INBOX ;

Oct. 30th, 2023 02:48 pm
tadpoled: (Default)
[personal profile] tadpoled


“Ah, this is Tav. Kindly leave your message.”

voice ; text ; action;

Date: 2024-08-12 01:58 am (UTC)
portalling: ɪɴfɪɴɪᴛʏ ᴡᴀʀ. (pic#15613401)
From: [personal profile] portalling
As the Urge flings his body forward to use his teeth as a weapon, the magical restraints tighten again and yank him out of the way before he can collide with Strange. Which unfortunately leads to the elf tipping over and thrashing on the ground, like some quarry lassoed and hog-tied, to be slung over some horse’s back.

Christ, getting him back to the Gallows is going to be difficult, isn’t it? They don’t have a horse or a griffon with them. Maybe he’ll call Clarisse, get her to fly one out to them in the woods.

Strange finishes wrapping his shoulder and then starts packing up their supplies, still calm and business-like. Tav had always named this (personality? psychosis? magical possession?) with capital letters, clearly a proper noun: Not until the Urge is defeated.

Now that this is the sorcerer’s first time meeting it, he can’t help seizing this opportunity to ask, to try to get more information, anything which might give him more context and help them all make their way towards a cure: “Do you go by the Urge? Is that the name you’d prefer to be called? Do you truly have no other?”

potential 🎀

Date: 2024-08-16 10:08 pm (UTC)
portalling: ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ. (pic#17349648)
From: [personal profile] portalling
“Yes, yes, very terrifying,” Strange says.

The flippancy isn’t unearned. He has been tortured. He has been impaled, cast into flames, crushed, ripped apart, tied up in Ebony Maw’s grasp, a thousand needles hovering centimeters from his eyes, burrowing into his skin, into his brain. Pain, agony, dying over and over, dying and dying. His organs in jars is practically an everyday threat by now.

He rubs absentmindedly at his throat and what he expects to be faint bruising later — but Tav’s fists are not Thanos’ monstrously oversized hand, so there’s that small favour.

With the equipment packed up, he shifts to redo Tav’s restraints, prepared for when the magic will fade, replacing them with tightly-cinched everyday rope and some shackles they’d both seen fit to pack beforehand (this trip was a gamble, yes, but not a completely unplanned one).

“Well, Bhaalspawn,” he says, “I’m looking forward to getting my friend back, one way or another. We’ll see you back to the Gallows.”

And thus begins the long haul of dragging that howling seething monster back home.