[DND] Somewhere between sorrow and bliss
#1
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Backdated Near Fiskebyn
ohohoho



The trade expedition was intended to be short and simple, but of course it seemed that any adventure Myrkr was roped into with Willow became a test of patience. While they secured their goods easily with natural charisma, the return trip to Krokar was a long and arduous one. Mishap after mishap impeded them, and it was only through Willow's tenacity that they kept their goods.

After all of it, when they reached Krokar's border, the Cormier girl was all smiles and energy and dashed off to alert her aunt to their return. Myrkr, meanwhile, was tired. His hair was mussed, and his dark brown fur seemed more shot through with silver and white than it had when he'd departed—or so it felt like. Stress and timberwolf genetics made him look like he'd aged five years instead of one since joining Krokar; his fingers and belly and muzzle painted with gray, and his tousled hair was salt-and-pepper in clear contrast with the Myrkr before Krokar—or before the red star.

He passed the goods off to the first helpful hand, and crossed the river to reach the fishing village. He wanted its familiar smells, the warmth of his cat, the simplicity of a home whose proportions dwarfed him. He wanted to sleep and dream of nothing.

An intimately familiar smell stopped him in his tracks.


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#2
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Word Count → 400+ :: All the feels

The world was dying, or preparing itself for sleep. Autumn painted the foliage in fiery tones, whilst the frost-tinged winds scattered summer's former bounty across the earth. With the veil of darkness falling earlier and earlier, it brought shadowy thoughts to a usually peaceful mind. Bastien sprawled beneath the makeshift shelter he had constructed, a roll of paper stretched out on his lap and charcoal stick held aloft. His rose quartz orbs were glazed, the markings apparently long forgotten. It was little wonder the artist found it hard to focus; his mind was awash with stimuli. There were things he still had to do, places to go.

Such intrusive thoughts were natural. The hound had always been restless, his enthusiasm for what lay beyond the next fork in the road was endless. Bun could remember a time when things had been different. He whipped a hand through his thick hair, an action that ruffled it further than originally thought possible. Black streaks of coal marred his pale face, and touched underneath his eyes and forehead. Once, not long ago he had felt rooted to one place.Connected to it through family and friendship; He had been loved then.

There was one who he had loved more deeply than he had even thought possible. All of his other romances diminished underneath his fervour for the moon-eyed boy he had given himself to. Bastien blinked, and glanced down at the fur of his knees that peered through torn denim. Whoa. Why am I thinking this way? If the hound was completely honest with himself, it was because he was lonely. There was little reason for him to feel this way; Krokar brimmed with good, kindly folk who had opened their arms to him. And yet, he felt like running away. It didn't matter where. Maybe he'd find whatever the hell it was he was looking for.

A scent upon the wind stilled his breath and body simultaneously. "No... It can't be!" Bastien rose to his feet and abandoned his things in his haste to follow an achingly familiar aroma. It was something sweet and comforting that had once been intensely bound to his own. The houses of Fiskebyn blurred into one as he drew close, and he stopped suddenly. He panted and clutched at the sides of his body to relive the pressure that had built in his stomach; it was nothing compared to the sensation of seeing the familiar, willowy shape of his beloved.

"Myrkr! Oh, thank the gods... Myrkr!" Bun yipped and barked as he bounded across the distance that separated them.

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<div class="title">Sebastien Stone</div>

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<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Sebastien" target="_blank" title="Bastien's Wiki" class="character-wiki"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="apparel-accessories" title="Typically wears plaid scarves and studded leather bracelets."></a>
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<a href="#" class="optime-preference" title="OPTIME unless otherwise stated."></a>
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Typically accompanied by two Indian runner ducks, Myrkr and Tara."></a>
<a href="#" class="skill-trade" title="Offers animal feed, dye, tattoos, art, charms, fortunes etc."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-animals" title="Skilled with small domestic animals such as goats and ducks."></a>
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Art Credit: Jacoby![/size]
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#3
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Myrkr trembled.

He was imagining things; it wouldn't have been the first time some almost familiar scent had awakened old memories. Over a year ago the aroma of lavender and dyes would have dropped him to his knees to weep. Even now, his hands balled into fists and his hollow little bird chest, streaked through with white, heaved with too-fast breaths. He counted like Wilson taught him, and that was enough.

Until, suddenly, Sebastien was there.

While a year and a summer had visibly aged Myrkr with that salt-and-pepper fur, the brindle lurcher looked very much the same—as if time hadn't passed at all, as if the star hadn't fallen. Told that the man was a hallucination, Myr would have believed it. His mouth slowly dropped open, and his ears wilted down into his curly mess of hair, and the shaking returned tenfold. But the catch in his chest made his lips tremble back, showing teeth.

Bun pranced toward him, exclaiming, and Myrkr reacted like an animal. He hopped sideways as if his ex-lover were a charging predator, and thrust his hands out as if to knock him off balance before he could restrain himself. He bared fangs fully, but tightly pinned ears and the shining whites of his eyes betrayed fear more than aggression.

A no escaped him, and he stammered, Why are you here?


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#4
[html]

Word Count →+300 ::

Myrkr was here, really here.

Without a care, Sebastien dashed toward the familiar figure as though nothing had happened. Rose orbs widened as they glimpsed fear within the wolfdog's eyes, and his paws splayed as he tried to stop his momentum. Myrkr shifted to the side and threw his hands upward, as though waiting for an attack. "What? No..." The barest whisper of breath. For several heartbeats, the hound stood with his face turned earthward; he was profoundly glad for the long bangs of hair that obscured the flow of emotions that contorted his face in that moment.

His nose twitched, and he thought he tasted anxiety on the air. Was Myr scared of him? The hound slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot as sights slowly returned to his former lover. The dark male was shaking, the sight which him to whimper. Bastien forced himself to look at Myrkr, despite the fluttering of his own heart. No, it wasn't the stirring of a fire tinged with hatred for the brindle that he saw. He was fairly certain that anxiety dwelt behind the open, uncertain eyes. Admittedly, it wasn't the first time he had seen Myr in the throes of panic.

A tongue lashed at the sides of his maw and whiskers as memories surfaced to the fore of his mind. He couldn't quite place his finger on when or why things had changed, but they did. His life with the Stormbringer had been a time cherished, and looked upon fondly despite the fractures that threatened to tear their little world apart. The wolfdog looked different, he noted with concern. Myr's once inky pelt was streaked with white.

Baby pinks searched the other's face, a stab of pain evident upon his features as he noted the flash of teeth and tuck of ears. Myr's trembling reply sent further pin-pricks of agony through his chest. The dark wolfdog didn't want him here, and hell, Bastien didn't blame him. "I-I... No. N-never mind about me. W-what happened to you?"

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<div class="title">Sebastien Stone</div>

<div class="bottom">
<div class="sigicons" id="signature-icons">
<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Ketsuki" target="_blank" title="Ketsuki's Wiki" class="player-wiki"></a>

<a href="#" class="reply-slow" title="REPLY SPEED: SLOW- Up to 2 weeks"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay mature material.Fade-to-black preferred." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay LASKY." class="will-lasky"></a>
<br>
<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Sebastien" target="_blank" title="Bastien's Wiki" class="character-wiki"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="apparel-accessories" title="Typically wears plaid scarves and studded leather bracelets."></a>
<a href="#" class="references-okay" title="OOC references okay. Specific conversations please PM me first."></a>
<a href="#" class="optime-preference" title="OPTIME unless otherwise stated."></a>
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Typically accompanied by two Indian runner ducks, Myrkr and Tara."></a>
<a href="#" class="skill-trade" title="Offers animal feed, dye, tattoos, art, charms, fortunes etc."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-animals" title="Skilled with small domestic animals such as goats and ducks."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-spirituality" title="Follower of an eclectic faith."></a>
[size=50]
Art Credit: Jacoby![/size]
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#5
As he danced away, on light cat-feet, Sebastian skidded to an awkward halt and bowed his long freckled muzzle, that ridiculous hair — how many hours have I spent playing with that hair? — falling into his face. Realization had widened Bastien’s eyes moments before their would-be collision, and when he lifted his head again, his face was hurt.

No, no no, Myrkr thought, you don’t get to feel hurt.

Shaking, counting his breaths, skipping numbers and clenching fists, the dark wolf fought for some semblance of composure. He wouldn’t shatter in front of Sebastien, not again. The artist couldn’t deal with it. His moon eyes hardened, and he worked up despair, anger, all the emotions he’d used to cope over the months.

“What happened to me? I didn’t think you cared what happened to me.”


He sucked in another breath. Was he getting enough? Would he suffocate out here, drown in his own misery? He put his hands to his white-dashed chest to feel it rise.

“You left me.” His voice cracked.
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#6
Bastien’s lover trembled before him, and he was the cause of it. That alone cut deep into his heart and soul. All the moments he had cradled the willowy boy in his arms, swept his hair aside and looked into those soft eyes as he reassured him everything would be fine flooded his mind. A whine escaped parted lips as he gazed hopelessly at Myrkr, wishing he could find the right words. His mind betrayed him, the insides of his skull seemed to be made up of emptiness.

The force of Myrkr’s gaze fell upon him, and the hound recoiled with a cry. He had looked at him like that when Freetown had burned. When Mama Ava had perished, and when the air was heavy with smoke and charred flesh. There was nothing he could have done, they said. Bastien had failed Myr then, and the thread unravelled far quicker than he could hold onto it. His breaths left his throat in hard gasps as his windpipe constricted.

The words left the wolfdog’s mouth, and pierced into Bastien. Is this how he had made Myr feel? The sound of their ragged breaths mingled together as he pinned his ears against his skull. Freckled arms cradled his chest as his head lifted to the sky that was as cold and unfeeling as he wished he could be. To feel nothing at all would be to deny existence itself, the good and the bad were worth living for. Or so he had been told.

Bastien’s gaze drifted toward Myr as his words lingered between them. “Myrkr please. Please… I was an idiot, and I c-couldn’t cope with everything that was happening.” There was urgency in his tone at the thought of losing him again. “Y-you’re perfect to m-me. You made me s-so happy. I never forgot that, you know? Myr… listen to me, please…”

[300]
Avatar by Marcy! ♥


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<img src="https://image.ibb.co/iGed7w/Bun_lupus_by_J.png" style="height:150px; z-index:-1; margin: 0px 300px -100px;" />
<div class="title">Sebastien Stone</div>

<div class="bottom">
<div class="sigicons" id="signature-icons">
<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Ketsuki" target="_blank" title="Ketsuki's Wiki" class="player-wiki"></a>

<a href="#" class="reply-slow" title="REPLY SPEED: SLOW- Up to 2 weeks"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay mature material.Fade-to-black preferred." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay LASKY." class="will-lasky"></a>
<br>
<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Sebastien" target="_blank" title="Bastien's Wiki" class="character-wiki"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="apparel-accessories" title="Typically wears plaid scarves and studded leather bracelets."></a>
<a href="#" class="references-okay" title="OOC references okay. Specific conversations please PM me first."></a>
<a href="#" class="optime-preference" title="OPTIME unless otherwise stated."></a>
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Typically accompanied by two Indian runner ducks, Myrkr and Tara."></a>
<a href="#" class="skill-trade" title="Offers animal feed, dye, tattoos, art, charms, fortunes etc."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-animals" title="Skilled with small domestic animals such as goats and ducks."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-spirituality" title="Follower of an eclectic faith."></a>
[size=50]
Art Credit: Jacoby![/size]
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#7
[292]
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Sebastien whined and wrapped his arms around himself, looking as if he were physically hurt by Myrkr's words.

But if he was hurt, really hurt, there should have been some sign of it. Shouldn't there have been? He couldn't have truly suffered like Myrkr had over the seasons since the star fell, since the windows all shattered at once and the sea roared over the port, drowning sailors, breaking the land. No, Bastien had come to him smiling.

Now he looked to the sky, and with a frantic glance heavenward it became obvious that Myrkr did not trust the heavens still.

Did Bastien look at the stars every night? Did he count them to make sure none of them would tumble down?

Bun spoke desperately now, his pink eyes sad. He spoke of regret and love, and it was more than Myrkr could bear. The wolf bared his teeth and growled at the other man, his fur bristling. Seizing onto anger because it granted him some modicum of control.

"You don't get to say that," he said. "You don't get to say that now. I'm not perfect, I'm not even close." He stopped to scrub fingers through curly hair shot through with silver, and paused with his hand mostly covering his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Bun's freckles. "I wasn't -- I wasn't enough. Good enough, normal enough, I wasn't --"

He exhaled.

"I wasn't worth all the trouble. You decided that. You can't -- you can't change your mind now."

He dropped his hands, stared at the ground. He still wanted very badly to run, but he didn't think he could make his legs move.[html]
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#8
The moment between them expanded, adding to the sense of despair and hopelessness. Bastien looked wildly from left to right as he struggled to suppress the quickening of his heart. Air clawed its way from his soft lungs in sharp, harsh gasps. Make it stop, make it stop. A hand encircled his wrist and tugged at the leather wraps repeatedly. His eyes closed and ears tucked against his skull as Myrkr spoke again.

The wolfdog retorted that he had no right to feel the way he did. He went on to deny his praise in a voice heavy with despondency. Rose quartz opened, but he couldn’t meet the tourmaline ones that were likewise turned away. Bastien tensed as the claws of one hand kissed the flesh of his wrist when the dark male lamented that he felt inferior.

The hound’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Myrkr exhaled loudly, and continued to drive the blade deeper into his core. The wolfdog appeared to hold disdain for Bastien, and he couldn’t blame the way he felt.

“Myrkr…. P-please, will you listen to me?” He shivered against the cold and heat that his blood ran with. The shepherd would not, or could not meet his eyes - that alone caused moisture to blur his vision. Bastien took in a steadying breath and tried to control the quaver in his voice as he carried on. He needed to hold back the hurt he had caused Myrkr and in that moment, withdrawal seemed best. “Hon you’ve made your point clear to me. N-nothing I can say will change that, an’ I d-don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have…”

Bastien brushed at the dried blood that had flaked from the minute cut he had inflicted upon himself. Idly, he brushed a thumb against it and sighed. This had to be done, no need to drag it out further. He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he slowly crossed the distance and half-raised a hand toward the Stormbringer. It lingered there, motionless for a heartbeat before it fell uselessly at his side.

“I love you Myrkr, for what it’s worth. An’ I p-probably always will.” A sobbing breath escaped his maw as the hound turned his head aside. “Y-you mean so m-much to me, and this really bloody hurts. It hurts us both. b-but I've got to do this... for you, for us both. T-take care of yourself buddy… I’ll a-always be h-here if you… need me…” Bastien smiled against the tears that pooled at the corners of his eyes, and turned himself about.

[+400]
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<div class="title">Sebastien Stone</div>

<div class="bottom">
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<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Ketsuki" target="_blank" title="Ketsuki's Wiki" class="player-wiki"></a>

<a href="#" class="reply-slow" title="REPLY SPEED: SLOW- Up to 2 weeks"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay mature material.Fade-to-black preferred." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="#" title="I will roleplay LASKY." class="will-lasky"></a>
<br>
<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Sebastien" target="_blank" title="Bastien's Wiki" class="character-wiki"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="apparel-accessories" title="Typically wears plaid scarves and studded leather bracelets."></a>
<a href="#" class="references-okay" title="OOC references okay. Specific conversations please PM me first."></a>
<a href="#" class="optime-preference" title="OPTIME unless otherwise stated."></a>
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Typically accompanied by two Indian runner ducks, Myrkr and Tara."></a>
<a href="#" class="skill-trade" title="Offers animal feed, dye, tattoos, art, charms, fortunes etc."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-animals" title="Skilled with small domestic animals such as goats and ducks."></a>
<a href="#!" class="skill-spirituality" title="Follower of an eclectic faith."></a>
[size=50]
Art Credit: Jacoby![/size]
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#9
Would he listen? Myrkr shook his head, but despite the ache, the resolve not to let himself get hurt further by letting Sebastien continue on lying, his light-colored eyes lingered on the artist’s face. He listened.

Listened to each stammer, each sobbing breath, words of endearment and love: words that brought him back to the cozy building, to being wrapped up in Bun’s arms, safe and secure as he’d never felt before.

His nostrils flared at the faint scent of blood, and his pupils dilated in faint panic. He twitched at the other’s approach, but he was staring at Sebastien with dread and worry intermixed with anger. No, he couldn’t blame himself for Bastien being hurt, it was his fault if he was hurting, if he regretted what he’d done, but that wasn’t gonna magically fix anything—

Myrkr stared at the hound’s back, and flattened his ears. He hugged himself a second, studying the pattern on Bun’s shirt, thinking.

“The one thing you did,” the Stormbringer said to his back, “was show me that I can survive without you. I’m healing. Please let me.”

He hugged himself tighter then stepped backwards, glanced toward the borders, dropped his arms and turned, too.

“You take care of yourself too,” he muttered.

Bun would be okay. The people here were good. They just couldn’t be Myrkr’s people anymore, he realized, and took a breath. Then, before he could change his mind, before he could give into the urge to touch Sebastien and ask after his hurts, he made himself run off like the coward he knew he was.
[html]<a href="https://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.MyrkrStormbringer"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/LSLLiQd.png" style="height:250px;" /></a>
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