[DND] [M] The squandered depth of morality

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: .

The Cavaliers dispersed, content in themselves that their noisy opinions had been listened to, or angry that the Lune had cautioned temperance. Caspian watched Tempest's face as they three were dragged away for further incarceration, the fear in her eyes cut him deep.


Caspian's attempts to speak out had been overshadowed, talked over by the louder Cavaliers, his opinion had not been heard among the many clamoring to be first.

"Let them go," he'd attempted to say, but it had gone unnoticed.

Disgusted, Caspian watched these people his father had died to keep safe and wondered, for the first time ever, if Luca's life had been worth it.

Rubbing at the painful ache in his chest, Caspian turned away from them all, striding away with a purposeful motion. He couldn't be around them. Maybe he should have stayed lost in the wilderness.

A hand caught at him arm, halting him briefly. Lucian's frowning face took him in, the withdrawn expression upon his face, but before he could say a thing, Cas shrugged his touch away.

"I want to be alone, don't follow me. Please." He added on the platitude, to soften the bite of his words. He wasn't angry at Lucian, but he couldn't stand to be around the familiar faces just now.

His brother fell away, they all fell away. Caspian broke into a jog and left the Fort entirely, making his way through the brush and forest out to the Steam Baths.

It was silent here, except for the bubbling of the water, the whistling of the breeze.

Antagonized, he strode back and forth gesticulating with angry hands to the empty air. It didn't help, but it did work off some of the pent up energy. Eventually, some measure of quiet came to him, not to be mistake for any kind of calm, and Caspian managed to perch himself at the edge of one of the inner pools and dangled his feet into the heated waters.

Setting his head back on his shoulders, he looked up at the cloudy sky, wishing he could see the heavens. Wishing it were night so he could see the stars.

"I wish you were here." He whispered.

Ooc here

[Image: Giftfrom-Shadeby-Corie.png]Pushok was proud of the Cavalier's majority choice to spare the lives of those they could not prove the guilt of, though he was less than thrilled about those that had chosen a rotten end to the loners that had sought shelter in Casa's arms. Nilda's vote, especially, having aligned with the Dishonorable Nazar's, came as a surprise to him. He wouldn't judge her, however. Nazar, it was predictable, but Nilda surely had sound reason as to her vote.

It would be no better for him to pass judgment than the day he'd sided with Jace at Luca's trial. Even though it had all been for naught.

The Cavalier's were disbursing and Pushok had done the same, with a heavy heart and a heavy mind. He was still weak from illness, but he needed a break to relax. Something to ease his body as he thought through the whole situation in his mind, as if he'd come up with some divine discovery that would prove the loner's innocent. Even if that was the case, there was still poison in their food. There were still Cavalier's dead.

What was the cause of all this?

That was the thought that plagued him as he rode Podarok up through to the steam baths, expectant to be on his lonesome while the others helped pick up their pieces with no cause in sight. What he did not expect to find was the young Caspian with his eyes turned up to the sky, and something silent spoken on his lips that Pushok couldn't hear.

Now, Pushok wasn't a man who knew or understood the subtleties of life and death and the things between, but he could see that Caspian was troubled. Dismounting from the warhorse, he wrapped reigns about a stone and made his way over, “Caespien?” His tones spoke the young man's voice with concern, with curiosity and heart.

It only took a moment for the Hushhowl to release his belt and pull his cloak off of his shoulders. No armor covered his body beneath the surcoat that was next to come off, and finally pants were kicked aside. With little concern with Caspian's potential desire to be left to his own devices, Pushok made his way into the water and took a seat nearby, “Whaet's on yeur miend?” He inquired, unable to guess that, of the thousands of things that had gone wrong, which was what ailed Caspian the most.



Approaching footsteps had his shoulders rising, a tensing of himself. He expected it to be Lucian, ignoring his request for solitude. He braced himself for his brother's words, and yet, it was someone else entirely. Someone unexpected.


Turning his head, he met the pale man's visage with a complicated feeling brewing in his chest. How to say any of the words that sat there behind his teeth? Caspian had never been very good at speaking things properly, nor even thinking them through rightly.

Self-hatred was turned on his younger self for being so stupid. Caspian's frown deepened.

"A lot." He said, as Pushok joined him. Anzac eyes took in the appearance of the other man, the thickness of his body and the strength it promised. A different kind of shame bloomed, as he found himself staring instead at his own lanky legs that threatened nothing of the same as the older man.

When it seemed as if that was all that Caspian would say, finally his mouth cracked open again,


It could have been a question as to many things. So many lost within the whole.

The young man's arms came, to wrap about his own self and hold himself close. Hoarding in the insecurities, the urge to collapse and weep, again, the desire to simply cease to exist. Misery leapt along the desolate bristling of his fur, sinking in his muscle and skin. Once he had told Pushok every raging thought to pass through his vapid mind, he'd trusted him with secrets and hopeful dreams. Could he ask a simple question of the Hushhowl now?

Would he receive the answers to those notions that tormented him.

"Why did you kill him?"

Eros' words replayed again and again, dancing about the image of his Mama falling... falling...

Both were gone, and he felt like they had been ripped from him anew.

Forum Jump: