|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 24, 2019 21:47:28 GMT
“Darling, you really are starting to get just a little too-“
“Skinny? Are you going to say skinny?”
Faerveren had wanted to emulate her father ever since she was a little girl. He told her great stories, weaving fantastical universes, exciting worlds she immersed herself into. He gave her lessons in music, after she asked about the lute her mother had left him. It was elegant, ornate, and a shade of pastel purple. Or it used to be. She’d worn down the paint, exposing the wood, with the oils in her fingers, and frequent friction. It worked just the same, though. He was a good man, and he was proud of her for all she’d done. He was kind, encouraging, he was a sweet man. She wanted to be someone’s companion like that. But there was a problem in the mix.
Faerveren didn’t like men. She never had, not once. She’d never been able to endure a ‘what if’. So she believed, wholeheartedly, that she would never get the opportunity, especially since meeting Brennip, with whom she expected to stay.
So Dhaunmyr was almost like an echo of what could have been. Their relationship fluctuated. Sometimes he was so childish, he was like a son, others, a dear friend, or a brother. Usually a younger brother. And on the briefest of occasions, he felt more dominant than that. Usually when he didn’t like someone on the other side of the street’s glint, or something to that affect. But Faerveren didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and she certainly had no children. That’s what made Dhaunmyr so special to her, and why it hurt her so much to watch his self destructive behaviour, it was like he didn’t realise how close he was to pulling himself out of the metaphorical hole he’d been born into. Of course, he was literally out of it now.
“I just thought you could try-“
Her unwilling mentee slammed the door.
Dhaunmyr was a little pissed off that Faerveren had decided to try and mother him today. He could take care of himself, he was a grown man. So the most grown thing he could do was go out and get blind drunk to spite her. He was so tired of being told what to do with himself by people who didn’t know a damn thing about him. He loved Faerveren. She was a good friend. She just needed to keep her nose out of his business. And the business of today, as stated, was to get as drunk, maybe do something he’d regret, and then end up home, like. Eventually. He pretty much announced himself, and ordered a big, fruity drink, that was actually incredibly expensive because it had far more shots in it than he’d probably be allowed to just order. Half the bottle? Yeah just like. A pint of liquor. Probably not going to go down terribly well. And then he found himself someone vaguely less ugly than everyone else. A man, some kind of big one. Dhaunmyr didn’t pay much attention. But he could continue to shower him in drinks all night. And if he got bored, well, his loss. It had gotten to the point that his new tiefling friend felt that he’d done enough for Dhaunmyr to ah, you know. The dark elf laughed a bit, and traced down the man’s horn, taking in the texture of it. He wasn’t sure how he expected it to feel. Maybe not like it did. He knew it was a tough material, but he almost felt like if he tapped it too hard, it would shatter. Dhaunmyr didn’t like letting the people he’d hooked up with where he stayed. You never knew when one was going to get angry for some reason, or, worse, think it was going to be a regular thing. Dhaunmyr didn’t want regularity. It felt too much like a shadow of a relationship. Stupidly, he’d, this time, forgotten all that, and they were going to go back to the inn he was staying at. Dhaunmyr saw no flaws in that plan at the time. Except... something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was. “No, hold on. Have I dropped my coin purse?” Dhaunmyr stood in the doorway of the tavern, patting himself down. He found it. “My... key?” That was in its place too. He stepped out a little further. He felt that he’d accidentally picked up an irritable drunk, or just angry, just super angry. He heard the tiefling huff and puff, and he felt his breath on his neck. He couldn’t remember what was wrong. The night air was cold, and Dhaunmyr looked out at the street at his options, as if the streets home would whisper to him what was the problem. What was the problem? Something wasn’t missing. So what could it possibly have been? He stood there, staring, back to his companion and the tavern. Something was wrong, something was wrong. He couldn’t figure it out. He dove a ringed hand through his hair, and turned around. The tiefling looked so funny when he was annoyed. Like really funny. Dhaunmyr threw his head back and laughed, and tugged on his hand, but he didn’t make it particularly far before he almost fell over and had to cling to him for support. “Oh my— Oh Eilistraee— the floor— and you! Everything’s so-!” Dhaunmyr shook his head, tugging that arm again, stumbling forwards. He’d lost all his grace, and luckily he didn’t give a shit about his dignity when he was alone in a dark street, other than one man he’d never speak to again. |
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 24, 2019 22:17:33 GMT
Waterdeep had a lot of bars. Waterdeep also had a lot of sailors, adventurers and laborers: the sort of people with a lot of muscles. Unfortunately, said people also tended to be short on sense, or rather frequently long on honor or pride, without a corresponding respect for the property of other people – like bar owners.
The simplest solution was to hire someone with a lot of muscles to stand outside the bar, or inside the bar, and deal with any – problems – which arose. The job didn’t pay particularly well, mostly because it wasn’t particularly hard, but the pay, if you worked regularly, was good enough for a room of your own instead of a bed in a common area, and at least one meal per day.
Kara was content with a room of her own and at least one meal per day. Since most of the people who worked as bouncers didn’t have any references, most of the inns who wanted them didn’t ask, which made it easy for Kara not to have to discuss either the Stone Shields or the Freewolves, which was exactly how she liked it. It was, generally, a very simple job; the only hard part was dealing with all the drunk people.
Kara drank. Of course she drank. Everyone drank, and she’d had plenty of sorrows to try to drown in her time. She hadn’t even crawled into the bottom of a bottle, exactly; she had crossed the threshold into what was called blackout drunk exactly once, and regretted it and the massive property damage she’d caused the next morning. That had been in Everlund, a long time ago; the only part of it she hadn’t regretted was the damage she’d done to the man who’d tried to pick her up. Even, apparently, blacked out drunk, Kara could still handle herself. She did, slightly, regret that she didn’t remember the fight. If something so one-sided could be called a fight.
That was all to say that the people who stumbled out of the bars, wasted and slurring and stumbling down the streets, confused Kara a little. She understood it in an intellectual sense – some people liked to get drunk and go home with strangers – but she couldn’t exactly relate to it. That was all right though; she didn’t need to relate to it. She just needed to keep them from entering the bar if they were already too drunk, or help them outside (the nice way or the hard way) if they needed to leave. When she was standing outside, it was mostly the keep-them-from-entering job, which was a little easier, and so Kara tended not to pay much attention to the people exiting, not if she didn’t have to. It was just easier that way.
Also, most of the bars let Kara keep her glaive in hand, which was nice. She didn’t really need it for working as a bouncer, and she would never use the blade – tavern owners got sulky about blood needing to be scrubbed off floors – but the shaft of the weapon was very useful on its own, and Kara was as skilled with that as she was the blade.
Tonight she made her way to her newest place of employment; she’d worked at the bar the night before, and although the owner had seemed a little disappointed she’d wanted her wages in liquor instead of coin, she’d returned anyway, by mutual consent. It wasn’t the worst job she’d had; he let her dress in her own clothing and hadn’t minded when she’d stopped a patron from feeling up the bartender.
It had been a good day so far. Dhaunmyr had come to training; he was getting much better at grab escapes, which Kara was very pleased by. They’d even had time for a drawing lesson, although they’d done in at the training site. Kara had had time to go home and change out of her sweaty training clothes, which was – most of what she owned. After a few moments of deep deliberation, she’d carefully put on the black shirt that Dhaunmyr had given her. It wasn’t long on him, but on Kara it was more like a tunic. It had pretty gold trim, and just a little bit of lace on the sleeves (he had let her choose and she’d tried to find the least lacy thing he owned; at least it wasn’t very lacy, which Kara was happy about). She was a little unsure about wearing it to the bar, but – one perk the owner had promised her was that he knew a few spells, including one for cleaning, and he’d help her deal with any soiling that happened due to drunk patrons.
So Kara took her stance outside the bar, setting her glaive against the wall behind her, and settled in for a night of mostly waiting punctuated by brief periods of excitement. She didn’t give much thought to the tall, lanky figure that stumbled out of the door, pursued by a huffing tiefling, at least not until he spoke.
Kara’s eyes went wide, and she stared at Dhaunmyr as he all but tripped over himself in the street, patting himself down, clinging to the tiefling, and generally looking as drunk as anyone she had ever seen still standing. Kara jerked, starting to move towards him, then held herself very still. It wasn’t her place to interrupt this, she thought, no matter how worried she was. She clenched her hands into fists, glancing at the horned tiefling, cautiously alert for any sign of anything that - that felt - that felt wrong.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 24, 2019 22:38:40 GMT
Dhaunmyr hadn’t seen Kara. And even if he had, he might not have been in the fortune to recognise her. She was plain. She wasn’t anything like anyone Dhaunmyr would have associated with, in any way at all. Not desperately pretty, or tall, no interest in his wares, and no money. But if he did recognise her, a degree of that changed. She was suddenly the prettiest person in the world, and everything else didn’t matter even a little. Kara was a dear, dear friend to him, and he refused to see a single flaw in her being.
That didn’t matter. In his mind, she wasn’t there. But something was still wrong. The guy seemed fine... had he worn a coat? Dhaunmyr poked his head back into the door, staggering past Kara as if she were a ghost. No, he didn’t see anything and— “I’m wearing my coat! Would you look at that.”
“Could you just get on with it?” The tiefling didn’t care. It wasn’t based on any kind of attraction to Dhaunmyr’s personality. He just visually seemed appealing, and he was growing impatient with having to put up with the elf any longer than he had to. He was sure he’d stop talking in his room. And if he didn’t, he’d find a reason to.
“Oh! Of course. I’m so... what were we doing?” Dhaunmyr wasn’t in the right place to even touch someone and it not be sketchy. He sort of knew he’d drunk too much, but, again with the reckless behaviour, he just couldn’t help it. He eyed up the tiefling again, and laughed at himself, reaching out to take his hand again, but something caught him square in the chest. Well, it was more his collarbone. A person? Dhaunmyr looked down. He squinted, then jerked back in recognition. He felt guilty only now. He wasn’t sure what for, or why, but that was Kara Bellringer, and he was being a massive disappointment of a friend.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 24, 2019 23:37:17 GMT
Kara didn’t like this. She didn’t like it at all.
It wasn’t that Dhaunmyr was going home with a man; Kara didn’t mind that. Actually, she was a little happy that he wanted to. From what he had told her about the Underdark and his former lover, and the rest of what she had guessed, she would very much have understood if Dhaunmyr never wanted to ever again. But he was drunk, very drunk, which was okay, Kara didn’t want to be that way herself but she knew some people did, except - except that Kara could see at a glance that the tiefling wasn’t nearly as drunk. And that made her very uncomfortable.
Dhaunmyr was wandering back and forth. Kara didn’t say anything, didn’t call his attention to her. Not yet. She still wasn’t sure if she should at all, although she scowled at the trifling when she heard the impatience in his voice. Dhaunmyr shouldn’t go home with someone impatient with him. But - it was his choice and Kara still didn’t say anything.
Maybe it was because she was looking at the tiefling that she didn’t realize Dhaunmyr was walking straight at her? She turned with barely enough time to realize it was him before he bumped into her, hard, her forehead thinking softly against his collarbone. Kara gently brought up both hands to steady him, one on each of his arms, just for a moment before he jerked back, staring at her wide-eyed.
Kara paused, looking up at him, then gave him a little nod of acknowledgment, a silent hello. “Are you okay?” She asked, very softly.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 0:18:38 GMT
“Kara!”
Dhaunmyr was really happy to see her. She was so amazing, so lovely. He cupped her cheeks and bent his knees until he was level with her. “What are you doing here? This is very awkward. I didn’t think I’d. Didn’t think you were... here. Kara I’m sorry. I don’t want... this is awkward.” He let go and straightened back up. He wasn’t happy to see her anymore. Why did he feel bad about it?
The tiefling seemed less happy to see her, finally grabbing Dhaunmyr’s arm after he’d had enough of waiting. The elf had agreed, he’d been pretty clear he wanted to, so why all this fuss? Was he a liar? He didn’t like liars. Ironically, Dhaunmyr was a massive liar. He’d lied all evening. Convincingly? That was another story, especially after all his drinks.
“No. Let go, I’m not... I wanna hang out with Kara insteaaad.” Dhaunmyr shook his head. He realised that the tiefling had been waiting to follow his lead, so his room. That wasn’t happening, no that was too personal. If Kara hadn’t been there, he was at a loss, really, for what he would have done, or if he would have realised. Maybe this man wanted to raid Dhaunmyr’s jewellery box, he could only assume he wanted to steal. Other explanations didn’t settle in his head comfortably enough to stay.
“Come on.” He pulled again, and for a second fear and acceptance crossed Dhaunmyr’s face. And then he turned back to face Kara again. Something was there to be remembered, the pressure on his wrist, her face... he very gently nodded to her, and, slightly sloppily but still with something of a practised edge, he rammed his knee as hard as he possibly could into the Tiefling, and used the momentary slip of his grip to push him off completely, following up with a solid fist into his jaw. Dhaunmyr watched the man fall backwards, and for a moment, worried he’d hit his head on the fall down and he wasn’t getting back up. But then he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his face where he’d been hit, and limping, running, falling over and away.
Dhaunmyr turned to his friend with his hands over his mouth and the widest possible eyes.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 25, 2019 0:28:45 GMT
Kara held very still while Dhaunmyr cupped her cheeks; she could really be best described as ‘tolerating’ it. She blinked at Dhaunmyr; even if it had been in her nature to answer his questions, he hadn’t really given her time, moving between sentences rapid fire. Why was he apologizing? Kara mentally dismissed it, writing it off as one of those strange things that drunk people did. His breath smelled awful, Kara noticed.
The tiefling grabbed hold of Dhaunmyr, and Kara clenched her hand into a fist, looking him up and down. She could take him, she decided; he looked overconfident, the sort that would be caught off-guard by someone standing up to him – someone who got angry but didn’t have good follow through.
Kara shifted her weight; the tiefling was pulling on Dhaunmyr now. She’d need to get around Dhaunmyr and to the tiefling without hurting him; she didn’t want to take the time for her glaive, so that meant – Dhaunmyr turned to Kara and gave her a little nod, then turned back and –
Kara’s eyes went wide; she lost her combat ready stance, knees straightening, and just stared as Dhaunmyr took the self-defense techniques they’d been practicing, tirelessly, for weeks, and applied them. Proplery – very properly, with a well-aimed knee to the groin, a shove and a nicely delivered fist.
The tiefling took off, running.
Kara’s eyes were as wide as Dhaunmyr’s; she stared back at him. She had, in all honesty, started to wonder if there was a point to the training, started to wonder if any of it was sinking in, started to wonder if Dhaunmyr really wanted to be there. “You – “ Kara glanced down at the ground where the tiefling had been before his hasty hobbled retreat, then back at Dhaunmyr. “Good job!” Kara praised, not sure what else to say but feeling very much like she needed to say something.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 0:51:23 GMT
He swallowed, hard, then he grabbed Kara’s hand.
She’d really saved him from that, no matter how much she’d probably said she hadn’t done anything, deflect his comments, whatever. Or maybe she would acknowledge all she’d done. He had no real way to tell, other than...
“Thank you! Thank you Kara! Thanks. I owe you.” And then his eyes stung and he was sobbing. “You’re my best friend, Kara, I love you Kara, you’re the best. You really... without you I... Kara!” He held on tight to her hand, with both of his after he spoke, instead of just the one. He wiped his eye on his upper arm’s sleeve, leaving a clear black smear on his coat. “You didn’t tell me why you’re here, why are you here? What are you doing? You’re an angel, Kara.”
Sweet, sweet angel. She had done so much more to help him than anyone else had done. She’d shown him that he could be more than all he thought he was currently, she knew things about him that no one else did at all. And as far as he knew, she’d kept them secret. Dhaunmyr kept what she’d said secret too. Did she know that? Maybe she should.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 25, 2019 1:10:36 GMT
Dhaunmyr grabbed his hand, and Kara held his as well, still wide-eyed. He thanked her, three times, and then burst into sobs, blubbering about how much he loved her, still clinging to her hands. Kara was wide-eyed, a little taken aback by the burst of words. She shook her head a little – Dhaunmyr had saved himself, in Kara’s opinion, although there had been a little help from her on the way.
Tears were healing; that was what Dhaunmyr had said, and so Kara didn’t bother trying to get him to stop crying. She did, however, reach forward with the hand that Dhaunmyr wasn’t currently attempting to crush and give his shoulder a little comforting pat, just a gentle sort of – pat pat.
“You did it,” Kara told him, very seriously. “Not me.” Dhaunmyr was very flowery; Kara didn’t take any of it seriously, but it was nice to let the sweet words flutter over her.
All the same, Kara was genuinely proud of him; this was much, much better than the way he had cringed the first time she had grabbed his wrist, like – like anyone could just drag him anywhere they wanted. She had thought, tonight, for just a moment, that he meant to let the tiefling do the same, and – he hadn’t. Kara couldn’t think of when she’d been so proud before; it was a strange bursting sort of feeling. She wanted to shout from the rooftops that Dhaunmyr had done well; she wanted to tell him she was proud.
So – she did. “I’m proud of you,” Kara set her hand over his and squeezed, lightly, then let go, hoping against hope that he would as well, and expecting that he probably wouldn’t. This was more important than explaining why she was at the bar, so Kara didn’t bother, instead focusing her gaze on Dhaunmyr’s face to make sure the words sank in. If necessary, she would repeat them again. “I’m proud of you.”
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 1:31:14 GMT
“I only did a bit. You’re the one who showed me how. You’re the one that helped me practice... you’re amazing.” Dhaunmyr grinned, although he was still crying. The tears just didn’t stop. He wanted to hug her, but last time it had ended up horrendously. “You were so... patient with me, you kept going. Even though I must have been so annoying to try to teach. I’m sorry. We should...” He just descended into slight blubbering, he wasn’t sure what to tell her. It was like she didn’t understand what he was telling her.
Kara was proud of him.
Dhaunmyr stopped crying, he wasn’t sure he’d quite caught that. Kara was proud of him. He sniffled, starting to speak but he had nothing to say, not really. Or if he did, the words weren’t coming out right. Or coming to mind right, since he couldn’t even think them. But he felt them. And then Kara squeezed his hands and oh Eilistraee— how hadn’t he noticed yet? That hurt. That really hurt.
She repeated herself, and the warm, gooey feeling in his chest didn’t quite cancel out how much his hand hurt. He gave her an appreciative smile, before tossing his left hand over and over by the wrist with his right one. He was shaking it too hard and fast to see anything wrong.
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 25, 2019 1:45:49 GMT
Kara shook her head a little, but didn’t really object, letting Dhaunmyr say whatever it was he needed to say. She had a feeling that he would probably like a hug, that she really should give him a hug, and – it hadn’t been so bad, had it? She had cried, yes, but that had been mostly happy crying. Maybe – maybe next time. Kara wasn’t quite ready to give him a hug, not – not yet.
A very different look came over Dhaunmyr’s face – one Kara recognized. Pain. She dropped her gaze to his hands, and winced, immediately spotting the problem; her guess was a broken finger.
“I think your finger is broken,” Kara said, gently, taking Dhaunmyr’s hand in hers; she didn’t apply any pressure, but she stopped him from shaking it; it wouldn’t help. “Come on, come inside with me,” Kara guided Dhaunmyr a little towards the door, slowly. Inside they could set his finger and maybe get him something cool to put against it; that might help with the pain.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 2:18:33 GMT
Dhaunmyr stared at Kara with a small ‘o’ shape parting his lips. Broken? Dhaun shook his head. It couldn’t be broken. He actually needed that hand. He needed to write and to... well he didn’t really use his hand for much else. He had a pretty easy life.
“No. No it... if it’s broken... but I need to...” His hand flopped, the other one tried very hard to make something of the physical contact he’d been granted from Kara the angel. Dhaunmyr tried weakly to pull it back, but knew ultimately that Kara only wanted what was best for him. “I’m left handed.” He said, as if that changed anything. Dhaunmyr sighed.
He nodded, heading inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Somehow, he’d never broken a bone in his body. He’d endured only burns and cuts, the occasional slap or beating, but not the kind designed to cause damage, just the kind that hurt like hell.
“Kara what if I can’t work and I die.”
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 25, 2019 2:29:11 GMT
Kara blinked at Dhaunmyr, once, slowly. “.. you won’t,” she said, finally. She held his hand still for another moment, then stepped back to fetch her glaive from the wall, sliding it into the holster on her back. She turned back to Dhaunmyr, and, feeling he might need to be led, gently took his hand – the uninjured one, this time – in hers, and led him into the bar.
Kara ignored the crowds of people, and all the rules about where customers like Dhaunmyr were allowed to be. She led him quite comfortably behind the bar, nodding to the bartender, and into the back room for employees, and sort of gently sat him down on the stack of crates that doubled as chairs. She went and fetched a glass of water, pressing it into his uninjured hand, then stepped away again.
Kara returned with a small flat piece of wood, and a small roll of bandages. She knelt down in front of Dhaunmyr, taking his injured hand, and pressed the board to his injured finger. “Breathe,” she told him, softly, looking up at him. Slowly, very carefully, Kara straightened his finger out, pressing the board between it and the next finger, and wrapped them together with the bandages.
Once she was satisfied, Kara rose again, putting the extra bandages away, and came back with a handful of ice wrapped in a cloth; ice was expensive, but she didn’t really care. Kara thought it likely the innkeeper wouldn’t want her back after this, but she didn’t mind; Dhaunmyr came first, without even a thought about it. Kara hesitated, thinking it over, and decided it was best if Dhaunmyr used his free hand for the water. So, not remotely self-conscious, she knelt in front of him again, holding the ice to his injured finger as gently as she could.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 3:33:30 GMT
“But what if I do, Kara? Kara? Kara, will you come and see me tomorrow and check I’m not dead. Do you have a key? You should do. I thought I gave you the key. Maybe Faerveren has it, I can’t remember, but if I don’t open the door go find her and get inside and make sure. Okay? Thank you. You’re a good friend, Kara, you’re such a good friend. Look, you’re helping me and I don’t even deserve it. I got myself into a stupid mess and I made bad decisions but you’re still helping me. I love you... but not in a weird way in a friend way because you’re my friend. Are we supposed to be here? I don’t know if we should be, are you allowed? Looks like you’re allowed, okay, where are we going? Oh! Oh! Alllllmost tripped. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m barely even drunk. There was... something in the way there. It’s not there anymore! Wow... okay here? Yeah okay. Okay Kara. Where are you going? So water? And... right. Okay. That actually... that’s notokaystopOhGoDSkARA...”
It didn’t hurt as much as it could have. Contrary to what he had said, he was incredibly drunk. That helped just enough, just enough. Dhaunmyr really... pain wasn’t a great favourite of his. Not many people enjoyed receiving pain, but he specifically hated it, it had more than just the pain of his broken finger, and alcohol couldn’t stop him from thinking about that, about her... her...
“My ex used to hurt my hands aaaall the time. It was funny. She never helped look after the burns though, she always left them... and then, and then I thought it was good. I was so pissed off when Faerveren fixed it. Because I thought, if it didn’t hurt, then how did I feel her love from so far away? I thought that was why she did it. She just wanted to ruin my chances up here, so I’d go back and she could have me forever... and she never... and... Do you think I overreacted, Kara? When I... when I...”
|
|
|
|
Post by moralhazard on Apr 25, 2019 3:47:50 GMT
“Drink your water,” Kara reminded Dhaunmyr; other than the occasional nod and a quiet promise that, yes, she would come and look in on him the next day, Kara didn’t respond much to Dhaunmyr’s chatter, figuring it was mostly about him needing to talk. She wouldn’t let him trip; she was more than capable of catching him and holding him up, if he really did fall.
Kara kept the ice against Dhaunmyr’s finger. It wouldn’t matter much for the bone, but less swelling would be less painful, she hoped, and might help keep the bone straight as it healed. All the same, Kara would tell Faerevern; she couldn’t see how they could avoid it. Maybe they could find either a more competent healer, or someone with enough magic to heal his finger; Kara would be sorry if it healed crooked. She hoped it wouldn’t; she had done her best to straighten it out. She thought it better to do it immediately, but…
Kara let the thought go. There was no point in dwelling; it was too late now.
She looked down at Dhaunmyr’s hand, clasped in hers, at the scars on it. She was quiet, for a long moment, looking back up at him. “No,” Kara said, as gently as she could manage, looking at Dhaunmyr. She didn’t have to hesitate; there was no need to think about it. Kara didn’t care what Lolth taught, or how fervently Dhaunmyr insisted that what his ex had done was right in drow culture, was normal. There was no love in hurting someone like that. “You did the right thing,” Kara promised.
|
|
|
|
Post by enchilada on Apr 25, 2019 11:52:43 GMT
“Oh! Yes... of course.” Dhaunmyr only just seemed to really recognise the cup, he’d just kind of been holding it, because Kara wanted him to and that was enough reason for him. He sipped at it, if only to appease her, because he was far more interested on commenting on just about everything. He was particularly interested in what she was doing, he’d never really had any kind of help before, at least not when he was conscious.
“So... that’s cold. What’s it for? She, uh, shud... srudria? Sh...” He tried several more seemingly nonsense combinations of syllables before giving up. “She had um, she was training with the temple. She knew stuff. Like magic and stuff, but different. And she could fix things, if she wanted to, that was the trouble though... she didn’t want to. She’d always say she’s better than me because I could only make lights and she could do shadow even before she started training, but I can do... three whole things now, Kara. Magic isn’t hard! It’s just they try to keep it... exclusive, y’know? Don’t let us get in on it... stupid bitches, everyone can cast even a little thing.”
“But she wouldn’t... she didn’t try to fix any injuries I got, ‘cause she was stupid and didn’t care. I don’t know if she deserved what she got in the end though. Wasn’t... pretty.”
|
|
