The Two of Swords [DUAL-PK]

[HugoAntero 1962]

Peter Stroheim, neck deep in the gigantic leg of a boar within Malchediael's shared realm, looked up at the new arrivals.
"You Adunians take too long to die," the old deceased Waldenian seethed.

[TaraJess 2848]

How was it that the fire still burned in her hearth?

 

Only some meters away Ildon crumbled, blood still pooled from last eve's battle, her Pa still slept from the hit upon his head. Crimson splatter still painted her own plate, it dripped onto the white bear pelt that had become a rug in the keep of Edrica. Her home was spared, the one where paint was still drying on the walls, where there were still empty rooms waiting to be furnished. All of her direct kin were accounted for, thank God, but even before fellspawn surrounded Ildon she knew.

 

Ildon was the pride and joy of her grandmother, it was her own beating heart. Perhaps that was a quiet source of Aurelian's dread that led up to the battle. The knowing, that she would not see Maeril again. So badly she wanted to. She wanted to get that last moment to properly say goodbye, but got held up elsewhere. The very moment she arrived back home in Ildon, her father pulled her to his side, and she dared not stray. She didn't get to say goodbye.

It ate at her. Knowing the last emotion she felt towards Maeril was anger, anger over some loose interpretation that her and her kin were not doing enough when they had barely just began. She knew she interpreted Maeril's words wrong, she knew that her grandmother simply wanted the best for them, that all she wanted was for us to continue on in our pursuit of redemption. Blind anger had taken hold of Aurelian in that interaction. 

 

After the battle though, when Aurelian slinked into the keep, desperately wanting her bed, the letter on the table stuck out like the brightest star in the sky. And that anger turned into a gnawing guilt. Guilt of the misinterpreted words. Guilt that she could no longer seek out her grandmother for advice. The realization that there were so few women in Greye that she could go to advice, and now, there was one less. One so strong as to rule, one who knew greatness, who built something. 

 

One less.

[Spellblades 749]

A Mali'ker glanced up at the moon, something he hadn't done in ages, as he saw two stars vanish from the night's sky.

 

"Go in Peace."

[The Vulgate Cycle 577]

Lord Arthur Marsyr looks upon the ruins of Ildon and clenched his fist. 
"May justice be done, even though the world may perish."

[Cally 1080]

18 hours ago, marsloll said:

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[By Credo Quia Absurdum]

 

༺𓆩︎𓆪༻ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ, ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ɪ ᴄʟɪɴɢ. ༺𓆩︎𓆪༻

 

Wandering is what Eislyn did best. Sleepwalking was all too common, as a woman with her kind of … affliction. Unconsciously or consciously running away, as willed by her mind or another spirit who thought that it would be fun to be back in a living body. Never one to sit in one place, for she found only misery awaiting her when she overstayed her welcome. It happened in Numenost, then in Solgaard, then in Karoslund - heartache and grief knew the o’Rourke all too well, and she to them. It was typically caused by her own hand, and yet becomes another tally on a sprawling wall of mistakes that never seemed to end. 

 

Lost in the northern mountains with nothing but her wolven companion, the white-haired woman practically blended into the harsh snowscape with her pallid features and white garb. The inky-black fur of the wolf was all that distinguished the pair from the soft snow that surrounded them - trudging their own path underneath the night sky. With a vision hazed and crowded by other wandering souls like herself, Eislyn found herself a place to sit - staring up at the universe that seemed to scowl down upon her so often. Stargazing had become a habit of hers, a place to escape even the dead from her sights - where it was just herself, and nobody else. With warm fur surrounding and supporting her form, the o’Rourke leaned back and let out a puff of warm air that floated up to the heavens - weary eyes drawn upon to the various twinkling stars that blinked in and out of existence like a warm welcome from arms that she would never know. Scanning the expansive sea of night, her eyes lingered on a bright pair that seemed to glow unrivaled by those around them - burning with a new light as if just christened.

 

Those two there … 

 

Were they always so beautiful?

 

༺𓆩︎𓆪༻ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴏ - ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ. ༺𓆩︎𓆪༻

 

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It was so lovely to interact with both Maeril and Edwyn whenever I could - some memories between them and Eislyn have been some of the sweetest and memorable moment to me and the character. Unfortunate that I could not have RPed with either of you two more, but I hope that we can interact in the future once more!

 

Spoiler

This formatting is so juicy, thank you mars and its been so much fun to build on these characters! I hope we get to have more characters in the future that interact.

 

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

Oijin tries to FIGHT Edwin and Maeril in Templar heaven for the pure love of the game and competition. “Xambala too small for all of us!!!” He screeches!

[Chimeraof1999 1187]

A deep sadness emerged within his heart as his eyes watered with the tears of the rivers of the Epleiades. The creature dried this non-corporeal tears as he inhaled through his pearly cat-like teeth.
"You will always be like a mother to me, Maeril. . . I hope I can see you again."
The Kha spoke, from the moments of darkness embedded in their relationship, to her guidance of him, he felt every single pain of his ectoplasm erking. He was saddened but he knew she was in a better place.

"Goodbye. . . I will miss you, dear commander."
The creature blessed her soul as he watched her leave the coin all life lives on before that final tear dried on the soil blessed by God himself.