“C’mon! At least TRY to hit me!” (Commissioned art of Faustine by MizaelTengu on Reddit!)

Do not fool yourself. ‘Tis the Age of Beasts, the Age of the Hunt.

"Bastion! Bas, for friends!" 🛡️Firbolg Guardian 🛡️Friendly, forward and optimistic 🛡️ Adventurer for trade 🛡️ By Noize #FantasyRP • #DnDRP

A moment’s respite. When marching into certain death, best to grab little moments of quiet with both hands and violently shake them until some peace falls out.

Your battle is my battle; we fight together.

@eshenesra.sunder.my All was quiet at the Kindly Kraken. There was little to do other than wait for the inevitable ledge they all must take a leap of faith from. For some, this set their teeth on edge, gave them a tension in their shoulders that couldn’t be massaged out. —

“…Didja need something?”

Isn't all that rage ugly? Yes, but it's mine.

“Made a necklace out of ‘em once. Felt…A little weird about it. Haven’t worn it since.”

Her tail draws subtle shapes in the air as she descends deeper in thought, the final inches of it whip-snapping as she comes to a conclusion. “Scones! Scones…And maybe some slices of bacon if I can scrounge ‘em up. Decent breakfast, I think.”

Will you be warm again?

“They grow back. Like a shark. Lost probably five or six.”

“YOU’RE GONNA BE NOTHING BUT A BLOODY SACK OF MEAT WHEN I’M DONE PULVERIZING YOU!”

Time passed, as it does. Faustine found herself with little and less to occupy her bundles of time. Plans had been set, schemes dreamt up, arguments had, debates settled. A grand drama now in its intermission, and a long one at that. The Dragonborn was alone as she meandered around the —

“…Got somethin’ t’say to me or are you gonna stand there gawping at me all slack-jawed?”

“I can’t build a life again, foundation’s too cracked. Build anything on it and it’ll fall, given time. Why would I invite someone into that life when I know it’ll jus’ take a tumble right on their head?”

You'll be warm again.

For her there was no home. Nor did she want a home, a box where every place had a thing and every thing was in its place. She felt nothing but hate for the home—house—she’d once had, and that gave her no reason at all to wish for a new one. No. The tree, the field, the cave suited her fine.

I serve no purpose but to ensure your end.

I crave your warmth.

“Drank too much. Started singing. They’re never gonna let me live this down, are they?”

Have you considered that I might like you? | Me? No! Why would you? What a terrible idea.

“Oh you ‘ave GOT to be fucking kidding me.”

Can you forgive me for what I remained?

“GRAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

“GODSDAMNED FUCKING IDIOT, STOP DANCING!”

“You IDIOT! You stupid, mouth-breathing, slack-jawed, shit-for-brains, tongue-wagging, thick-skulled, ass-headed, parental disappointment! Could you be ANY fucking dumber?! Just standing near you is making my fucking head hurt! Have you ever had a single, solitary thought EVER pass through your fu…”

You did not forge me through the pain. I chose to be better.

“When the day comes and I die on some lonely battlefield, know the wolves that eat my flesh will grow sick from the hate I carry for you.”

My past forged an armor I cannot take off no matter how many times you tell me the war is over.

I cannot bury another friend.

Once again she had fallen asleep seated beside the camp’s fire, her form eerily still and upright as if part of her was still lucid and waiting for danger to visit her. Disturb her at your peril.

Don't tell me to dig two graves on my quest for revenge; we're going to need way more graves than that when I'm done.

“What? You asked for my opinion, I gave it to you.”

𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨... #MVRP | #DnDRP | #FantasyRP

🐲 !FLASH WARNING! 🐲

“Keep runnin’ your mouth, you’re giving me more time to get my hammer ready.” • Dragonborn Fighter • Greathammer enthusiast • Large, in charge, and very angry • MDNI: Violence, gore, language • #DnDRP, #BG3RP, #FantasyRP

Wren was, perhaps, the greatest gift she could have offered Faustine. A devout priest of a god-no-longer, and a stalwart ally that had healed from physical wounds and could perhaps help Faustine from wounds far less physical.

The small hours of the night were when the weight lay heaviest on her shoulders. The weight of guilt for old deeds never to be undone, the hatred for those she had once called brother and sister. The weight of wanting to feel none of it anymore, to be relieved of those burdens.

“Oh! Whatcha doing down there in the dust? Could it be you challenged someone way bigger than you to a fight? Stay down or I’ll put you back down.”

There were times with the others when she stood tall, her back as straight as a post, chin held high, eyes bright with fiery strength that came from somewhere deep within. In her voice, authority. In her deeds, strength. Then that would all pass, the light fade. What was left was cold and angry.

Faustine gnawed on a hunk of jerky that had been overcooked, over-salted, and over-dried. “What does it take to get some decent grub around here?”

“In a manner of speaking, yeah.”

“I didn’t grow up with my own kind. I wouldn’t count my folks. They shat me out into this world and treated me the same way—like shit. My people are supposed to be proud. Hold our chins high, walk tall, wear our horns like crowns. I’ve never felt that. It’s missing. Don’t think I’ll ever find it.”

“What did you just say?”

“What in the hells do you mean I ‘need to lighten up?!’ They started the fight, I just finished it!”

A rare moment of respite and peace amongst the chaos. She thanked gods she didn’t believe in just for the opportunity to take a seat.

“I’m to be saddled with another godsdamned person to look out for on this little trek?” She took a deep breath that was supposed to be calming. It wasn’t.

Starter for @thesunreversed.bsky.social. The two days after her brush with death and subsequent rescue dragged on for her. Rest, sessions with this group’s healer, more rest, fitful sleep. She had never managed to find a good night’s sleep when others were nearby, especially strangers. Though —