He had many such shackle marks. They made others uneasy, and the healers often fretted after them, but Eremiar did not care. They were as much a testament as he was to the horrors of Witch and his survival, which he equated to Askavi's survival.

Watching her now, he came closer, eyes over her bare back as she cut open fish bellies with a stone. He stared for a moment at her shoulder blades. Only one truly visible through her tangled hair. Bare as bare. And her skin was pale and pinkish beneath the dirt and sunburn. She was no Eyrien at all. Which meant she would die soon.

Calling in a small hooked blade, he stepped nearer her side and held it out. It was not pretty, the wooden handle was black with age, and there was rust where blade and handle met, but it was sharp and clean. He had used it many times in the camps to cut the entrails from his dinner. Most recently in the raider camp that Ilithian always got so worked up about when he visited. But he liked the rough manner of the men. And the killing. It reminded him of his youth, before he'd worn Witch's collar like a dog.

Little

    Purple Dusk to Sapphire
  • Queen
  • Played By: Jones

    feral femme fatale
    Askavi Terreille
    4 Posts    2725 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #24 on: March 07, 2020, 09:02:00 PM »
Barriers slowly lowering Little invited the warlord prince back in once they were alone. Subtle probes of her own exploring what was available of his psyche. She studied the rest of him too; short glances that she did not try to hide but did not flaunt either. There was much to learn just by looking at someone and she wouldn’t pretend otherwise. His body was strong despite his scars. Movements sleek and practiced. Only his wings seemed to drag, their tips rough from contact. He had honed himself into a tool, then gone a step above mastering its use. He demanded that he be his own master. A desire explained by the marks of slaverly he still wore. Metaphorically  he had drawn a line in the dirt to declare he would not give an inch of himself that he did not decide to give. And until then every inch of him was guarded, except for those gaping barriers.

Little was always unsure with the Blood. They rarely saw eye to eye or understood the world the way that she did. She couldn’t even begin to guess how to connect with this looming giant. Time, she thought, would clarify things. In the meantime fish waited to be preserved. He was uninterested in the task, fingers splayed to express as much. The wall he had blocked her out with fell away, at last. Giving her the room to move more freely. It was tempting to rush him and pull his nose. See if that would make him make noise. He was testing her for just such nonsense, though, and Little wouldn’t let him down. The boundary he had put up respected once it was gone.

Skirting him she prepared to work. Squatting over her small collection of fish she mentioned the scars he wore. That way he would know she recognized not just his distrust, but its source. *You’re very quiet, prince.* Back to his angry frame she started the tedious work of scraping scales from the fish. Most of her companions would eat them happily just as they were. For years Little had done the same. Knowledge of cooked meat saving her bellyaches, though it had not been learned until early in her adolescence. Now she prefered them scaled, gutted, and blackened over hot rocks.

His gaze was intense. Turning up all the tiny hairs at the back of her neck. A few steps closing some of the space between them as she turned the first fish over to clear away the other side. *Do you ever speak?* She asked, catching a glimpse of her own back in his mind’s eye when her probe focused on his psyche. She tossed a look up at him, to judge his expression. There was no lust in his eyes. Disappointment, perhaps, or general dissatisfaction. Little wasn’t sure. *Not the queen you would have chosen for yourself? The feeling is mutual. I’ve spent very little time with the Blood and have no use for a man.* She had only ever used the one, after all, and it had ended very badly for him.

Another glance up, and up, and up until her neck was at an odd angle. He had come closer. Hand twice the size of her own combined holding something out to her. A knife. She had seen one on the hunter- Skylar- that he used to open the bellies of his kills. It had not been on the body. *Thank you.* She was careful not to touch him in the taking. Blade skimming her palm before she turned it right side around. The hook on the end ominous and the edge fine. She did not hold it skillfully, unused to the feel of a handle. In her day to day she wielded Craft and spear. Tools of stone were easier to create than metal ones were to obtain. With a few practice flicks she found the angle to best separate skin from meat.

*How are you called? Mine call me Little, even though I can get big now.* The scaling went faster with the blade. She opened the fish one by one to be rid of their insides. All the entrails carefully collected into an aged satchel where she wrapped them in a bit of basic preservation Craft. Later they would make good bait for traps, or another bit of fishing. *Hungry?* She stood up slowly in case he had changed his mind about letting his wards down. Passing him by she held her grisly hands out in front of her and rubbed her face against her forearm to get hair unstuck from her cheek. In the stream she rinsed clean and picked seven large, flat stones from the streambed. Feet wet she left footprints in the grass as she went back to work. Stones laid together and heated with Craft to cook her fish over. Turning them with a stick she explained, *I’m going South next. There’s a village I need to visit. But it’s a long walk and I don't know what the hunting will be like outside of the forest. I’ve never been.* 

Eremiar

    Sapphire to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Askavi Terreille
    32 Posts    3368 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #25 on: March 10, 2020, 05:12:55 AM »

With her back to him, she could mot see the shake of a head or the shrug of his shoulders, so Eremiar simply did not answer. Body still, but alert, as he watched her. There was no answer to give but the openness of his barriers. A quiet pool of emotions beneath a shell of anger. The anger never left, but sometimes other things bubbled to the surface. Amusement. Frustration. The deep quiet after a good meal.

Today it was like a choppy sea. Tumult and confusion. Strange craft and stranger queens who sang silent siren songs to him without even wanting to. They were at an impasse of interest without want. He sensed none of the greedy snatching from her that he so often felt from Ilithian. And she proclaimed no interest in his maleness.

Though that was a sweet lie he'd heard before. Eremiar sneered. He had no interest in sharing such things with her. Lust carved out of him as surely as his voice. It had not stirred of its own violation in centuries.

Now empty palm spread in welcome, Eremiar watched. Yet another unskilled fledgling. The way she held a blade reminded him of Briar. Eyes sweeping her bare back again, Ere wondered if she could fly better than his son. A smirk pulled at his lips. Much as he did with the other, Eremiar opened the reservoir of knowledge in his mind. Like the cubicles he had seen inside libraries. Everything had a place to be taken from.

Like the cleaning of fish. Or the memories of his name. Not the dark things of red lips whispering in the dark. But the jostle of howling youths playing violent games that would prepare them for the future. The name he had never called himself, but it was what had been given to him. Who he was without being him at all. Eyebrow lifting, he tried puzzling over her words.

She still seemed relatively little. But no longer a child, he thought.

With a terse nod, he turned so that his eyes might follow her. Hands stinking of fish and body smelling faintly of sweat, she passed by him without touching. Cleaning herself in the stream and selecting rocks from the bed. Cautiously, Eremiar sat. Long legs folding him to the ground. Wings left to sprawl out behind him. She set her fish out on the stones and heated them with craft while he watched.

South. He did not know what lay south. Could not when he didn't know where they were. Eyes on Little and her stick, Ere chased Briar with a thread to see if he had found anything, nothing, or worse, trouble. Arm slung over an upright knee, Ere circled question around her feet. Mirroring her disdain for Blood. Eyebrow raising at the idea there was a village she needed to see.

Little

    Purple Dusk to Sapphire
  • Queen
  • Played By: Jones

    feral femme fatale
    Askavi Terreille
    4 Posts    2725 marks
Re: Unexpected expectations [cw]
« Reply #26 on: March 31, 2020, 03:35:33 PM »
Judgement radiated from the silent warlord prince. Unsounded yet  weighty as it settled on the space between her shoulder blades. A sidelong glance telling her just what she needed to know about his opinion of her- and an oceof doubts . He stood at ease but guarded. A lift of his lip for her lack of interest. Eyes slipping back to her spine one more time. As always, she was other. Not the same as the beasts drawn to the potency of her caste. Unwilling and unable to trust they were bonded in spite of themselves. In turn, Little found the itch to quietly mend what made them stand out from their own kind pulling at her spirit no matter how hard she tried to lead a quiet life. A queen of misfits.

Ignoring them usually did the trick in getting them closer. It worked well enough on this one too. His inclination to judge her brought him near enough to supervise her work. A borrowed tool solidifying his right to stand over her watchfully. Little did not sit still or quiet. Hands busy with their task and mind full of conversation. The most unusual sort of conversation she had shared to date. Wordless, the winged warlord prince opened the well of his memories rather than his mouth. Offering first the feel of an experienced hand on a knife. Then the time-softened memory of a youth calling out a name that held a possessive note in his chest. *Eremiar. The Blood make strange names.* She told him with a hum of amusement. In the wilds names held some meaning to the bearer. They described or defined or honored.

Dipping into the stores of knowledge he shared Little turned her hand more quickly with the blade. Scales shaved away and innards spilled until fish turned into fillets. Offer accepted she went into the water to gather stones. Cleaned hands slippery on their smooth faces. Eremiar made himself comfortable on the ground. Limbs so long they would be awkward if not attached to a warrior’s body. Grizzled wings with pits and valleys that glimmered in the sunshine. Nesting her stones together she bathed them in Craft until the fish sizzled when she laid them on top. A spring of green, flavorful herbs stuck under them so that the taste would cook into the pink flesh. She didn’t stare, but she did wonder more about who Eremiar was.

His mind had turned, the flit of passing probes reaching towards the other man. Little wondered about him too, but only in how he fit together with Eremiar. She didn’t mind complicated, but the simpler a puzzle was the easier it was to complete. And sometimes that was all a bonded companion needed before being set free. *What is that one called?* She asked. Thread unknowingly reaching across the deeper spear to spear connection of two Reds.

Briar had walked only far enough to be out sight of his father- and the odd queen. He was not a strong flier, but the rest of him was made of muscle. Strong sinew that could pull him up into the bows of a high tree. There was little to see in any direction other than more treetops. In the distance he spied a wooden roof half hidden by the trunks of trees. Wings spreading to catch the breeze he glided over, faster than on foot but not as quickly as other Eyriens could fly. Inside he found a young priestess who was surprised to find her boredom alleviated yet again. She had just finished speaking when the tip of a Red probe laced around his ankle.
We didn’t go very far. We’re in Ancravi province about two hundred miles south of the Blood Run.[/br]

Everyone knew the ancient landmark of the canyon Eyriens tested their mettle against. Even men like Briar who had never done more than looked over the edges.
Can we go home now? I have things to finish.[/br] He asked bitterly as he took the stairs out of the young priestess’s temple two at a time. He didn’t go back directly back, loitering a mile away in hopes that they could part company for the day. He didn’t want to get involved with whatever his father had going on. And he really did have better things to be doing. Like curling up in bed with Rian. Probes stretching he wondered if he could reach her with a thread from so far away. If they both started walking now they could meet at the inn and spend the night there.
 

Welcome to Witchlight

We are an AU Black Jewels RPG that is continuously expanding the world lore to truly make it our own. Come join us and play in our sandbox!

Open for over a year, we have 9 unique races, from birds to wolf-shifters. Feel free to drop into our Discord, lurk our wanted ads, and see if Witchlight is the fantasy site you should always have been looking for.

We have an RPG Rating of:

Timeline

SUMMER - AW103

The seasons will change on 4/19.

Recent Topics

And baby makes... Four? by Catriona Blackthorn
[Yesterday at 09:47:05 PM]


The warlords and the jeweless boy [cw] by Nyree
[Yesterday at 11:14:35 AM]


Unexpected expectations [cw] by Little
[March 31, 2020, 03:35:33 PM]


Rose, Marcus by The Darkness
[March 30, 2020, 09:49:58 PM]


Oh, its you by Lillian
[March 30, 2020, 07:40:40 AM]

Chat

Guest Friendly Discord
login & choose a name, no registration required!

Wanted Spotlight

The Fellowship
Companions | Open Jewels | Kaeleer
Plaguebearers

Rumor Mill

Credits

Witchlight is loosely based upon the Black Jewels Series by Anne Bishop though it has been adapted and expanded by our members. All lore, characters, and writing belongs to the members. Site graphics & custom codes were created by the staff. A special thanks to Wolf & Katarina for all their help with the planning of Witchlight and the writing of the base lore.

Community Awards Winner