The angry voices echoed through the encampment, it was not the first time heated words could be heard from the couple within.
“Do you think it has been easy for me?” his tone loud and angry “Having to lie every single day when I could just as easily walk away from it all… All you have done is given me more reasons to go; you make things harder with your irrational behavior and lack of trust.”
“Making it harder how? By not letting you push me around! What made you think I’d just roll over like that simpering little girl you keep running off too! “
“Perhaps if for once you’d back don this might be a marriage and not a constant battle!”
Their argument continued on for the longest time, some merely ignored it, others stared at the tent for a long while before continuing on with their dealings, the soldiers knew better then to interrupt two higher ranking members of the unit.
Things forever come in pairs, love is between two
Wars are between two sides, personalities divided
Two women the target, one body to face the fight.
Kethry the warrior mother to be, strong and confident
Joyia the prize, the jewel, the link between my broken halves.
“Come Tam, take the certainty… or accept the challenge.”
He lay in the bed, the soft pillows only reminding him his real love is at home alone, waiting for him to return to her…But could he return, would he ever be able to face her…the things he had done, “Joyia…I do not want to destroy you…I fear I cannot stop him….” He thinks to himself
“Oh no…we are not destroying her, we have to help her…she craves this, did you hear the moan, the desire escaping her lips as that blade made the touch up to her scar?”
“You’re a fucking monster…”
A bitter laugh “Oh no…Tamaki Firestrider is a monster, we are a monster, this is us…because deep down you know I am you, I am a side of you….” The laughter crackles in his mind.
“Death knights… Why did it have to be a death knight?” Tamaki saw it kneeling along side its ghoul as the creature fed on one of his men, tearing the flesh from the corpse of the archers he sent to dispose of the bodies of the fallen.
“Alright men, move forward, let’s do this quickly.” Tamaki ordered kneeling down placing a crossbow bolt in place as he took aim, his men moved forwards slowly and he pulled the trigger.
The death knight was fast, from the second the click of that trigger echoed through the mountain pass the death knight was ready, dodging the bolt as he turned Runeblade glowing in hand. His eyes glowed a bright blue that chilled Tamaki’s blood as he stared the man down, looking into an abyss of hatred and lust for battle, the death knight let out a laugh before using his dark abilities to pull Tamaki forward, lifting him over his men as he did, tossing the hunter down beside him “Die!” he yelled swinging his blade.
There are very few that know Ariava Redbreeze. They know of her, or they've seen her antics in the city. But very few truly know the girl hiding behind the front. The terrified little girl, that only begs for one thing in her life; the one thing she'll never be granted.
There's something I don't have a lot of, anymore.
"Lothor, this will be your final test. Bring her to me, so I may seek my revenge for what she did. You must not fail me! You put your trust in this new weakling. If he fails you, you fail me. This bold move on your part must not go un punished. Should he fail me, I will personally see to your end.
Take care of that Troll she loves so dearly. Have your new 'friend' take care of that. You personally must do what is needed to achieve revenge. Joyia must not be allowed to go on, knowing what she did to me. We must show her the monster she unleashed.
Silence is beautiful, or so many say. But is there ever truly a moment of pure silence? A moment without the sigh of the wind, the rustle of branches and leaves, the murmur of countless voices? Never is there true silence, it seems. Not in the outside world, and certainly not in here.
Klein had traveled the world in search of Joyia. He had not seen her in days, he was very worried. He had grown feelings for her, yet she was a married women. This had been Kleins curse. To fall for those who are taken. So he set off to find the women he was falling for.
Klein had gone all across Azeroth, from Silvermoon to The Blasted Lands. From Tanaris to Mulgore. He had no sign of where Joyia might be, no single clue to point him in the right direction.
Finally, he decided to travel back to Silvermoon. Nearly giving up, he noticed he had mail from Joyia. She had made her way home. She was all right, nothing had happened to her. As he read the note, he realized Joyia had gone off to save her husband. Klein realized he stood no chance in winning Joyia.
Rykka tossed and and turned as she attempted to find a comfortable position to get to sleep in. Yet no matter how relaxed her body was, she couldn't quiet her mind enough to sleep. After several hours of tossing and turning, she threw off the covers and got out of bed. Grabbing a robe on her way downstairs, she made her way to the modest kitchen of her Silvermoon apartment and began brewing a cup of tea. If she was going to be up all night thinking, she might as well enjoy a drink.
Who is this person? Why is she so intent on knowing what I do? I will allow this, for now. Until I figure out her motives.
"She sits there, asking question after question. A smille on her face as I answer each one. Why is she so intent on knowing every single detail? I will meet with her again. She must have a hidden agenda."
Klein and Joy had met twice now. Still she barraged him with questions. He was slightly uncomfortable with this sudden turn of events. He hasn't had a "student" in some time. Not many are willing to listen to the words of a man, who is considered evil. Klein thought he would run with this. He felt slight joy out of "teaching", without the killing part. He would allow her to ask her questions, however wild they may seem.
It would appear, in Kleins eyes. He had a new student......For now.
Klein had waited outside La Bella Morte for Synnaquin. He was to have an interview about a position. He had waited awhile. Since Klein usually left Fancy Cakes after his tea. He decided to sit outside and wait, thinking of what to say in the interview. He wanted this job.
An arguement had followed a small crowd to the entrance of La Bella Morte. Klein sat there and watched. He soon spotted Synnaquin amoung the crowd. She had seemed to of seen Klein aswell. She motioned for him to come inside for the interview.
Are you here for the new bouncer position?
Klein had nodded. Am I limited on the amount of force I am allowed to use?
You got the job!
Rykka walked away from the club, Kraktaz silently following several steps behind her, the young troll's mind racing with what had just happened. She had shown up in Silvermoon, ready to learn more from her Mistress, having meditated long and hard about what she had been taught last time. She had finally realized what Synn had meant by being alone, that she had to keep everything and everyone at arm's reach because they could be used against her by her own demons. It was a painful realization, and she had struggled hard with it the past weeks. Now she hoped Synn could help guide her down the difficult path.
Stardrifter. Stardust. Starwhisper. Mu'sha, it seems like everyone's either you or the stars. Even in name...
The balmy heat licked against her skin, causing a layer of sweat to cling to her slightly aching frame with no way to escape, the muggy time of day was to blame for the unpleasantness certainly. The day was dragging to a close and she awaited the cooler evening patiently. Lifting her arm, she wiped the perspiration away from her forehead with the back of her hand before using her fingers to draw the dark chocolate strands away from her eyes.
It was hot.
(*in lieue of recent events, this entire post and all events have been ret-conned. Enjoy the read, nonetheless)
Her thoughts were a jumble..where to even start?
Lily had decided to make up with her best friend, the girl she considered a little sister. She missed the easy comfort of her trust - her honest advice, and opinions.
Whispering to each other during ATS's drinking parties- laughing at the others, admiring the 'view', and making private jokes.
The talks on the top deck of the barge – watching an orange sun, setting slowly over the frothy whitecaps that were the sea -
enjoying a warm Durotar evening, and a gentle tease of a sea-breeze.
The past few weeks had brought her foremost insecurities to the front of her mind, and stripped away what few people she thought she could trust.
Tiradell had called her a weakling, right after she and Joyia had fought. The younger Knight had stood her ground against a man, for once – she had reached the end of her rope only hours before, breaking her hand on the coarse wood of the barge.
Yet Joy's words stuck in her head -
"You haven't been back in weeks."
She could have hit the girl. Lily had raised her left hand angrily - her broken right hanging useless at her side - before lowering it with a cold glare.
The knight's soft voice took an unusually harsh edge.
(( A continuation of "Part One" of the events that happened on 2/17/2011 ))
"Rya, sweetie, can you do me a favor?"
Joyia's voice came through a private message just after Gilthånås had finished his own message, still trying to persuade me of the evils of the world.
"Tiradell will not stop until Iloam is dead."
"I understand how Tiradell is ... and I will stop at nothing until I am certain Iloam is safe."
I responded to Gil first only because the conversation we had been involved in was more important to me than a favor for a girl I only barely know. Gil may have pulled a gun at me, may have seen me as a traitor, yet for some reason I felt I could trust him as a friend.
((This blog in part references Wezil's http://www.rp-haven.com/blog/wezil/wanted ))
Joyia's voice had giggled through her comm early that morning.
Wow, nice picture!
Lily had inquired, while looking down into a cup of coffee, ugh. She never drank coffee. But she hadn't gotten any sleep last night after her talk with Joy.
It was a hectic day, she could use the boost. She made a face at the Orgrimmar brew - it looked more like tar, than anything else. She eyed the veritable mountain of paperwork, listening to the footfalls - the good-natured laughing and cursing of the crew and ship-hands outside the office. She would need it to get through the day. It had been a sleepless night.
((OOC warning: a bit more explicit than usual. If you are offended easily, don't read.))
I sat up with a start, pushing myself from the hard floor of the World's End Pillar. I'd laid down to sleep on a mat and had only succeeded in being plagued by the dreams. They were coming back again. I sighed and rubbed my face. This was not good. I sat, trying to think of what could have dredged them up this time...these flashbacks. I felt a minor presence as it pulled away from my mind and my eyes narrowed.
I awoke in the middle of night, restless in the city. The constant sounds grated on my nerves. I slipped from the bed silently, gently lifting Joyia's arm, which she'd wrapped around my chest. She did that often, as if she was certain I would disappear on her.
If I ever desired to, her arm wouldn't stop me.
I smirked to myself, she was persistant. I walked across the stone floor, my bare feet making no sound. As I reached the door of the small home we were renting in Orgrimmar I pushed the fur covering aside. It was never quiet here. I detested that. Yet I had to remain in Durotar until I was recalled for the next stage of my deployment.
Daraman sat in his office and tried to will away the pain, the hurt. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him with what she said, but the words stung regardless. He had gone with Joyia to the ATS barge to grab a drink with a few of the crew, but found only Lilliana, alone and dejected, and refusing to talk about what had put her in such a bad mood. Eventually, Joyia convinced Lilliana to tell Daraman what had happened, and the paladin told him how she had been captured earlier that day, and nearly murdered and raised as a death knight. Daraman had told her that she was lucky to be alive, and she should take joy in the fact that she was still alive, meaning every word, but still reminded that he hadn't been as lucky as she had. She had then gone on to talk how it was a fate worse than death to be raised as a slave and destroy everything that you once stood for, and while careless, the words struck the last dark spot of his so
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“I love you, you know that right?” His voice was cold on the warm air. She sunk deeper into Jericho’s embrace- mumbling her own response. “I love you too.” She hadn’t meant to respond. Or maybe she did. She had no idea of what she should have done in that situation- defeated and broken, she let him hold her in the crowded streets of Orgrimmar for a long moment.
I watched as she flew away from me on her carpet. It rolled beneath her fluidly as if this were all a dream.
I kept my eyes fixed on her until I couldn't make out her outline against the softly glowing skies of Ashenvale. As soon as she was out of sight my hand instinctively raised to my chest and my brows furrowed. This was not...right. The pain I felt there was excrutiating and unfamiliar. That couldn't be, I knew pain, I was an expert at it. I felt a moment of panic as the pain clenched tighter in my chest, buckling my knees. Bloody hell, in all my years of life and undeath, never had I felt this before. I dropped my cold and scarred hand from my chest and I stared down as both my hands trembled. I laughed, it was cold and humorless and it brought me back to dark days when my will was not my own.
I froze. That could be the answer.
Daraman's eyes snapped open as he awoke from his deep sleep, slowly getting up off the floor where he had spent the night, looking around his apartment. Joyia was gone, most likely back to Silvermoon or her own estates, which was fine with Daraman. He had only brought her here because she was too drunk to stand on her own, and he wasn't going to try and take her all the way back to Silvermoon. He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed as he began to prepare for the day and wondered what he was going to do about Synn, Joyia, and the video surveillance. He was certain nothing they had either said or done would get either of them into any trouble, and anyone who listened to that footage would agree that what she did was justified. But Joyia didn't want some secrets to be revealed to anyone, and asked him to make it go away. He had agreed, even though he didn't know how he could make someone just forget what they had heard. He had been
Daraman gunned the engine to his new mechano-hog again and grinned at the sound. He had waited so long for this day, and at long last he had one. It had taken a lot of hard work, and a lot of help from a lot of friends, whom he would pay back in one way or another, but he finally had it. He'd even taken a loan out from Tinksa, who had been generous enough to give a relatively reasonable interest rate. Well, reasonable enough for a goblin, anyway. He suspected it might have something to do with the fact that she insisted on riding around with him in the sidecar. Still, he had enjoyed her company, listening to her laugh and giggle as he roared down Silvermoon's streets, putting the bike through it's paces as well as getting a feel for the machine. He skidded to a stop at the fountain outside Murder Row, staring at the entrance to the club and the tree that had replaced the old one Liore had crashed his bike into. Even now, with one of th
Her fingers tensed around the bow, arrow slipping into the notch. “Ya ain't allowed ta' change.”
The feather slide between her fingers as she drew the arrow back, the string taunt against her shoulder before she moved it away. “If'n ya change- ya ain't my Princess no more.”
Ariava's eyes turn to the side, focusing on the deer on the far side of the brush. She narrowed her gaze, and let's the arrow fly- squarely hitting the creature in the neck. The large dog at her side bounded off towards the wounded creature, pouncing it to the ground with his heavy weight. “If'n..I ain't supposed ta' change...why'd I say yes?”
I watched her walk out of our room in the inn, the image she'd created in her sketchbook burned into my brain. She had sketched a portrait of the two of us, framed in a bright border. I felt a moment of pure panic. That wasn't me, that wasn't a life that was even available to me. The hell had I been thinking, letting this go this far? I had to end it. Now. Joyia was far too young and vulnerable. I would spare her from disappointment after disappointment. She was trying to build some kind of future...with a man that didn't really exist.
I winced as I stood, my body still healing and sore. I limped over to the alcove where my satchel was stored and I rummaged through, tossing on some clothes. I crept downstairs, quickly moving past the inn workers that were scurrying to our room, preparing a bath for me. It had been the only way I could get Joyia out long enough to slip away. I scanned the lobby, looking for any sign of her. I made a break for one of the exits, breathing heavily from the exertion. I leaned against the balustrade as I whistled for my wolf. He padded up swiftly and silently and I gripped his fur tightly as I yanked myself into the saddle. As soon as I was in place we took off, heading for the front gates of Silvermoon. I handed the Flight Mistress a few gold coins and purchased a flight to the Swamp of Sorrows. That would get be close enough...
I lifted my arm to my head and wiped the sweat from my brow. I glanced around and doggedly pushed myself to my feet. I spotted a young orc warrior with a spear through his left thigh and I moved to him next. I murmured a generic, weary apology as I gripped the spear with both hands, snapping it neatly in two. I waited until the orc had cursed and taken a few breaths to steady himself before I quickly tugged the offending wood from his raw flesh. I heard him begin a long string of curses as he writhed on the cot, yet I ingored it. Settling my palms on the wound I closed my eyes and quietly chanted a soft prayer. I felt my hands warm as a golden glow began to flicker beneath them, tendrils of holy light coursing into the hole, weaving the flayed muscles back together. I held my hands pressed to the wound and it was then that my mind wandered, despite my attempts to block the nagging thoughts out.